Jade
“Checking the water levels,” Logan answers Miles’s question smoothly, like we’re not standing in what was just a supernatural battlefield. “The tide’s coming in faster than usual. It probably won’t reach the third floor, but we should clear it, just in case.”
Miles descends a few steps, his firelight sweeping across the water.
Logan keeps his focus on Miles. “Why did you come down here?”
“I was looking for you, actually.” Miles’s eyes fix on Logan with an intensity that makes my skin prickle. “I asked Evie to help, since she’s skilled at reading heat signatures. Oliver’s been bragging about her for years to anyone who would listen.”
Evie shifts uncomfortably behind him. “It’s not that impressive. Oliver exaggerates.”
Logan stiffens, evaluating Evie. “You tracked us here?” he asks, and his exhaustion seems to vanish, replaced by something coiled and ready.
“I noticed heat signatures heading to the second floor.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, unable to meet Logan’s gaze. “I didn’t think anyone ever came this way, so it was worth a shot.”
Miles glances at me, and his body goes rigid. “That’s Alessandra’s dagger.”
My grip tightens on the leather hilt, my heart racing. Because how does he know that? Why does he care?
“Where is she?” His voice sharpens. “What happened to Alessandra?”
“She’s upstairs.” Logan doesn’t miss a beat. “Where else would she be?”
“Why does Jade have her blade?” Miles refuses to let Logan’s deflection distract him.
I start to open my mouth to explain, but what would I say? That Alessandra threatened me, made my forbidden electricity magic flare up, pulled a dagger on me, Logan intervened, and then he compelled her to forget the entire thing?
Logan raises his hand, and orange fire blooms in his palm, with that same sharp dark edge as before.
“Go back upstairs.” He looks between Miles and Evie, sweat beading on his forehead, the flame sputtering as if it’s struggling to stay alive. “Enjoy the party. Forget you came looking for us.”
“Back upstairs,” Evie murmurs, already turning. “The party.”
Miles’s lips press into a thin line, reaching for something in his jacket pocket, but he turns as well.
They climb the stairs with mechanical movements. It’s not quite the sleepwalker shuffle of Alessandra, but close.
When they disappear around the bend, Logan sags against the wall.
“Are you okay?” I reach for him, but he waves me off.
“Using it multiple times in one night is difficult.” He says it like an observation, not a complaint. “But we need to move. Now.”
I want to argue again. Push him to explain… everything. But he looks so exhausted that I can’t bring myself to do it. Especially since the reason he’s so exhausted is because he just saved my life twice.
I’m going to get answers. I won’t rest until I do. But it’s clearly not going to happen right now, or even tonight in general.
“Fine,” I say again. “But we’re talking about this later.”
My legs feel like lead as we splash through the rising water to the stairs, the dagger weighing heavy in my hand.
Alessandra’s dagger, which Logan is going to have to return to her without raising her suspicions.
Although given his impossible compulsion magic, I suppose it shouldn’t be a problem for him.
“I’ll take that,” he tells me, apparently noticing me staring at it. “Next time, remember to bring your own weapon. You should never be without it.”
I hand it over, my heart dropping when he avoids touching me while taking it from me. It’s like he’s afraid of being shocked by my electricity, although my magic clearly doesn’t hurt him that much, given what happened between us right before we were attacked and nearly killed.
He puts the dagger inside his jacket, turns away from me, and we continue up to the third floor in silence.
It’s quieter on this floor than the others, since most people are either dancing above or drinking on the roof.
The only reason to come here is to use the bathroom, and that’s tucked all the way in the back.
But there’s one other person in the main room, tucked into an alcove near the windows.
Nina.
She sits cross-legged with a notebook in her lap, sketching something by the light of the torches.
“Perfect,” Logan mutters, the word sounding like a curse.
Nina looks up as we approach, her sharp eyes taking in our waterlogged state. “What happened to you two?”
“Nina.” Logan’s voice turns layered and melodic as he creates more of those dark flames in his hand. “Jade came down here to use the bathroom about twenty minutes ago, and you’ve been hanging out here since, talking and getting to know each other. Becoming friends.”
She lowers her pencil. “We have?”
“Yes. Go back upstairs and tell anyone who asks that you and Jade were together. Bonding. First-year solidarity.”
Her eyes glaze over like the others, but there’s something different in them. A flicker of resistance before she nods.
“Jade and I were talking,” she repeats. “Third floor. Getting to know each other.”
“Good.” Logan nods. “Now, go back to the party.”
Nina closes her notebook, stands with eerie smoothness, and does as instructed, leaving me and Logan alone again.
