I’d never known what a strange thing it was, to encounter the men you’d been intimate with. What did it mean that he knew my body?
Did it mean he owned something of me? Did it mean that we were supposed to matter to each other?
God, he mattered to me. I wanted to refute it, to shove it to the side, but there was a burning feeling in my stomach, a churning lust.
I stepped closer and placed the book of vampire lineage across the thick table.
“Some light reading?” Quintin asked. His voice was deep and brooding.
“Something like that,” I returned.
“Is that why you’re back for break? Want to keep up with your studies?”
“I should ask you the same question,” I spat back. My heart raced, propelled with a strange mix of anger and fear.
Quintin rose from the nook and stepped toward me, closer and closer. His eyes were hungry, dark, and when he stood before me, he smelled of ash and fire and power. This man, he was a creature, a dragon. He could have snapped my body in two.
“Seems like we’re at a standstill then. Keeping our mouths shut.” He reached up and splayed his fingers just a half-inch away from my lips, careful not to touch them.
My eyes fluttered closed with want. A scream of desire stirred up in the back of my skull. Suddenly, that scream seemed to bellow out—through my eyes, through my ears, becoming a kind of hollow echo over the upper-level of the library. The energy burst from me and fell through Quintin, then bolted against the side of the wall to make the windows shake. Luckily, a gust of wind flew against the side of the library at that moment. The librarian didn’t suspect us.
Quintin had felt it, just as Celeste and Aunt Maria had felt this voracious power coming from me, affecting them. But he didn’t seem afraid. He stepped a bit closer, and his voice became grittier, softer.
“We did go home. Each of us. We returned to our parents and our siblings and our cozy little lives,” he began. “But we felt it at once. Around midnight, maybe a little bit later. Ezra called me and said he knew we had to return to school. I told him I’d felt the same. We called up Raphael, and he was a fucking mental case. Said he’d already packed his bags. Ezra drove us back. Guess we arrived just after five or six in the morning. It was like we had to be here. Like something was about to happen. And low and behold here you are. You must have felt it, too.”
I arched my brow. I hadn’t breathed during his dialogue. Whatever they’d all felt together, it had happened exactly when the bounty hunter had attacked me outside Aunt Maria’s house.
I’d come into my powers there in the shack at the side of the Gulf, with the boys before me.
Had I linked us together somehow?
Were they an inextricable part of my story?
Had I endangered them forever?
I bit my lip, blood pumping past my ears. His eyes glittered and I felt it, this endless desire, this knowledge that even just at this moment, he owned me, that he could do whatever he wanted to me. And I needed it—the touch of this boy, the feeling that my body was something more than just a vessel to carry out the horrific nature of what had already been foreseen.
Quintin kissed me then. It was fast and almost violent, his soft lips pressing hard and his tongue yanking my lips apart and his massive hands gripping my arms. He pressed me hard against the table, and for a split second—just a moment—I pressed my breasts against his broad chest and I closed my eyes and I fell into the enormous well of feeling of lust. His teeth cut on my lower lip and I cried out and suddenly, my fingers across the skin that poked out from his t-shirt sleeves, the images came: fast and wild.
Why hadn’t I worn my gloves?
Uncertainty. Fear. An image of me, just after I’d come into my powers—that burning symbol across my stomach. “Who the fuck is this girl? What the fuck is happening?” his psyche screamed it. But he wanted me—his hunger for me was something he couldn’t understand, couldn’t fathom. And here he wanted more of me, wanted to strip me bare and take me there in the library—thrust his enormous cock inside me and make me cry his name, echo it out across the big cathedral-like ceiling.
But his fear. It frightened me so much more. I yanked myself away, my eyes enormous. I’d seen too much.
And I could even see the fear reflected in his eyes as he looked at me. He wanted to reach out to me, to grab me again—but I think he knew he’d opened himself up to something that I’d been inside.
