Sister Maria walked us back to our taxi before bidding us both farewell and leaving us to climb into the vehicle.

As we pulled out of the compound and began rolling back through the mountain passage toward the train station, I kept my mouth shut, knowing that anything we discussed could be overheard by the taxi driver. But then I sensed Jace looking at me. I glanced his way and met his honeycomb eyes, which were still warm and glowing with gratitude.

He cleared his throat. “I was just wondering if you had any plans for the rest of the day,” he said.

The note of hopefulness in his voice caused an unexpected sliver of pleasure to unfurl within me. I didn’t have any plans. And I wondered why he was wondering.

I shook my head slowly, then tilted it to one side. “Why?” I asked.

He leaned back in his seat with a contented sigh. “Well, a few friends invited me for drinks this afternoon, down at a little tavern called the Bullhorn, by the shore. It’s about an hour’s train ride from here. If you haven’t got anything going on, I was going to invite you to come with me. It’s a cool place, and I think you’d like it. Drinks would be on me, of course.”

I hesitated, the idea frankly sounding crazy appealing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d let my hair down, so to speak. And certainly not with other people. It had to have been before the Sylvones kicked me out.

At the same time, I didn’t like the idea of Jace spending money on me. Not after I’d heard him basically admit he was only just scraping by and trying to save enough to support his sister.

He seemed to somehow read my expression, as he added, “The Bullhorn’s prices are nothing like the average bars in cities. And besides, I feel like our relationship has been rather one-sided so far... I owe you for that sew job.”

A surprise laugh escaped me, and then I found myself nodding, unable to resist what sounded like the perfect escape for this afternoon. “Okay, I’ll come,” I said. “Though the sewing really wasn’t a big deal. Honestly, I enjoyed it.”

I glanced down at the shirt and jeans he was wearing—the first set that I had fixed—and thought privately that it had been worth every minute and more that I put in to see him so comfortable.

“All right,” he said with a grin. “So I guess it’s a date, then.”

I smiled. “You said you already threw professionalism to the wind, right?”

He nodded. “Whatever professionalism was there in the first place.”

I snorted, and then we both settled back in our seats and spent the rest of the journey watching as the mountains swept past us, followed by the gentler, rolling plains of agricultural fields.

I was pleased with my decision to accept the invitation. Honestly, I was looking forward to spending time with this guy—I’d grown close enough to him to consider him a pretty good friend in such a short period of time.

I was also curious to meet people he considered to be friends.

As Jace predicted, once we arrived at the station, it took us almost an hour to reach the shore. When we did get there, we headed right for the ocean-facing promenade and walked along it, enjoying the warmth of the early evening sun. Then we traveled down a steep set of stairs that led to a rocky beach.

The Bullhorn, it turned out, was really nothing more than a wooden hut. A large hut— which looked capable of holding at least one hundred people comfortably and had a big veranda that stretched out behind it over the rocks, and partly over the ocean—but a hut nonetheless. Which, honestly, made it all the more attractive to me. As we walked through the main entrance that stood at the bottom of the stairs, I felt a tug of nostalgia. The interior was all wood, from the walls to the floor to the furniture, which gave the place a musty wooden smell that reminded me of my own home. It was crowded, but not uncomfortably so, just enough to give it a cozy vibe. The warm light emitting from the soft orange ceiling lanterns helped with that, too.

Jace led me over to the long counter that wrapped around the bar area, toward four men who were seated there, the oldest of whom looked to be in his mid-thirties. Tall mugs filled high with a frothing liquid sat in front of them, and when one of them spotted us approaching, all four swiveled in their bar stools and stood to greet us.

I hadn’t been sure what Jace had meant by “friends”—whether they were colleagues he had met in the last four months, or fellow survivors from his commune back in the mountains—but given that they had the same rugged look Jace had, I guessed it was the latter. Their hair was thick and a touch overgrown, their beards shadowing strong jaws, while their bulky frames looked built to withstand harsh environments. None were quite as tall as Jace, though, so they didn’t seem to have clothing issues like he’d had. At least, it wasn’t noticeable.

