Page 52

51

Summer

M y alarm goes off, early morning light streaming in through the window. Beside me, Alice growls softly and tugs the blankets up. I snatch my phone up and turn it off before I become a vampire’s breakfast. I slept fitfully, and for the few moments I was able to drift off, I was back in the forest, the feeling of being watched making my skin crawl. Gia’s lifeless corpse lay on the forest floor, her head turned so she was looking at me, the fear in her eyes present even in death.

I climb out of her bed and pad through the living room to my room. It doesn’t feel like mine anymore. Whoever had done this had meant to take from me, and they had succeeded. Some malevolent being had been in here yesterday. They had touched my things and destroyed some of them, but worse, they had taken what sense of home and security I had managed to carve out for myself here.

I push through the unease and walk through the room, going straight to the closet. As quickly as possible, I change into my running clothes and then hurry from my room. I burst through the door and nearly sprint down the stairs, shoving my earbuds in place. The first song of my running playlist blasts in my ears, and I already feel more relaxed. As soon as I shove through the dorm door, I push into a run, somehow feeling safer outside in the open than in my own home.

The air is cooler now. The afternoons warm up a little, but the crisp nip of the fall is creeping in. My cheeks and nose go a little numb, my lungs burning slightly from the cold air invading them as I push myself on the run.

An image from my nightmare flashes in front of me, and I shake my head, trying to clear it, but they are persistent. Another one flashes across my mind’s eye, and this one is worse. Instead of Gia’s dead body just lying on the ground, she has me pinned against a tree and is choking me. I clench my fists, trying to lose myself to the music, to the beat of my feet against the ground. I am so caught up in my thoughts, in trying to push myself to distraction, that I completely miss a large body moving into my path until I collide with hard muscle.

“You should not be here.”

I blink, looking up and meeting the steely eyes of the headmaster. His hands are braced on my upper arms, steadying me after the collision. I frown and pull my earphones out.

“You should not be here, Miss Tuatha De Daanan,” he repeats, his gaze hard and angry as it so often is in my presence. He releases me and crosses his arms over his chest.

I stare up at him, but I am having trouble focusing on him. Now that I am paying attention, something is pulling at me, my instincts telling me to look past him. Something is calling to me, chanting my name over and over. I crane my neck, trying to look over his shoulder, but he moves with me, his enormous frame easily blocking my view.

Whatever it is behind him, it wants me to see, and it pulls at me again. When I move this time, something in me rises to help. The magic behind him calls to my own, and the compulsion to know what is there overshadows my fear of my powers. I take the headmaster by surprise and use my fae speed, blurring as I duck around him. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. A message is messily drawn onto a large boulder in red, gooey liquid. It’s thick and dark, and the early morning sun shines off it in a grim way. It is unmistakably blood.

YOU CAN ONLY PROTECT HER FOR SO LONG, SON OF MERLIN.

The headmaster growls and shoves in front of me, blocking my view again. I look up at him, my eyes wide. “Sir…”

He lifts his chin, holding my gaze steadily. “The message is for me. They are aware I am protecting you.”

I try to swallow the lump of fear clogging my throat. “Why are they doing this?”

He regards me with his usual coldness. “They want you scared.”

“Why?” I ask uselessly. My power coils in on itself inside of me, that taste surging into a deep desire to use it, to dive into it and never resurface, to hide there.

“They seem to enjoy playing with you. They want your fear. The question is, are you going to give it to them?”

I lose myself in his gaze for a moment, grateful for the chill in it, the icy unfeelingness. I straighten my spine. “No, sir,” I reply, my words strong and sure, not reflecting the fact that my organs have turned to mulch inside me.

He nods once. “I would suggest using the school gym from now on.” Without waiting for my response, the headmaster turns back around and resumes studying the message on the boulder.

I have obviously been dismissed, and I turn, sprinting home, running on pure adrenaline. Who is this person? Why do they hate me? What have I ever done to deserve this?

Could it possibly be Torin? No. There’s no way. He’s not clever enough to pose any sort of challenge to the headmaster. Not patient enough to toy with me.

