Page 101 of Heart of Mischief

That was the first time she thought it. The first time she allowed herself to ask the question that, in a million years, she never believed would ever cross her mind:

Does Elias Everhart have feelings for me?

No. It wasn’t possible. Just the day before, he’d said that he would rather die than do things likefeelorapologize.

But hadn’t he admitted that things were different now? That he could feel again?

And what if… what if what he’d felt had been towardher?

Oh gods.

His jaw clenched even tighter.

Don’t, she begged in her mind, hoping he could somehow hear.Please don’t shut them off again.

I only just got you back.

“It doesn’t matter if it was because you were drunk,” Abigail said, interrupting her internal plea. “That’s not the point. The point is that you’re letting him back in at all.”

“Abigail…” Lou’s voice held a warning.

“I mean, comeon,” Abigail went on, completely ignoring Lou. “You skipped two full days of school to hang out with him in the woods.Two days, Charlie. Before this week, you’d never even skipped asingleday of school, let alone two in a row.”

“We weren’t ‘hanging out in the woods,’” Charlie said, using her fingers to make quotes. “You know that. Elias was helping me train abilities that I couldn’t possibly access on my own. Abilities that I didn’t even know Ihad.”

“Right.” Abigail folded her arms in front of her chest, voice sour. “Brilliant, Charlie. Immediately forget every bad thing Elias has ever done the minute he bats his long eyelashes and promises to teach you magic.”

“You think I’veforgotten?” Charlie was yelling now, but she didn’t care. Didn’t care if every creature in the forest could hear her. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the heady confidence from before, rushing back like a sudden shift in the wind. Or maybe she’d finally had enough. “You think I’ve forgotten what Elias did? Of course I haven’t forgotten, Abigail. I’ll never forget that night. I’ll neverforget what it was like to watch someone I’d trusted—someone I’d begun to havefeelingsfor—try to kill everyone I loved. I’ll never forget the horror. The betrayal. I’ve spent the last four weeks trying to pretend I’m not afraid, but I’m fuckingterrified.” Her chest was heaving, hands trembling at her sides. “But above it all, aboveeveryother emotion, is the guilt. The knowledge that it wasmy faultyou were all there. My fault that your lives were in danger. My fault that none of you were going to make it to your eighteenth birthday, were never going to get into college or get a job or have kids or have your hearts broken or travel the world or whatever beautiful, painful things life had in store for you. None of that would have happened, and it wasmy fault.My fucking fault. My—”

A sob racked Charlie’s chest, cutting off her words midsentence. The edges of her vision went black. It was coming back. She could feel it. The tightness in her chest. The buzzing beneath her skin. The pounding of her heart, like a drum beating in her ears, and her gut, and her kneecaps, elbows, ankles, wrists. Her fists, which had somehow bent themselves into open claws, as if they were trying to grab hold of an invisible ladder.

I’m having an episode, she realized.Just like after homecoming.There was no time to fall back on one of her usual three tactics. No time to research, train, or even recite. It was too late. The terror was upon her.

“Charlie?”

The voice traveled to her as if down a long tunnel. It seemed to echo in her ears. Faint, distant. Something closed over her hands. Big and comforting, like the wool blanket her mom used to drape over Charlie when she would fall asleep during a movie.

“Charlie, look at me.”

The words were closer this time. Clearer. At some point, she must have squatted down, because the ground was far too close to her face. She looked up from it slowly, following the sound of thevoice. Finally, she found herself staring into two familiar wells of swirling green.

“It’s okay,” said Elias. His gaze was steady, his hands holding her clawlike fists with a firm but gentle grip. “You’re okay. Breathe.”

She inhaled through her nose. Her breath was wobbly, uncertain.

“Good. That’s great.” He nodded encouragingly. “Now hold it for four.”

She sealed her lips shut. While she thought that holding her breath right now would be awful, like suffocating as the forest collapsed around her, it turned out to be the opposite. Holding oxygen inside her body was strangely comforting. Something she could control in a world spinning out of alignment.

“Great. Now exhale. Keep your focus on me.”

Breath hissed out through her teeth. She felt like a leaky faucet, like there was something wrong with the basic mechanics of her body.

Elias nodded. “That’s perfect.”

Over the next thirty seconds, he coached her through the same process over and over. Every time her eyes tried to look away, to glance wildly about the forest, he brought her back to him. To his steady gaze. Constant, unmoving. With each exhale, the thundering of Charlie’s heart grew slower, less deafening. Her fingers loosened. The buzzing quieted. The shadows cleared from her vision.

“That’s really good, Charlie,” said Elias. “You’re okay. You’re in complete control.”