Suddenly, I fled. I swept down the staircase, rushed past the librarian—who still didn’t look up, and ran back into the rain. By the time I reached my room, the only thoughts I had, bouncing around in my brain, were:
I don’t belong anywhere.
The boys think I’m insane.
They’re frightened of me.
And I can’t stay at Aunt Maria’s.
She doesn’t want me, either.
There’s nowhere for me to go. Nothing for me to do.
I am in exile.
Chapter Four
I kept a low profile until Monday when the other students arrived back. We had three weeks till Christmas break—although it seemed increasingly clear that I would be stuck on campus for that, as well. I still hadn’t heard from Aunt Maria, and, after what had happened with Quintin in the library, I felt outside of my body, unable to articulate my emotions to Celeste, which was really unsettling for me. When she asked me what was wrong, sitting on my bed with a Twizzler in her hand, I shrugged her off. I had no way to tell her that; I feel like an outcast in my own life. I don’t recognize myself anymore. I don’t know how to go forward when I can’t look backward. There’s nothing left for me.
Especially because I knew what she would say, she’d say, “You have me, Ivy. You’ve always had me.” And I would feel guilty because I would want it to be true so damn bad.
I heard Margot before I saw her. I was at the doorway of my bedroom, my long hair brushed out, wearing a pretty, long-sleeved dark purple dress. Margot, who’d journeyed all the way back to Paris for break. This was not a big feat since she was a witch. Celeste had told me disappearing and reappearing somewhere else was something you could get some kind of permit for in the witching world. Because Margot’s family was so powerful, I was pretty sure they could come and go, whip around the world; however, they pleased. God, I was still so green. Growing up in the human world meant I wanted to ask question after question. I had to soak it all in, like a sponge.
“Oui, but of course, we do not celebrate this American holiday. Our cuisine is far better—an entire weekend of croissants and baguettes and tarts. You must understand, I do love America; there is something grand about it, isn't there? But Paris is home. It simply does everything just a little bit better..."
I rolled my eyes inwardly. The last I’d seen of Margot, she tried to apologize. I’d revealed myself to be—what I was, and she’d understood: she’d fucked herself over. But I didn’t feel ready to accept that apology. Margot was a rich bitch from Paris, a girl who’d belittled and bullied me before my powers had come into themselves. Why in the fuck should I accept anything from her? I was hardly willing to talk to my best friend.
When I entered the foyer, I saw them all together: Margot holding court with her bratty best friends, Zelda, the vampire and Riley the fae. Margot faltered a tiny bit, her eyes flashing toward me. She kept her smile up, but I could smell its fakeness. She held my eyes for a moment, then forced herself forward, between her best friends, and opened her arms.
“Beautiful, Ivy! Look at you.” She leaned forward slightly, her mouth curved into an evil smile. “Some of these Americans, they ate too much stuffing over the weekend. You can see it in their cheeks. But not you, Ivy—you’re always like a painting.”
I couldn’t. Couldn’t take this bitch, cozying up to me, trying to pretend that everything was all right. My smile fell completely and I said, “Can you step aside? I have to get to class.”
Immediately, Margot’s face fell, and her cheeks grew hollow. She s
lid her arms over her chest and crossed them and said, “I’m sorry. I thought we had some kind of understanding.”
“Did you? Because I never made that agreement,” I said, then shot past her, through the living area and into the stairwell.
As I slammed the door behind me, I heard Margot whisper to her friends, “What zee hell? She thinks she’s better than us, huh? Well, fuck her.”
When I reached Professor Binion’s office, there was a note on the door explaining that he hadn’t yet arrived back from the holidays and that he’d be back tomorrow. I crumpled up the note and crammed it in my pocket. I hadn’t been mentally prepared to do class that day, anyway.
Throughout the morning and into the afternoon, I heard whispers around me wherever I went. When I entered the cafeteria, someone muttered, “I heard she pitted herself against Margot again. Is she stupid or...?”
