by Mana Sol
“Let her go.”
The world had shrunk to a pinpoint tunnel in my building excitement, but it widened again in a flash when I heard an unexpected fourth voice come from somewhere behind the fae girl. I couldn’t see who it was, but I recognized the voice anyway - how could I forget it?
“I said, let her go.”
What was he doing here? Zedekiel, haughty Nephilim who wanted nothing to do with me, why had he come to my rescue like some kind of damned inconvenient knight in shining armor? His frosty words made Jaheen stop in his tracks just a single step farther than I needed him to be. No -
“You’re going to make me tell you three times? I’m not that patient.”
“But, why aren’t you letting me…” the girl protested, and I thought I was going to vomit hearing the beginning of a plaintive whine. Seriously? She had been putting on the alpha bravado until just a moment ago, but now it vanished into the wind as if it had never been there. If I’d needed more proof Nephilim stood at the top of every pyramid no matter which ecological niche they occupied, this was it. Revolting. Archangel, Ravonne had called him earlier. What a pretentious, infuriating, self-important -
“Fine,” she said quickly, changing course. He must have done something I couldn’t see to frighten and make her agreeable suddenly. Probably took a step closer or something underwhelming like that, these absolute cowards. Damn it! So close, if Jaheen would just come a little closer… Or maybe I should do it now, what I’d been planning. Catching two out of the three of them wasn’t bad, and it would send a message, albeit not as strong as I wanted.
“Unlucky bitch,” she murmured above me while I was still pondering. “You know who he is, right? Let’s get together later if there’s anything left for me to step on once he’s done with you.”
Didn’t have a choice about it, anyway. She’d find me. I remained slumped over the table even after she let me go and glided away with her two friends, and I was disappointed beyond measure. The one chance I’d had, I’d let it slip past me. I should have just done. I should have just -
“Thought you were here to respect the rules. And learn.”
I pressed my palms harder into the table before sitting back, grimace hidden. “They came to me first,” I said. “You were watching. You know what you saw.”
“Don’t tell me what I see or don’t see.”
“Are you going to tell me I’m wrong?”
He stared. “You were at least pretending to be obedient this morning. Looks like you’ve changed your mind.”
I paused. He had a point. I’d been telling myself until just minutes ago that I could handle whatever hand they dealt me until those three brought up Addy and Genie. But that alone shouldn’t have provoked me so easily. I’d let my emotions get the better of me, the pride I worked so hard to quash before I got here. And I’d warned myself, too, hadn’t I? I needed to be a brand-new Blair, discreet and meek, not the way I was before. This was so hard…
“Not everyone’s going to fall for your peacekeeping act,” he said when I remained silent. “They might have, for now. But not me.”
I turned my gaze to the side, surveying the staring faces sitting at the far tables. The hall wasn’t nearly populated enough to make for much of a crowd, but there were more than when the girls and I had first walked in. Enough to have been able to spread rumors like wildfire if I’d gone through with it…
And then there was Zedekiel. I looked back at him only to find him standing a lot closer than before. He was right next to the table, barely two paces from me. If he wanted to, he could reach out and throttle my neck.
“Here to learn,” he said again, and there was more frigid mockery in his voice this time. “You don’t want trouble, you want to stay in line, out of sight. But if that’s really what you wanted, you wouldn’t need the spells you’re hiding under your hands.”
I said nothing, not even when he closed the distance between us with two slow steps and leaned over me. His shadow felt heavy, alive, and his touch somehow cold and warm at the same time as it peeled the fingers of my left hand off the table. The glowing mark I’d subtly traced earlier dissolved into a flurry of blue sparks, but too late. He saw the last of them disappear as he held my wrist up in the air.
“So?” he asked. “That was the plan? Curse them with a hexing array in front of everyone? You would have paid for that in blood before morning whether you hurt them or not.”
