Well, things had been a little...goofy when I’d woken up this morning, all tangled up with him, and on and off throughout the day. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. Wake him up, or somehow maneuver my way out of the bed without waking him? I’d suddenly been extremely concerned about morning breath. Zayne woke before I could make up my mind, kissing my cheek before rising. He’d beaten me to the shower. Later, when he walked past me, dropping his lips to the side of my neck instead of tugging gently on my hair or messing with my glasses had been a pleasant behavioral shift, but he had left me blushing and stammering. Training had started off normal, but the moment one of us got the other on the mat, we ended up staying there, kissing, touching, until Peanut drifted into the room and then back out, screaming something about his eyes.

When we’d started patrolling, I’d wondered if it would be weird to hold his hand as we walked. I hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to do that.

But we hadn’t spent the whole day training or making out. We’d planned for the Harbinger. I had come to accept that Zayne had been right all those days ago, when he’d said we wouldn’t find the Harbinger until he wanted to be found. Once he came around again, we needed to get him to talk, because if we took him out, we wouldn’t know what was going on with Bael and the senator and those spirits trapped in the school. And if the Harbinger had been the one to set those wards, he could possibly be the only one able to break them. So, we needed to make ourselves available.

We needed to be alert.

And we needed to be patient.

The latter was not a part of my skill set.

Under Zayne’s watchful eyes, I was treating the narrow ledge of the building as if it were a balance beam. I thought that perhaps he had about four separate heart attacks each time I misstepped.

“Do you really need to do that?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“The correct answer would be no.”

Grinning, I pivoted like a ballerina, eliciting a harsh curse from Zayne. “It’s practice. That’s what I’m doing.”

“Practice for what? Earning a new world record for how many times you can make my heart stop?”

“Besides that, it helps me work on my balance when I can’t see.”

“And that can’t be done when you’re not several hundred feet in the air?”

“Nope. Because I can’t mess up when I’m up here. Down there, nothing bad would happen if I fell.”

“That would be the point,” he replied dryly.