THIRTY-THREE
Angela curled up into a ball on her bed, squeezing the pillow in her arms. Too scared to sleep because of the nightmares.
Too scared to think about what she’d done or what she was, trapped in this living nightmare, with her body aching from some magickal marathon.
She just wanted to go home and forget everything.
There was a knock on the door. She didn’t move; she already knew who it was because she could feel him.
Throughout everything, they had this impossible connection, where she felt his emotions and he felt hers, and no one would tell her why. Even when her analytical mind kept trying to find the logical explanation, it would slip through her fingers like smoke.
Zarek opened the door. “Angela?”
She didn’t reply.
The door closed, and his steady boot steps stopped beside the bed. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight as he sat down and that ever-present warmth radiated from his skin.
“Do you want something to eat?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“No. You’re sulking.”
“So what?” It annoyed her that he could read her emotions like she did with his. And how she could feel his gentle concern that wrapped around her, whether she wanted it or not.
“You know, what you did yesterday wasn’t wrong.”
“Yeah, I did. I caused damage to the school’s property, soaked those students—who were practically interrogated by the professors over something I did.”
How could she report to class? Not after what she’d done, when she couldn’t even explain it to herself. She’d breached the wards of that classroom designed to protect them from a magick she didn’t know she had.
“I’m so sorry for…” Well, where did she begin? “For everything.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. In this realm, that’s what those classrooms are meant for, to test you so you can make mistakes. And your tiredness is normal when you first learn to use your magick, until your body gets used to it.”
“Who says I want to get used to it?” She sounded like a kid.
“When I was twelve, I burned the floor in the spells room. I was so bored, I’d taken my boots off and fell asleep upright.
” He chuckled softly, a sound so rare it made her turn her head slightly to face him.
“They’d made me wear sunglasses to stop me from reading the minds of the lecturers, in case I cheated on exams. Not that it worked, but I wasn’t going to tell them that. ”
It made her grin that the captain would do such a thing.
“So I learned to fall asleep sitting up. No one knew. Until I accidentally burned the floor. Didn’t know how or why; I just did.
It was the same as what you did yesterday with the rain.
” The bed shifted slightly, and she could feel the weight of his gaze on her.
“I didn’t get the lecture I thought I would.
In fact, they gave me a more suitable path of learning.
They organized a tutor, and my classrooms were confined to those with stone floors.
Couldn’t get away with napping in class anymore. ”
She couldn’t help but giggle. “Well, that explains why your rooms have slate floors and you have a leather suit etched in staves.”
His mouth curved, enough for her to catch that secret smile.
“What I’m trying to say, when normally I say nothing… is that I know what you’re going through, too.”
The fragile admission hung in the air between them. How had she not realized that this was new for him, too?
Most of all, he was trying. For her.
“So I told them you won’t be going back to class,” he continued.
“I know it was part of our treaty, but it’s also more for you to learn about your magick, so I’m changing it.
The Magick School lecturers are working with Bellus to have the textbooks brought here.
Condorr and Tamarr are organizing a desk for this room.
And by the end of the day, I’ll have a schedule for you so you can organize meetings with your tutors.
I’ll even teach you how to send silver threads to the teachers who will work with you privately. ”
Angela sat up in bed. “No more classrooms?”
He shook his head. “You can study in a way that suits you. To learn what you are. And you can come and go outside as you please.”
“When can I go home?” She wanted to get away from all these changes. From the stone corridors, the questioning looks that met with whispers from the others, and the overwhelming, suffocating reality that her entire world was just one big fat lie.
“Not yet.” His voice was gentle, yet heavy with regret. “I wish I could take you home, but I don’t want you in danger. When you feel up to it, we’d like to help you harness that gift you have.”
“I’m a freak.” She collapsed back on the bed, shoving a pillow over her face to hide the burning sensation of shame. “You ever walk into a room where everyone goes quiet? Not because they’re interested, but because they’re uncomfortable?”
“Yes. All the time. I ignore it.”
