“You’re actually the first svetocha I’ve personally been in a room with. But it’s in all the basic

classes—all about svetocha, and how they’re . . . well, they get everything they want.”

“Huh.” Even though there aren’t a lot. I absorbed this. “So I could go shopping anywhere I wanted?” Getting some ammo might actually be a good idea.

“I, um. Yes. You really . . . anywhere, I guess.” Benjamin sounded like he was reconsidering telling

me about this. Or faintly hopeful that I’d suddenly decide Nordstroms was a good idea.

“Cheer up, old man.” Leon actually chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “It could be worse.

She could be in the dressing room for hours.”

With you guys watching everything? No thanks. I know my sizes, that’s enough. I decided to test

out this anything rule. “Okay, so I need a military surplus store, too. Do you guys know what the

gun laws are like here?”

“Fingerprinting and licensing. But it boils down to, Don’t get caught if you’re in the Order.” Leon

gave me one of his odd little looks. “We can go to the armory, if you like. You can practice.”

I shook my head. Found a charcoal hoodie with a zipper and good sleeves, checked it for loose

threads. “Just wondering. Hey, Graves, you want to go get shampoo, toothpaste, that sort of thing?

And if you need any over-the-counter stuff, you know. Get me some Midol, all right?”

Benjamin all but choked. Leon studied the ceiling with a great deal of interest, a smile twitching at

the corners of his thin mouth. While Benjamin looked ready to sink into the floor, Leon looked

highly amused.

I decided I liked him.

“I think you should pick your own Midol.” Graves even said it with a straight face, but there was a

ghost of a grin quirking his lips. He’d found a way to shave, and he looked attractive but normal.

Not ultra-gloss like the djamphir. “’Cause, you know, there’s different types.”

“Point.” My stomach rumbled. “We should probably go back soon. Is the cafeteria open during the

day?”

“Well, yeah. We can get a midnight snack. Midday snack. Same thing.” Benjamin’s cheeks were

scarlet. “Don’t you want to do more shopping?”

I surveyed the overloaded cart. Jeans for Graves and me, T-shirts and long-sleeved shirts for him,

short-sleeved T-shirts for me, a couple of wool sweaters, sweats for both of us, two or three hoodies

apiece, including the clearance-rack one I was holding. Boxers to sleep in. Packets of underwear,

four sports bras. A belt for him, a belt for me. Along with everything I’d ordered online, this was really reasonable. The Schola was pretty stocked, but there were things like cotton balls and toner I

wanted. And my own brand of shampoo. They had some expensive stuff in the shower. I felt like I

was in a fancy-dancy hotel, using it.