Page 71 of Nemesis Mine
His tongue traced a hot pattern against the mark he’d just left. Cyrus groaned. “Not sure the people of Heliarth know their champion is such a teasing bastard.”
Max stilled. Beneath the hair flopping down over his face, his expression had clouded over.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Cyrus squirmed, tugging at his wrists again. Max let go this time, sitting back.
“It’s nothing,” he repeated.
Cyrus sat up too, flushed and sweaty. He swiped hishair out of his eyes. “Doesn’t seem like nothing,” he countered. When Max didn’t answer, he heaved a noisy sigh. “You know, if you asked really nicely, I might let you borrow my brooding chair.”
Max glanced at him, his lip twitching despite himself. “Might?”
“Possibly.”
“That’s surprisingly good of you.”
“I’m a reformed man.”
Max snorted. He pulled his legs up to cross them. “It’s just... with the election coming. There’s an event at Heliarth at the end of next week. Me and the other champions who are hoping to get my seat, we’re supposed to be taking part in a public debate. A chance for people to ask us questions, quiz us about our intentions.”
Unsurprising that he wasn’t keen. It was one thing knowing that you had younger counterparts snapping at your heels, another to face them on a public stage with their bright eyes and glowing skin and horribly pure ideals.
“It’s not something I can get out of, not if I want to keep Heliarth. And I do, obviously. It’s important that I do. I lose Heliarth and I’ll be the talk of the Federation, a downfall story to scare the kids.” Max released a long breath, letting his head tilt back against the couch. “But I know they’ll come for me hard in this debate because I’m the current elected champion and there’s been so muchtalkabout me. About how I’m not good enough.”
“We’ve turned some of that around,” Cyrus said, trying to sound encouraging. It was true: The two of them had spent most of the summer in and out of the pages ofAthaca News.
Max stared at the ceiling moodily. “Mm. Some of it. But you know how fickle people are. The presslovesAvexa. She’s only just graduated from the Federation, never held a city before, but they’re so sure she could do a better job than me.” He made an annoyed sound under his breath. “And they all say she’s such a good fighter, but how much experience has she really got? I think she knows someone atAthaca News.”
Cyrus couldn’t help him there, short of finding where Avexa lived and having a tree coincidentally fall on her. But Max wouldn’t like that. Probably. And there would always be another young champion ready to snap at his heels.
Perhaps practicality was the best route for now. “I could come to Heliarth,” Cyrus suggested. “We could arrange a fight for the day before the debate, let you impress people—”
“No,” Max said quickly, sitting upright. “No, we can’t do that. There’ll be too many champions about, and they’ll all be looking for a way to prove themselves. It’s too dangerous.”
Cyrus frowned. There had been a few of those comments of late. He didn’tthinkthat it was protectiveness born of Max knowing the truth about his powers. But still, he had his pride. Rather a lot of it. “I can look after mys—”
“I know,” Max interrupted. His eyes were on Cyrus’s, intent. “I know you can. But please. Let me?”
Cyrus’s heart performed a pathetic little flip at the sincerity in those words. He looked away, unsure what to do with it. “Fine,” he grumbled. “No Heliarth fight. Killjoy.”
Max exhaled quietly. “Thank you.”
Cyrus couldn’t leave it there, not when Max still lookedso pensive. “I’ll still come with you,” he bargained. “To Heliarth. We won’t fight, but I can sneak into your place again.”
“I don’t think we should—”
“I’ll keep out of the way. Wear a disguise. No one will recognise me.”
“It’s not worth the risk.”
“The election matters to you, so itis.” The words came without thought, a sharp retort, but they were true. Cyrus made a frustrated noise. “If you weren’t—if we weren’t a wrongdoer and a champion, this wouldn’t be a problem. I could just be there for you, and we wouldn’t have to hide.”
“But wearea wrongdoer and a champion, Cy, you can’t just force reality to change because you will it to.” Max sounded weary and he looked it too, scrubbing a tired hand over his forehead. It was so public, that was the problem, and they were both living such double lives these days.
After a second’s deliberation, Cyrus shuffled closer, letting his head sink to Max’s shoulder.
