by Kat Adams
At least Jess had removed the majority of pink in the room while I was stirring up a shit show with Bryan and his mom. Obnoxious pink curtains—gone. Pink bed sheets and comforter so bright it made your eyes bleed—gone. She even removed all the boy band posters. While I appreciated her making our room a little more tolerable and a little less Pepto Bismol, it wasn’t her style.
Now, as we sat with our backs to each other, the silence so thick you could cut it with a knife as we each got ready to face the day, I debated saying something. First, the makeup. Jess loved her makeup. Her blues and greens and, of course, pinks. She loved her unbearably happy bows and big earrings. And, boy, did that bitch love to bounce like she had springs in her shoes.
Until she met Spencer. His influence seemed to affect everyone differently. For me, he just irritated the crap out of me with his arrogance and haughty, stupidly awesome accent. With the guys, they all wanted to kill him. But Jess? He seemed to be muting her. As much as she annoyed me just as much as Vanessa had annoyed me last year, I wanted her to annoy me on her terms.
I stared at my reflection, at the little flecks of yellow that made my hazel eyes almost gold in certain light, at my auburn hair that’d gotten longer than I liked as it fell past my shoulders now, at my trail of freckles across my nose and cheeks. I hated my peaches-and-cream complexion, hated how pale I was, hated my invisible eyebrows and lashes. None of that was ever going to change, so I applied the makeup Clay apparently didn’t know I wore, as I did every morning.
“Maybe we should put on some music,” I offered when the silence was too much.
“I like the quiet,” she threw back in a monotone and played with her makeup—that she no longer wore.
“Come on, Jess. Just a couple of upbeat songs. They’ll cheer you up. I haven’t seen you smile in days.”
“That’s because every time you’re around, I have no reason to smile.” She then smiled a frigid grin through the reflection of her vanity mirror. “I lost my sister because of you.”
I spun around to face her. If we were going to do this, I wanted it to be head-on. As I took a breath to tell her where to stick her smile, I thought about my job to keep her from going dark. I was pretty positive me telling her off wouldn’t be the catalyst, but I couldn’t know for sure. So instead of igniting my snark spark, I painfully swallowed what I really wanted to say. “I miss the old Jess.”
“So do I,” she said under her breath.
Ouch. Jebus jumping jacks. Her tone, coupled with the sadness in her eyes and weighing down her expression, just about broke me. If she couldn’t find her happy place, I’d have to find it for both of us.
With a bright and energetic burst of oomph, I jumped up and turned on my Bluetooth speaker. Once it connected with my phone, I scrolled through my playlist until I found the happiest song I had in my collection. It took a lot of scrolling. Clearly, I had a type when it came to music and happy wasn’t it.
“What are you doing?” she snapped.
I ignored her and started an old song my mom used to play for me, singing about pockets of sunshine and how sticks and stones ain’t never gonna break me. I danced around the room like it was my job, purposely running into things and shouting a curse in time with the beat. I caught Jess smiling more than once.
A knock at the door caused me to pause the music. It was probably one of the neighboring room residents not appreciating an upbeat, silly song so early in the morning. When I opened the door, I deflated. “Well, that killed the mood.”
“Good morning to you too.” Spencer walked into the room, looking too good to be human in his yellow blazer and blazing blue eyes. Jess spotted him and launched out of the chair, rushing to him and literally jumping into his arms. Her little skirt flew up, revealing a G-string.
Gross. I could never unsee that.
He caught her and set her down before her lips connected with his, even leaning out to avoid the kiss. He completely ignored her, which annoyed me and made it extremely awkward.
Jess lowered her head and nodded, as if accepting the reprimand that never happened. It pissed me off, and it wasn’t even directed at me. I unleashed. “You don’t get to blow her off like that. She’s excited to see you, you ass. The least you can do is acknowledge her. Jeez, dude. What’s the matter with you?”
“I’m British. We don’t hug.”
“I call bullshit.”
