Page 73

72

Summer

“ Y ou sure you don’t want to go home with that guy?” I stumble into Alice as we walk through the quad, the moon shining down on us.

“Please, he had the weirdest-looking dick,” Alice scoffs, her words just as slurred as mine.

I burst out laughing and bump into her again, wrapping my arm around her shoulders as we walk. “I love you, my Alicey.”

“I love you, my wife!” She practically screams the last word. We both stumble and almost fall into a bush.

When we get back to our dorm room, we fall through the door and collide with the floor.

Alice pushes me. “You’re drunk!”

“I am not!” I protest though the room spins as I try to sit up. Laying back down, I stare up at the ceiling. Alice shifts closer, her arm touching mine.

“Fuck, how did I get this drunk?” I ask, focusing on a small crack in the ceiling.

“Probably when you challenged Zane to a shot competition,” she replies thoughtfully.

“Well, at least I won.”

Alice exhales deeply. “I… may have a confession.”

I quirk a brow, glancing at her.

“I might have drugged his drink.”

I blink and then burst out laughing, thinking about how Zane went from being semi-drunk to completely hammered in the blink of an eye.

“In my defense, he was being a prick.”

“So that’s why Connor had to carry him home.”

Alice snickers. “Maybe. He’s been hogging you, anyway. It’s my turn.”

I laugh and shift so I can rest my head on her shoulder.

We stare up at the ceiling, and there is a small flare of magic as Alice slices into her finger. Suddenly, the most ethereal sky I’ve ever seen takes the place of the ceiling. Stars twinkle in their constellations, replacing the overhead light. They swirl soothingly on an indigo background in a symphony of blues, greens, and purples.

“You and your attempts at runes are turning my hair gray, Legosi. Though, nice work on this one.”

Alice flips me off, still staring up at the ceiling. “This one I knew from before Avalon. I like sleeping beneath the stars.”

I nod, curling into her more, feeling the pull of exhaustion. “I’m spending Yule with you, by the way. Hope that’s cool.”

“You are?” Alice asks, surprised. “What about Connor?”

“We’ll all spend the day before Yule together, and then I’ll come home with you. That is if you’re still going to Dr?culea. If not, we’ll stay here.”

Alice sighs heavily. “I have to go home, but now it won’t suck so much.”

I slide my hand into hers, knowing my best friend needs some comfort. I definitely made the right decision because even the mention of her home causes Alice pain. There is no way I will let her go back for Yule on her own.

“Plus, you’ll get to see me make some vampires cry.”

“The perfect present. I’ve already got your present, you know.” I had managed to save enough credits by performing well in classes, and I was able to buy gifts for Alice and Connor.

“You have?” Alice looks at me. “What is it?”

“A surprise.”

“I hate surprises,” Alice grumbles.

“Too bad.”

Alice squeezes my hand. “Sum?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for not letting me go alone. I’m happy I met you,” Alice says, her voice thick with emotion and sincerity.

“I love you, Al.”

Alice’s soft snores cut me off, and my lips twitch. I look up at the ceiling again, letting my mind wander.

Could Connor have meant what he said about wanting to marry me in the future? How could he possibly see anyone as damaged as me as someone he could build a life with? I am a mess and bring nothing but trouble. I am being hunted. Torin will never stop coming for me, and now there are the murders on campus that may be tied to me.

Perhaps it’s time to take up the investigation myself. It is clear the authorities are getting nowhere, and for whatever reason, the headmaster is reluctant to share his theories with me, but he did share the grimoire. Perhaps he was telling me to investigate without actually telling me. I should probably increase my training days with Max and see him four or five times a week consistently. I should also try to stop being such a stubborn asshole when I’m around him.

I watch the sky shift and swirl, letting my mind drift to where I have been keeping it from going all night. He said he would be away. Away where? Another realm? Perhaps one where he can exercise that muscle he enjoys flexing so much, the controlling one. The one that enjoys being obeyed.

I grab my phone, and before I’ve considered it, I’ve sent a message to him.

There is no immediate reply, no sign that he has even read my message. Usually, the second my message leaves my phone, he’s already typing a response to me. I watch the screen, my stomach churning. I can’t stop thinking of our last encounter, the casual touching, the whispered words. He’s busy. Probably at some orgy realm where he can command a gaggle of women all swooning after him. Dick.

Pissed, I toss my phone to the side, but my anger only gets worse when I lunge for my phone when it pings a few minutes later. I eagerly open the chat. He has sent me a photo of what is clearly another realm. The sky is almost navy, and what I assume is grass is purple and looks furry. At the bottom of the photo is a pair of perfectly buffed black shoes. I zoom in on them to see if I can catch a reflection of my stranger in them, but no such luck.

So no then?

I see the three little dots bobbing up and down at the bottom of the screen, and I watch them intently.

I frown at my phone. Recently? So he has been.

My stomach coils as I send the message. There is something so deliciously seductive about pushing back.

Something that feels a lot like satisfaction crawls through me, trailing warmth in its wake. So even though he is off-realm, he continues to watch me. I know he said he would, but a part of me thought it might be out of sight, out of mind. Did I hope for that?

I wait for a reply, but when none comes, I take a photograph of myself lying on the floor. The light from the swirling sky overhead reflected on my face. I send him the photo, hoping for a reply.

Please. As if you don’t know, Stranger. With a flicker of mischievousness, I type out a reply.

I have no idea where that came from, but I am pretty sure I will regret this in the morning. Or perhaps, once again, my inebriated mouth is more ready than I am to drop truths.

So he wants that?

I read over his message once, twice, fifteen times. My core pulses, and my heart slams in my chest. It takes a few minutes before I finally get a grip on myself.

My head swims for a long moment, and I feel something akin to guilt before the alcohol sinks its claws deeper into me and everything goes black.