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“What, friends?” She shrugs. “I mean, we are. I don’t really have any choice in the matter. But it doesn’t mean I approve of everything he does.”
“He’s just so…” I don’t even have words to describe how cocky and arrogant he is. He w
alks the halls of Gravestone U as if he owns the place, and in some ways, I guess he does. I’ve only been here a week, but I’ve known for years the power and sway Cade Kingsley holds over people.
He’s the head of the Electi. The heir of the Kingsley line. With Mr. Kingsley dead and buried, the entire Kingsley legacy rests on Cade’s shoulders…
And now mine.
God, I can’t even stand kissing him, let alone the prospect of being with him.
“Mia?” Sasha says as we move down the line.
“I just can’t believe this is happening. My name wasn’t supposed to be in the calix. It’s a mistake, it has to be.”
“Q doesn’t make mistakes,” she whispers. “You know that.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” I grumble as Sasha orders two lattes and a granola bar for herself.
“Is that okay?”
“Fine, thank you.”
Sasha lets out a small sigh. “I tend to act without thinking. But everyone likes lattes, don’t they?”
“I do.”
“So tell me about yourself, Mia Thompson.”
Is this really happening? Is Sasha Cargill, daughter of Phillip Cargill, really asking about me?
“What do you want to know?”
“Let’s start with why Bexley Danforth was ready to throw down with Cade over you.” Her brow lifts as she collects our order and guides me over to a table.
“I…” I swallow hard, wondering for a second just how much I can trust her. My gut says I can’t, not when she’s in Cade’s inner circle. But she helped me escape that whole situation; that must count for something.
“Relax,” she adds, sensing my hesitation. “I’m not interested in what or who you were doing before the Eligere.” Suggestion drips from her words.
“It’s not like that. Bexley is in one of my classes.” I decide to glaze over the real truth.
“So, back in the hall? That was about homework?” Her brows pinch.
“Bexley… he saw something at the party.”
Realization dawns in her dark green eyes. “Cade and the guys…”
“Yeah, I heard they taught Vincent Males a lesson down by the lake.”
“Fuck,” she breathes, smoothing a hand over her glossy auburn hair.
“I think Bexley was just surprised to see me with Cade after what happened.”
“You haven’t told him anything?”
“What? No! Of course I haven’t.” Bexley isn’t from Gravestone; he doesn’t know about the Eligere and Electi and Quinctus.
To know is to be sworn to secrecy, to uphold the codes of the town. It is a privilege not to be squandered.