“They came to me first.” I looked up and met his eyes, held steady. He couldn’t scare me. I wouldn’t let him, even if his hand tightened around my wrist and I could feel every part of his touch like the heat of a star wrapping around me. Nephilim aura. Nephilim aura - my right hand was free; I had to make the Dispelling sign or else he would have me crawling on my knees for him in the next few seconds. And yet…? Nothing was happening. I was motionless and so was he, as if we had locked each other in place. I could feel his aura intensify sliver by sliver, faster and faster, trying to pull me from my seat so I could climb into his arms or wherever else he would have me, by God, but I remained perfectly still. Perfectly, completely still.
“It wasn’t an array,” I said. “I wouldn’t need one for them. Just one sigil.”
His expression hardened, and my vision swam. “You’re cocky. Digging your grave deeper and deeper.”
“You could have left me alone and I’d have finished digging it by now, or so you say. Before morning, right?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I knew you were going to be a problem the second I saw you. Not the other two. You.”
“A problem? I started nothing.”
“So you keep saying. But I know. You’ve only been waiting for an excuse to do what you really want to do. Are you going to tell me what your spell would have done to those three once you released it?”
I let go of the breath I’d been holding. His Nephilim aura was alive and well, but somehow I was holding firm even without Dispelling it. How? I didn’t know, but I wasn’t going to question it. “I’ll let them find out on their own whenever they come looking for me again. She said she wasn’t done with me yet, and I believe her. So I’ll be ready.”
“And you’re looking forward to it?”
“Maybe. I don’t have to start something to finish it.”
“But you’re not finishing anything.” His hand tightened even harder around my wrist, but somehow it felt like an iron band around my chest instead. I couldn’t breathe. He was raising something inside me, sharp and hypnotic and thrilling; Dispel it, Dispel it, Dispel it - “Don’t be stupid,” he said. “Keep your head down and don’t fight back, or else you won’t make it to graduation.”
“Thanks for your concern, but I can handle them.”
“Concern?” His mouth twisted into a half-grimace. “I’m not concerned for you.”
“Then?”
“Do anything to them, and it’ll be me you have to worry about.”
I fell silent. Threatening me? That was what this was all about, after all? Of course, it was. The part of me that had hoped for a second otherwise, stupidly, was a product of the mind-scrambling Nephilim aura and nothing more. “Didn’t know you were the shepherding type,” I said. “You protect the fae like they’re your own.”
“More than you are.”
“Understood. Now if you could let go of my hand, that would be generous of you.”
For a second, I thought he wasn’t going to, and I began etching the proper sign that would protect me with my right hand. Small twitches, nearly imperceptible, but he must have seen them somehow: he let go of my wrist, and my hand dropped back down onto the table.
“Watch yourself,” he said. “You don’t want my attention.”
“Thought I already had it.” Damn it. I should take the out he was giving me, not provoking him more. What was it about him that was making me so reckless? “… But I’m glad that’s not the case. Have a good day, Zedekiel.”
He fixed me with a final lingering stare, then turned and left.
10
I already knew what I would find when I inspected my wrist. A faint handprint wrapped around it, gleaming with the most entrancing, shimmering hue of silver. I’d never been so close to a Nephilim before today, and I’d been touched not once but twice. If he were anyone else, if he weren’t so overwhelming, I would have already…
What? What would I have done? Would I have hexed him the way I’d been planning to do to the three fae who had been harassing me? Would I have sent a message in boils and blood even though I knew that would only make me the enemy of every native of Jupiter Gate? All this summer, I’d promised myself I would tuck away my pride and swallow whatever mistreatment I had to endure to make it to the end, but if Zedekiel hadn’t intervened just now, I would have already cartwheeled back on that promise and landed on my ass. All for a fleeting victory that wouldn’t have even mattered past tonight.
I looked up to find there were still a dozen pairs of eyes on me, although most of the dining hall’s attention was now glued to Zedekiel’s back in a dreamy trance as he returned to his table and fellow angel-touched. There were three of them now; a girl had found her seat there while I wasn’t paying attention. I found my eyes lingering on her snow-white hair and elegant profile a little too long with a glare before I forced my gaze away.
