sound to replace it, and he stopped, flicking the water from his eyes with a toss of his head as he tread water.
“Breakfast ready?” he asked, and I nodded, not comfortable with his obvious assumption that people were there to do things for him. And yet . . . I went to get the towel that Jon had left beside the slippers and the robe as Zack angled for the edge and levered himself up and out.
The towel I recognized, but the slippers and the robe were new. Someone had gone shopping. That gold-and-black swimsuit Zack was sporting wasn’t anything I’d ever seen before, either.
His childhood has probably been as perfect as Trent’s, I thought sourly, until I remembered that Trent’s childhood had been as bad as mine in a way. We’d both lost parents, both fought and lost power struggles with our peers as we figured things out. Zack, too, though clearly having grown up in the luxury and the privilege of the dewar, had probably never known his parents, having been groomed and taught from infancy to replace Landon. I know I would’ve given up a lot to have my dad back. Maybe not so different from me after all.
Steam rose from Zack’s lean body as he padded forward, leaving wet footprints behind on the November-cold tile. Buddy stood, tail waving. “Hey, Buddy,” Zack said, voice high as he gave the dog a brisk head rub. “Maybe I can get you in the water next time.” His delight with the dog still lingered in his eyes as he took the towel from me. “Thanks,” he said as he dried off. “I can’t believe how warm the water is.”
I looked at the whorls of steam rising from the stilling water. Quen would probably be out here after breakfast to pull the insulating cover over it, but for now, it was nice to look at. “Trent knows I won’t get in it if it’s not like bathwater,” I said, my thoughts still on what I’d almost done. “He’s thinking about putting a dome over it for the winter. I told him not to bother if it was just for me. He’d be out here in the snow.”
Zack shrugged on his robe, completely missing Bis as he ran his gaze over the waterfall. “That would be amazing.” He scuffed into his slippers, eyebrows rising as he looked me up and down. “You didn’t sleep at all, did you,” he added, focused on my amulet.
“No.” Uncomfortable, I headed inside. Zack coaxed Buddy into following, the dog’s nails clicking until he was inside and only his jingling collar gave him away. Trent hadn’t come down yet, and I sat at the table with my back to the stairway. The journals that Quen had gone through were stacked on a nearby end table. Worried, I looked out over the steaming water and sipped my coffee. I wasn’t going to sleep until this was done. We had to do this, and we had to do it fast.
Zack hesitated for a bare moment before taking the chair across from me with his back to the enormous fireplace. It would leave Trent on my right, which was fine with me, and I slid the coffee carafe across the table. “Help yourself.” I wasn’t going to serve him.
“Thanks.” Looking as if he seldom had to, Zack awkwardly poured himself a cup. Syrup and butter were already waiting, and the scent of cooking batter drifted down. My stomach rumbled, and I slumped as I ate a fall raspberry. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get through today. The caffeine was starting to work, though, and I took three more raspberries.
Zack slurped his coffee, and I smiled at his slight grimace.
“Coffee is good,” Zack said, convincing me he didn’t really like it when he added cream and three spoonfuls of sugar. Yeah, I remembered forcing down a cup, trying to impress my older brother, Robbie. Even so, it was hard to say that Zack didn’t look at home there in a green robe with his hair in disarray from his swim and a dog at his feet. A fleeting thought rose and fell: was this what it would be like to live with Trent full-time? Probably not.
“Can I ask you something?” Zack said.
My head jerked up, and I eyed him warily. “Sure.”
Zack scratched the side of his face and the soft fuzz just