An indescribable sensation pulses through me. Good andbad, all at once. I’m tempted to smile, to laugh at the absurdity of his confusion. He doesn’t know me. Not like he should. He’s staring at me like a complete stranger, and it’s almost funny, the look of bewilderment on his face. As if I am no more than a scary story, a classmate he once had but never really knew. A classmate who once tortured his best friend until his heart gave out.
Maybe, if I wasn’t completely gutted by his disgust, by the vile horror in his expression, I would smile. Instead, I force myself to swallow. I keep my posture straight, my expression neutral.
“Keep your eyes on the vampires behind me,” I remind him. I think I’ll hear them move, but it’s better to be cautious. More importantly, it’ll keep those hazel eyes off me.
Elliot doesn’t immediately respond. His palms are open at his sides, but they’re not raised defensively. Despite his impressive lineage, he was never much of a fighter. It went against his every instinct, and by the looks of it, itstilldoes. He could have fought those goons off himself. Heshouldhave, but I don’t voice that opinion.
After a strained moment, Elliot’s eyes flicker away, shifting between the two goons behind me.
“They’re unconscious.”
His voice is so much deeper now, like warm velvet. It makes me want to close my eyes and drift to sleep.
Safe, I realize. Elliot’s voice makes me feelsafe,even now.
“What are you doing here, Elliot?” I ask. I force the words out, make them as sharp and cruel as they need to be. “You should know better.”
“You remember me?” he asks. His dark brows jump toward his hairline, and I internally cringe at my mistake. In his mind, we were barely acquaintances. We went to the same school. We had the same friend in Margot. But for him, that’s where it ends.
If I were to pluck out a few more memories, if I were to screw them tight in my collection of jars, that’s where it would end for me too.
I couldn’t though, and this isexactlywhy. I needed some sense of assurance that, if Elliot and I ever crossed paths, I would know he’smineto protect.
“Answer the question,” I say, rather than answering his.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Elliot looks down at his clothing then, and I can’t help but do the same. He’s wearing a burnt orange buttoned shirt. Dark grey pants. A pair of shoes that must be brown but are dark enough to appear black. I can almost see myself in them. They're so shiny. It’s all so…fancy.
I shouldn’t be surprised. Elliot’s always been wealthy, and at some point, he had to outgrow his rebellious teenage phase. Back then, he wore grass-stained pants and shirts with holes in them, just to irritate his mama. Now that he’s running his own healing center, I suppose he has to dress nice.
I scan over him again. No blood that I can see. No bruises, even. Whatever the goons were planning to do with him, they clearly hadn’t yet.
“Are you hurt?” I ask. Then, realizing I shouldn’t have, I say, “Don’t answer that. Just…tell me why you’re here, Elliot. Because if your mama sent you?—”
“She didn’t,” he says. The words come out in a rush, so there’s a good chance he’s lying. “She doesn’t know I’m here. Don’t go turning this into an act of war when it isn’t one.”
His brows are furrowed, lips twitching downward. He’s trying to look fearsome, I think. It makes me want to smile, but I restrain myself.
“All right,” I say. Then, “Whatever the reason, I hope it’s settled. You can’t come back, Elliot. This will happen every time. You’re lucky I was here to stop it.”
“Why did you?” he asks. His hazel eyes flicker over the vampires behind me before settling back on my face. “Stop them, I mean.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I arch my eyebrow in a silent challenge.
“Fair enough,” he says tightly.
“Well, now that we’ve got that…” I trail off, stomach sinking with a realization I should have hadwaysooner. “Fuck.”
“What?” he asks. His lips are downturned, brow still creased. It’s unfair how handsome he is. Pretty people always look good, no matter the face they’re making. It’s distracting. A damned liability.
“You can’t leave,” I say. “They’ll eat you alive out there, Elliot. And I do mean that literally.”
“I’m a witch?—”
“Who clearly isn’t prepared to defend himself,” I snap. I start for my quarters, pausing when I realize I’ve given him my back. Whirling around, I say. “Come on.”
“You’re insane if you think I’m stepping another foot into this place.” He looks at me with disgust. He’s never looked at me like that. And I know it’s unfair to be hurt. I know exactlywhyhe’s looking at me like that, and still…it does something to my insides. It feels like my organs are melting, like my body is dying piece by piece.
