Page 8

Scan. Shelve. Scan. Smile. Shelve.

I shambled through the routine at the library later, mind in a haze and heart in a vise. My dreams used to be a solace, but after meeting Bellamy a couple of days ago, they felt more like a cruel taunt of what I’d never have. For the tenth time since I woke up, I wondered if this was all a huge mistake. Moving to Glenoakes, trying to contort myself into some semblance of what’s normal. Deva meant well with her final wish, but I was losing confidence that I could fulfill it.

Squealing laughter echoed through the quiet library, subtle as a bull in a china shop. A table of college-aged students had been sitting at one of the study tables for an hour, and I knew far more about them than I cared to. The particularly loud one was Margo, and she was upset about having to spend her summer making up a required class she’d failed. Apparently, even Daddy couldn’t pay off the dean to get her a free pass.

Seriously.

I adjusted the oscillating fan on the counter and pushed the long sleeves on my shirt up a little. The library must have used the same maintenance company as my landlord because the air conditioning wasn’t fixed here yet either. I glanced at the clock and breathed a sigh of relief when I realized Ben would be here to take over in just under an hour.

The books had piled up on the cart while I spent hours doing anything other than shelving them to avoid going near the table of loud students. I couldn’t leave them for Ben to deal with, though. With an exaggerated groan, I dragged my weary bones out of the chair.

Thirty minutes later, the only books left were the ones destined for the section that Margo and her obnoxious friends were still occupying. Now I could only hope that they wouldn’t notice me as I pretended to be invisible.

It worked for about fifteen seconds until one of the wheels on the cart shrieked loud enough to interrupt their conversation. The table went silent, the weight of their eyes smothering. It made my skin crawl, and my magic crawled right along with it. It was tense, waiting for a threat.

Deep breath.

“Sorry,” I mumbled and kept going, head ducked like it might help me avoid any further attention. One of the boys in the group—I think I heard him called Tommy—turned in his chair to track me as I passed.

“What’s your rush, sweetheart?”

Ew. Nope. Stay calm.

I did my best to ignore the way his voice slithered over me. It drew my magic even closer to the surface, and it crackled like water in a hot, oiled pan. He didn’t comprehend the danger he was in, and he was determined to wrench a reaction out of me.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.”

His friends sniggered some unkind things, but I continued to push the cart, stupidly clinging to the possibility that he’d take the hint and leave me alone. Then it was too late.

Too late to realize my sleeves were still pushed up.

Too late to shout a warning or flinch away.

Too late to do anything at all when that foolish boy wrapped a hand around my bare forearm.

Magic pulsed out of me with so much force that it made me dizzy. I didn’t stand a chance at catching it. Icy fingers that I hadn’t felt in a long time curled around my heart and sent frost through my veins. Tommy recoiled immediately, jolting back like I’d hit him with a taser, and the bone-numbing dread leeching through my body said only one thing.

I’d just destroyed another life.

6

CORDELIA

Two days passed, filled with the agony of soul-rending guilt. I didn’t see Tommy again, but the look of seething hatred that Margo and her sidekicks gave me when they walked into the library today made the blood in my body rush toward my feet, leaving me lightheaded and breathless. The rest of the morning after that was a pathetic attempt at self-deception.

That look could have meant anything.

Margo just didn’t like me.

Tommy was fine.

Yeah. Lying was not in my skill set.

Every time I heard the library door slide open, my head turned on its own like Pavlov’s dog reacting to the dinner bell. Every single time, a spark of hope lit up in my chest that maybe I hadn’t done something awful to someone innocent. I never wanted to see anyone so badly.

Except for the six-foot-something golden god with amber eyes and a charming smile who’d been haunting my thoughts, and that made it even worse. What right did I have to be pining over him when I was nothing more than a monster in human skin? What right did I have to seek comfort when all I did was wreak havoc?

But my magic didn’t care. For the last week, it had been unbearable. Aching. Craving.