Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
M y heart was pounding by the time I reached the courtyard before my first class. I wove between the mass of bodies, their eyes tracking my every movement. Unintelligible whispers carried from groups of friends as I tried to avoid my own.
Someone’s hand glided across my arm as he passed me, too quickly for me to see whose it was. I shuddered against the lingering touch, then noticed a boy with hooded eyes and blonde hair staring at me from the black bench nestled under the trees.
Averting my gaze, I wrung my hands. As much as I enjoyed the freedom of being outside of my house, I couldn’t shake the constant eyes on me. I could sense it everywhere, the questioning stares boring into the back of my head. Although, it was more than that. I could sense the obsession building behind people’s eyes when they saw me, as if they were laying eyes on me for the first time. It was happening again—the confusion flitting on their features, as if they couldn’t understand why they couldn’t look away. I hated it. It was why no past relationship ever worked. I could never be certain if someone’s feelings for me were real, or if they were because of my siren side.
“There she is!”
Lalita’s brown eyes found me as I reached the path leading to the main building. Lalita leaned with her hip against the edge of the weathered fountain, talking to Eleanore, the water babbling cheerfully behind them.
She’d dyed her hair two shades darker since I’d last seen her, the new deep brown complementing the freckles scattered across her nose.
“Hey,” I said, and forced my lips to tilt upward in a smile. Was she mad at me? My stomach dipped as I assessed her expression.
Eleanore folded her arms over her chest. “I wasn’t sure you were coming back. You’ve been silent all summer.”
Lalita waved her hand at her. “Don’t, Elle.” She stepped beside me, her floral scent penetrating my nose as she draped her arm over my shoulder. “We understand.”
Eleanore pursed her lips together, then pushed back the strands of mousy brown hair framing her face. “We were worried. You couldn’t respond to one message?”
What could I say? I had meant to reply to them, but I kept telling myself I would respond tomorrow. By the time I knew it, weeks had passed, then months. “I’m sorry,” I said slowly, my heart rate thrumming like bats' wings in flight.
Lalita stiffened beside me, then whispered. “You don’t owe her an explanation, Z.”
“I know, but I have to get this off my chest.” I shrugged her arm off me, then took a step away.
As my gaze met Eleanore’s, her expression softened, but she kept her arms folded over her chest.
“Honestly, I didn’t know how to cope.” My shoulders rose, then fell in a shrug. “I still don’t. I closed myself off to everyone. I wasn’t trying to ignore you. It just happened.”
I stepped back and hoped it would be enough. The corner of her eye twitched like it always did when she felt conflicted. “I just wanted to be there for you,” Eleanore told me, her voice breaking.
I exhaled slowly. “I know.”
“Everyone copes with grief in their own way,” said Lalita.
What else could I say? I searched my thoughts, but I didn’t know how to put my thoughts into words.
“It’s time for class,” Elenore said, breaking the silence, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “We’ll talk at lunch.”
“Yes.”
Lalita squeezed my shoulder, then turned me to look at her. “I’m glad your mom let you come back. I was worried. We’ll talk later,” she promised, concern crowning her chestnut eyes.
I nodded, then turned, slowly, as if I was moving through dissociation. Without looking back, I kept moving toward the main building for history class.
I waited for guilt, or even annoyance, to make its way into my heart, but all I felt was empty. As always.
Fear dug its claws into my heart.
What if I feel nothing again?
My thoughts quickly drifted away from Lalita and the others. Somehow, it was just easier to not think about those sorts of things and focus on something else. I had become good at distracting myself since dad’s death.
My spine straightened as the ghost of a warm exhalation skated against the back of my ear.
“Hello, pet.”
Pet?
I sucked in a deep breath and clenched my hands into fists. That voice. I couldn’t catch a fucking break.
“What the fuck do you want?”
Jax tilted his head, then ran his hand through his tousled waves. “I had the most curious dreams about you this summer.”
I stilled, goosebumps prickling over my arms. “Cute,” I finally said, shrugging. “But I’m not interested.”
He scoffed. “I’d never be interested in a siren. ”
A low, clipped laugh bubbled from my lips. “Says the phantom.”
“Half,” he reminded, then closed the distance between us. “Although, I suppose, so are you. No, my dreams of you weren’t the romantic kind.” His irises darkened, the stare penetrating my soul.
“What were they?” I asked, noticing the corridor was now empty as everyone hurried to their classes, the final dregs of people leaving up the staircase.
“The kind drenched in blood.”
