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"Is it just me,” Alex lets out a low whistle, “or does that man get weirder every time I see him?"
"It's not just you," I admit quietly as the sound of Uncle Marcus' footsteps disappears in the distance.
It’s not just you at all.
8
Mia
“I still can’t believe it.” Annabel fingers the pendant hanging around my neck. “An Electi crest pendant.”
“I’m not wearing it,” I scoff.
“What? You have to. You’re his prosapia. If you don’t—”
“Come on, Bel, you can’t be serious.” Pulling free of her hand, I turn to the mirror and study the pendant. It’s been three days since Cade gave me the damn thing. It hangs round my neck like a noose. It might as well be a collar. A leash. Maybe that’s what Cade intended. Something to degrade me and put me in my place, because God only knows he didn’t do it out of kindness.
“What’s it like, kissing him?”
“Seriously?” I balk at my friend in the glass mirror.
“What? I’m curious.” She shrugs, running her hands over my comforter. “It’s Cade freakin’ Kingsley. Most girls would kill to be in your position. I’m pretty sure Brook is trying to buy someone off right now.” Annabel shoots me a devious smirk.
“Ugh, don’t. I thought she was going to burn actual holes into the back of my head in one of my literature classes.”
“It makes you wonder though, doesn’t it? Everyone thought she and Cade were a sure thing. So why didn’t her name get called?”
Annabel wasn’t in this year’s offering. She was presented early, the summer before senior year. Her mom was sick, terminal. It was her dying wish to see her daughter at the Eligere. Since her father is good friends with Harrison Rexford, Quinctus agreed to let her enter before she turned eighteen. Of course, everyone knew she wouldn’t get chosen. It was the year Tim Davenport and Fawn Bailey’s relationship was officially confirmed, even though they had been promised to one another since they were just kids.
It will be Annabel’s choice if she enters the Eligere again in the future, but despite her intrigue about Cade and the Electi, I don’t sense she’s in any rush to present herself again. That’s why I like her. Annabel is intrigued about Quinctus and the Electi and Gravestone’s history in the same way I am—maybe a little too starry eyed where the Electi are concerned—but she isn’t brainwashed like so many of the folk in this town.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, fear trickling down my spine.
She’s right.
I haven’t stopped thinking about why my name was pulled from the calix. Someone in Quinctus wants me and Cade together…
But why?
I might be from Gravestone, but I’m not from his world. My father might work security for Phillip Cargill and the mayor’s office at the town hall, but that’s where the connection ends. We live in a modest house set on the edge of Gravestone Park. We’re more than comfortable, but we’re not rich in the same way the elite families are.
Cade could click his fingers and any number of people would come running to his aid. If I clicked my fingers there would be nothing but the sound of silence.
“Well, whatever strange magic is at work, I say enjoy it. He’s the hottest guy in Gravestone U, and you, girl, get to date him.”
“You do realize if everyone goes through with this, I’ll be doing a whole lot more than dating him?” Bile washes in my stomach.
Annabel rolls her eyes at me. “I’m not a total idiot. Of course I know. And I approve, obviously. It’s time you blew the cobwebs out of your vajayjay.”
“Never say that word again to me.”
“What? Vajayjay? Cooch, pussy, beaver, and my personal favorite… cunt.”
“Oh my God, what is wrong with you?” I balk, and she explodes with laughter.
“You should see your face. You, Mia Thompson,”—she jabs her finger at me—“are a prude.”
“I am not.” At least, I wasn’t when I was rubbing myself on Bexley at the party, begging him to fuck me. But I don’t tell Annabel that. Some things are better left unsaid.
