Expiration Date (Books 1 and 2)

34 An Invitation

Iris~~

I let the book fall and I drop to the ground next to him. "Jonas?" He doesn't answer, his eyes shut. I shake him. "Jonas?" my voice rises. He doesn't move. Doesn't even flinch. Not seeing his chest move, I hold two fingers under his nose and feel his breath, faint but there. Close the door, he said. His legs are between the door and the frame. I have to get the door shut before whoever it is he wants to avoid sees him. Is it the ones who know Expiration Dates?

I shove his legs, and while I get them to move, his waist is still in the way of the door. I sit back on my heels, blowing my hair out of my face. I'm going to have to move him somehow.

I hook my arms through his and pull. He budges but barely. I tug again. "Damn it, Jonas." Did he have to collapse here? I almost have him out of the doorway, but my dress gets caught around my knees, and I fall, landing on top of him. One of my ribs presses into his chin. I grumble out a curse.

I right myself and hook our arms again. One . . . two . . . three . . . and four for good measure— I heave, and he slides past the door. I fall forward again, my forehead on his shoulder, exhausted. "Jonas?"

No response.

I close and lock the door and return to his side. "Come on." I shake him. "Please." Should I call for help? No. If he wanted me to, he wouldn't have told me to close the door. I brush my hand over his face, his hair. "What happened to you?"

His eyes flutter, and I quickly sit back.

"Iris?" His eyes move around.

"I'm right here."

He struggles to sit up, and I end up helping him.

"What happened to you?"

Taking weighty breaths, his eyes close again. "The pain hit me all at once. Did you feel any of it?"

I focus on the feeling in my Mark. I didn't notice it, but the burning has faded. It's still there, but not like it was. I shake my head.

"Can you help me up?"

"Yeah," I say and shift my arm underneath him. With Jonas helping this time, moving him is much easier.

"There's a side staircase down the hall." He holds onto me, and I hold onto him. Despite the circumstances—him grasping me like I'm a lifeline— I'm surprised by how well we seem to fit against each other. As cliché as it sounds and despite my reluctance to admit it, our bones, our curves, all of it seems to be like the pieces to a puzzle.

Forget cliché. That's way too corny, and I might die just knowing I thought it.

But that doesn't make it any less true.

"We're more likely to avoid people if we use it."

"Why couldn't I have taken it earlier?"

His head and eyes roll toward me. "First of all, you wouldn't be here to rescue to me—"

"Rescue you?"

"Rescue me. Secondly, I said it's 'more likely' that we'll avoid people. Not certain."

I open the door. "You better not be deadweight."

"Get me up the stairs and I promise I'll bring you brownies."

"Oh, so actual brownie points?"

His head tilts in the direction we need to go. "Thanks to you, I couldn't stop thinking about blondies during a ceremony where I was supposed to be focused on Erik."