Chapter 14 #2
A sudden spurt of flame provokes a hollered “Fuck!” from the guy charging alongside Byron as part of his shield—just for an instant before Byron snuffs it out with a twitch of his head. He doesn’t even need to glance over.
Each breath I take now carries the flavors of soil and smoke. Not exactly a delicious combination, but at least the skirmish is entertaining.
Sadly, it tells me shit-all about Grady and any association my double might have had with him. The guy appears to hold his own on the bloom side, but nothing about his technique stands out.
The game winds down with three goals scored for blight—the first one Byron’s—and two for bloom. The field looks like it’s been bombed. Once the ref calls the game, the players still able to walk limp around magicking the grass back into place and the soil smooth.
The exciting part is over. I get up and amble along the hill, keeping an eye on Grady at the edge of my vision.
What I really want is to be in place when he passes by on the way into the school. Will he react to my presence in any particular way? Since he’s a year above me, our paths haven’t really crossed so far this week.
I reach the patio tables just as one of the players hollers, “All good!” Not quite perfect timing.
Oops! There goes the strap of my satchel slipping off my shoulder.
My bag hits the ground with a spill of books and pens across the patio stones. I crouch down and wave off my friends. “It’ll just take a few seconds. Get to class and save me a good seat.”
If Grady does react, I’m not sure I want them seeing it.
As I paw my belongings back into the satchel, not quite as urgently as I could, the players come sauntering by.
Grady wipes the sweat from the back of his neck and grabs his discarded blazer.
His knuckles are seeping blood and there’s a blotch on his jaw that looks to be bruising, but he’s walking steadily enough.
I glance over at him just as his gaze skims over me. His expression doesn’t show the slightest shift of emotion.
As far as I can tell, whatever Elodie saw in him, he hasn’t thought about her at all.
When I straighten up, he’s just brushing past the tables with a few of the other guys. “We could get some practice in after classes,” one of them is saying eagerly.
Grady dismisses the idea with a flick of his hand. “I’ve got somewhere to be. Maybe tomorrow.”
Huh. I think I’m going to have to find out where he’s got to be this afternoon.
I sling my satchel over my shoulder and head inside several paces behind him. My first class of the afternoon is a non-magical one: Global Economics. In other words, rich people talking about how rich people get richer.
Kill me now.
As I swing right toward the nearest stairwell, the sight of Asher coming around the corner farther down jars me to a halt. If I head that way, we’ll end up walking up together.
My heart skips a beat with a jolt of that annoying tug.
No, not a good plan. I’ll take the long way around.
Trouble is, I only get two steps in the opposite direction when a bulky blond figure barges into my path.
Phillip Lowell looms over me, grinning beneath a fringe of hair that’s sweat damp from the bloomblight game. He steps close enough that my heel hits the wall as I retreat. “Came to watch me play, huh, Elle? I knew you couldn’t stay away too long.”
Shit on a shikome. My pulse kicks up a notch with a flash of panic I will not to show on my face.
I reach for the same blank tactic that worked with my friends. “We just happened to be outside. I didn’t even notice you were playing.”
I try to push past him, but he sets his hand against the wall with his bulging arm blocking my way. A waft of acrid cologne clogs my throat. “Oh, come on. I think we’re past the point of playing hard to get.”
What the hell did Other Elodie do with this guy that he feels confident enough to talk to her like this? To get so close?
They must have messed around at least a little. Unfortunately for Phillip, even though I know there’s no risk of matching, I’d rather waltz with a wendigo than feel his hands on me.
I dial stuck-up bitch mode to max. “There’s nothing to get, other than out of my face. I never liked you all that much to begin with. Move on—it’s getting sad.”
I was hoping to embarrass him into retreating. Instead, Phillip’s face flushes red and he leans even closer.
His lips draw back from his teeth in a silent snarl. “You owe me another chance.”
Would a solid punch to the nose make this situation better or worse? I’m highly tempted to find out.
I make my voice even icier. “I don’t owe you shit. Let me get to class.”
I move to scoot away from him in the other direction, but he grabs my arm, hard enough that his grip sends an ache through my elbow. “No. No fucking way. I know you— You don’t really— You might be a Devine, but that doesn’t mean you get to throw people aside whenever you want.”
“Everyone gets to throw people aside whenever they want,” I retort, and wrench away from him.
Phillip’s grasp slips, and he snatches after me again. “Don’t be such a fucking—”
His hand closes around my wrist at the same moment as I twist to dodge him, clenching a fist. The bones grind together so hard a whimper slips from my mouth.
The anger in Phillip’s eyes flickers with a hint of fear. I think he might have let me go on his own, except the next instant he is getting punched in the nose… only not by me.
Because Asher gets there first.
“Let go of her, you prick,” he snaps, giving the other guy a shove for good measure.
Phillip teeters back a step, clutching his face and staring at the lower classman he’s probably never given the time of day to before like a pet chihuahua just went feral. But Asher is already tuning him out and turning toward me instead, his brow knit with concern.
His hand rises toward my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
The adrenaline of the moment spikes into pure terror with a flood of memory.
“Why would anyone— There’s so much blood, Lo. So much. I can’t—”
Ephemera quivers against my searing wounds, but the pain keeps throbbing on. My vision has hazed, as foggy as the damp evening.
There’s a rustle and a soft thump as Asher tosses down his gloves. “Maybe if I— Fuck, this has to work.”
One hand brushes over the gouged clothing on my back with a prickle of condensed energy. Does he even realize when his thumb grazes a shred of my slashed flesh through the fabric?
A sudden blaze of light and warmth surges through me. It washes away the agony. Everything broken melds back together with a heady, tingling rush that floods from my scalp to the soles of my feet. It’s the most wonderful sensation I’ve ever felt—
Until Asher’s scream splits the air.
Past and present realities collide. My body jerks away from Asher’s reach with an echoing scream of my nerves.
“Don’t touch me!” I blurt out. “Stay away from me.”
I spin on my heel and stride off toward the closer stairwell, clutching the strap of my satchel for dear life through the whirling of my head.