For most of the night they had danced cautiously—typical first-date awkwardness—their bodies a few inches apart. Now Yuki had pulled herself closer, her temple resting against Tamani’s cheek. Tamani’s arms were loose around her back, and his brow was furrowed, but he didn’t put any distance between them. Didn’t push her away. As Laurel watched, he sighed and leaned his head against Yuki’s.

The faerie couple was circling, slowly, and suddenly Tamani’s eyes met Laurel’s. She expected him to look guilty, to push back and make Yuki stop hugging him. But he didn’t. His gaze was level, calm, emotionless. Then, very deliberately, he closed his eyes and laid his cheek back against Yuki’s forehead. Something inside Laurel froze.

Then David was pulling her back around to face him. When she looked up he was smiling warmly at her. He hadn’t witnessed that moment—that awful, terrible moment—at all. She made herself smile up at him as the slow song faded out and a loud, bouncing song crashed in.

David’s fingers twined through hers and they walked to the edge of the dance floor, Laurel forcing herself not to turn and look around. When they stopped, and she could turn without making David suspicious, Laurel did, her eyes scanning the crowded room, searching for Tamani. She finally spotted him on the far side of the gym, laughing at something Yuki was saying.

“Hey, David,” Laurel said, hardly able to smile over the lump in her throat. “There’s only, like, fifteen minutes left of the dance, do you think we could cut out a little early?”

David looked down at her, concern in his eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Laurel said, still keeping her smile. “I just have a headache. Have most of the night, actually.” She laughed shortly. “I swear I’m allergic to this school. The loud music doesn’t help.”

“Sure,” David said. Then, pulling her close, he whispered in her ear, “After that last dance I think it’s all downhill anyway. I’ll go get Tam,” he said with a laugh. “I imagine he and Yuki are both ready to go too, whether they’ll admit it or not.” He turned away and Laurel reached out for his hand, pulling him back.

“Can’t we just walk?” she asked. “It’s only half a mile to my house. We used to walk all the time, before we both got cars.”

David’s face turned serious. “Are you sure? I thought we were all supposed to stay together.”

“Yeah, but . . .” Her eyes darted to Tamani. He still hadn’t seen them, but it was only a matter of time. “There hasn’t been any real danger for months and months. There’s probably, like, a million sentries in town by now.”

“And at least one troll,” David noted.

“Besides,” Laurel said, ignoring that, “I never go anywhere without my trusty kit,” she said, edging toward the coat rack and grabbing her purse. “We’ll be safe. Please? We haven’t been alone all night. I just want some quiet.”

“It’s cold.”

Laurel grinned. “I’ll keep you warm.”

“You will not, you’re practically cold-blooded,” he said, laughing. But he grabbed his jacket from a hook and placed a hand at her back, guiding her toward the double doors that led out of the gym.

It was a huge relief to get out of the gym and enter the quiet atrium where only a few people were mingling.

“Thanks,” Laurel said, then pointed toward the rear doors. “Let’s go this way.”

They had only gone a few steps before the doors of the gym flew open, cracking against the walls behind them. Laurel and David both turned and saw Tamani burst from the gym, his eyes scanning the room until they lit upon Laurel.

“There you are,” he said as soon as he was in earshot. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going home,” Laurel said, not meeting his eyes. “We’re going home. It’s not that far; you guys can stay and finish the dance.”

“Like hell,” Tamani said, his voice tight.

“Hey!” David said. “Back off.”

Tamani sighed and lowered his tone. “Laurel, please just wait. It’s my job to protect you and I can’t do that if you’re running off alone in the middle of the night.”

“She’s not alone,” David countered.

“She may as well be. You can’t protect her.”

“I—”

“Don’t even try to pretend you have your gun tonight,” Tamani said, cutting David off. “I scoped you out earlier.”

David’s mouth closed. How often does David still carry his gun? Surely she would have noticed—it couldn’t be that often. Could it?

Tamani clenched and unclenched his fists, then raised his head, looking remarkably calm. “I’m not trying to get in your way, David. We just need to stick to the plan, no matter how safe things seem. Please just wait while I get the others so I can drive you home. Then I’ll leave and you . . . you can do whatever. But let me get you home safely. Please?”

Laurel looked up at David, but she knew he would be on Tamani’s side. He hadn’t really wanted her to walk home either.

“Fine,” Laurel said in a small voice.

“Thank you.” Tamani turned and hurried back into the gym. As soon as the doors swung shut behind him, she felt David’s hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get us away fast enough,” David said. Then, after a moment of hesitation: “But I do feel better this way.”