Seeker (Riders #2)(77)

Gideon looks up and there are actual tears glimmering in his eyes-I think they're from trying not to laugh, though. "We're going to have a reunion   in Connecticut. At Daryn's family's house. And you're all invited. That's what I want to add. Our reunion  ."

I look at him. "That's actually a great idea."

"Ahhh," Bas says, nodding appreciatively. "A reunion  , nice. I'll be there." His eyes narrow, like he's seeing potential. "You have raw talent, Gideon. I could shape you into a great actor."

"I don't need any shaping, thanks."

I jab him in the ribs. He smiles and puts his arm around me.

"You're good, though," Bas continues, undeterred. "I've seen it before this, too. Remember the chocolate samples in Copenhagen?" 

Gideon laughs. "Yeah. I remember."

Something passes between them, thawing the cool distance they've kept all day.

Jode circles his hand in an out with it motion. "Do share, for those of us who missed it."

Bas smiles. His shoulders relax as he settles into storyteller mode. "It was on our train journey from Rome to Norway. I think it happened the day after I got the birthday cake. Remember that?"

Four voices. "Yes."

"Okay, yeah. So, we had like a fifteen-minute stop at a station. I forget which one, but Gideon and I went looking for food-we did that a lot."

"You did, Bas. I just went with you."

"Yeah. That's probably true. Anyway, we found a bakery and ordered two croissants. The lady behind the counter went to warm them up, so we waited at the counter. Then we saw that right in front of us there was a plate of samples. Chocolates. Little pieces cut up, kind of like fudge. We tried them and they were good, so we kept going. By the time the lady came back with our croissants, we'd taken most of them down. I think Gideon felt bad because he said, 'These samples were awesome. Thank you.'

"She replied in Danish. We didn't understand what she said but the message on her face was crystal clear: They weren't samples. We'd just polished off the scraps on someone's used plate that was just sitting there. We'd been eating someone's leftovers.

"The bakery lady was mortified for us. I think I was still chewing. I didn't know what to do. But like a true master of improvisation, Gideon looked at me and said, 'I didn't get a word of what she said, did you?' And I of course agreed. No clue what she'd said."

I can't stop laughing. None of us can. Marcus is laughing so hard my notebook slips off his lap.

"Then what happened?" I ask.

"Nothing," Bas says. "We took our croissants and walked out of there."

"And almost missed the train because we couldn't pull it together," Gideon says, grinning. "Those were good chocolates."

"I can't believe you didn't tell us that," I say.

"You don't want to know every story."

"If they're that funny, I do."

"Same," says Marcus.

Bas and Gideon look at each other like they're both running through mental catalogues. "Tell the one about your armor and the German guy," Bas says.

Gideon lets out a big, surprised laugh. "Oh, yeah. That's a good one."

It's the first of several stories, and each is funnier than the one before it. We laugh until we ache. We add to "Reasons" if something fitting comes up along the way.

My eyes start to burn for sleep, but I don't want to miss out. Burrowing under Gideon's arm, I shut them and listen.

Their voices are so different, capturing exactly who they are as individuals, but they make a chorus that's as comforting as Gideon's solid presence and the campfire's warmth. I'm almost totally relaxed when I hear the horses-all four-let out short, sharp snorts.

Everything stops as we scan the woods for what alarmed them.

"Harrows." Bas shoots to his feet, setting off an explosion of motion. The guys reach for their weapons. I grab my backpack, thinking of the orb.

"Do you hear them?" Jode asks.

The horses have all wheeled to face in the same direction. I look where they're looking, concentrating. I listen for the wind that precedes them. For their bloodthirsty howling. I look for their quick movements and ragged cloaks. The flash of teeth and claws. I can't hear or see anything.



       
         
       
        

There. I see movement in the darkness.

But it's not the Harrows approaching.

It's Samrael.

Stepping from the darkness with a graceful stride. His hands raised to show that he's defenseless.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he says. "I'm unarmed." He looks at Bas, then at me, and then finally at Gideon. "I have urgent news."