“She can’t seriously believe she’ll get preferential treatment,” Michelle is saying to both Celeste and Dyson, waving her hands in the air.
Celeste resumes biting her nail. “Mother Delaney is her aunt.”
Michelle snorts. “Then that means her mother was the filthy whore who slept with those wolves and then offed herself.” She whirls towards me and curls her upper lip. “Like mother, like daughter, I suppose.”
That’s it.
Untangling myself from Ansel’s arms, I launch myself at the witch.
The smartest thing I’ve ever done in my life? Not at all.
The most satisfying? Yup.
My fist connects with her cheek, jerking her head to the side.
“That was for my mother, you evil bitch,” I hiss. When she begins to lift her head, I punch her again. “And this one is for Reid.”
Dyson makes a move towards the two of us, and I have no idea if it’s because he means to physically pull me away from his sister, enter the fray himself, or reprimand Michelle for being a bitch. Either way, he doesn’t make it more than a step before Ansel’s there, pushing him back.
“Stay the fuck away from her,” Ansel snaps, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater.
Ansel—sweet, innocent, nerdy Ansel, who blushes when you say the words “duty” and “tush”—looks seconds away from committing murder in my defense. Aww.
“Fuck off.” Dyson waves a hand in the air, and the blast of magic sends Ansel flying backwards into a group of warlocks and witches who are climbing the stairs.
Both a warlock and a witch fall over, the latter accidentally spilling the drink of the girl beside her.
“Ansel!” I rush towards my friend, but Michelle grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling me back.
“I’m going to fucking rip your heart out, bitch,” she hisses in my ear.
As far as threats go, hers is pretty good. Not the best, admittedly, but a solid five on a scale of one to ten.
In front of me, Ansel is shakily getting to his feet, and the girl drenched in coffee is screaming at the one who spilled it in the first place. One of the warlocks snaps something at her, and a second man immediately steps forward, his hands balled into fists.
A few things happen very, very quickly.
First, Ansel lunges at Dyson with a snarl of pure, unfettered rage.
Next, the girl drenched in coffee slaps the other girl across the face. This causes one of the guys to take a threatening step forward, only to have a third girl cast a spell that causes him to hover in the air.
The two men I spotted earlier conjure what appear to be fireballs and toss them at each other.
And finally, Michelle reaches for my face, and electricity crackles from her fingertips, reverberating through me. Pain like I’ve never experienced before wracks my body. A sob catches in my throat, and tears burn and sizzle where they touch my skin. I know nothing but pain. It becomes my entire identity. Pain. Pain. Pain.
Ansel cries out as he’s thrown to the floor by Dyson, who looks more annoyed than angry.
One of the girl’s clothing is on fire, and her friend desperately douses her with water in an attempt to put it out.
Two guys are wrestling on the ground, their clothing destroyed and burn marks littering their skin.
And through it all…pain.
My hair singes. My skin burns. My vision goes hazy.
Something inside of me just…snaps. I don’t know what that something is, but it feels like a gate has been blasted open. I feel warm and cold all at once, and my fingers and toes tingle—and not because of the electricity coursing through me.
My skin suddenly feels too tight, like I’m wearing clothing that’s two sizes too small, and I desperately want to scratch at my arms and sides. Why am I so itchy?
