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I tucked the knife in my backpack and rode my board through Song to the lift closest to Gray College. The crowd of people pushed me back into Song as I got closer, like the world was trying to prevent me from stabbing Percy in the heart like he’d done me from the back.
I rode faster and faster as the sky grew lighter, and my heart pounded. I probably shouldn’t be running all over after my shaky recovery from the shifting to stone thing, but I had to kill him before I got the chance to think about it.
I climbed the wall to his window and crept inside, noticing the mess, the books and laundry scattered around like someone had ransacked his room. I was the only one allowed to do that. Percy was sprawled on his bed, one hand outstretched, like he was looking for another warm body that should be beside him, the other hand over his forehead. He was beautiful in the early dawn, skin glittering with streaks of some kind of shiny stone, hair melting into silken strands as I watched, bare chest the perfect target for the dagger in my hand.
I jumped on him, landing on his bed with the blade against his chest, supporting myself on the bed in that perfect moment of his vulnerability.
He opened his eyes and sat up, completely ignoring the dagger as he cupped my face and peered into my eyes. “You’re okay! Thank all that is holy! You’re alive!”
And I couldn’t do it.
Along with the knowledge that I’d never be able to kill him came the realization that this had mostly been an excuse my old obsessive brain had created so that I could be like this, with him, using my own anger to betray me. I wanted to be with him when he woke up, to watch him shift with the morning light, to reach out my hand and find him there lying next to me. I wanted the worst possible thing, and I couldn’t kill him.
I ran, leaving him when I wanted to sink into his strong arms and never let go.
I went back to bed for a few hours and woke up well enough to get dressed according to my dad’s specs, the death knife beneath a pile of laundry. Maybe I couldn’t kill him. Fine, not maybe. I really couldn’t kill him, but I could definitely torture him the way he’d tortured me for years. He was going down once and for all.
I had a jar of bugs I was going to give him, but I’d enchant them extra special this time because he deserved extra special. I hadn’t realized what I’d been doing last time, but this time, I did, and I was determined to make the most of my burgeoning skills. The trouble was how few books on the dark arts I could find. The library was still closed from the demon episode. Although the construction work was done, the books had to be recategorized. I had to use a lame spell from the internet, but whatever. When I went in the living room, ready for school with my jar of bugs, I went over to the Grand Sorcerer, because what could it hurt?
“Hey, Mom, say you wanted to bring some dead bugs to life so they would torment a vicious bully. How would you do it?”
“How long have they been dead?” she asked, carefully measuring flour into a bowl.
“Various times, from two months to a week ago.”
“How did they die?”
“I don’t know. I’ve just been collecting dead bugs.”
“That’s too bad. Natural death is the least impactful energy release. You’d definitely need to imbue some energy into them. Maybe his victims could shed some tears or blood on them.”
“Blood and tears?”
“Urine works, but I dislike the smell with bugs, don’t you?” She gave me a distracted smile and then shook her head. “You made me lose count. How many cups was that?”
“Three. Thanks mom, you’re the best. How much blood?”
“A drop is fine. You have to be careful with blood, because sometimes it’s magical in its own right, and that can alter the spell.”
“Makes sense. See you later, mom. Oh, what day is it?”
She looked up at me, mystified? “Day? You’d better check your phone for that kind of thing.”
“Of course.” I kissed her cheek and headed out, climbing into the car with Miss Tertrue and feeling like I had a purpose. It was Friday, the last day of the week, so I’d missed way too many classes, but tomorrow I’d train with Percy and get the chance to punch his face, and today there would be bugs.
After my classes, I wasn’t in a crying mood, but I could certainly prick my skin and get a drop of blood. It wasn’t as easy as I’d thought, because my skin kept hardening when I got ready to poke it, like the gargoyle inside didn’t want to enchant bugs to eat Percy’s face off. Naw, she just didn’t want to be vulnerable ever again.
I took a breath and looked down the alley, then jabbed myself without looking. There was a drop of blood, and it welled out onto the bugs. I shook them up while I chanted the words, closing my eyes before I ducked into the large metal door to the backstage area of the Osprey. He was singing, something low and melodic, about the pain of love that can never be, and the torment to suffer a love concealed. Whatever. I went to the back corner, keeping to the shadows, but I could have walked boldly because the backstage manager was watching Percy sing as breathlessly as everyone else, so he didn’t notice me climbing the ladder that went up to the lights. I didn’t need to do it like this, so elaborately, but it would be better this way, more dramatic. I was in a dramatic mood.
I dumped the bugs on the light scaffolding and then climbed back down, making my way out into the audience, all chill. I got to the back and watched him, but not like everyone else. With every word he sang, my anger grew until I was seething on the edge of violence. No one touched me. They gave me a good two feet until Percy looked up and saw me, and then I smiled as sweetly as I could.
The hope in his eyes was a lie, but if it wasn’t, if he’d actually felt all those words towards me, it would have been even better. I whispered the spell and then bugs rained down on him, a swarming swirl of biting death that would go on for hours until he killed them. He would certainly get bit, but he had asked for my special enchanted beetles.
I blew him a kiss and then turned and stalked out, while people shrieked and knocked into each other, not sure what kind of attack it was. He should understand perfectly. For the next two years, I was going to be the one torturing him, and then, maybe, I’d consider a truce.
After that, I went to the Cat’s Pause, ready for my sushi shift like everything was normal.
“You aren’t supposed to be here tonight, but I’m so glad you came. Ma’am Granite is already roaring with light juice, and mom’s trying to deal with her, so you can take my tables while I hold down the bar in her place, okay?” Rynne threw me a black apron and grabbed a tray. “After this shift, we are having a sleepover. You can do my brows, since yours look so good.” She whirled out with a tray of drinks, her dark hair and splash of purple a happy departure from the overly groomed students I’d almost gotten used to.
