“You should always carry your cards, Miss Milan. But you don’t need anything special for tonight. Oh, you might want to wear a jacket, though. Who knows where the stars will take us.”
She says this last bit with a breathy, mysterious tone that leaves me wondering what the hell I’ve just gotten myself into.
Then, with a wink and a quick flick of her wrist, she sends me on my way.
Just before I turn to leave, I catch sight of my essay resting at the top of the stack.
There, circled on the page in bright red letters, is my grade: A+.
Eight
STEVIE
As much as I’ve griped about Doctor Devane’s mega hard-on for rules and regulations, after last night’s nightmare-turned-reality-show, all the bad news Trello dropped this morning, and my pending mystery date with Professor Maddox, Doc’s authoritative energy is just what I need.
Besides, he’s the head of the Brotherhood and the emanation of The Moon card. If anyone’s got the 411 on crazy dream scenarios, it’s him. And unlike William Eastman, Dr. Devane doesn’t make me feel like a criminal just for breathing. Most of the time, anyway.
“Miss Milan? You’re uncharacteristically early today.” He’s behind his desk in the mental magicks classroom, half out of his chair as I approach. His smile is cautious, and for a rare unguarded moment, I sense a flicker of his energy.
It’s surprisingly welcoming. Relieved. Happy to see me.
But there’s something darker lurking beneath—a flash, and then it’s gone before I can fully pinpoint it.
It feels a lot like shame.
“I was hoping we could chat?” I say with a tentative smile. Then, narrowing my eyes, “Youmissed me.”
“Nonsense.” Doc grins and his flint gray eyes sparkle, the skin crinkling around the edges as he deftly shores up his emotional walls. “But Iamglad to see you out and about again. How are you feeling?”
“Better. Stronger.” I pull up a chair and sit across from him as he settles back into his seat. “I went for a run this morning. Steered clear of the Forest, though.”
He shifts in his chair, his smile faltering. I may not be getting a direct hit of his energy at the moment, but even a fool could sense that something’s up.
“Doc?”
“I’m…” He lowers his head, ducking my gaze. “You have every right to be mad. Of course you do. I’m sorry. I should’ve said something. Made my presence known.”
I’m about to open my mouth and ask him what the hell he’s talking about, but when you want answers, sometimes shutting up is a better way to get them than asking questions. Seems most people would rather spill their deepest secrets than sit too long in the unnerving presence of silence.
“It’s just…” He sighs, then finally meets my gaze across the desk again. “Going out alone like that, so soon after the attack…”
Still, I wait, offering no more response than a raised eyebrow.
“Stevie, do you really think it’s wise?”
“I think I’m wearing a tracking device,” I finally reply, “and staying on the trails, and sending my itinerary to one of you every time I plan an excursion farther away than my own shower. How much wiser would you like me to get, Dr. Devane?”
“I…” He closes his mouth, pressing his lips into a thin line as if he’s trying to hold back the rest. There’s a faint murmur of students passing through the hallway outside the door, but here in the classroom, that ol’ silence is a killer, and he finally breaks. “No, you’re right. You’re absolutely right. I shouldn’t have followed you. It was overstepping, and I’m sorry.”
“Wait… Youfollowedme?” I’m out of my chair, anger racing up my spine like fire. “On my run? The whole time?”
“From the Blazing Pine trailhead all the way to Rock Basin, and back again. You didn’t know?” Guilt morphs into confusion on his face. “I… I assumed that’s what you came here to discuss.”
“If Ihadknown, I would’ve maced you. Newsflash, Doc. Women don’t like being followed—especially when we’re alone, and especially when we spent the better part of two days trying to establish boundaries and rebuild trust.” I turn my back on him and pace the room, trying to burn off the frustration.
“I was only trying to protect—”
I spin around and glare at him, shocked that his desk doesn’t burst into flames. “Protect? No. I’ve got a better word for that, Doc. Stalking.”