I put a few things on my tray: a piece of bread, a slice of cheese, an apple. My stomach churned and I didn’t feel hungry at all. When I turned back toward the large hall, I spotted several heads duck back down, as though many of them had been watching me, wondering about me. Quintin, Raphael, and Ezra sat toward the back, and their eyes burned toward mine. They weren’t afraid to show themselves to me. Why should they ever be afraid of anyone?
I quickly swallowed my lunch at the furthest table. Celeste texted me to say that she was busy studying with Peter somewhere (which probably meant something very different). Although I’d hardly been able to look her in the eye, I still felt empty without her there beside me. I hustled out of the cafeteria as quickly as I could and then went through my class schedule, almost like a dazed person. Everywhere I went, I heard whispers that Margot was out to get me. Whatever she threw at me, I knew I would attack just as roughly. She had no fucking clue who she was messing with. This wasn’t just bullying anymore. I was a fucking oracle. I’d lost all I’d ever had in my entire life. I had nothing to lose now. I would destroy her.
THE SMELL QUIVERED into my nose the next morning, waking me just after seven in the morning. It was rotten, reeking, and it filled the air completely, as though my entire bed had been slotted into a dumpster. I shot up and then stood in the center of my bedroom, my hands on my hips. The smell was so outrageously terrible that I could hardly articulate any true thoughts.
What. The. Fuck.
Slowly, as I realized where I was, what might have happened, I fell to my knees and then ducked down, so that my ear was on the rug and I could peer under the darkness beneath the bed. The smell grew worse, thicker—the stuff of death and mold.
Whatever it was, it was under the bed, all right.
There was a long tray there beneath the mattress, and on top was a carcass.
A turkey carcass. The bones of it cut up toward the bottom of the mattress, and there was still meat stuck to it, disgusting and growing dry. I shuddered at it and shot back across my bedroom, not wanting to touch it. I gasped and placed my hands over my face and shuddered, so angry, so fucking pissed.
Of course, I knew who’d done this.
I glanced at my phone. Apparently, I’d slept in a little bit, and more than likely, many of the girls would be down in the dining hall for breakfast already.
I made sure not to breathe out of my nose. I dressed quickly, donned a dress and put on bright red lipstick. For a final touch, I placed red gloves over my hands, then brought them around the sides of the tray, then yanked the tray out toward the rug. The moment I had it out from under the bed, the smell whooshed over me like a wave and I almost fell back again.
Fuck. This.
I didn’t wait to calm down. I couldn’t think rationally. I grabbed the turkey carcass tray and then smashed through the door and barreled toward the dining hall. By the time I reached the stone building, my eyes felt bloodshot and my heart pumped in my throat with rage.
I burst in through the double doors. The cafeteria was filled with other teenagers, all of them hunkered over their pancakes or sausages or eggs or whatever. The second I walked in, though, all eyes were directed toward me.
Margot was seated off to the right, at her normal table with Zelda and Riley. The moment she saw what I carried in my hand, her eyes grew enormous and fearful. I knew she hadn’t expected to have this beast back in her life. But here I was: at her service.
I rushed toward the table, then smashed the enormous carcass between their plates, which made all of them smash to the ground. All three girls screamed and tore up from the table, panicked.
“What the fuck, Ivy!” Zelda cried.
Margot stood a few feet away from the carcass. She folded her thin arms over her chest and glowered at me. A bit of dead turkey carcass had flown off from impact and stitched itself across her cheek. I couldn’t contain it: a huge smile spread across my face.
“I found this. I guess you must have misplaced it,” I said, arching my brow.
Margot’s lips opened in shock. The other students at the table popped their faces toward us.
“What’s the matter?” I asked. “I only thought I’d give you back what belongs to you.”
“You bitch,” Margot muttered. Then, she added a few demonizing words in French.
“What did you even have to do to get that thing under my bed, huh? Go through the dumpsters out behind the dining hall? I can’t imagine how much time it must have taken. God, Margot, you really should learn to get a life, you know? There are better things to do with your time than put dead birds under my bed.”
