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“I think I’m just tired,” I murmur, pressing fast to his chest. “Tripping has that effect.”

“For a moment there, you looked truly frightened. What was it you thought I said?”

I draw away, making quick study of the hard line of his jaw, the sharp angle of his cheekbones, the bottomless depths of his ocean-blue gaze.

“Nothing,” I say. “Just a trick of the wind, that’s all.”

With his arm slung loosely around me, he walks me back to my room. And though physically I feel as close to him as ever, mentally we are a thousand miles apart, barely exchanging so much as a word.

“Should I come in?” he asks once we’ve reached my door.

I shake my head. “If you do, I’ll never be able to hold out until Venice.”

Braxton grins, but the tension at the edge of his mouth hints at his mood from before.

Eager to erase it, I tip onto my toes and press a kiss to his lips. But well before it takes hold, I pull away, press my thumb to the keypad, and say, “See you tomorrow?”

“And every day after,” he calls, making his way down the hall.

Once I’m inside with the door closed behind me, I sink down to the floor.

Outside these walls, a fierce storm continues to rage.

Inside my head, I recreate the scene in the Moon Garden, until I can clearly see Braxton, his gaze locked on mine, his voice so low and deep it’s like he’s right here before me.

“So tell me, Tasha,” he says. “What did you really get up to today?”

30

The storm raged all night.

And since I wasn’t about to sneak outside and scale theMagicianstatue in eighty-plus-mile-an-hour winds to search for a book that may or may not be hidden in there, I opted for sleep instead, telling myself I could always wake up early and try again.

Only, I didn’t wake up early. I slept straight through my alarm.

And then, I continued to sleep right through the chiming of my slab announcing the inspirational quote of the day.

It’s not until the phone in my room starts ringing that I’m finally cut loose from my dreams.

Since we rely on our slabs for pretty much everything, the phone is an emergency-only device. And I guess I’ve gotten so used to ignoring its presence on my nightstand, I’ve forgotten it even existed.

“You okay there?” a voice barks before I have a chance to eke out a greeting. And right away, I recognize that voice as belonging to Arthur. “I had breakfast sent to your room,” he says, and as if on cue, there’s a knock at my door.

“I think they’re here now,” I tell him, already bolting from bed.

“Good. When you’re ready, head downstairs. Directions will be sent to your tablet.”

I’m about to ask him what this is about when Arthur hangs up.

The knock sounds again, and I race for the door. When I see the delivery guy standing in an otherwise empty hallway, I motion for the tray and tell him I can take it from here.

After helping myself to some coffee and a wedge of croissant, I pull my hair into a ponytail, slip on a pair of black leggings and the first pair of sneakers I see. Then after tugging on the blue Gray Wolf Academy sweatshirt that’s pretty much mandatory on school days, I sling my Gray Wolf logo tote onto my shoulder and am about to head out when I remember the perfume bottle and note sitting on the window ledge and the golden pocket watch I left on my nightstand.

Knowing I can’t leave them out in plain sight, I toss it all in my bag, and as I’m on my way out the door, I check my slab for today’s inspirational quote:

Fortune favors the bold. – Virgil

Here’s hoping it’s true.