Somebody screamed as Quentin flailed around on fire. Isa watched with growing horror as other gladiators surrounded him and patted the fire away. His toga smoldered, breaking off of him in chunks where it didn’t cling to burnt flesh. Quentin stood there, moaning in pain and panting for breath, held up by his friends.

“Holy shit this hurts,” he groaned, shuddering. The smell coming off of him was disturbingly appetizing.

Isa turned away, wrinkling her nose. “So do something about it,” she barked, to the scattered laughter of some of the gladiators. “You’re ruining the party.” Razia shot her a look, but Isa just smiled sweetly at her.

A second later, a strangled cry pierced the night before cutting off. When Isa looked back over to Quentin, his too pale skin looked fresh and pinker than normal, with blackened skin hanging off him. “This better?” he shot back.

She kept her eyes above his neck. “Mildly.” Her expression softened. “Are you okay?”

Quentin rolled his neck around, wincing. He clutched at his stomach. “I will be. Think he’s coming back?”

Razia came up to his side, tentatively hugging him. “Probably not. He likes making big dramatic gestures and then running off. I don’t know what he plans on doing, but we won’t see him again tonight. Or probably a few days. I intend to make use of that and celebrate. How about all of you?”

Everyone visibly relaxed. “I won’t say no to a night’s break,” said Pete, leaning against the front of the building. “We’ve been working hard and we’ve won.”

“Then let’s go get fucked up,” Jonas crowed. He got some cheers and the Shades went inside, Quentin, Razia, and Isa out on their own.

“Seriously, how badly does that hurt?” Isa asked, moving a little closer. She thought about reaching out to touch the freshly healed skin and thought better of it. It would only make Razia more smug, and Isa had enough of her shit lately.

“Each time I heal it feels like I’m getting hurt all over again,” said Quentin. “It’s like I feel all the pain at once and then it’s gone, but it kind of lingers in my head. Like I should be feeling more pain and so I almost do. Like a really intense memory. Mostly, it makes me hungry.”

Razia laughed and buried her face into his chest. “Let’s get you some food then. You deserve a nice rest and some fun.”

And then they went inside, leaving Isa on her own. A previously unknown knife twisted inside her. Jealousy…Isa never thought she’d be the jealous type, but how could she not be? Not of Razia, that would be silly. She wanted what they had, what felt completely out of reach for her. Not either of them themselves, but that personal satisfaction.

It wasn’t fair.

Briefly, she thought about heading to her room and just sulking for the rest of the night. It would mean not having to pretend to be in a good mood or worrying about offending someone with her bitterness, but…Ramali didn’t hide. If she had to put on her bitch face and just schmooze around the party, she would do just that.

Inside, the party thrived. After killing Christophe and that bitch Kelli, how could they not immediately celebrate? Even Isa’s paranoid ass couldn’t resist a much needed party and victory. They pulled out all the stops, hiring a band and buying a huge spread of food from some of the rebuilt food vendors on the Boulevard. Anything to buy some good will and help with the repair of their new territory.

The house had never been so full, with most of the remaining shades, all of their workers and a great number of new additions to the inns nearby all dancing and laughing. All of them were having fun. Isa moved past them, heading straight for the food. She stopped when she spotted Lucy just around the corner in the bathroom, alone.

“What’re you doing in here?” Isa asked, looking around. “And how have those horny bastards not started another orgy in the tub?”

“It’s still early,” Lucy answered with a snicker. She shrugged, waving a bottle of wine around. “I’m just…It’s loud and I have a bit of a headache. I might skip out and stay next door for the evening.”

Memories of the auction assaulted her. Isa sneered, and the words came tumbling out of her mouth. “What, one night with the two of them and they’re making you a permanent fixture? Big leap from never having to fuck him.”

“What?” Lucy made a face, “No. Nothing like that. Why would you say that? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

Isa froze. “I’m sorry,” she said, sighing and staring at the ground. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“No,” said Lucy, taking a drink, “I didn’t. What’s on your mind? Not like you don’t bite peoples’ heads off, but usually not me. What’s bothering you?”

What a question. Isa opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. “I don’t know,” she finally said, lying through her teeth. “Just all the stress of everything happening lately. They think it’s over now, or at least for a little while, but I know better. It’s never over, especially not with how many enemies we have and potential predators and scavengers trying to get a piece of us. Partying won’t make any of that less real.”

Lucy shrugged. “No, but having one night where we don’t have to think about it could make things easier, right? We don’t need to stress about it every waking moment, do we? Look, I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t feel great about…what we did. To Kelli. She deserved to die, but I…” The hand holding the bottle shook. With a groan, Lucy slid down the wall until she sat on the ground.

Isa joined her there. “I offered to do it myself,” she admitted. “I don’t feel bad for it. That bitch nearly got Samantha killed. If she had succeeded, I would’ve killed her before that. But we needed her for the plan, and she played her part well enough. May the Darkstar piss on her.”

