Gauntlet: Chapter 6

“But Clio,” August murmured, a mischievous grin curling his lips. “Take that bath.”

Clio gaped, then lightly smacked him on the arm, even as she gave a grudging laugh. “Fine. I get the message.”

“You’ll find some things you can wear in the other room. If you want, you can rest or nap awhile–we can wake you up in time for dinner.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Clio breathed.

“Great. See you in a few hours.”

Clio soaked in the tub until the water went cold, then filled the tub up again with hot water and soaked some more. She finished it off with a shower, scrubbing her head until her scalp felt raw. It was, perhaps, the greatest day of her life.

The bath left her languid and sleepy, so she wrapped herself up in a fluffy towel and went in search of something to wear. A long, silky nightgown and matching robe lay on the bed. Clio touched them gingerly, wondering where in the world August had gotten his hands on them.

He’d mentioned finding several buildings that still had their furnishings, and scavenging other areas all over the outer city, but she doubted all his goodies had just been lying around. Maybe the Gauntlet had a shopping mall.

The gown felt heavenly sliding down her body. It wouldn’t really do for dinner, though, and neither would her filthy clothes until they’d been cleaned.

She tried the armoire tucked into one corner of the room. Sure enough, it held quite a few items of clothing in Clio’s general size. They were mostly dresses, which made her frown. Hard to run in those. And the prevalent style seemed to be dated–very dated. Come to think of it, the people she’d met that day had been dressed oddly, too. The clothes were more like costumes than everyday wear.

It brought to mind the theater where she’d scavenged for clothes. Suddenly, things began to make more sense. Maybe bizarre prop rooms were scattered all over the Gauntlet, just waiting for someone to find them.

Fine, she thought. I doubt I’ll be running from anyone at dinner. She refused to let her guard down completely, but for the moment, at least, she seemed pretty safe in this place.

She fell asleep before she realized it, and woke up to a friendly woman knocking at her door. The woman said she was “there to help”–and convinced Clio to wear one of the fancier dresses in the closet.

“Everyone dresses for dinner here,” she explained. “August likes it.”

Clio frowned, but eventually resigned herself. “When in Rome…”

Clio still felt self-conscious when she left for the dining room. At least her hair looked nice–soft and shiny from the wash and a good brushing. Her bangs were getting much too long, though, and she nervously brushed them to the side before entering the room. She could hear the buzz of several voices, and, just as she feared, they all stopped when she stepped through the doorway.

Her embarrassment was short-lived; August appeared at her side almost immediately, covering any awkwardness with his banter. She greeted him with “Your Majesty,” which earned her a beaming grin.

She relaxed a little, even though he introduced her around the room to a number of people whose names she couldn’t remember two minutes later. Like the woman in her room had said, people wore elaborate outfits–some of the dresses skirted the edge of being full-fledged ball gowns, while the men in well-tailored suits distinguished themselves with splashes of color, brocade vests, and intricate neckwear.

For a moment, Clio had an unsettling flashback to the strange revel in the square. The similarities were almost too close for comfort, but she knew these people were real, and she supposed that every part of the Gauntlet had its share of weirdness.

August wore a sophisticated bit of flash that suited him. A gold pin with chains gleamed on his chest, accentuating the quasi-military cut of his jacket. He looked relaxed, completely in his element, and seemed to be enjoying the display of finery–including Clio’s own, if the approving sweep of his eye was anything to go by.

Clio reminded herself of August’s actions in the cell block. Grandstanding aside, he had to be really intelligent, considering what he’d managed to do for Sunshine. She was keenly aware of that when he suggested they walk in the garden before dinner.

“You clean up nicely, Clio.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “I feel almost human again.” She did feel feminine and pretty, if a little silly. She tried not to think of what Britt would say about it.

“Good,” he said with a hum. “I hope you enjoy it here.”

His smile really was infectious. But after a moment, Clio’s faltered.

“I feel guilty, being pampered like this.”

August nodded. “Your friend. I haven’t forgotten.”

“Do you really think you can help her?”

“I’ll do my best, and my best is pretty damn good, if I do say so myself.” August draped a comforting arm around her.

She still felt like a heel for enjoying this haven and August’s company, even if it was only temporary. Clio sighed and leaned into him. If he had a better chance of saving Britt than she did, then it was good to connect with him. She felt her guilt deepen a little.

“In the morning,” August murmured, “tell me everything you know, and we’ll figure something out. But for now, you need a good meal. You’ll feel better.”

“Okay.” Clio gripped the edge of his sleeve with her fingers. “Thank you, August. For everything. I really can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“It’s definitely my pleasure.”

The tease in his voice brought her gaze to his. And this time, he did kiss her.

She didn’t have time to be nervous. His fingers came up to trail along her throat, while the soft, closed-mouthed kiss turned into two then three then more, heating up until her hands somehow ended up tangled in his hair. She was suddenly pushed up against the archway of some vine-laden, wooden trellis she’d barely noticed before.