Jealousy. I wouldn’t pretend it was anything else. It was reassuring that I could remain dispassionate and removed enough to identify the effects of the Nephilim aura in myself like this, but that someone could affect me this way at all - intensely, compellingly, with barely any effort - made me feel out of control. I hated this, hated being helpless. But then again, I’d somehow resisted the worst of it even without the aid of my magic. Or could it be that when I Dispelled his influence earlier this morning, the effects had lingered until now?
I continued to ignore the staring students and let my thoughts race behind blank eyes. The more boring I was, the less attention they would spare me, and despite what I’d almost done moments ago, remaining inconspicuous and tiny was the smartest pass through these treacherous mountains. Except it was so, so hard to do the smart thing, the inconspicuous thing, harder than I’d ever thought it would be. To eat insult after insult and then have my face pressed into the table in front of an audience, I would never have let it come this far at my old school.
But that was because they had learned to respect me there, and I’d earned every quarter-inch of it. The hardest worker, the most dedicated student, already budding as a promising Thaumaturgist long before any of the other gifted humans had begun to even tune their first spells. That had mattered there regardless of their opinion of me because the hierarchy and the system were fair, and even if the other kids had always muttered about me behind my back about how shallow and pompous I was, they still had to acknowledge I was good enough to walk the walk. And also that I had a vicious streak a mile wide if someone got under my skin.
Not here, though. I scratched my nails against the table’s surface where I’d traced then dissolved the hexing spell in a hurry as if I’d been the guilty party, as if I should have something to hide. Because it didn’t matter how clever or industrious I was in my studies at Jupiter Gate, nor did it matter if I was innocent while someone threatened to smear their food on my face in front of the entire dining hall with no one to step in and stop them. Because what I did was worthless solely by reason of my humanity. Simple. I clenched my fist.
Ironic that the one person who had intervened had only threatened me with worse. He’d stepped in to protect them, the aggressors, the ones who had come to me and picked a fight without invitation. Maybe there had been a little provocation, but only after they’d crossed a line with me first. And yet I was the one Zedekiel threatened.
My teeth ground together so hard I thought they might crack, and I forced my jaw to loosen with a deep breath. Just then, my wrist tingled, and instinct told me to look up. Across the room, I found Zed glaring at me, and even from a distance I could see how blue his eyes were as they stabbed me through. Brilliant. Cold. Captivating.
…Disgusting. It was the residual effects of his aura that made me feel this way, betrayed and hurt as if we truly had an intimate connection that he’d rejected, but in this case I was eager to exploit it. If it made me hate him all the more, good. I was glad for it. It might make me warier and more protected the next time he tried to frighten me. I removed my attention once more with a pointed redirection of my gaze and waited for Addy and Genie to return, or for someone else to start trouble with me, whichever came first. I was in the mood for hexing the hell out of someone anyway, and Zed was a little too far away to tempt me.
“Hey.”
“Welcome back.”
“You okay? Your cheek’s red.”
I dismissed Addy’s question with a wave of my hand before getting out of my seat. “Don’t know,” I lied. “Maybe I’m about to break out. Stress zits.”
“Yeah, well, welcome to the club. I can feel one about to grow on my nose, happens literally every first day of every school year - ew, Genie! What are you doing!”
I was already sliding my chair back in under the table when I glanced over at Genie’s tray. I was not prepared for the travesty I found. Plain white yogurt slathered over a cut of prime rib, swimming in a vat of some yellowy mixture I dared not identify. Not only that, but the girl had an entire stick of butter in her right hand with a bite mark clearly scalloping the end. She stared at us with all the pretty docility of an innocent calf as she slowly chewed… “What’s wrong?” she chirped, and Addy and I both blanched when we saw the sure, stomach-turning evidence that she’d just taken a bite of the butter and nothing else. “Do you want some?”
