Nine's Legacy by Pittacus Lore Read Free Book Online

hair smells like vanilla, or coconut, or some other girly thing. Whatever it is, it’s great. I concentrate on the space on the arm rest where our shoulders meet, imagining that her every shift in position is some coded message for me.
    I glance over at her. Maddy notices and gives me a quick smile, her face bathed in whites and pale blues of the light presentation overhead. I’d spend the rest of this boring lecture staring at her if that wouldn’t make think I was a freak. Instead, I tune out the planetarium soundtrack and listen to her. Her breathing is slow and steady, but using my enhanced hearing I can tell her heart is pounding.
    Or wait. Maybe that’s my heart.
    I close my eyes and spend the rest of the show like that. Afterward, the planetarium stays dimmed, the stars still on display. The rest of the people begin filing out while we stay in our seats. Eventually it’s just the two of us and the stars.
    Maddy leans close to me and begins to whisper, even though we’re alone. She tells me about constellations that weren’t covered in the recording, guiding my eyes from Orion’s Belt to Aquarius. She laughs softly and corrects me when I mistake the tail of Pisces for one of Pegasus’s legs. I already know everything that she’s telling me, but it’s all so much more interesting with her narrating.
    At some point, without even realizing I’m doing it, I take her hand.
    It’s only for a moment. Her hand is warm and a little damp from sweat. She quickly slips away and stands up.
    “I’m sorry,” I start, realizing I overdid it, “I mean—I didn’t mean . . .”
    “It’s okay,” she says, shaking her head, looking flustered but not mad or weirded out. “Come on. You can walk me home.”

Chapter Thirteen
    Sandor isn’t in the penthouse when I get home, which gives me a couple hours of alone time to endlessly replay in my head what I’ve started thinking of as the hand-holding incident. I don’t think I even put this much thought into suckering in that Mog. Did I misread Maddy’s interest? When Sandor comes home with a soggy bag of takeout, he doesn’t even ask me about my date. Instead, he wants to talk about his day prowling the city.
    “I drove all over the city with this thing,” he says, holding up his heavy-duty version of my iMog. “Nothing. Not a single blip. If that Mog had any friends looking for him, they’ve moved on. I think we’re in the clear.”
    “That’s great,” I reply distractedly.
    “To hiding in plain sight,” he toasts, raising a freshly mixed drink.
    Over burgers, Sandor finally gets around to asking about Maddy. I tell him everything, not leaving out a single detail, even trying to recreate Maddy’s body language for him. For the first time since we’ve been in Chicago, I feel like I could really use my Cêpan’s guidance.
    “Huh,” he says when I finish.
    “ ‘Huh.’ That’s it?”
    He shrugs. “Women are mysterious creatures.” As he says this, he gives me a strange look, half smirking and half apprehensive, like I’m some kind of weird animal he’s afraid will bite him.
    “What?” I ask.
    “I just can’t remember the last time you talked this much. It’s nice.”
    I wave him away. “You’re no help.”
    Just then, my back pocket vibrates.
    Immediately, my heart is in my throat. My iMog is signaling a warning. I practically tear the device out of my pocket, staring down at the screen.
    But it’s blank. Just a solitary white dot in the center.
    My cell phone, I realize. It was my cell phone. I carry my phone mostly out of habit; it hardly ever vibrates, unless Sandor wants me to pick him up a bagel on the way home from my run.
    The screen blinks with a new text message.
    “It’s her,” I announce, almost too nervous to open the message.
    “What’s it say?”
    “Had fun today,” I read. “For the next date, you’re picking the place.”
    Sandor whoops and mimes a high five from across the table. So, she thought it was a date too.