“You’re a murderer,” I say. Blurt is a more accurate word. But somewhere betweenshut the doorand her not wanting anyone to know I’m here…I can’t bear the tension surrounding us. Surrounding me, at least.
I expect Secora to tense again, but for all the grief I got asking for honey, she doesn’t so much as flinch now.
“Yes,” she says. She swirls both teas, but releases them to faceme. Behind her, the spoons continue stirring. Without even looking, she’s controlling them by magic.
Powerful, my brain warns me.More powerful than she looks.
It’s her height, I decide, that makes her look unassuming. That, paired with her large, doll-like features, makes her look innocent. Like something in need of protection.
“The guy you killed,” I say. My voice chokes as I speak, until my words are almost too garbled to understand. “He was my best friend.”
Harrison Iyle had been my best friend from the time I could walk until the day he died. We’d grown up together. Been more like brothers than friends. He spent most weekends at my house. Taught me how to play groundball. Made me laugh so hard my stomach hurt for days. He could be an asshole, sure, but he didn’t deserve to die.
He didn’t deserve to be murdered by this five-foot-nothing woman. She’d only been fifteen at the time. What kind of fifteen-year-old murders her classmate?
“Yes,” Secora says again. She leans back, crossing her arms over her chest. The movement shifts her black sleeves, revealing her wrists. Her very bare wrists, where golden bands used to trap her magic.
She should be balking at the realization I was Harrison’s friend. At the very least, she should look apologetic. She doesn’t, and that lack of remorse makes her hideous. She is a monster without chains, and even those weren’t enough to protect Harrison.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Elliot,” she says, following my gaze on her wrists. Her voice is unsettlingly gentle as she looks over me. “If it’s any consolation, I haven’t really killed since I was fifteen.”
“It’s not,” I snap. “I don’t believe you, for one thing. But foranother, even if I did, it wouldn’t make me feel better. Youkilledmy best friend. Plus three other innocents.”
Her eyes narrow, and I wait for her to say something against me. That they weren’t innocent. That they deserved it.
If she does…I’m not sure what I’ll do. I clench my fists, feeling an unexpected flare of magic in my palms.
She’s powerful, buthowpowerful? Enough to take me down? Enough to kill me?
I run my tongue over my teeth, debating. This could be the win the witches need, a way to step back into power after the vampires’ recent victory over us. Secora’s death would certainly hurt the vampires. She’s the only reason they’vewonanything in the past twenty years.
“I could kill you,” I say. The words don’t come out half as threatening as I intend. I don’t believe them, and by the way her face softens, she doesn’t either.
“You’re not a killer, Elliot.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” I say. Ihope, because maybe she did. Maybe she stalked Harrison for months before killing him. Maybe she stalked me too, and the only reason I’m still alive is because she had to flee the Day Realm.
“I know enough,” she says simply.
My lip curls without permission, desperate to argue with her. She’s right though. I’m a healer by nature, and the simple thought of hurting someone makes my stomach turn. I’ve never been one to get in fights, not even when people deserve it.
But Secora Reedclearlydeserves it.
She surprises me by turning once again, facing our teas. I’ve lost count of how many times she’s given me her back. This time is objectively worse. She knows I’m debating killing her, and she’s still acting like I’m not a threat.
If she remembers me from school—and she’s certainly pretending to—she would know I was top of our class. I couldhave her unconscious already. Could have her lifeless body at my feet in seconds. Just because I’m not quick to violence doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be good at it.
“Even if you were a killer,” she says lazily. She turns back to me, and I feel a flare of shame that I wasted my opportunity. She holds our teas in either hand. “If you killed me or kidnapped me or whatever you’re thinking…you’d die for it. Trust me. Sebastian doesn’t take kindly to people hurting his own, in case you’ve forgotten what happened with Grace.”
Now I do snarl. That night left far too many dead. It’s what initiated the sickness in my mother. Secora may not have been the one to seal the curse, but she undoubtedly played a role in it.
“Here,” she says. Remaining at the kitchen counter, she floats my drink across the room. The pale blue teacup hovers in front of me, but I don’t touch it.
I shouldn’t have asked for it. I don’t know why I did. I’m obviously not going to drink tea from a known murderer. Doesn’t matter if I watched her make it. She could have all too easily poisoned it?—
“And here I thoughtIwas the stubborn one,” she says on a sigh. Her lips tick into a barely-there smile. When I blink, the expression is gone, and I decide I imagined it.
Elliot Lyrie
