Gil rescues his fangs and snorts. “Overcompensating.”

Drawing my fake guns, I press against Jamie’s chest, not liking the turn in mood. Damn it, I had been starting to enjoy myself and everything. So what if I’m a bit tipsy? Big deal. I arch my back and lift my foot behind me, nearly losing balance in the pantomime. Jamie wraps the whip around my back, the cord as hard as bone, bracing me. I blush at my unsteadiness, needled by my own embarrassment. “I’m fine.”

“Clearly.” He smiles at the camera and speaks through his teeth. “How much have you had?”

“Relax.”

Leonard lifts the camera strap from his neck. “I think that’s it.”

“Limo’s here,” Kitty calls, darting into the living room to fetch jackets.

“How much?” Jamie releases me from the whip.

“I don’t know.” I copy his clipped tone. “A few?”

“You don’t know?”

Kitty brings me a floor-length pale blue coat with furred hood and cuffs. “Lara wears this when she’s on the ice.”

“Small mercy.” Jamie slings the whip over his shoulder, snatches the coat from Kitty and has me in it before I know what’s happening. He starts buttoning from under my chin.

“Don’t be like that.” Kitty nudges him. “She has her public to think of.” She winks at me and I scowl. You break the Governor’s son’s nose and you’re never allowed to forget it.

Jamie isn’t in the mood. “Did you give Everton champagne?”

“Shhh.” Kitty darts a look over her shoulder. “So?” She screws her nose up and marches off.

“Brilliant.” He swears at the buttons on my coat and I bat his hands away, making him wince and rub his fingers.

I finish hooking the last loops, leaving the parting for my long booted legs. “What’s the deal, sergeant major?”

“I should take you home.”

I stare at him.

“You could hurt someone.” He sucks his bruised knuckles.

I keep staring.

“Not on purpose.” He spreads his hands. “Obviously.”

I can’t stop looking at the corners of his lower lip where they tuck in, the meaning of the furrows in his brow. He is frustrated with me. I fill my chest, straining the toggles on my coat and grit my teeth. “I’m-getting-in-the-limo.” I turn and march out the door, the coat flapping my stride into a flounce.

It’s chilly and dark already. The sky presses low above us, no stars. Only the rising moon, a pale circle, glows fuzzily behind thick clouds. Jamie and Kitty’s parents are on the front porch. Everybody lines up to thank them. I stride right past, jogging down the wide marble steps, relishing the crunch of hard-soled boots on fine gravel, letting my heels drive divots in the path with steps like punches. I climb into the limo, dizzy and squinting against the pink neon floor lights tracing the underside of the leather seats. Jamie comes after me. “Everton,” he says, removing his hat to duck through the door. He lands beside me. I cross my legs and my arms, my head spinning, and glare past him to the porch where Leonard draws Pete aside, pinning him around the shoulders with his long arm. Kitty waits down on the drive giving her father a black look.

“There are rules for a reason.”

“What?” I turn to glare at him but the expression on his face makes my insides shrink. The crushed doorknob, the creaking stair rail, the nearly up-ended hors d’oeuvres, Barb’s comment, Jamie’s fingers. Has the drink really jiggered my signal so that I don’t know my own strength? I ball my fists, feel the thump of my pulse loud in my ears. He means actual rules. A Shield’s code of conduct? I swallow before mouthing the words, “The Affinity Project?”

Jamie’s eyebrows are as high as I’ve seen them. “Surely Miriam said something?”

My jaw tightens and the let-down of adrenaline sends angry jolts stabbing up my spine. Anger always makes the pins and needles bad. Fury makes them painful. The Affinity Project. I want to break something – ram my elbow through the tinted glass window or stick my head out and bellow obscenities at the blank sky. I close my eyes. “Shit.”

One worry-free night. That’s all I wanted. Just one. To be a normal girl, with normal friends, going out to do goddamn normal things. A night with Jamie and nothing between us. Ruined. Thanks again to the Affinity Project, a stain on my blank white page. It’s hard to remember hating anything as much as I hate Affinity; a bone-deep loathing for the faceless unknown and the concrete walls of my own DNA.

Why hadn’t Miriam said something?

Remember, no alcohol.

I dig my nails into my knees at the nudge of guilt. I had taken her warning as generic “parental” advice, not a specific warning about the effect it could have on my genetic modification. Had she assumed I already knew about the risks?

Jamie sighs. “I can take you home.”

“Damn it.”

Abe’s handsome brown face pokes in the door. “Damn, what?” He lifts his half-mask up on to his head and helps Imogen inside.

“Damn, what?” Imogen asks, flushing pink with the excess of chivalry as she shuffles into the seat opposite me. She’s been nervous and embarrassed about the “arranged” date. Abe is making an effort. It’s a good night for her, for him, for everyone but me … me and probably Jamie.

Jamie gives her an easy smile.

I say, “It’s nothing.”

“Come on.” Jamie rises in his seat, taking my hand. I tug him back down. Pete and Kitty are making their way from the porch.

“I’m-not-getting-out,” I say in his ear. “Don’t-make-me.”

He glowers at the limo carpet, worrying the edge of the fedora between his thumb and forefinger.

Kitty climbs in, a petulant curve to her lips. “Dad. Honestly. Such a double standard.” Pete looks pale beneath his Batman mask and I feel a surge of sympathy – he’s just had his page stained too.

“Don’t worry, Pete,” Lila says, following them in. “He wouldn’t really hurt you.”

Gil’s chalked face looms over Lila’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“Neither would I,” Jamie says.

Pete glances at him and then away.

I jab my elbow into Jamie’s ribs.

He grunts and grabs his side.“That’s what I’m talking about.”

I thought I’d barely touched him. Pressure builds in my chest. My eyes sting. No, I can’t start crying! I bite the inside of my cheek.

Kitty takes Pete’s hand onto her lap and glares at her brother. “I didn’t see you get a speech.”

“I’m responsible,” Jamie says.

“Now, maybe,” Gil calls. Abe laughs. Pete seems to know better.

The music cranks up as the limo starts, drowning out Kitty’s retort. Kaylee and Eric climb in. I wait for Jamie to say something, to stall the driver, come up with an excuse for staying behind. He doesn’t say anything. Lila cheers and Gil sings loudly and off-key. We travel slowly down the long driveway and pull out into the road, forest on the left, the leafy expanse of the Gallaghers’ estate stretching into shadows on the right. Getting my own way doesn’t feel like a win. My body’s too heavy for my bones.

Jamie slips his hand through mine and leans close. “I’m not trying to be a killjoy, Everton. You almost broke my rib just now.”

I chew the inside of my lip.

He kisses my forehead. “Just another thing, isn’t it? The price we pay for all the stuff we shouldn’t be able to do. If you weren’t – if I wasn’t–” Jamie’s head snaps left. “I don’t think so, Kit.”

Kitty freezes with a hipflask halfway to her lips, her mouth hardening. Before she can tell Jamie to get lost, Pete pulls the flask from her hands and passes it to Gil who screws the cap back on and hides it in his cape.

“Bloody hell, Dad.” Kitty scowls at her twin. “Mind your own business.”

“Newsflash,” Jamie says. “This is exactly what that looks like.”

Gil whistles long and low.

Kitty swells in her seat and I’m glad when she starts her rant. I don’t want to hear Jamie theorising about a life where we aren’t what we are because the only way that can happen is if we’re apart. It’s bad enough knowing it’s inevitable. I can’t bear to hear him wishing for it.