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23
MIA
A pity the Scale-ball match is over. There I’d have found the whole school gathered. I carry my anger like a banner as I march through the Academy, my love for my cousin burning fierce. She’s the one who taught me how the world works, how seasons change, how boys and girls are drawn together and then pulled again apart by the laws of attraction, how the moon brings blood and night brings fear, how marvelous and complicated life is.
I won’t let her down.
I check the refectory but it’s pretty much empty. I hadn’t realized how much time I’d spent preparing the articles. The sky is darkening. The moon is out, visible over the branches of the trees, almost full—a silver plate, a silver eye winking at me.
Feeling strangely ill-at-ease, as if the moon is watching me, I head toward the stadium. The doors are closed, though not locked as I discover when I push them—but as expected, the stadium is mostly empty, spotlights shining on two guys running laps. The bleachers are dark.
Nope. This won’t work. Are all students in their rooms studying? All study and no party? Weird. I’m walking away from the stadium, mulling this over, when the sounds I’ve been hearing finally filter through to my conscious brain.
Right. A party…
I turn my steps toward the lake and already see the bonfires through the trees, hear the swell of music in the air, voices, and laughter, and bodies moving to the beat.
Perfect! From the looks of it, most of the Academy is gathered there. I wonder about the occasion. Not that students need a special occasion to party.
Now I need to find the boys. They’re probably at the heart of this gathering, wooing girls only to break their minds and hearts afterward, or worse, much worse if the articles I’m carrying are anything to go by. They’re dangerous guys and…
And something in my chest tugs, as if resisting what my mind is telling me, pulling me in the other direction—Emrys touching my cheek, Ashton winking at me, Jason grinning with those lickable dimples, Sindri sprawled in his armchair—no, no. I shake my head. These are tricks of the mind, the boys’ beauty wreaking havoc on logic, and it doesn’t change the facts.
So I ignore the tug and keep going.
The fires burn merrily, flames rising and falling, painting the party-goers in shadow and gold, making the glasses in their hands glint as if they’re crystal instead of plastic.
At the center of the gathering, near the water, some girls are dancing and the boys are watching them with predatory looks—the effect made starker by the fact that the girls are of course human and the boys mostly inhuman, sharp fangs or pointed ears or simply their aura of danger giving them away.
Where are they? The kings of the school, the kings of the party, leaders of their gangs. They have to be here.
“Sweetheart, we organize the parties,” I think I hear Ashton’s voice in my head and shiver.
Right.
“Mia?” A girl is heading toward me. A fae girl, I realize as she approaches, a familiar girl.
“Anala,” I whisper. Sindri’s gang, my mind provides.
“We’ve been looking for you,” she says. “Sindri—”
“Where is he?”
Her eyes narrow. “Something’s different about you,” she whispers. “Your magic—”
“Magic?” I snort. “I have no magic. But I have a plan.”
She steps back. “Something’s wrong.”
Annoyed, I turn away and head toward the lake and the dancing. “I’ll find him on my own.”
He has to be around here. How hard would it be to find a haughty prince of the fae? I just need to find a guy with a fae entourage, probably with a girl or two in his lap.
This time when the tug in my chest comes, I ignore it, ignore the sheer anger slicing through me at the thought of girls in the boys’ laps, and I don’t know why I’m so damn angry but I’ll use it. Anger is like fuel, propelling me forward, warming me up in the chill of the night, lighting up a little bonfire in my brain.
Where are they?
“Mia! Wait up!”