“Get the fuck away from my table right now,” Margot snarled.
“Or what?” I demanded.
“You don’t know what I could do to you.” Margot spewed.
“Yeah?”
Suddenly, I felt it again. A wild energy, stirring from the back area of my mind. The energy shot out through me, then slammed against the turkey so that it barreled up from the table and hit Margot’s stomach. She fell back and then blinked down at the enormous, moldy and greasy stain that now sat across her shirt.
I felt a hand on my back and whirled around, wild-eyed, to see Celeste. She grabbed my sleeve and tugged me out of the dining hall, as people behind me cried out my name and laughed raucously at Margot.
“YOU BITCH!” she called after me, her voice echoing through the big dining hall. “YOU’RE GOING TO REGRET THAT FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.”
Celeste dragged me all the way back to the dorm. I couldn’t speak, I was so fucking pissed. When we reached the living area, she dropped my hand and blinked huge eyes at me and demanded, “What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On. With. You.”
I sputtered. “Margot put a fucking dead turkey under my bed.”
“Yeah? Well, you can’t just go into the cafeteria and throw a dead bird at her. Hers is fucking stupid, yeah, but yours is almost violent,” Celeste said. She crossed her arms and waited for my response.
I shook my head. Every single cell in my body seemed to scream.
“Just tell me. Why are you trying to piss everyone off right now?” Celeste demanded. Her words seemed edged with another question—why had I pissed her off? We were supposed to be best friends.
Hell, we were best friends.
“I don’t know,” I returned, my voice low. “I just feel stronger than I used to. I guess I just don’t know how to handle it.”
Celeste decided this was enough and made some mention about heading off to class. I watched her go, feeling more alone than ever as the door kicked closed behind her.
Chapter Five
I was ten minutes late to my first class with Professor Binion. I barreled in through the door, my nostrils flared. I could practically feel my eyes sputtering with electricity. He arched his fuzzy brow at me as he leaned against the chalkboard. He looked tired, the skin beneath his eyes droopy, and after I slammed the door, he spoke with a craggy voice.
“Ivy. Good morning. Has something happened?”
He studied me, his mouth in a flat line. I smacked a pile of books on his desk, my head still rushing with what
had happened with Margot in the dining hall. “Oh, you know. Just the usual life of a one-of-a-kind oracle,” I spat, resentful. I fell into the chair behind me and kicked out my legs. My head rushed, the way it had back in the dining hall, and the old painting of some dead warlock shook to the side and hung crooked.
Professor Binion glanced at the painting, then turned his attention back toward me. “I see,” he said.
“Do you?” I demanded. “Can you possibly ‘see’ what it’s like for me? One minute, I was a classic American sixteen-year-old girl. Now, I’m the only oracle on the planet; bounty hunters are after my aunt and me—oh, right, my parents were fucking murdered—and beyond that, the French bully at this stupid school has it out for me.”
This time, the energy that flung out from my head rattled the painting so hard that it crashed to the ground and cast little shards of glass to the corners of the room. Professor Binion swept his hand through the air, an act that collected all the glass shards back together again. They pieced themselves over the painting, glued themselves back together again. The painting then tilted itself against the wall, down on the ground.
“Better not hang it back up again. Just in case,” Professor Binion said. He gave me a strange smile, one that was oddly comforting, despite how hollow I felt. “It’s clear that your powers have really grown over the past few weeks. I could feel the energy coming off of you when you were still in the stairwell. The air sizzled when you came in. It must be overwhelming.”
“That’s putting it lightly,” I said.
There was a strained silence. I shifted in the chair, wishing he’d call off class for the day. I couldn’t stand it, sitting in that room, my thoughts buzzing so fast I thought my head my spin-off.
“Let’s try out a few of the last things we did before break,” Professor Binion said. “You remember what we talked about.” He splayed a large map of the world over the chalkboard, then stretched a yardstick out to click on the country of France.
The Oracle's Locket Page 3
