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I watched a dust mote falling through the lamplight. Did Grey think thatthiswas home? Yugen? School?Him?

I pulled away, ignoring the hurt I could see in his eyes. I adjusted my bag on my shoulder. “I have to go,” I said.

“Go? Where?”

“To the quarantine hospital.”

“Ned,” Grey said, “didn’t you hear? They closed the hospital.”

“I know that.” My eyes bore into his. “Did you know they left thirty patients behind? Left them to die?”

Grey looked surprised enough that I trusted he hadn’t known. That made me feel a little better.

I moved past him, toward the door, battered and broken as it was. Grey reached for me. It reminded me of the way the others pulled me from the hospital, the way they carried me, kicking and screaming, from my sister.

I jerked away from Grey with more force than was needed.

He stood there in the light, watching me in the shadows, concern etched across his face. “What happened while you were gone?” he asked. He reached for me again, and I let him hold my hand, pull my wrist to the light, see the bruises and scratches from my struggle.

My bag felt very, very heavy.

He pulled me closer. My head tilted toward his. My lips were dry and cracked, but none of that mattered as he pressed them against his, his body holding me gently but firmly, as if I were a bird he was afraid would fly away. I closed my eyes and sighed, letting myself have this one moment. This one kiss. His body felt strong and warm and safe. When he pulled back, I felt myself drowning in his eyes, not in the same gaspy, hungry way as before, but slipping under, just sliding down into darkness where nothing mattered, nothing at all.

His hand supported the back of my head, and I leaned into his touch, relishing it for a moment before finally letting my feet come back to earth.

“Grey,” I whispered. “I have to go.”

He silenced me with another kiss, deeper this time, more insistent. More desperate, as if he hoped a kiss would be enough. Maybe it could be. My arms reached up, sliding up his back, his neck, my fingers twining in his hair. I felt the spark again.

The hunger.

I broke away, gasping for air. “Grey,” I said, more forcefully this time. “I have to go.”

“There’s no one left at the quarantine hospital,” he said. “You can take a break, Nedra.”

I shook my head.

Grey straightened, and I knew he was trying to catch his heart and calm it the same way I was doing with mine. He let his gaze linger on the broken pieces of the room, the shattered glass, the bent pages of books tossed on the floor.

“Just promise me one thing,” Grey said. “Promise me you’re not going off to finish Ostrum’s work for him.”

I met his eyes.

I did not speak.

“Nedra,” Grey said, his voice a warning. “Ostrum’s been arrested. He’ll hang for treason.”

“Without a fair trial?” I snapped.

“Maybe,” Grey said. “Kill the necromancer, kill the necromancy. Worked on Wellebourne.” It wasn’t until Bennum Wellebourne’s body had quit bucking in its noose that the dead army he had raised fell lifeless once more.

Grey’s eyes were pleading. “That’s why you need to quit. Forget everything he told you. Distance yourself from him. Don’t let him drag you under.”

“I will do what needs to be done,” I said. I started for the door again.

“I love you, Nedra, but...” I didn’t realize until that moment just how much the “but” canceled out the “love.” Love could not exist when it came with conditions.

Whatever he was going to say died on his lips as the weight of his words fell on him. We had said many things to one another since the day we met, but we’d never saidI love you. “Does it really matter whatI do if it will stop the plague?” I asked, giving him one last chance. “If it will save people from suffering? From dying?”