Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“Then you have to hear it!” Kira’s voice is louder than I have ever heard.
Her glossy black hair is pulled up into a high ponytail today and it swings furiously as she faces me square on, the file clutched against her chest. “He was kicked out of his last college in London. He did dangerous magic there, too.”
“You just think it’s dangerous because you can’t do it!” I exclaim. “You’re prejudiced against his coven!”
“No, because he killed another student!” Kira yells back. “A shifter student!”
“That’s—that’s crazy, don’t say shit like that.
” I shake my head, my stomach churning. My mouth feels slimy.
I wonder if I’m going to be sick and instinctively look around for somewhere I can throw up, eyes darting over the mulch of yellow leaves under my feet, the drain stuffed with cigarettes and mud.
“It’s not crazy. He did a spell and someone died.”
“Oh, and that makes someone a killer, does it?” I choke out, glaring at her. “I knew you felt that way about me, I knew you blamed me for her death—”
“This isn’t about Elizabeth!” Kira slaps the file against my hand but I refuse to take it, stepping back. “Read the file.”
“No, it’s a lie—”
“It’s not a lie. It was a really unpredictable ancient spell, something to do with resurrecting the dead.”
My ready protests catch in my throat. Please, I think to no one in particular. Please don’t let this be true.
“Look, I’m really proud of you for standing up to Carl.” Kira’s brown eyes are earnest. “I had no idea he was so awful. I don’t want you to be tangled up with someone else like him.”
“You’re proud of me?” I sneer angrily, my voice raising to a shout. “You think you have the right to say that to me while you compare Bastian to Carl?”
Just the thought is a kick in the chest. Kira gives me a mournful, almost pitying look that honestly makes me want to scream in her face: You don’t know him like I know him!
“Look.” She flips the file open. I immediately look up to the sky, as if afraid the words are going to jump up and assault my eyes. “Please, Lando, you have to know the truth.”
I thought Bastian had told me all the truth he had, the truth about Shasta and his parents, the truth about how he felt about me.
Was it possible that he was still keeping something back?
Hating myself, I look down. The top page is the most recent.
It’s an assessment of Bastian from his last college in London.
The words jump in front of my eyes: “Reckless, unfocused, too intelligent for his own good, arrogant in a way that disregards the safety of others.” There’s a comment that leaps off the page, striking me right in the breastbone, knocking the wind out of me: “Bastian Chevret befriended Cameron Mackay, knowing that she struggled to fit in due to her shapeshifter status. He preyed upon her social vulnerability to manipulate her in the worst way.” I think about the first day I met Bastian, how quickly he learned from Carl Lord that I was a shifter, and then he didn’t leave me alone.
A horrible thought leaps in my mind: Did he single me out because he could manipulate me, too?
“I know he’s had a troubled life,” Kira says softly. “But someone died, Lando. Cameron Mackay died. I couldn’t stand by and let that happen to you.”
“It’s bullshit.” I let the file drop to the ground sloppily, its pages spewing into the wind, but Kira doesn’t even move, she just stares at me.
“It’s right there,” she says. “You read it.”
“You made it up.” I’m breathing heavily, and I really do think I might be sick if I can’t sit down and get control of myself soon. “You’re trying to take something away from me because you think I took Elizabeth away from you.”
“Elizabeth died. It wasn’t your fault. I’ve never said it is—”
“You don’t have to say it!” I yell. “You never spoke to me the whole time Elizabeth and I were together! I could feel your witch prejudice from miles away—”
“I didn’t speak to you because Elizabeth was terrified that somehow her mum would find out about you, so she asked me to keep up appearances at school, to pretend like you weren’t dating, like you and I didn’t know each other.
” Her eyes are shiny but her voice is harsh.
“You assume I’m prejudiced because I’m a witch, but you know nothing about me or my family.
My ancestors emigrated from Morocco in the nineteenth century, we weren’t even here for the witch trials, we have nothing to do with this British prejudice, and you are not the first shapeshifter to live in this city, Orlando! ”
“If all of that’s true, then why are you doing this?” I gesture to the file.
“Because it’s what Elizabeth would want me to do,” Kira says fervently. “Every day I think to myself, I’m alive and she’s not and it’s the worst thing, but what does she want me to do?”
“And you think it’s this?” I yell. “Taking this away from me?”
“Telling you the truth. Keeping you safe.” Kira’s eyes are glistening with tears. “I’m not a liar, Lando. Whatever else you think about me. Do you really think I’d lie to you about this?”
I know the answer has to be no, but that means too many terrible things for me to possibly accept.
“Stay away from us,” I say, turning to leave.
“No, wait!” Her eyes are frantic and she’s reaching into her coat pocket. “There’s something else I have to show you—”
I cannot possibly take any more of her revelations.
“No,” I say, and I run away from her, fast, through Stevenson Square, down toward Piccadilly Gardens, back toward Bastian. To the place where I feel safe.