Alice steps out of her room, wrapped in a blood-red towel. She frowns at me. “You’re back early.”

I don’t even pause on my way to my room. “Wasn’t feeling it,” I lie. The truth is not even a consideration at the moment. What the fuck even is the truth?

“The real question is how you ever feel like running,” Alice quips, returning to her room to change. In a daze, I shower and dress in my uniform. Alice is waiting for me in the kitchen and looks at me expectantly when I come out of my room.

“Let’s go. I need coffee.”

“Absolutely,” Alice agrees. We leave the dorm, walking toward the coffee cart. I am sure it is just a phantom pull, but I can’t keep from looking in the direction of the boulder. I can’t stop thinking about how it called to my magic so potently. No doubt the headmaster has already had it removed. It would create a massive spectacle on campus, plus the Arcane Intelligence Bureau would no doubt want to analyze it and interview every single person on campus.

“Good morning, babe,” Connor says as we approach the coffee cart. He’s holding two large coffees in his hands.

I smile up at him, some of my tension fading away. “Good morning, big guy.”

Alice snatches the coffee from him. “Thank you, bird brain,” she grumbles into her cup as she takes a long sip.

I laugh softly and brush my lips over Connor’s. He smiles and wraps his arm around my waist, and another fleck of tension breaks off.

“How was your night with your brothers?” I ask, pulling back.

Connor smiles down at me. “It would have been better if you’d have been there.” He squeezes me to him. “I missed you.”

Alice slurps her coffee loudly and impatiently, obviously done with watching our mushiness.

“You’re going to be late,” Connor groans as I kiss his jaw, both of us ignoring Alice.

I lift my face for him, waiting for a kiss. “Don’t care.”

Connor brushes his lips over mine. “Okay, well, I’m going to be late.”

I ignore him, deepening the kiss, my tongue dancing with his. Connor moans but pulls back. “Okay, now I really have to go.”

“Fine,” I pout.

Connor nuzzles his nose against mine. “I’ll see you later,” he says before turning and setting off at an easy jog.

Alice and I are some of the last to enter the classroom, and when we sit down, my mind immediately begins to wander. Though I’m sitting in a class about runes, and normally I would be completely captivated, I find myself doodling in my notebook. They are not the usual doodles of boredom. Instead, I’m recreating the message from earlier, down to the way the blood trickled down the stone. As I draw the final N in the message, the page glows faintly. I sit up and stare down at it, watching in horrified amazement as a message appears. It looks like someone else is writing on the paper. The script is elegant, precise, and neat, the words curving along the lined page.

It is a warning.

I frown down at my notebook and then flip my gaze up, looking around. Alice is busy with something on her phone, and no one else seems to be paying me any attention. I look back at the page in front of me and grip my pen harder, pressing it to the paper before writing out a reply.

From you?

No.

The reply comes almost instantly.

Who are you?

I write back while trying to sort through my feelings about this situation. I try to lean into my instincts, but they are eerily silent. It’s like I have gone numb, just one thing too many, and I can’t process all the potential dangers lurking around every corner.

A stranger.

They write back, the words sending a shiver down my spine. It’s such an obvious answer, but it’s truth, and the ambiguity behind it is chilling. This feels strangely familiar to me, but I’m not sure why. It’s nothing like my situation from before.

Do you want to hurt me?

I ask. The question hangs in the air like an oppressive cloud.

There is a beat this time, almost a hesitation before the reply comes.

An odd question. Why would you ask that, little fae?

I shiver at the term and how it makes me feel like prey. Like I am being stalked by the most fearsome of predators. So then, why does it make my stomach flutter?

Leave me alone.

I’m not sure why I didn’t say it sooner, why I’m replying to a haunted-ass notebook.

No.

The reply, once again, comes immediately.

I slam the notebook closed and shove it roughly into my bag. I stand up, and the entire class turns their attention to me as the chair drags over the stone floor.