“I get that,” Lucy sighed. “I don’t think…killing her wasn’t wrong, but I shouldn’t have done it. I should’ve let you do it. But I felt like if I didn’t do it, it wouldn’t have been…unified, I guess. I felt like I had to. I didn’t like it.”

“And that’s why you want to go hide in Quentin’s house,” Isa said, understanding now. Lucy nodded, not looking at her.

Isa said nothing, but took the bottle from Lucy. She took a drink and thought about it. What did it say about her that she felt nothing but satisfaction at killing Kelli? The fear in her eyes as they threw her to the ground and perforated her made Isa happy. It wasn’t just hate for an annoying pest. Betrayal hit harder than that. A part of her wished Kelli could come back just to stab her all over again. Maybe that meant something bad about Isa, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

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The sound of the party came through dim with a wall between them, and there was a comfort in that. Music and laughter, just on the edge of hearing while Isa and Lucy enjoyed a moment of solitude and companionship. Of course Isa had to ruin it.

“What was it like? After the auction.”

Lucy looked at her curiously. “I really appreciate you trying to look out for me, but it wasn’t bad. It was good. Not like dealing with clients at all. I didn’t feel forced or disrespected or like a platter of meat. I’d probably do it again if they wanted, but I don’t think they really mean to. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” said Isa. She climbed to her feet. “If you want to hide out, go for it. Just take a plate of food with you first. No sense in letting it go to waste.”

Lucy smiled at her, waving her off as she took another drink. Isa returned to the party.

The sound of stringed instruments beckoned Isa. As uptight as she knew she could be, music was a special joy. All the couches had been moved elsewhere and now people danced there. She drifted over to the center of it, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to relax. Isa abandoned herself to the sound of the drums and horns transforming the Garden from a place of lascivious delights to something more communal and playful.

And it worked. To her relief and surprise, just moving to the music and bumping up against the other girls felt good. Dancing with everyone and no one, just allowing herself to be one of the night flowers of the Moonlit Garden, beautiful and powerful and safe with friends. They won and all they had to worry about now was picking up the pieces and expanding, growing stronger. She’d almost managed to put the future out of her mind when Jonas began dancing with her.

The young gladiator was honestly beautiful. His lean, wiry frame held his muscles well and she really did like looking upon his sharp, angular features. They somehow managed to be welcoming instead of harsh. He looked good, but the way he looked at Isa bothered her. He liked her too much, and his desire shone like a beacon. Jonas wanted more than she had to offer.

Sighing, she allowed him to get close, even putting her arms around his shoulders and hanging off them as they twirled and moved together to the music. Isa even allowed herself a moment of indulgence, running a hand through his hair and taking a momentary pleasure from the way his eyelids fluttered shut. She may have been lonely, if Isa were honest with herself, but she could get company any time she wanted.

There weren’t any problems until Jonas decided to take it a step further. When the music changed to something slower he turned around and pressed himself back up against Isa, writhing against her and reaching over his head to cup hers and pull her closer. It’s what he wanted, but she didn’t. Isa pulled away.

“What?” Jonas asked, honestly looking hurt.

“Nothing,” said Isa. “Go find Cullen or Tenchi or someone. Anyone else.” She moved away from the dance floor, pushing her way past anyone even mildly inconveniencing her. When she got to the other side, she froze.

Quentin sat to the side, wearing only his underwear. The bits of blackened, charred flesh were off of him now, leaving him looking smooth and strong. For a change, he didn’t seem uncomfortable or self conscious. Especially not with Razia sitting sideways in his lap, snuggled up. After a few seconds of staring he looked up. Seeing Isa, he smiled. “Hey,” he said. “You enjoying yourself?”

“No,” Isa growled. She stormed out to the gardens, where two people were already making out, getting hot and heavy. “Take it to a fucking room,” she barked.

They jumped apart, looking like two teenagers caught in the act. A closer look showed it wasn’t too off the mark. They skulked off, shooting baleful glances her way. Isa went to the bench opposite theirs and collapsed in it, hugging herself. She knew she was being ridiculous, and she didn’t care. This was her party too, and she’d be ridiculous if she wanted to.

“Are you okay? You seem angrier than usual,” Quentin said, stopping a couple feet away from her.

“What happened to you always being covered up?” Isa demanded, not looking at him.

“What happened to ‘I’ve already seen you naked and I don’t care’?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him cross his arms over his chest. “What’s going on, Isa?”

Part of her thought about giving him an answer, just unloading on him. It sounded so satisfying, but…even she couldn’t bring herself to intentionally ruin a party celebrating him living up to his end of the bargain. Isa knew she could be an angry, hateful bitch sometimes, but what people didn’t know was that she was trying to be better, in spite of herself.

Quentin sighed. He chanced getting close to her, sitting down on the corner of the bench tentatively. When she didn’t say anything or move, he relaxed a little. Isa hated how aware she was of his every action. “I think I know what this is about,” he said.

