The City of Crows by Bethany Lovejoy (great books to read .txt) 📕

"Congratulations," I said sarcastically.

"Yes, well," he began, his voice trailing off as he looked somewhere else. He did not continue speaking, his pace slowing to a near stop as he looked. I blinked, peeking over at him with a questioning glance. Knitted eyebrows and narrowed eyes greeted me, his nose wrinkled in confusion as he looked off in another direction.

My gaze followed his, catching only the slightest glimpse of auburn hair as it disappeared through a doorway. "Leo…?" I questioned, readjusting my grip on his arm. "Are you alright?"

He snapped back to reality, his eyes returning to me just as suddenly as they'd left. "Yeah, I'm fine… It was nothing." He opened his mouth again to speak like he'd like to tack something on, but then quickly decided against it and closed his mouth once more, stepping a little closer to me.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

He looked at me, his lips growing thin as he seemed to debate something. Whatever it was, he pushed it down, stepping even closer to me so that he could ask, his voice low and holding an unpinnable air, "Do you dance?"

"I…" My eyes narrowed, searching his face for any hint of what was going on. He didn't give anything away, just an insistence emphasized by the lack of distance between us. "Leo, we're supposed to be looking for information," I began to try to reason with him.

"A break, then," Leo said, ready as ever to counter me. "It's hardly ballroom dancing, Lyra," he said, gesturing to the people around us. He was right, it'd be too generous to call it that. It was far more toned down, only a few couples swaying in the room to the tunes, their arms around necks and waists like untrained high schoolers at prom. Expensive yet casual clothing and a live band hinted at money, but the upbeat jazz and the grins on their faces suggested anything but class. The scene contrasted with the white marble floors and intricate woodwork, everyone looking out of place amongst the decor. It struck me then that these were not the sort of people with whom the mayor would typically spend time. This was a far more intimate affair.

Leo cocked his head, his arm trailing across my back as he moved to stand in front of me, hand insistently held out to me. I tilted my head in turn, unsure what exactly he was getting at. Yet, slowly and surely, I reached for him, my hand sitting in his, allowing him to pull me out further, onto our own slice of the dance floor.

It was funny then, watching the people who moved around in business casual and cocktail dresses as Leo and I stood, both painfully underdressed and under-informed. My hands around his neck, his at my waist, uncertainly shuffling together like we knew exactly how odd we appeared. And yet, the second that we stood together, I felt like we fit into the scene far more than any other couple, both kept at a distance from one another yet at the same time instinctually meshing with each other. There was no awkwardness as he pulled me closer, nor as I linked my hands together behind his neck. We fit comfortably in a way that I'd never fit with anyone before.

Every step was easy, every sway anticipated. A part of me feared that being around Leo would become too comfortable, another reason to miss him when he was gone. His forehead pressed against mine as if to reassure me of this fact, and his eyes closed in seeming bliss. Seeming. No sooner had I returned the gesture then he began to speak again, his voice low.

"Autumn's here."

I jerked my head back, shocked at the statement. Autumn shouldn't have been there, neither should Yvie. No witch should have been invited, not to a house like Mayor Lobdel's. And yet, with Yvie there was an excuse, reasoning as simple as the wrong person misunderstanding and giving her a ticket. But Autumn?

"She looks like she's been crying."

My stomach churned, fingers clenching tighter onto each other. "Where's Landon?" I asked.

"I don’t see him.”

A pang, one that brought bile to my throat. Of course he wasn't there; of course, the world wasn't kind. Didn't Rowan tell me Landon was taken care of? And Autumn… "She's looking for him, isn't she?"

"If that's what you call peering around corners and darting in and out of rooms, then yes," Leo sighed, drawing me closer so that his head could rest on top of mine. "Any idea what's going on?" He muttered for my ears only.

"Only mildly," I lied.

"Right then, should we talk to Autumn or…?"

I didn't respond, instead tucking myself further into his chest. Seeing Autumn, I had an idea that it....wouldn't be pleasant. Not if what I feared was true, not if the tidal waves in my stomach proved to be correct. The right move would have been to leave, but I knew Leo would never do that. Instead, I settled for holding him there, my face buried in his chest, keeping him from going anywhere else.

"Lyra," he began again, always saying my name, always pushing me forward with it.

"No," I shook my head into his chest, my arms only tightening around him. "A bit longer, just a bit longer."

"Lyra," Leo insisted once more, his head pulling off of mine as my arms drifted lower, dropping from his neck to grip his waist, holding him closer to me. It was an insane and selfish action, and yet, simply not seeing Landon felt like the roughened terrain one encounters before the edge of a cliff. Something wasn't right, something was wrong. "Lyra, we need to keep moving."

Of course we did, how foolish of me. The part of me that desperately wanted to tell him that no, we didn't, and we should be worried about something, someone, out there. But when Rowan's name came to mind, I couldn't speak it. I