“Of course you do, you’re the captain.” And he had a presence that made her stomach flutter and her breathing shift every single time.
She pushed the pillow back, like a mask over her eyes.
“I’d make friends at school, and then there’d be some incident, a secret told, a coincidence.
Or they found out that my aunt was this kooky witch, and suddenly their parents didn’t want them around me anymore.
Teachers would avoid calling on me in class all the way through college.
And then, with dating?” She let out a bitter laugh.
“My dinner dates would cancel last minute. Or they’d leave halfway through the meal because they’d said something.
When all I did was listen and ask questions. ”
“Angela, you compel truths out of people. And I don’t think you realize you’re doing it.”
“I what?” She flung her pillow aside and blinked at him.
“I noticed it when they were doing the magick testing. You made the wizards talk to you.”
“So? People talk. That’s what conversation is all about.” She shrugged, still lying on the bed, no doubt getting a nice nest of bed hair.
“You were getting them to tell you their secrets.”
She frowned. “No, I wasn’t.”
“Okay… those dates, you said men left halfway through. Why?”
“Because?” She propped herself up on her elbows as she thought about it. “They’d tell me something they were ashamed of. A few would blush so badly, but they’d all drop their heads, say they needed to go to the men’s room, and I’d never see them again.”
Zarek raised his eyebrow at her. “Cowards.”
“No.” She shook her head. “They’d blame my eyes.”
“Because they’re different colors? That’s lame.” He scowled, shaking his head. “But understandable, when they didn’t know what you were doing to them. You did it with Professor Pete Macrombie. He told us you made him talk.”
She laid her head back on the pillow and blinked up at the ceiling. The guy in the bow tie and walking stick who’d followed her out from the bookshop to the coffee shop. “The guy you sent to spy on me?”
And there it was, the first genuine grin that actually made it to his eyes. And all he said was, “Yeah.”
“So all those dates? All those times people would rush away from me was—”
“Truth compulsion. As someone who can read minds, I know people have secrets. Most of those secrets are hidden because they bring shame.”
Angela’s stomach dropped, still feeling the flicker of shame in herself for what she’d done to that classroom and all those students.
“When you get people to share, like that wizard who almost ran from the interview room, it’s their personal shame they’re dealing with. Their egos are wrestling with how easily they spilled their secrets. Makes them fragile. I’d bet that’s why people shunned you.”
“And blamed my odd-colored eyes?” Which really did sound lame.
“It’s easier to blame something visible than something they can’t explain.”
Angela stared at the ceiling as relief and horror crashed into each other, making gravity so heavy it felt like it was standing on her chest with both feet.
Then, surprisingly, came the relief. There was some other reason, that it wasn’t all about her eyes. A reason why every friendship or date had dissolved or ended in stammered excuses.
But then the horror really laid on the pressure, because she’d been pulling secrets out of people for who knows how long, without knowing, like she’d done with Professor Pete Macrombie.
“I told you off for invading my privacy,” she mumbled. “And I’ve been doing the same thing my entire life. To everyone.”
Zarek shifted in his seat, closer to her legs stretched across the bed. “You didn’t know.”
“That doesn’t make it any better.” She pressed the heel of her palms against her eyes.
“At least you choose to read minds. I’ve been accidentally interrogating people since I was a kid.
But it worked well in court. Oh, wait!” She sat up.
“Did that make me a good lawyer because I had this nifty what’s-it trick? ”
“Truth compulsion,” he corrected. “You ask questions and people answer them. That’s not a violation, Angela. That’s conversation.”
“Except they don’t want to answer. You just said they ran away feeling ashamed.”
“Because they’re not used to being heard.” He tugged on her hands to look at her in a way no man had ever done, as if beyond the bed hair and sulkiness, he was seeing her for who she was.
“Most people bury their secrets so deeply they forget they’re carrying them. When you give them the room to air their truths, even if they didn’t mean to, it can feel like exposure. That’s their shame. Not you.”
She wanted to believe him, but all she could think about was every person who’d ever walked away from her, and how she’d thought she was some freak with bad breath.