“Oh, my God. Don’t ever, ever eat like that again in front of us.” Addy reached over to pull the tray away, but Genie pushed it just out of reach where it teetered precariously at the edge of the table. “That is so not school-appropriate, I can’t believe you made us look at that with our own eyes -”
I sat back down again, and they both turned to look at me. I said nothing.
“…You’re not going to get your food?” Addy asked, Genie’s Pure Abomination Recipe forgotten for the moment. “Aren’t you hungry? You want me to get something for you?”
I grabbed her hand before she could rise from her seat. “No,” I blurted. “Stay.”
“But -”
“I’m fine. Just want to sit here for a second.” I let out a slow, deep breath, exhaling all the anger, frustration, and embarrassment I’d been drowning myself in. No problem. I wouldn’t be bitter about how Zed had come tromping over to steal my thunder, how everyone had seen me with my head mashed into the table and now probably thought I was going to take whatever those three fae idiots had been about to dish out with no argument like a slack-jawed cow. They were probably all snickering under their breaths at me.
But that was okay. It wasn’t the end of the world just because someone had kicked my pride around and I’d had my chance at vengeance yanked away from me. I’d get my chance later, and for all the students laughing at me now, I’d make them respect me doubly before this was all over. No, not just me. They’d respect all three of us, give us credit where it was due. Long overdue. I hated this place so much… But I needed it. Needed to be here.
“You okay, Blair?” Addy sneaked a surreptitious glance at Genie, who answered with a very obvious one in kind. Neither of them was good at being sneaky, I’d deduced by now. “You don’t look like yourself.”
“I said I’m fine. Just eat.”
I crossed my arms over the table and watched them with a faint smile.
11
It was nearly five in the morning when I awoke before the alarm, and I sat on the edge of the bed staring down at my lap. I hadn’t activated the magelights around my room and had no window to open - deliberate design, I guessed, with our safety in mind - so I sat in stifling darkness, cold yet sweating.
I hadn’t had a nightmare. Just early morning nerves before the f
irst day of classes began. And after the excitement of yesterday, I couldn’t blame myself for waking up out of breath and wishing I were home. There was a bruise on my cheek the way I’d already guessed there would be, and my lower lip had swelled where my teeth had cut into it as well when the fae girl shoved my face into the table. I fingered it gingerly, knowing it wasn’t worth the effort to get it looked at by whoever manned the academy’s infirmary. It would only go down as more evidence I didn’t belong here.
I dug my fingers into the bed. I’d made a mistake yesterday, and Zed had saved me from making an even bigger one. Ironic. I should be keeping my head down, going with the rhythm instead of trying to disturb it, sacrificing my ego as necessary. I’d warned myself again and again for months and still I’d almost buckled. It hadn’t been about Addy and Genie, not deep down. I knew myself. I’d just been angry to be underestimated, disrespected, and I’d stepped over the line I’d drawn for myself with nothing but an excuse at noble intentions.
So what if they had smeared food over my face and hair and whatever other trivial bullying tactics they had at their disposal? I wasn’t new to them. I could have stood it. Should have. This wasn’t home anymore and taking a few lickings to appease the haughty masses should have been so easy I didn’t think twice about it. And yet now I had the particular attentions of what could be an entire fae clan out for my blood and a Nephilim keeping me in his crosshairs. I slapped my hand over my face and groaned. If I’d done nothing, this would have all been over in a few weeks, if that. They would have all gotten bored with the girl who was too plain and unreactive, and then they would have forgotten about me so I could coast through the rest of the year in peace.
I should start over and stick with the plan, I told myself as I dragged my fingers down my stinging face. Yesterday had been a setback that yanked me ten more meters behind the starting line, but I had two more years here and in the end, a few additional weeks of suffering would mean nothing. I’d been stupid and reckless, so I deserved it anyway. Hadn’t I lectured Addy yesterday when she tried to confront Zedekiel? And what had I gone and done myself the same day?
