She frowns as she turns the page in the magazine she’s reading. “I called him the other day. He still sounds awful, and he still won’t let anyone come see him.”
I’m worried about him. Of course, I have my own problems, and I’d like his advice—but he’s been locked away for almost a month now. Survival classes are being taught by a substitute now. I’ve never known Helsing to miss a single day before this.
The night before Valentine’s Day, I have a hard time sleeping again. I’m not sure if the nightmares keep me up, or if my worries about giving Sawyer his card give me nightmares. It’s stupid. A stupid, girlish, fear—but that doesn’t make it feel any less stressful. I’m tired in the morning, but I gather up all my cards and head down to the dining hall.
Sawyer isn’t here yet. I set his card at his usual place with a single chocolate on top before getting my food and sitting down at my usual table, watching the card like a hawk.
Piers, Owen, and Bennett all come in together, pushing each other and laughing as usual. Owen smiles weakly. The closer the full moon gets, the sicker he looks, but he still plays along with the rest of us. When they sit, I push their cards across the table at them.
“Aw, Avery!” Owen exclaims, opening his card. “I didn’t get you anything.” He’s smiling more strongly now, color returning to his cheeks. I like seeing him happy.
I laugh. “It’s a dumb card. Don’t worry about it.”
“We’ll have to do something nice for you,” Bennett says seriously.
“Maybe we can head down to the village tavern this weekend,” Piers says. “We’ll buy you a round.”
“Just one?” I joke. “How stingy.” They laugh, but I stop paying attention, because I spot Sawyer coming into the dining hall and heading for his usual seat.
Sawyer spots the card immediately and picks it up before he even goes to get his food. I watch him look at the chocolate, then open the card. He frowns as he reads it, a little crease forming between his eyebrows … and then he walks over to the trash can and dumps them both inside.
I look away and try to pretend it doesn’t mean anything, but I really thought he’d like the card. I really thought he would at least read the damn thing. But he gets his food and sits back down and eats like he usually does, as though he didn’t just trash my hopes for our friendship as casually as tossing away a gum wrapper.
I haven’t given up on Sawyer, but I leave him alone for the rest of the week. Erin tells me that Skinner’s back in the village, so I take Piers up on his offer to buy me some drinks at the tavern, and we grab Owen and Bennett to come with us.
The walk down to the village is long and unseasonably cold. The boys take turns slinging their arms around my waist to keep me warm.
“Why do you want to talk to this Skinner guy, anyway?” Owen asks. “Just have some drinks with us and forget about him.”
“Skinner’s a contract expert,” Piers pipes up. “My dad talks about him all the time. Says Skinner’s a real sleazeball, but his contracts are usually airtight.”
Bennett and I share a glance, and I can tell we’re both thinking the same thing. How bad is this guy if Mason Dagher himself is calling him a sleazeball?
Owen sighs as we arrive at the tavern. “Come in for one drink before you go see that guy?”
I grin. “You really think I should visit a contract expert after I’ve been drinking?”
He pouts. “I guess not.”
“It shouldn’t take me long,” I tell him soothingly just before Bennett takes his elbow and tugs him into the tavern.
Luckily, Skinner’s place isn’t far from the tavern. He’s rented a little house almost directly next door to it. I shiver in my coat along the short walk. A few places are still decorated for Valentine’s Day, reminding me once again of my failure with Sawyer. I really don’t see how I can fix things now, if he won’t even read a stupid card. I try to shake this thought off as I walk up the porch steps to knock on the door.
“One moment!” calls Skinner’s voice from inside. I look up at the house as I wait on his doorstep. It’s simple, with wooden siding and a tall hipped roof with little curved windows that peer down at me like eyes. It’s built almost into the side of a hill and the foundation looks to be made of big stones.
The wooden door swings open. Skinner looks strange without his suit jacket and tie, but he’s still wearing a vest and a white button-up shirt. He grins down at me in that way only he can.
“Well, Miss Black. I was wondering when you’d pay me a visit. Come on in.” He steps back to allow me to cross the threshold.
I don’t know why I expect the house to be bigger, maybe because it looks so tall from the outside. It also looks old from out there, but I can see that it’s been modernized. It’s really only two small rooms, with the common area and the kitchen combined into one. He has a few wooden chairs around a small dining table, a small armchair by a fireplace with a crackling fire, and a stainless steel stove that looks incredibly out of place.
“Have a seat at the table, Miss Black. You can hang your coat wherever you please. Would you like some tea?”
“Sure.” I glance at the dining table. He must have been working before I got here. There are neat stacks of paper, and his suit jacket is thrown over the back of one of the chairs. I shake off my own coat and hang it on the back of a different one before sitting down.
“Sugar?” he asks, taking a kettle off his stove.
“Please.”