His eyebrows shot up. “My apologies. I had no idea you were so focused on my relationship with Jess.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her long, kissed her hard, and kissed her completely. By the time he broke their contact, even I was short of breath. “There. Did I redeem myself?”
“I’ll say.” Jess giggled and twirled a lock of her blonde hair.
I wanted to vomit and left the room before I ruined everyone’s shoes. I needed coffee if I was going up in front of the Council. Surrendering one’s title required caffeine. As expected, Spencer followed me, easily catching up.
“Not much of a morning person, are you?”
“I’m not much of a people person,” I corrected. “One person, specifically.”
He flattened his hand on his chest. “Ouch. Surely that wasn’t directed at me.”
“Guess again.”
“Why the hatred toward me? I’ve been nothing but forthcoming with you.”
I stopped and practically charged him. “Are you serious right now? You teleported me into the middle of a ring of fire. You know I need your help on whatever attacked me the other night, yet you’ve done nothing but gloat about the fact I need your help. On top of everything else, I’m about to give up the prophecy to someone I don’t trust.”
He stumbled back as if I’d just struck him, the hurt evident in his fallen expression. “You don’t trust me?”
“I don’t trust you’ll do the right thing if it comes down to it, no.” I held nothing back. If he wanted the truth, he’d get it whether he liked the answers or not. “You’ll do what’s best for Spencer, not what’s best for our world.”
His expression fell even more, along with his shoulders. He looked like I’d just taken his ice cream and popped his favorite-colored balloon. “Is that truly what you think of me?”
“Truly truly. I wish you’d just come out with why you’re really here, because we both know it’s not to train me.”
“Well, then. I suppose…” He trailed off and glanced at the main hall. I did the same, always impressed at how the castle looked like a cross between Hogwarts with all the turrets and staircases, and Buckingham Palace with it being the size of a city block. The castle-like structure even had gargoyles flanking the entrance. “I…I really don’t know how to respond to that.”
Don’t feel bad about this. Do not feel bad about telling him off. As much as I wanted to steel myself against that destroyed look in his eyes, I couldn’t. Feeling like the sack of donkey dung I’d just proven to be, I pulled in a breath to apologize.
“I guess I’ll just say…” It wasn’t his comment that caused my breath to hitch. It was how his expression changed in an instant, hardening, capturing a frozen smile in its wake. I stilled in shock and even a little fear. “Be careful what you wish for.” He stormed off.
Well, that was terrifying.
I held back, letting him walk ahead, to put distance between us. That was when I smelled it again. That scent. I know that scent. I riveted my shocked gaze to him. Could he be the one who’d attacked us?
I wasn’t going to take any chances. I had to warn the Council that they were about to declare a dark elemental as the prophecy. Well, if it was him. Until I knew for sure, no way would I let him step in as the prophecy. This wasn’t about pride. This wasn’t about fame or glory. This was about my world and protecting it.
“Spencer,” I called out and ran to catch up. If I planned to pull this off, I needed to ease up, maybe even turn off the bitch switch. Although that was my default setting, I’d have to adapt. He didn’t slow, so I had to jog to keep up, which didn
’t please me. I hated running. “Would you slow down?”
“We wouldn’t want you cavorting with the enemy, now would we?” He set his jaw and stared straight ahead. He was either one hell of an actor, or I really did offend him.
I swallowed hard. Here it goes.
“Look, I’m just upset that I have to give up the prophecy.”
“To someone you don’t trust. Let’s not forget that sharp little point.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” I lied. I trusted him about as far as I could throw him without the help of an element. We reached the main hall and paused outside the front entrance.
“Then why don’t you want me to be the prophecy? Don’t you trust I’ll do what’s best for our world?”
Not even a little. “The prophecy is all I know. I wasn’t an elemental an entire day before the Council slapped me with the title. Without it…” I fell silent as the epiphany sank in. I didn’t know what to do if I didn’t have the prophecy driving my every thought, my every action.