I supposed whatever “contact” had helped Jace get down here, and become involved with OH, had also helped them. He, or she, must have gotten them all out of the area and brought them here, giving them identification and enough to start a life. I couldn’t be sure, though, whether they were all part of the admin team too, or even on the network, so I made a mental note to avoid bringing up the subject. I’d just have to wait and see if they did. I hoped they were, and I particularly hoped they were admins. Because that would mean they were better connected than me and perhaps even knew things, or had connections, that Jace didn’t. And the more contacts I had, the better my chance of stumbling across information about the archives. I mean, for God’s sake, how many parents in this country had been affected by the CRAS, and would give an arm and a leg for any kind of information about their children, even if they weren’t brave enough to attempt to steal them back? Someone had to have figured it out.

As Jace and I closed the distance, I pulled my thoughts back to the present, and the four men before us. They were eyeing me with half amusement, half curiosity.

“This is my new friend Robin, from OH,” Jace announced, pulling up a seat for me next to the man at the end of the line, and confirming my supposition that they were at least aware of the network.

“Robin, this is Alf, Cloyd, Denver, and Kory.” He gestured to each of his friends in the order they were seated in. Closest to me was Kory, a stocky man with ash-blond hair and light blue-gray eyes. He stood about 5’8’’, which was around my height, making him the least intimidating. Perhaps someone I could begin asking questions. “Friends from back home,” Jace clarified.

“Good to meet you guys,” I said, shaking each of their hands. Their grips were noticeably stronger than the average shake.

And I wondered in that moment if Jace had just given me their real names, too. Because if so, I couldn’t help but think that this was starting to amount to a lot of names I was going to have to try to forget, in the eventuality that I one day found myself strapped to a torture chair…

I shook the grim thought aside, determined to just relax and try to enjoy the rest of my Sunday. God knew, I couldn’t live strung up on nerves all the time. Jace seemed to understand that work-life balance slightly better than me, given that he was able to relax a little once he found a person he felt he trusted.

Maybe I ought to take a leaf out of his book. It was just hard, with Nelson’s training ingrained in my system. But for this afternoon, at least, I could push it aside. It was just me, Jace, and a handful of his close friends.

Who, if Jace had given me their real names, didn’t seem fazed by it either. Considering how long they’d known each other, they probably trusted his judgment about people—and, in this case, me.

I had to admit the thought was flattering. As was the fact that he had invited me into his close circle of friends, even if he had provided false names. It felt like a vote of confidence I hadn’t received from anyone in a long time. And coming from him... it just warmed me in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

I sat down in the chair Jace had pulled up for me, while he seated himself on my other side. He pulled a drink menu toward him, and I gave him a smile when he shared it with me.

“So, what’ll it be?” he asked, smiling back. I once again became aware of those cute indentations at the edges of his mouth and felt myself flush. “Pick what you want,” he added.

“Um.” Realizing I’d paused to gaze at him a second too long, I quickly switched my focus to the list of options and narrowed in on the cheapest item there. “Apple cider, please.”

He raised a dark eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“It’s either that or fruit juice,” I replied, giving a little pout. “I don’t need to get drunk to have fun.” Plus, I meant it when I said I didn’t want to waste his money.

He chuckled, then turned to the server who had appeared on the other side of the counter. “Two apple ciders, please.”

“Nobody said you had to adopt my virtues,” I murmured, throwing him a teasing glance when the server moved away to fetch the order.

He shrugged. “Nothing wrong with apple cider.”

“It’s what we ordered.” Kory chuckled from his seat next to me, and I turned to see him smirking at me, one hand sloshing the frothy orange liquid in his mug.

“Oh. Well, aren’t you being good boys?” I remarked, seeing the opportunity to start warming the men—and this man, in particular—to me.

“I’d like to say it’s ‘cause we’re angels, but alcohol is just bloody expensive in this country,” Denver—a man with mud-brown eyes and raven hair long enough to tie back in a short ponytail—said. “Even in the Bullhorn.”

“Hey, I’m in a good mood,” Jace replied. “So if any of you wanna order something fancier, go ahead.”

They shook their heads.

“Nah, we wouldn’t do that to ya, Jace,” Kory said.

“Yeah, careful what you’re saying there, Jace,” Alf called over. “Give Cloyd a few hours and he’ll have you in debt.” He clapped the older man next to him hard on the shoulder.

Jace chuckled, then reached out and took one of the two mugs of apple cider the barman had returned with. I reached for my own mug and sipped, finding it surprisingly full-flavored and delicious.

“So how come you’re in a good mood?” Kory wondered, shooting him a curious glance.

“Yeah, how come, Jace?” Alf added, angling an amused look at me. “Does it have anything to do with your new friend Robin?”