The strong scent of crushed jasmine blossoms brought Clio back to reality. She pulled back, gasping, as her pulse raced madly. She could feel it fluttering in her throat; August traced the thrum of the beat with his fingertips.

“Clio…” His lips moved to replace his fingers. “Is this all right?”

Clio nodded, not trusting the sound of her voice. God, she barely knew him. This was probably a really bad idea–but she couldn’t help it. She really liked him, and maybe she was a bit desperate for human comfort. She was definitely taking more chances these days.

Shivers stole down her spine as he pulled back to study her face. The look he gave her turned her blood to fire. The elegant planes of his high cheekbones contrasted with the rather filthy look in his eyes. The former delicacy of his attention all but disappeared, and his mouth was on hers again, hot and urgent and messy.

Clio moaned a soft sound against his lips, and she felt his hands tighten around her arms. “Clio…let’s–”

“August.”

Clio gasped and blushed down to her toes, instinctively pulling away. Someone stood in the open doorway to the dining room. The light behind him made it impossible to see his features in the dark.

Oh, God! She’d been embarrassed enough before knowing she had an audience.

August threw her a rueful smile and turned. “Chance,” he called. “You’re back.”

“You wanted a report when I returned.”

“Yeah, yeah.” August waved his hand dismissively. “That can wait. Come say hi to our new guest.”

Clio thought she saw the man hesitate in reluctance as he peeled from the doorway. Once he neared, she gasped in recognition.

“You!”

August raised an eyebrow. “You know each other?”

Clio stared at the man who towered over her. He wore the same irritating expression she remembered when he’d warned her against the Grays. The blank look in his eyes practically screamed You don’t belong here.

“Not exactly,” he said evenly. “We’ve met.”

“Really?” August looked between them and cocked his head. “Do tell.”

Clio waited, but the guy said nothing, so she tried to shrug it off. “I ran into him yesterday morning. He warned me against going forward, but, well…I still got caught.”

August laughed. “Let me guess. Chance exhibited his usual levels of charm…” He bent conspiratorially toward Clio and added in a loud whisper, “…non-existent.”

Clio giggled. “And instead of convincing you,” August went on, “you proceeded to do the opposite of what he said.”

“Not exactly. But it would’ve helped if he’d explained himself more, and not been…” Clio broke off before she called the guy an ass in front of August. “Um…so pushy.”

August smirked at the guy, obviously enjoying the little drama playing out. “I told you–you scare people with that awful face you make.”

“It was sound advice,” Chance said coolly. “It she were rational, I wouldn’t have to sugarcoat it for her to swallow it.”

Clio glared. He was definitely an ass.

August put his steepled hands to his lips and snickered. “Easy, Chance. And Clio–he’s not so bad once you get to know him.” He gestured with his head. “Chance is my best friend and right-hand man around here. He’s too damn serious, but he’s a good guy. Chaaance,” he wheedled. “Say hello to her. A real hello.”

Chance’s disapproving eyes fell on her again. “Hello,” he said thinly. “You’re lucky you made it here.” He turned and headed for the dining room.

Clio grabbed a handful of her dress with her clenching fist.

“By the way,” Chance called over his shoulder to August. “Sunshine’s back.”

“Perfect!” August put a hand on her lower back to guide her inside. “I just need to have a quick word with him, and then we eat.”

Clio hadn’t noticed Sunshine’s missing presence–but she was instantly relieved. She hadn’t thought of him staring from the shadows while August’s mouth was on her.

A shiver pebbled her arms. It was bad enough that Chance had seen them. She blushed again and reached up to smooth her hair.

When they walked through the door, she felt way too many eyes on her–and not all of them friendly. August took it all in stride.

“You look perfect,” he murmured. Unfortunately, he immediately headed for another young man she recognized as one of Chance’s partners from their first encounter. That left Clio standing with tall, dark, and irritating.

“Pour Clio a drink, won’t you, Chance? You two can get to know each other.” August winked and sauntered away. “Play nice. I’ll be right back.”

Wonderful.

Clio took one look at Chance’s sour expression and turned away. There was a blonde girl across the room who kept sending her dirty looks, and Clio would have almost preferred talking with her. But she looked like she might bite, or scratch, or maybe pull hair.

“What would you like?”

“What?” Her gaze jerked back to Chance.

“To drink,” he said with long-suffering politeness. “What would you like?”

“Oh…” Clio glanced at the other people milling around. “A glass of wine would be fine.”

He procured a glass of white from a nearby table, and handed it to her with what she took to be a condescending smile. It rankled that she actually did prefer white, so she took it rather ungraciously.

“Thanks.”

He raised one dark eyebrow. “You’re of age, right?”

“I’m twenty-two!” Clio’s indignation seemed to amuse him because his mouth twitched.

She suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder and long fingernails dig into her arm. The dagger-eyed blonde stepped between them and flashed a fake smile.

“I’m Angela,” came a voice like poisoned honey. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

Over the girl’s shoulder, Chance raised an eyebrow. Almost in spite, she smiled sweetly at Angela.

“Hi, I’m Clio.”

God, it was going to be a long night.

Proceed to Chapter 6, page 3–>