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“Cordelia,” he repeated to himself, rolling the word over his tongue. Heat sparked low in my belly as his lips moved. Then I was rushing through the door before I could start thinking more about his mouth and what else it might be skilled at. Once around the corner, I stopped and pressed my back to the wall. My heart pounded against the cage of my ribs, frustration surging at the distance I’d forced between myself and the man my magic so desperately wanted to cling to.

Deep breath. Find zen.

As my thoughts settled a little more with each exhale, I remembered what precipitated the whole situation in the first place: that stupid text that distracted me while I was crossing the street. I dug my phone out of my purse and unlocked the screen. The message was from a number I didn’t have saved, but it made my heart leap with excitement all the same.

Unknown

Thank you for your interest in sharing your talent with The Bird Cage! We’d like to invite you to our open audition being held this Saturday, starting at 9:00 am. The safety and security of our team, current or future, is our top priority, so if you accept our invitation, you’ll be required to sign a non-disclosure agreement to protect the identities of your fellow applicants. Follow the link below to find the NDA and further details about what to expect at your audition. We look forward to meeting you!

3

BELLAMY

I watched her disappear into the library, resisting the urge to follow like a lost puppy. Cordelia. Her name was as beautiful as her face. From the moment I saw her, I was star-struck. It wasn’t the shimmer of her dark hair or the scattered freckles across the bridge of her delicate nose. It was something else. Something soul-deep. The way her bright blue eyes bored into my being left a current running through my veins. For the first time in years, the constant ache in my chest eased, and I could take a full breath.

Pulling her out of the way of the idiot cyclist hadn’t been a conscious thought. More like a gut reaction. That instinct had been so consuming that it could have been a gun pointed at her and I’d have stepped in front of the bullet. The impulse shook me to my core. I’d never felt that inclination for anyone except my brothers.

My phone vibrated, pulling me back to the moment. I fished it out of my back pocket and swiped my thumb across the screen to answer.

“Hey,” I greeted, looking over my shoulder again.

“What’s taking so long?” Alaric cut straight to the point. “Everything alright?”

I cursed and looked at the time. I was supposed to go back to the house after delivering Ric’s work to the little gallery in town. The plan had been a quick detour for coffee from Patsy’s, but I somehow ended up near the quad instead, like some invisible force was pulling me. Just in time to cross paths with the enchanting girl who now consumed my thoughts.

“Sorry, all good. Got distracted,” I told him, setting off in the direction of the coffee shop. It was just a couple of blocks down Main on my way back to the car. I definitely needed the hit of Patsy’s caffeine now.

“By what?” There was worry in his tone, and I could imagine the frown creasing his forehead.

I glanced back at the library one more time before I turned the corner. “Not sure yet.”

“Bellamy.” A question and a warning.

“I stopped a girl from getting hit by a cyclist,” I elaborated. “And it’s just…I don’t know, she was different.”

“Different how?” Warning turned to suspicion.

“Like I said,” I told him as I shouldered through the cafe door, “I’m not sure yet. I’m at Patsy’s. I’ll grab you a latte.”

A grunt of acknowledgement was all I got before the call ended. Hopefully the latte would buy a little leniency for my vague explanation. Alaric deserved more than that. He was the head of our little brotherhood of misfits, and he’d die for any one of us. The least I could do was be straight with him.

But I hadn’t been lying. I really didn’t know what it was about Cordelia that made her stick to my brain like a burr. She was lodged there, a little mystery that I needed to unravel.

It was more than her endearing awkwardness. More than the way she tried to brush me off, like I wouldn’t see right through the attempt. It was a familiarity. A sense of Other. She could be a hybrid, but she didn’t seem to recognize what I was, and that was an instinct for any creature with shade.

I rubbed at my sternum while I waited for my coffee, feeling the ever-present ache. My gryphon keened in response, and a sharp twinge between my shoulder blades had me stiffening, wings itching to burst free. I took a slow breath and then another, willing the sensation to pass. Alaric would kill me if stories of another miraculous angel sighting began to circulate.

My order came up, and I accepted it from the barista with a hurried ‘thank you’ before rushing out the door. Every step I put between Cordelia and me had my beast on edge. He was pacing, anxious to go back to her and unable to understand why we couldn’t.

Back at the house, I pulled my Range Rover into the 5-stall garage, parking it between Lucian’s Challenger Demon and Rami’s Tacoma TRD. My brother’s Audi would be absent until the weekend. I looked over at Alaric’s Aston Martin Vantage, the dark blue of the sleek body reminding me of the sheen in Cordelia’s long hair. He was going to want answers, and I didn’t have many to give him.

I couldn’t hide out here forever, though.

I made my way into the house through the mudroom attached to the garage and paused. My keen ears picked up the thumping bass and muffled sounds coming from the lower level. Rami’s bedroom was down there, along with the gym. He and Lucian must have been sparring, keeping Luce in shape for the potential return to classes. I tossed my empty coffee cup and headed in the opposite direction, up another set of stairs to where the main suites were.

Ric’s door was half open, so I stepped inside and took in the chaos of the space. It was barely a bedroom anymore. Sure, there was a bed shoved in the corner, but I didn’t think it’d been used in a long time. He usually slept in fits and starts at his desk in between sketches. His art was in high demand, from galleries around the country to the social elite around the world.

Art by Griffin Holt. We’d all had a good laugh at the alias.