I didn’t miss the way he emphasized “friend,” and I suddenly felt a burst of heat in my cheeks. That was not what was going on here.

“Actually, yes,” Jace replied, before I could think of a comeback of my own. He caught my eye and gave me a broad smile. “Robin helped me fix things with my sister.”

“Seriously?” Kory asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“That’s amazing, man,” Denver said.

“How did you do it, Robin?” Alf asked. “Jace’s been having problems with Rhea for months!”

I swallowed. Since Alf had used Jace’s sister’s real name, as well as Jace’s real name, I now assumed that my suspicion was correct: Jace had given me their real names. And the confirmation that he’d felt close enough to me to do that, combined with all four men’s eyes suddenly on me, as well as Jace’s, caused my temperature to spike higher.

I waved a dismissive hand, needing to defuse the situation. “Honestly, Jace is giving me too much credit,” I said, shooting him a look. “He gave me some ideas and I made her a little gift.”

They weren’t satisfied with that explanation, however, and soon I found myself describing not only the homemade gift in detail, but also Rhea’s reaction to it.

“That’s hilarious,” Kory declared, grinning at Jace. “Her issue was literally solved by laughing at you. I told you you looked ridiculous.”

“Hey,” Jace growled. “Don’t get cocky just ‘cause Robin’s sitting between us. I can reach around her.”

“Speaking of which, you got new clothes or something?” Denver asked. “You wouldn’t have been able to reach Kory in any of your old ones.”

Jace sighed, then gave me a conspiratorial glance. I pressed my lips together, wondering if he was about to make this even more embarrassing. To my relief, he replied simply, “Robin fixed them. She’s got great sewing skills.”

“Wow. She sounds like a keeper.” Alf blew out with a cheeky whistle.

“Back to the subject of Rhea,” Cloyd said, speaking up for the first time and setting his dark blue eyes on me. “I think you’re being a bit coy by saying you did very little. Sounds like it was a pretty genius idea.”

“It was,” Jace confirmed before I could respond, and he sent me a firm look that brooked no argument. “She deserves every bit of the credit I’m giving her.”

I rolled my eyes, then dropped them back to my drink and took a long sip. Blowing up my role in Jace and his sister’s relationship wasn’t exactly helping his friends’ misconception of our relationship. But it was pointless trying to keep asserting my modesty when Jace was laying it on me like that.

“So you’re all from way up north,” I said, changing the subject in an attempt to get this conversation back to something potentially useful. “How are you finding it down here?”

They paused in their drinking for a long moment and glanced at one another, the same deep grimace darkening all of their expressions like a storm cloud.

“In short, they love it here,” Jace replied, and I laughed, grateful he had swooped in to make light of the situation. In hindsight, it had been a dumb question to ask, and I hadn’t thought it through in my eagerness to change the subject. For all I knew, these guys had lost family members, like Jace. Plus, they would be feeling the daily grind of working in society, rather than just living in the wild. Sunday was meant for escape, not for thinking about all that, and it had been a crappy way to try to lead our conversation into new territory.

Jace’s joke went down well, at least, and they joined me in laughing.

“Yeah,” Alf said dryly, his face returning to a grimace as he took another sip from his cup. “Let’s just say if we had a choice, we’d rather be back home.”

A band suddenly started up in one corner of the hut, causing a distraction, and we all swiveled in our chairs to watch as people began leaving their seats and heading to a makeshift dance floor in the center of the building.

“Ah, music,” Jace remarked, turning his seat back around. “This calls for another apple cider.”

I snorted as he beckoned the bartender back over, and let him order me another drink too. We then all fell quiet as we listened to the upbeat music, produced by drums, a guitar, and a saxophone, and then a male singer who joined in, pouring out his dulcet tones through a microphone.

It seemed my questioning was going to have to wait.

As the dance floor became more and more crowded, we stood up with our drinks in order to maintain our view of the band and the dancing. Then, after another few minutes, Kory leaned off the counter and speared Jace with a look.

“So, Jace, is this pretty girl standing next to us really just your friend?” he asked, giving me a flattering smile. “‘Cause if so, you won’t mind if I ask her to dance, right?”

I froze in place, the blood flooding back to my cheeks in full force. My eyes then lifted to Jace for his reaction, and I realized his cheeks were flushing, too. Deeper than I’d ever seen them do before. He avoided eye contact with me, choosing instead to give his friend a hard look.

