“Dante.” He holds out a hand, which Jost shakes awkwardly as we hustle toward safety. Dante takes mine next, raising it to his lips. It’s possibly even more awkward than his handshake with Jost.

“Thank you again,” I say, trying to sound sincere, “for stepping in back there, and for helping us now.”

Dante’s helpful demeanor seems out of place in the Icebox. Normally I’d wonder if we were walking into a trap, but I feel inexplicable trust in Dante. I try to shake the warm tendrils of it from my head and heart, but they refuse to budge. It is this more than anything else that pushes me into following him.

“My motives aren’t entirely pure,” Dante says. “Greta’s a cynical old crone, but something about you spooked her, and I’m eager to find out what.”

“I have no idea,” I lie. “We were looking at books, talking with her, and she lost it. I didn’t understand half of what she was saying. I thought she must be crazy.”

“Greta’s angry, but she’s still firing on all cylinders. One of the few left who remembers the Exodus,” Dante says. “She said something about your type. You have no idea why?”

“No.” I keep my eyes on the shops and sidewalks, searching for Erik. I wonder what Dante means by her remembering the Exodus.

“No matter,” he says. “I’ll sort you out yet.”

The statement leaves me uneasy. We might not be walking into a trap, but we aren’t going home with a friend either. The street lamps have faded completely, and only the faintest afterglow remains. The roads are empty, but every now and then I glimpse a moving shadow.

“We won’t find your friend this late,” Dante says, a note of apology in his voice. He flips on a handlight, which is only bright enough for us to see one another.

“He was near here when we left him,” I say, squinting to no avail. We’d have to walk right into Erik to find him now that the lamps are powered off for lockdown.

“We’re close to the house.” Dante directs us a few doors down. His hand skims my back to guide me in the right direction and he removes it quickly, but not before my body reacts to its presence. For a fleeting second, I feel calm. Safe.

Jost leans in to me and whispers, “He’s probably at the hotel. It’s what we agreed on if we got separated, remember? Besides he wouldn’t want you out on the street after dark.”

He’s right, but the decision to abandon Erik doesn’t sit well with me. I trust Erik in ways that his brother can’t, but I don’t trust him to follow a plan, especially while he’s still feeling so bad about not being there for Jost before. Sooner or later, he’ll do something stupid and heroic to prove himself to his brother. I only hope it’s not tonight.

Dante stops at a thick, dark door illuminated on either side by thin spiral bulbs that glow red. He enters a code and waits until there’s an audible click before he ushers us inside. The entry deposits us into a holding area, the concrete walls surrounding us broken only by two parallel doors.

“Sally port,” he explains. “It holds us while the laser scanners approve us to enter.”

“Approve us?” I ask. My eyes sweep the small space, looking for the technology that is analyzing us as a green beam of light sweeps down my body.

“Don’t worry,” he assures us, before adding, “unless you’re on a Sunrunner ‘Wanted’ list.”

I bite my lip, not wanting to say that being on a wanted list is a definite possibility. Concrete walls. Laser scanners. This is a place built to keep attackers out. It’s a lot of security clearance, but I guess when you’re running a dangerous operation like solar trafficking, it’s necessary, especially if there are creatures roaming the streets after hours.

The hall on the other side of the holding area is surprisingly warm. Long solar torches hang overhead, and the walls are lacquered in a deep gray. A few broad leather chairs rest in an alcove, but Dante passes them and we follow quickly behind. We enter a lounge area with overstuffed sofas and gleaming walnut tables. On the far wall, a carved mantel arches elegantly toward the ceiling and a fire licks in a cavernous hearth. Small solar lamps with green glass shades light the windowless room.

“I’m famished,” Dante announces. “I’ll have the cook scrounge something together. No promises that it will be edible though.” He gives a sweeping bow followed by a wink as he exits the room. I still don’t know what to make of him.

Considering the canned goods we’ve survived on during the last week, I’m guessing the Sunrunners’ cuisine will be an improvement. One of the perks of controlling the Icebox’s light supply is bound to be better food. Jost and I wander to the fire and settle on the brick hearth to warm ourselves. I’m getting used to the daily chill of Earth, but it’s nice to feel heat on my skin.

Jost doesn’t break the silence; instead he pulls me into his arms and I dissolve against him. In the heat of the fire, I don’t need his warmth, but I long for it. I bury my face under his chin and inhale his scent. He pulls back ever so slightly, but only to bring his lips to mine. I don’t expect it, but I welcome it after the awkwardness between us.

The kiss is slow. On Earth there’s no need to rush. No risk of being caught by the Guild. Realizing that pushes everything else out of my mind, and I focus on the crush of his lips, parting my own to deepen the kiss. He responds by drawing me closer, his hands firmly on my waist.