“You feel helpless. Perhaps a bit lost?”
I nodded, hating how that was exactly it. Hating even more that he now knew my secret.
“Have no fear, little lamb.” He took my hand and squeezed harder than necessary. My cut, which I’d forgotten about until now, throbbed as a result. “I won’t leave you behind.”
I was no one’s little lamb, thank you very much. I took my hand back and smiled when Spencer opened the door for me. Together, we walked into the office and crossed the room to Dean Carter’s office. The door was closed, so I lifted my fist to knock. He did the same. As much as I didn’t want to give this guy anything, I stepped back and waved for him to do the honors.
He grinned like he’d just won an argument. I held back my eyeroll with great effort. I deserved an award for this role. Or a cookie, at the very least.
“Enter,” a man said from the other side of the door. It wasn’t Dean Carter. Great. The Council beat us here. There went what little homecourt advantage we had.
Spencer opened the door and walked into the room, leaving me standing there. So much for chivalry. I entered after him and made sure to stand at his side in the center of the room, my chin out as I squared my shoulders. If they were about to strip me of my title, I’d take it like an elemental.
I scanned the room, taking in all the men in fancy black suits. Where was Professor Layden? Weren’t women allowed? Or was this more of a good old boys’ club? My attention snagged on Virgil Graves, Vanessa Graves’s father and the reason I’d been stuck with her as a roommate last year. He’d wanted his daughter’s status elevated and had thought rooming her with the prophecy would do the trick. Boy, did that backfire on him. Joke’s on you, buddy.
He stared right back, disapproval settling in his hard expression. He didn’t like me much, and I was fine with that. I hated his daughter and hated him for using me to try to better Vanessa’s position in life. He pulled at the sleeves of his jacket, drawing my attention to the Men in Black attire. I’d always associated those fancy black suits with fear, doubt, and, ultimately, disappointment. Now was no different.
Man after stone-faced man turned to us, no expressions, no emotions of any kind. It was unnerving. The white-haired man that headed up the Council stepped forward, his cool eyes not on me this time, but on Spencer. He still didn’t crack a smile, just as before.
“Spencer Dalton,” Albert Stephens ordered. He didn’t look any different than he did last year when we walked through this same exercise. Hair slicked back with so much product, he’d burst into a blazing inferno if he got too close to an open flame. Perfectly trimmed eyebrows. A tailored suit that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. “Do you know why you’re here?”
“I do.” He held his head high as if he was about to be crowned.
“When is your next birthday?”
That question seemed to throw him off. He looked at Stephens in confusion. “M-my birthday?”
Stephens waited.
“December twenty-first.”
“Twelve twenty-one,” he breathed as his expression fell, the news delivering a crushing blow. “Are you sure?”
“Of my birthday?” The confusion deepened the lines on his face. “Quite sure.”
Stephens suddenly jumped his attention to me as he recovered. “Ms. Reed, remind the Council of your birthday.”
“March fifteenth.” I exchanged looks with Spencer, who rounded his eyes as if I just revealed some huge secret.
Just as before, the date of my birthday excited the rest of the men. They all nodded to each other and murmured before falling back into their motionless stances, just as they had the first time I’d answered that question.
“Why are our birthdays so important?” Spencer eyed me as if he already knew the answer.
“Ms. Reed, please recite the prophecy.”
I so didn’t want to recite the prophecy, but did anyway to get this over with. “Come the Ides of March, the elemental world as we know it will be no longer. Good and evil will be matched. Supremacy is certain.”
“You left out the last line,” Spencer stated and locked his focus on me. “Only one stands in the way.”
The way he looked at me, like I was the one standing in his way, raised the hairs on my neck as uncertainty pricked my skin. I didn’t trust that look. I didn’t trust the guy delivering that look. I refused to pull my gaze away as I said, “I guess it’s a good thing you’re here to remind me.”
“Indeed.”