“Yes, she is my friend,” he said gruffly. “And yes, I would mind, because I was about to ask her to dance myself.” He turned to face me, finally meeting my eyes with a twinkle of humor, though for some reason, he was still flushing. He shrugged off his backpack, set it down on the table, along with his drink, and held out an arm to me.

Despite being certain that my face was the shade of a tomato by now, I grinned stupidly and set down my own drink, along with my backpack. Heck, who was I to say no to a dance? I took his arm and let him lead me to the dance floor—but not before he cast one last glare back at Kory, who was grinning at us. We found a spot at the border of the dance floor where it was relatively empty, and then looked at each other, stalling awkwardly for a moment.

“So, do you even know how to dance, or was that just a knee-jerk alpha male thing going on back there?” I asked him with a grin.

He smirked. “Put it this way: I’ve never taken lessons. But maybe you can help me figure it out. May I?” He raised his eyebrows as he lowered his hands to my waist, not touching me until I gave permission.

I nodded, trying to ignore my suddenly racing heartbeat. “Sure. I’ll see if I can’t teach you,” I replied.

I wasn’t a great dancer myself, but I was guessing I had more experience than a caveman.

As his hands closed around my waist, my skin broke out in tingling where his fingers grazed it through the fabric, and a hoard of butterflies materialized in my stomach, stealing my breath.

Geez. That was a little more intense than I had been expecting.

Yes, I liked Jace. I wasn’t stupid enough to deny that. But come on, girl, we’re just dancing.

I tried to brush it away and placed my hands on his shoulders, but my heartbeat only quickened, as the motion drew me closer to him, until I could practically hear the blood pounding in my ears. This was the closest we’d ever been; even when I’d ridden on the back of his motorcycle, I hadn’t really been touching him.

“So, let’s just sway a bit first,” I said, needing to distract myself with conversation. “Find a rhythm. And then we can try some more fancy things, like that couple over there.”

I pointed to a couple that was doing a particularly complex—and honestly rather ridiculous—waltz-like number, involving the woman throwing her head back dramatically every six steps.

He looked over at them, then back down at me, his face deadpan. “Yeah, right.”

I laughed. “You’re right, I’m just kidding. We’ll stick to swaying. Which is about all I’m capable of anyway.”

I dared to lean in a little closer, until my cheek was almost resting against his chest—almost—and then started to guide our movements, getting him to follow my steps. We just rotated in small circles around the same spot, hardly getting any exercise, yet my heart continued to pump as if I were jogging.

I glanced to one side, distracting myself with the other couples, while I felt his heart thudding against me. I didn’t know where he was looking, since glancing up at his face now would be way too awkward, with how close we were pressed together, but I sensed he was gazing at our surroundings too, from the way his chin brushed occasionally over the top of my head.

I looked in the direction of his friends and, to my surprise, saw that only Cloyd remained, sitting in his chair in front of the bar, his mug clasped in his hands, a stoic expression on his face. My eyes scanned the room for Jace’s three other friends, wondering where they had gotten to, and then I saw them circling around the other side of the dance floor. In the short time that Jace and I had been dancing, they’d all managed to find single ladies to dance with. Or perhaps they’d gotten lucky with a group of them. Either way, geez, they moved fast.

Looking back toward Cloyd, I took in his darkened expression again and noticed this time that he seemed to be gazing at nothing in particular. His eyes were almost glazed over as he looked toward the dancers, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the reason he hadn’t joined his friends in picking up a partner was that he had lost someone. Someone he wasn’t ready to replace, even for a dance. It might have been a bit of a reach, but his eyes were so haunted, his expression so stiff amidst the lively atmosphere, that his melancholy transferred to me, and made me ache a little inside.

I felt Jace’s chest vibrate against me a moment later, and pulled my eyes away from Cloyd, realizing that Jace was chuckling softly.

As we swerved to dodge an incoming couple, Alf, Denver, and Kory flew through my field of vision, and I heard Alf’s cheeky voice carry over the noise behind me, “Couldn’t let you have all the fun, could we, Jacey?”

“No, you couldn’t,” Jace replied dryly, chuckling again. And then he added in an undertone, just for me, “I apologize for my friends, by the way. They’re incorrigible.”

I smiled. “They’re pretty awesome, if you ask me.”

He sighed. “Well, what can I say? Birds of a feather, and all…”

I chuckled, knowing I wasn’t about to argue with that.