He rubs the back of his neck. “Usually it’s just intuition and some well-applied measures to get the truth.”
“You torture people.”
“Persuade.”
I roll my eyes. I can only imagine. “But here?”
“There’s like a halo effect. The colors don’t lie. Well, they reveal lies. If you ask the right questions.”
“What color is a lie?”
“Black.”
“What color is the truth?”
“White.”
Sounds easy enough.
“Can you see other things? Like other emotions or behaviors?”
He walks over to a few weights that didn’t get put up. “Maybe. I haven’t been looking.”
Agis bends and gives me an outstanding view of his backside. His butt is perfection; round and firm. The desire to cup them with my hands and feel them for myself is overwhelming.
He turns and catches me ogling him. He tilts his head. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m not looking at you like anything,” I say.
His eyes narrow and rake down my body. “You’re lying.”
Well this is awkward.
“And,” he adds, walking closer. “Your halo is a little bit pink.”
“Probably because I’m just hot and sweaty.”
“Maybe.” He tugs off his workout gloves and tosses them on the weight rack. “You going to tell me what you were looking at?”
I shrug, feeling stupid. “Your butt.”
His eyebrows furrow. “My what?”
“Your ass, dumbass. It’s hot. You’re hot.” There’s no use lying. “You’re cut from some gods-created marble and pumped with gods-infused steroids. It doesn’t mean I like you.”
He assesses me and a line forms between his eyes.
Must have passed his internal lie-detector that time.
“I know you think I’m some kind of swoony school-girl that’s convinced love will conquer evil. I’m not.” I frown. “Well, not exactly. Something crazy is going on in this place. Everything is exaggerated—even your ability to sense lies. Rupert’s psychic abilities. Armin’s telekinesis. I’m willing to give this a shot—forming an army, making allies, training. Why can’t you give my idea a shot?”
He studies me for a second, his marble-hard jaw tensing.
“I can’t because it’s bullshit, Hildi. Roland’s right. Any kind of intimate relationship is a distraction. If the other guys want to give it—you—a shot, I won’t stand in the way. But I can’t go there.”
“Why not?”
My question hangs in the air.