I watch him carefully, waiting, hoping he’ll address everything now instead of later.
“We need to go.” He pushes off from the wall, but he sways, catching himself against the stone.
“Oh god, are you—” I move toward him, close enough to see the controlled way he breathes, like he’s managing pain through sheer will. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“I’m fine,” he says, but when I reach for his arm to steady him, he doesn’t pull away.
“You don’t look fine.” My fingers tighten on his arm. “Using compulsion on everyone is hurting you. Not to mention how hard you fought down there. We need to go back to the dorms. You need to rest.”
“Compelling other witches is taxing.” His eyes meet mine, and despite everything, heat flickers between us. “But I’ll recover. I always do.”
The intensity in his gaze makes me hyperaware of how close we are, of the way his body radiates heat despite the cold water dripping from our clothes.
“Logan...” I trail off, not knowing what I’m asking. For answers? For reassurance? For him to tell me I didn’t just kill murderous mythological creatures in an ancient flooding tower?
“I’ll explain everything later. I promise.” His hand covers mine where it rests on his arm, his eyes searching mine. “Will you trust me?”
“Yes,” I say automatically, since how can I not trust him after how many times he’s saved my life?
“Good.” He straightens, his features not quite as pale as they were a few minutes ago. “Now, we need to dry off.”
He raises his hand, and the flame that appears is steadier, yellow burning around the edges. A warm breeze swirls around us, and my clothes steam slightly as the water evaporates, leaving them dry.
“Impressive,” I say, not finding even a hint of dampness on them.
He looks me over and smirks. “Far from the most impressive thing I’ve done tonight.”
My cheeks heat at the memory of his lips on mine, his hands on my body…
“No,” I agree. “Definitely not the most impressive thing you’ve done tonight.”
His eyes darken, and I swear he’s about to kiss me again. Hopefully more. But then he steps back, the warm air dissipating, breaking the spell between us. “You go up first,” he says. “I’ll follow in a few minutes.”
I blink a few times to reorient myself, taking in the circles under his eyes and the sheen of sweat on his brow. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Go.” He wipes away the sweat, life already returning to his eyes.
“Okay,” I say, because this is Logan Ashford. If anyone can take care of themselves, it’s him. “And Logan—thank you. For everything.”
“Always.” The certainty in his tone makes it clear he means it.
So, I turn and climb the stairs, getting closer to the party above that seems surreal in its normalcy.
Music pounds, bodies move, and everyone’s oblivious to what happened below. As I scan the area, I find Miles standing at a table off to the side, bent over that damn notebook again, pen moving across the page with focused intensity.
“Jade!” Evie’s voice cuts through the noise. “There you are!”
She appears at my elbow with Oliver and Avery, all three looking various degrees of concerned and tipsy.
Oliver’s arm slides around my shoulders, easy and warm. “Where have you been?” he asks. “We were starting to think you’d fallen in.”
“I was with Nina.” The lie rolls off my tongue, tasting strange. “We were talking on the third floor after I used the bathroom. I lost track of time.”
Evie shares a confused look with Oliver, whose face goes serious in response. “Nina?” she asks. “Really?”
“Yeah, she’s actually really interesting.” I talk faster now, needing to keep going so they can’t push back. “We were comparing notes about combat training. She’s got some great insights. Lots of things that will help me moving forward.”
The lies come easier than they should.
Is this how it starts? One secret to protect someone close to you, then another, then another, until you can’t remember which version of yourself is real anymore?
It must sound believable enough, because Evie launches into a story about how strange Nina was when they were kids, when her Massachusetts-based coven visited Nina’s coven in New Orleans.
Avery, of course, finds a way to jump in. “Nina’s crush on Oliver was the most transparent thing in existence,” she says with a small laugh. “Right, Oliver?”
“That was a long time ago.” Oliver stiffens, then turns to me. “Dance with me?”
Sensing his discomfort, I let him pull me into the mass of bodies, allowing the music to drown out my thoughts.
But as his hands settle on my waist, all I can think about is different hands in a different place.
Logan touching me with focused intensity, teaching me control while making me lose it completely.
“You okay?” Oliver’s breath tickles my ear. “You seem distracted.”
Distracted. That’s one word for it.
“Just processing the night,” I say, which isn’t even a lie.
He pulls me closer, and I catch Avery watching us from the edge of the dance floor. The longing on her face makes my chest tighten with guilt, even though I’ve done nothing wrong.
Even though my heart hurts at the knowledge that the only person I want is probably leaning against a wall a floor below, and that the next time I see him, he’ll be back to pretending I mean nothing to him at all.