Page 69 of Lost and Bound

“No,” his response is immediate. Of course.

I seize onto my calmness, talking softly and not rising to the bait. “Can you?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“‘Oh’ is right. Have you told Cane?”

I snort a laugh at his question. “Listening doesn’t seem to be his strong suit, if you know what I mean.”

He grins, all but confirming he gets me in that regard. If only he got me in other ways.

Emrys sits back in his chair. Perhaps he’s trying more than I give him credit for. “Describe what you mean. Maybe you’ve got your terminology wrong.”

“Yeah, maybe. It’s not like there’s a lot of opportunity to share with others.” I take another look at the light shimmering around him, trying to find the best way of describing what I see. “Yours, for instance, is neon purple. The vibrancy and flow changes depending on your mood.”

“Do you see everyone’s?”

“Not everyone’s. Although I feel like my ability to see auras is changing.”

I definitely do not mention the other things that are manifesting—using his energy to shore up my shields, pulling birds from the pages of tomes, making antique tea chests appear like boxes, or having the ability to find ancient relics.

“Aura reading is an old magik. But I’m not convinced you’re actually seeing auras, you had pretty bad injuries when you first arrived, including a concussion to both your frontal and rear lobe.”

“How do you know that?”

“How do you think?”

“Cane.”

I don’t bitch. It’s none of my business how Thales operates, and if I were a teacher here, I’d want to know who I was dealing with. But Emrys has clearly read my file too, which is wrong on so many levels. It’s not as if the admin would listen if I were to complain that a student had access to confidential files, perhaps if I wasn’t a Nom, but even then I wonder.

Emrys’ comments about Cane were merely a tangent. “Head injuries are really difficult to diagnose because some recover quickly without any lingering symptoms, but others can suffer a brain injury and be changed forever.”

“You think my concussion is the cause of now being able to see colorful light around some people?”

“I think it makes more sense. There’s no other explanation really, because the test Cane did earlier conclusively confirmed your designation. Noms cannot do what you’re describing.”

I get up and walk to the window, pushing up on tippy-toes so the fresh air can blow across my face and chase away the hollowness currently settling in my bones. It’s not that I need to be anything other than what I am, but him not hearing me exacerbates a lot of my insecurities. I seriously wasn’t exaggerating when I mentioned to Arlan I was regressing.

Behind me, I hear Emrys speaking with someone, and given the nature of what he’s saying combined with how he’s speaking, it’s an easy guess it’s someone from class. I let him do his thing while I stare out the window a little longer.

I feel a push against my shield. Twisting around, Emrys is still talking, but he flicks his head, indicating it’s time for me to get back to studying.

He’s bombarded our private chat with links. But I’m not sure where to start, if I’m honest, so I stare at them, overwhelmed.

“I’m taking pity on you, new girl. That’s all the information you need to complete the assignment. I’m expecting average things from your paper and don’t want anyone thinking it was due to your lack of knowledge.” I catch a brash grin before he turns his focus to the other students needing his help.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

DEMONS BEING FARSIGHTED IS MORE ENTERTAINING THAN IT SHOULD BE

Emrys leaves me with only a slight headache and a room full of his swirling energy. I think I’m slowly getting more immune to his moods and his cynicism.

Lunch comes and goes without me having a bite to eat. A lot of that has to do with being in this house, surrounded by men I don’t trust. While eating shouldn’t be an emotional response, it’s hard gathering the mental strength to walk up the stairs when it means facing them again. Taking a nap sounds like a much better way to spend the precious few minutes allotted for our break.

Bugby moves from roosting on the windowsill to the top of the chair as I climb under the blankets.