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He looked at me obliquely and stood up from his chair, looming like a dark shadow in the dying firelight.
“I understand. I won’t interfere where I am not wanted or needed. But if you feel you are being hurt or abused, please know that I stand ready to defend you.”
“Thank you,” I said again. I looked up at him and considered giving him a quick hug to thank him for being so kind. I knew Emma might have done it—she was more tactile than I was. But in the end, I was a little too shy, so I just nodded.
He nodded back with finality.
“Good night, Kaitlyn.”
And then he was gone, slipping up the spiral staircase and out the trap door that led from the Dungeon to the Dining Hall as silently as a shadow.
I stood there for a long moment after the tall Nocturne had gone, frowning to myself. I had the feeling that Griffin had been trying to tell me something and that I had missed it somehow—but I wasn’t sure what it was.
In the end, I decided he was simply being nice and decided it was time to go to bed. I was way too tired with the day’s crazy events to stay up worrying about solving some Nocturne puzzle I didn’t have all the pieces to. I would go to sleep, and tomorrow would be a better day.
Or so I thought.
17
Kaitlyn
The next day the very thought of food nauseated me. I didn’t know why, when I had been feeling so much better the night before after eating Avery’s rare roast beef. But honestly, even the idea of dry toast turned my stomach. So instead of going through the serving line with the rest of my Coven-mates, I grabbed a cup of hot tea and went to sit at our table by myself.
Normally, I would have had Avery for company. He never ate anything the cafeteria produced, preferring to live on over-creamed and sugared coffee during the day and make us all something delicious for second supper almost every night. But this morning, he was happy to go through the line with Emma and Megan, just to see Nancy and her fellow Weird Sisters serving everyone.
“I’m having schadenfreude for breakfast,” he’d said brightly, as he followed Megan and Emma into the cafeteria line with a big grin. “I plan to have a big, heaping plateful of it while I watch those bitch-witches dishing out everybody’s breakfast.”
So I was all alone at our table, sipping tea, when Ari approached me.
The minute his shadow fell over me, I looked up, startled. His clear, amber eyes stared directly into mine and for a moment, I felt frozen—unable to do or say anything.
“Kaitlyn,” he said in that deep, quiet voice of his. “I must talk to you.”
“Talk to me?” I repeated stupidly.
“Yes.” He nodded and then seemed not to know what to say next. “I…got my shirt back in today’s laundry,” he said at last and there was something like pain in his voice. “I suppose I understand why you decided to send it back.”
I had known, of course, that the shirt would automatically go back to him after it passed through the laundry room in the sub basement of the castle. But I hadn’t known he had missed it in the first place—or that getting it back would make him sad.
Sad? whispered an angry little voice in my head. He’s only sad because he can’t fool you anymore!
And then the memory of what he and Nancy had been saying yesterday stung me like a bee and suddenly I wasn’t frozen anymore.
“I sent it back because it wasn’t mine—I would think you’d be glad to get it. Unless you burned it because I touched it, that was,” I snapped.
“Burned it?” His eyes widened. “Why would I do something like that? I wanted you to have it.”
“Right. As if I’d believe that for a minute,” I said. “I heard what you and Nancy were saying yesterday. I know what you really think of me,” I told him. “Well, the feeling is mutual.”
Honestly, I don’t know where I got the nerve to be so bold with him. He was handsome and rich and royal and I was an ugly little scarred human nobody. But the anger rose up in me and gave me words to say I never would have dreamed of before.
“Please…” Ari looked pained. “If you’d only let me explain…”
“I think you’ve said everything there is to say already,” I shot back, lifting my chin. I don’t need to hear any more, thank you.”
“No…” He raked a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. “You don’t understand. What Nancy said—”
“I understand enough to know when I’m being set up for a cruel prank,” I said tartly, interrupting him. “How did you decide to do it? Did Nancy come to you and convince you to pretend to be nice to me so you could make fun of me later?”