I swallow and quickly excuse myself from class. My heart pounds painfully hard, and my lungs struggle to expand, the air feeling light and thin. I walk through the corridors, trying to find somewhere to go where I’ll be able to breathe. Everything is spinning, and I stop to lean against the wall, concentrating on breathing. A soft touch slides over my shoulder, and I whip around. I reach back, seeing if something is crawling on me because there is nothing and no one behind me. The touch was faint, but it was definitely there.

“Hello?” I ask into the void. There is no answer, and I’m about to turn away again when something moves in front of me. It’s barely visible, but I can see the slight shift in the air around it when it moves. I take a deep breath and take a small step forward. Very slowly, I lift my trembling hand, reaching out to touch. A hard mass of muscle meets my fingertips. My throat closes, killing my scream, leaving nothing but quiet whimpers between shallow breaths. I want to pull my hand away, but I am frozen in place, feeling the warmth of the… something beneath my fingers. My hair is brushed behind my ear. It’s a gentle gesture, but I still flinch.

“I will not hurt you.” A soft voice carries to me, surrounding me like the gentlest of winds. It is a deep male voice, and I can tell it is warped from the power humming faintly against my skin.

I frown, watching and waiting for its next move. Hearing him speak eases some of my terror. It almost humanizes the apparition, and it helps that there is no anger in the voice. The feeling of malice I had when I was being watched earlier is completely absent now.

The being slowly moves his hand and brushes his fingertips along the back of my wrist. I tilt my head, trying to see more of him. All I can make out is that he is taller than even Uriel and broader than him, too, muscle packed onto a powerful frame. I brush my fingers along his chest, trying to understand it. An elemental avatar like this is not something many can achieve, and having enough control over it so that they are able to talk via the embodiment is very impressive. Why don’t I feel the overwhelming urge to run? Why am I lost to curiosity?

My phone chimes in my bag, and I jump slightly. The form, which appears to be made of wind, disappears, leaving only the echo of a breeze in its wake.

I look around and then hurry into the women’s bathroom, locking the door behind me. I close my eyes and press my head against the door, taking deep breaths.

“Fuck.”

Less than five minutes later, there is a soft knock at the door. “Babe?” Connor’s voice is muffled through the door. “Alice texted me.”

“I’m okay, Con. Just not feeling well.” I pause for a long moment. “I’ll see you later?”

Connor pauses for a second, trying to sort through the heavy meaning between my words. “I’ll just wait here.”

I sigh heavily, realizing that he’s not going to leave. I quickly splash water on my face before opening the door. Connor is leaning against the door frame, his concerned eyes sliding over me.

I walk into him and bury my face against his chest. Connor wraps his arms around me, holding me close. “I got you, babe.”

After a long moment, I tip my head back and look up at him. “I’m okay.”

“It’s okay not to be,” Connor whispers, cupping my cheeks.

I smile and kiss him softly, delving deep within myself to find some truth in the words I’m about to say to my angel boyfriend so that he can’t taste my lie.

“I’m okay, promise.”

Connor exhales in relief, and I take a moment to enjoy the small achievement. The fucked up achievement of successfully lying to my boyfriend. Nice.

“Do you want to cut and go to my house?” he asks, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

I shake my head, knowing the anxiety he will feel cutting a class. “You need to go to class.”

Connor presses his forehead to mine. “I need to be where my girlfriend needs me.”

My heart flutters at the care he’s giving me, the love he never fails to show me. My thoughts scramble, trying to figure out how I can reciprocate and take care of him. He needs to go to class.

“Con—”

“Okay, well, come with me,” he interrupts, obviously knowing I’m about to object again to him skipping school.

“You want me to come with you to your senior class?” I ask, quirking a brow.

Connor shrugs. “Why not? You’ll probably outperform us all.”

“Con, I’m okay. Go to class, and I’ll see you later. Honestly?—”

“Summer. Everything in me is telling me to stay by your side right now.” He looks into my eyes, the sky blue shining with sincerity, with concern. My poor, haunted big guy.

I sigh. “Okay. Let’s go to your class.”

Connor relaxes immediately and closes his eyes, kissing my forehead. “Thank you.”