Isa’s blood ran cold. “Oh?”

“Razia told me. About the kiss.”

That bitch. That insufferable, interfering bitch. “She told me she wasn’t going to say anything,” Isa hissed. “I guess I should’ve known better than to believe a liar. Bet you had a good laugh when you found out, huh?”

Quentin shook his head vehemently. “Not at all. I’ve never laughed at you. Not sure I could. Partially because I’m afraid you’d kick my ass.”

“Don’t patronize me!” Isa snapped. “We both know there isn’t anything I could do to you that would make a difference.”

“Do you think me that invincible?” Quentin asked. “Or that I’m unaffected by what you think and feel of me?”

Isa turned to him, glaring daggers at him. “You going to try to tell me that you care what I think? If you did, you wouldn’t have stuck around after I told you at the beginning to fuck off and leave us all alone.”

Quentin smiled, and Isa hated how much she liked the dumb look on his face when he did. “You mean when you were the only sane person looking out for your group of friends? I respected you then, I respect you now. You’re…Not an easy person to like, Isa, but you care. And given how you talk to everyone, it's hard to take it personally.”

“So what, how I am is a joke to you?” Isa stood up and went to the gate. One of the courtyard guards who had been peeking in jumped and moved away.

“You’re never a joke to me, Isa,” Quentin said, voice as soft and even as ever. “Is that what you’re worried about? That I would find this funny? I don’t. Mostly…I’m curious.”

Her heart quickened. “Curious?” she said, whirling around. “Curious about what, exactly?”

Quentin shrugged, looking away. “I get that Razia cares for me, and even almost understand why. She’s never been shy about saying what she thinks or feels. But you? I guess I’m curious what you want from me. And why…why me?”

The questions pierced Isa, tightening her throat and making her mouth dry up. The worst part about those questions was that she thought of them constantly and hated how hard she found them to answer. “I don’t want anything from you,” she said. “Not a damned thing. Why can’t you and Razia understand that? It was a moment of madness, with you lying there dead and looking extra pathetic. Is that really so hard to understand?”

Quentin took a step forward. Isa took one back. He cocked his head to the side, an infuriating smile on his face. “I don’t think that’s true,” he said. “I’m not as smart as you or Razia, but I’m not stupid either. I notice things. I think you did hate me at first, but something changed. I just want to know what. I think I deserve that at least.”

Isa took a long, deep breath and let it out, deflating. The worst part was she couldn’t argue with him. “Fine. You want to know why? You’re a clumsy, blundering fool, but no matter how hard I try I can’t seem to find any real issues with you. Isn’t that stupid? You don’t think things through but you’re not a bad man, even though you could be. You could be the worst, but you’re quiet and kind and you actually care and I hate it.

“I hate being wrong, and here we are. I hate you because I can’t hate you. Do you have any idea how frustrating that is?”

Quentin chuckled. He took another step forward and Isa backed up against the metal gate. She couldn’t go any further, couldn’t escape. He closed in until he stood close, too close for comfort. Isa craned her head up to look at his face. She swallowed hard, considering hitting him in the stomach and running, but that would be a weakness. Ramali didn’t run.

“Right from the start you’ve been a bit of a pain in the ass,” he said. “Never gave me a break. I love that about you. You don’t accept anything less than someone’s best and you’re always ready to fight, even when it’s not a good idea. You’re smart, beautiful, and fiery. Any man would be lucky to have you, you know.”

Isa scowled. “I don’t need anyone,” she whispered. “I’m better than that.”

“I know. You don’t need anyone, but you want me, don’t you? I don’t know why, but…I…” Quentin made a sound in the back of his throat before he leaned in.

Isa saw it coming. She could have dodged it she wanted, or maybe pushed him away, yelled at him, something. She didn’t. Quentin’s lips met hers, tentatively at first. Just like him it was quiet, unassuming, even gentle. Everything Isa was not. She nipped sharply at his lip, expecting him to pull away.

He didn’t. Quentin grasped her by her wrists and pinned her against the gate hard. He deepened the kiss, biting her back and making her mind go blank. When they broke apart, he panted and looked at her with those unsettling eyes and he smiled. “Isn’t that better?” he whispered.

“Fuck you,” Isa groaned, willing herself to calm down. It didn’t work.

“Maybe later,” he said, smiling.

“What happened to being too shy for this shit?” Isa demanded, resolve weakening.

Quentin shrugged, pulling her wrists down from above her head but not releasing her. His hands were like iron, and Isa doubted she could get away even if she wanted to. She didn’t. “A lot’s changed. I’ve changed. And after all of this, I don’t see a reason to deny myself anything I want, so long as it’s not hurting anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”

“And you want me?” Isa scoffed.

Quentin smiled. “Well, if you’d rather I not…” He made to pull away, laughing when Isa made a distressed noise.

“I hate you,” she said without venom.

He shrugged. “I don’t hate you.” And then he kissed her again.

Isa let herself surrender to it, stomach fluttering.