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“Yes.” He grabbed the doorknob.
“No contact.”
“Got it.”
“And I’d like to have a conversation in a few days to see how things are going.”
o;Boys!” said the secretary.
The girl rolled her eyes, shoved the papers in her messenger bag, and turned for the door.
So that was that.
Like it mattered. He turned back for Vickers’s office. The door was half open, and he pushed it wide, wondering why on earth he’d been called down here.
And then he saw the student in the chair, the girl with a tear-streaked face who was cradling her wrist, and his heart just about stopped.
Calla Dean.
Kate stood in the empty hallway and checked her phone. Already, a message from Silver.
Honestly. She’d been here fifteen minutes.
Surveillance only. Do not engage.
As if he hadn’t told her that enough times this morning. Like she was stupid enough to engage with a bunch of rogue Elementals right here in the middle of school. The caution tape lining some of the hallways was proof enough of their propensity for destruction.
What did Silver think she was going to do? Start a fight in the cafeteria?
Her phone buzzed, the silent feature loud in the empty hallway.
Meet anyone interesting yet?
She snorted at the phone. The secretary had been interesting because she’d misspelled Kate’s name twice—and how hard was it to spell Kate Sullivan? The boys in the office had been interesting because they lived up to every promise about high school, leering at her like she was a pinup poster instead of a real live girl.
Except that boy with the piercings and the white streak in his hair.
He’d been interesting because of the way the air hung quiet around him, as if he walked in a sphere of his own control.
The phone buzzed again.
Status?
God! She was tempted to take a picture of her middle finger and send it back. Her fingers flew across the screen.
Heading to first period. Maybe you can do something more useful than texting me.
As soon as she pressed SEND, she regretted it. Silver stood between her and more missions like this. She started to type a new message that would take the sarcasm out of the first, when one of the classroom doors flew open.
A middle-aged teacher in a tweed sport coat and wire-rimmed glasses stood there. Students in his classroom, seated by twos at lab tables, peered out curiously.
The teacher didn’t look so curious. He gave her a knowing look. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Miss?”
Kate slid the phone into her bag and flipped blond hair out of her eyes. She could charm anyone. She had a bedroom answer ready, but the way this guy was looking at her told her it wouldn’t be appreciated. She slapped a distressed look on her face and yanked at one of the sheets the secretary had given her.
“It’s my first day,” she said, making her voice plaintive. “The secretary said she’d have someone escort me to my first class, but then she got busy . . .”
The teacher nodded and snapped his fingers at a student in the front row of the classroom. “Nick. Show her where she needs to go, and come right back.”