I shook my head. “I barely know you.”
“Yet,” he said, shoving his hand into his sweatpants pocket, “I’m having premonitions about you.”
“You said they were dreams.”
The corner of his lip lifted. “I did.”
I stepped back, but he gripped my arm, holding me in place. “Most would be taken under your spell,” he said, breathing in the air around my hair. “Yet I am immune.”
“Good.” I pushed his arm, but he didn’t budge.
His nostrils flared, his expression warping into something dangerous, and a glimmer of the phantom aura around him. Jax stepped closer, leaving no space between us, then traced the line of my clavicle with his index finger.
I refused to flinch. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
He narrowed his eyes and grinned. My stomach knotted as I noticed we were completely alone now, our voices echoing around us. “We’re all alone,” he stated, echoing my thoughts.
I ignored his attempts to scare me and scoffed. “Whatever dreams you had, they’re not real. I hate blood,” I stated, trying to keep the sourness out of my tone, but controlling my emotions was never my strong suit.
“No. It must be more than that. In every dream, you’re alone, in that tower where that coven died.”
I ran cold, holding my breath as my eyes widened. My heart raced as I tried to step back. He stepped closer and gripped my chin tightly. His hand was so large his fingers dug into the hollows of my cheeks. I jerked my chin away, then crossed my arms over my chest like flimsy armor.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” I lied, but the memories of my own, similar dreams, circled my mind. But there was no way I was about to tell the asshole of the academy that. Especially knowing his phantom side was as unpredictable as my siren powers. If he thought they were real, who knew what he would do, if he thought me a threat? As I looked up at him, he didn’t look convinced. I knew phantoms could see glimpses of the future, but this was different.
His dreams were too similar to mine.
“Perhaps,” he said, not looking convinced. He loosened his grip, then stepped back. He smirked, then slid his hands into the pockets of his gray sweatpants. My eyes were drawn to the substantial bulge pressed against the fabric. “Gods, it’s hard just being close to you,” he said, releasing a heavy sigh. “That darkness inside of you, it calls to me.”
I smirked as the dynamic shifted slightly. “Maybe you’re not as immune as you think.”
He returned the favor and leered at me with a lascivious grin. “It’s not that.”
My breath hitched as I spotted the predatorial gleam in his glare. It’s the same stare I’d seen, from a distance, in previous years. He struggled to contain the powers of his phantom side, wearing his darkness more readily than other part-phantoms who attended. He was looking at me like I was… “I am not prey, Jax.”
He licked his lips. “Good. I could use a challenge.”
“Oh, hell no.” I turned and walked out of the building. I wasn’t going to class, not if it meant being with him for another hour.
Jax caught up to me within seconds, shortening his strides to keep pace with me. “Why did your dad kill himself?”
“Don’t fucking go there,” I warned.
“My dreams started right after.”
I inhaled sharply. “It might not be suicide.”
He arched a dark brow. “We both know that isn’t true. Our kinds, phantoms and sirens, well, it usually ends messy.”
I swallowed thickly, then slowed my pace. “Not all the time.”
“Do you dream too?” He asked.
“I barely sleep,” I said, evading the question.
His eyes darkened and his lips pressed into a thin line. “Why?”
I furrowed my brows. “Why the fuck do you care?”
His only reply, a quiet growl that rumbled deep in his chest.
We reached the end of the path, and I sat down beneath the branches of a towering pine tree and nestled into the cushion of dried yellow leaves, then rested my back against the trunk.
“Tell me, pet.” He continued, even though I had made it apparent the conversation was over. “When did it start?”
“I’m not talking to you about this. Leave me alone, Jax.”
“Of course you’re a brat.” He sighed, then crouched in front of me. “Can’t you see I’m trying to figure all this shit out? So I can get you out of my fucking head.”
“That’s just too bad,” I replied, although I was curious. But I couldn’t be near him, not when he was callous with his words. I just wanted to be away from it all. “You can’t just come up to me demanding answers and acting like a dick.”
He rolled his eyes, and I glanced up. Dappled sunlight snuck through gaps in the leaves, highlighting the sharp edges of his jaw and cheekbones. He pulled out a textbook and ripped out a page, then scribbled something onto the amputated page and handed it to me. “Call me. We should talk about this.”
“I’m not calling you,” I snapped.
“Yes, you will,” he states arrogantly, then strode away quickly.
I went to tear it up, but something told me not, call it a gut instinct. I shoved it into my bag and watched him until he disappeared.