Lara Lenormand was long gone by the time she found the resolve to push against Levi’s chest. He gently nipped her lower lip, then drew back to look at her face, his gaze heavy-lidded.
“That was . . .”
“A distraction,” she said hoarsely. She peered over his shoulder. Lara and the other witches were halfway across the park.
Levi followed her gaze. “Who was that? One of your teachers?”
“Worse,” Kal admitted. “The dean of the school.”
“Then I’m glad she’s gone,” he said, adding softly, “but I’m not sorry she passed by.”
Kal looked away, cheeks burning. “Let’s go somewhere else. This is too public.”
He corked the bottle. “I know just the place.”
“Not your flat,” she said quickly.
“Don’t worry, Kyra. I don’t expect anything from you. Not unless you give it freely.”
She relaxed. “What did you have in mind?”
“A change of scenery. You won’t run into any teachers, I can promise that. It’s not far and the view is spectacular.” He tilted his head toward the clocktower about a half mile away, its four illuminated faces marking the hour for all of Arjevica. “My cousin works there. I have a key.”
She hesitated. “Just so we’re clear. Don’t think taking me somewhere private is going to get you into my pants?—”
He frowned slightly. “If anyone should be worried about being taken advantage of, it’s me.”
“What?”
“Your gun pressed into my, ah . . . ribs when you grabbed me. You’re not as subtle as you think.”
She laughed despite herself. “No offense, but a girl needs protection in this town.”
Levi’s gaze darkened. “I’m your protection, Kyra. Nothing will ever happen to you while you’re with me.”
He looked dead serious. It was sweet. Maybe a little creepy, too, but still sweet.
“Fine.” She smiled. “Show me this famous view.”
They left the Beaux Arts district and walked through the hub of the provincial government. The buildings were closed for Caristia, but they had pretty wreaths and colored lights decorating the outside.
The clocktower stood just past the popular assembly. Levi unlocked the door and led her to a winding staircase.
“There are four hundred and twelve steps,” he said. “Think you can make it?”
She snorted. “Of course I can.”
Kal’s legs began to burn around step two hundred. The spiral was relentless, winding ever upward into darkness, occasionally broken by small windows that offered glimpses of the city falling away beneath them.
The stairs ended at a wooden trap door. He pushed it open and climbed through, then turned back to offer her a hand. She took it, his warm palm sending little jolts across her skin.
The belfry was a forest of massive wooden beams, gears as tall as a man, and iron weights suspended on chains. Narrow catwalks wound between the mechanisms, leading to platforms positioned at each of the four clock faces. The air smelled of oil and dust.
He led her along one of the catwalks and stopped at a platform behind the eastern clock face. It was clear glass, except for the huge hands, and Arjevica spread out below in a sea of lights.
“I like high places,” Levi said. “They give you a fresh perspective.”
The soles of her feet tingled looking through the clock face. They had to be three hundred cubits in the air. A wave of vertigo swept over her.