We continued to hold each other’s hard glares, and not in a good way. When it came to staring contests, I sucked and was usually the first to give in. Not this time. I wouldn’t back down and let this guy think he had a shot at destroying the world I protected with my life.
“Dean Carter, please have Stacey Layden join us.” Stephens’s request shocked me into losing the staring contest as I whipped my attention to him.
“Why wasn’t she here in the first place?” I asked before I could engage the filter between my brain and my mouth. When no one answered, I went on. “She’s a member of the Council, isn’t she?”
“Faculty aren’t required.”
“She’s my faculty advisor.”
“As I’ve already stated—”
“And a member of the Council,” I repeated, cutting him off. If this was some sort of stance against women in a position of power, he and I were about to disagree quite physically when I beat the crap out of the old guy. “Right?”
“Yes,” he hissed, clearly not pleased with that fact. It was the verbal equivalent of stepping in chewing gum on a hot summer’s day.
“Then I’ll wait.” I folded my arms in front of me and, for once in my life, fell silent. It was uncomfortable, more for the men in black than for me. Good.
“You called for me.” Stacey Layden walked into the room in her uniform of black professor robes, her hair in a perfect bun, her stoic expression not giving away any emotion. She flicked her wrist and slammed the door behind her. I would have done the same thing and loved her for doing it. She faced Stephens and broke the resting bitch face as she smiled warmly. Oh, but the door slam told an entirely different story.
“Ms. Layden.” Stephens nodded at her and strained under an unfriendly smile. He adjusted his tie, fidgeting like crazy. Something about her presence had him nervous. Or maybe it was the fact there were now two very powerful females in the room, both due to our calls and our dispositions. “You know the students of Clearwater better than anyone. You know their primary before they do.”
I bit the inside of my lip to stop myself from saying anything and lowered my head to hide the doubt in my expression.
“Please place your hands on Mr. Dalton.”
Spencer stepped out of her reach. “That’s quite unnecessary.”
Interesting. He didn’t want to be touched by someone who’d feel whatever darkness lived inside him.
“That proves my point,” Stephens fired back before regarding me. “Ms.
Reed, the Council heard about the attack. Thankfully, you weren’t hurt. You mustn’t go outside the grounds again without an escort.”
“Excuse me?” What the…what? I needed an escort about as much as I needed permission to leave the grounds. Besides, I did have an escort. Clay and I didn’t stand a chance. How did you fight a fog?
“The prophecy is once again invoked. We can’t have the most important being in our world exposed and unprotected.”
“By the prophecy, you mean what, exactly?” I already knew the answer. I just wanted him to say it in front of Spencer and give me another reason to gloat. It didn’t make me a good person, but damn, did it feel good.
“Katy Reed, the Council hereby decrees you remain the prophecy.” He didn’t even look at Spencer as he delivered the blow.
Spencer, however, nailed the head of the Council with an icy glare. “You can’t do that.”
“You can’t do that!” Stace protested at the same time. “The Council didn’t decree it. You did. That’s not how it works.”
Stephens gave her a look before turning it on me. “Do you accept?”
“I totally do.” Hell, yeah. I couldn’t wait to tell the guys. I didn’t lose my title after all.
He gave Stace a superior told-you-so look. “It appears I can.”
She swept her glance to the other men in the room. When most of them avoided her gaze, she curled her lip in disgust. “Not one of you is willing to stand up to this? Stephens is creating a dictatorship.”
“Mind your tongue, Ms. Layden. Council members are forbidden to speak out against the governing body.”
She took a breath—no doubt to tell Stephens where to stick his arrogant, assholey comment—but I jumped in. I needed her to remain on the Council and fill me in on the status of the patrols to round up the dark elemental clans. “She’s just upset.”
“You’re damn right I’m upset.” Her temper took over as her cheeks grew red. “Katy has a target on her back again, thanks to this Council.” She faced off against Stephens, appearing so much larger than her petite frame. “Do you hate the Reeds so much that you’d punish an innocent girl for the sins of her mother?”
