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“I’m going to talk to Ashton.” I start walking away to leave the unwanted, bitter thoughts behind.
“We find the fae caster, we have Zoey,” Sindri says, falling easily into step with me. “She owes this fae a favor. We control the fae, we control the favor.”
Of course. Trust Sindri to focus on strategy, not emotions. This isn’t about making me feel better, and why does it bother me that he isn’t indignant on my behalf that such a slur is written on my back?
Why are emotions so complicated?
Navigating the dune-like hillocks in a dress, even with my ballerina flats on, isn’t easy, and I start when Sindri wraps an arm around my waist and lifts me up, carrying me the last yard to our vampire friend. The feel of that muscular arm around me gets me hot and calms me down at the same time.
When he sets me down beside Ashton, I smile up at Sindri and find his dark eyes on me, an assessing look in them.
“Ash?” Sindri says without lifting his gaze off me. “I didn’t expect to find you here. Are you okay?”
Ashton’s black hair is in his eyes, his cheekbones are flushed. His gray shirt is rumpled. The bottle of Whiskey he lifts to his lips is almost empty. “Better now.”
“Ash, no,” I whisper, dismayed. “You shouldn’t drink so much. You need to be in control. If you lose the grip on your magic again—”
“What, you’ll feel obliged to have sex with me?” he snaps.
The words are a slap to my face. Instinctively, I glance around to see if anyone is near enough to hear us. “Ash, it’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like?”
He’s right, I think with a shiver,and he’s not. I do feel somewhat obliged to do whatever it takes to help him. But I’d want him anyway, I know that now. It’s hard not to want such pretty boys, not to care, not to desire.
At least, that’s how I explain it to myself. It’s lust, turned into affection. It’s also hard not to care when they keep getting hurt. Someone’s got to take care of them. Their gang friends don’t seem to actually give a damn and as for their families… I’ve yet to see any sign of them, and I mean, in any form. Phone calls. Letters. Visits. Care packages. Weren’t they supposed to have that? I know Ophelia often told me of the care packages her mom sent her to the Academy.
Then again, Ophelia lied just about everything that mattered, so who knows if that was true?
“Ash, when are you going to the hospital to visit your brother?” Sindri gets down on one knee. “And what are you doing here, getting drunk?”
“The goddamn Headmaster won’t give me permission to leave.” Ashton lifts the bottle to his lips and finishes the booze off with a grimace. His signet ring flashes. “I’m leaving tonight.”
“Tonight?” I wrestle the bottle away from him, for all the good it will do now that it’s empty. “But if you didn’t get permission—”
His fists clench, his jaw hardens. “I don’t need his permission to visit Toby! Motherfucker.”
“He has no right to deny you such a thing,” I whisper, furious on his behalf. “And you have every right to go.”
“What will you do?” Sindri asks quietly.
Ashton says, “I’ll break out of the Academy.”
His words dance in the air before sinking in.
Sindri tsks. “Got a plan?”
“Of sorts. If my demonblood was still strong, it wouldn’t be so hard. It’s demonblood magic that keeps the gates sealed and the fence concealed.” Ashton rubs at his mouth. “But I’ll use all I have left.”
“Bleed yourself out? No. You need more of us to join you for it to work,” Sindri says. “I’ll mix my blood with yours. But it probably still won’t be enough.”
Ashton snarls something under his breath.
“We need the others for this escape plan to work,” Sindri goes on. “Kraish. You were right.”
“The others.” Ashton gives a dry heave of a laugh. “Right. They’d rather see me turn into a panther and get shot dead than help me.”
“Well, you’re not entirely wrong,” Sindri says, then winces when he catches the angry look I’m shooting him. “But also not entirely right.”
