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My glare drops as my brows raise in surprise. “You can do that?”
“Most members of Cross and Spider can do that,” Gideon says. “They deal with listening spells, silence spells, the ability to understand all languages, etc.”
It’s all I can do to keep from bouncing in my chair. “Spy magic? You have spy magic?”
“That is an oversimplification, but I suppose that, yes, I would make an excellent spy.”
“But not as good as you, Ro. When you have some experience under your belt, you’ll be able to imitate anyone.” Ezra sounds proud of that fact, as if he has anything to do with my abilities.
The idea of that is too much for me to fathom at the moment, so I ignore his comment and instead focus on something not witchy. Which isn’t hard, because my stomach gurgles angrily at me.
After traveling for twenty hours straight and only eating airport food, I had really been looking forward to the sandwich that is now on the ferry floor.
I pat my stomach, sadly, promising we’ll fill it when we get to school, as Gideon curses and stomps away from us. “What’s wrong with him?”
Hardin shifts closer until his thigh presses against mine. “Some wanker put his hands on his girl. Of course, he’s going to be upset about it.”
I shake my head. “I never said I was his girl or your girl or any of you’s girl.” My face squishes up at that statement cause the grammar can’t possibly be right, but forge on. “I’m not yours to protect.”
Fielder shifts until he’s leaning forward, forearms braced on his knees. “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Sweeney. You’re ours whether you like it or not.”
There is absolutely no reason for warmth to grow in my chest at his words. No reason for my stomach to get all fluttery like a shit ton of butterflies just took flight. I take some time to pin each of those butterflies back down with a needle right through their hearts. I can’t give in to them.
If I do, if I give in to the boys that tortured me for months, what does it say about me?
I will not be that girl. No.
I refuse.
Fielder must see something in my face because he shifts back and just as he settles, I state for the record. “I’m not fucking any of you.” To add weight to my statement, I cross my arms over my coffee covered chest, and tip up my chin. “I just want to put that out there. If you’re right, and I am not sure you are, and I am a witch, then I obviously need help learning what exactly that means, but I’m not going to fuck any of you to do that. The most you can hope for is… friends. And even then…” I shake my head as I trail off.
“Good to know that saving your life gets me friend-zoned, love.”
I shift a glare in his direction. “You think that because you beat some asshole up, I owe you something? That I should offer to give you a blowjob or some shit?” I tap my finger on my chin. “I have an idea. How about we go find a janitor’s closet? We can pretend I went down on you when we come back out. It’s essentially the same fucking thing, right?”
Shaking my head again, I stand up, intending to storm out of the alcove, but all three of them reach out to grab on to me, to keep me from going.
“I’m sorry, Rosalind. I didn’t mean it how it sounded.” I look at Hardin, surprised by the note of pleading in his voice. “Really, I’d take being your friend over not being anything to you any day of the week. Please, don’t go.”
Fielder’s thumb brushes over the back of my hand. “It’s not safe, Sweeney. And I don’t mean just from other students, though yes, some of them are from the coven and will be gunning for you. I mean, from the elders. They’ll have people watching. I’ve done my best to shield that you’re coming back to Septem Stellae from my father, but it’s only a matter of time before he finds out.”
A flash of Fielder’s father comes to mind. Cold eyes, the sneer, the suggestive things he said to me. I can’t suppress the shudder that works over me, so I try to hide it by sitting down again, properly chastised.
As much as it pains me to admit it, I need these guys. At least until I find my feet, until I understand more of this world that we’re in. Once I have a grasp on everything, I’ll think about moving away from them, separating myself. So that I don’t need to be around them anymore, so I don’t have to spend time with them.
It’ll be easier to not fall into bed with them if I can just stay away.
I spend a moment thinking about all the shit they did to me, finishing up with Fielder on my dorm room floor grinding against me, making me come before he called in his favor, making me drop out of the one place in the world I felt called to be.
Yeah. The sooner I have a grasp on all this witchy shit, the better.
I settle back on the bench and try to ignore them. They have a quiet conversation around me, maybe sensing that I’m not in the mood to talk anymore. They chat about surprisingly mundane things, a baseball game, a professor who they think is cheating on their husband, how Hardin’s family was so happy to see all of them.
Gideon reappears with two trays of food. He places a sandwich in my hands before he even gives the guys a chance to grab from the options. I look up at him in surprise. “That’s where you went? To get me food?”
Gideon grumbles something I can’t make out and then offers the tray to his friends. They all make their selections and the alcove is quiet while we all eat. When my stomach is happy with the amount of food, I stand up and all of them look at me. “I’m just going to clean up a bit.” I motion at the front of my shirt and the brown splotches. “There’s no saving my shirt, but I can try to do something about the rest of me.”
Ezra shakes his head. “I can’t wait for you to grasp the whole ‘we’re witches’ thing.” He makes a complicated motion with his hand and the splotches on my shirt just disappear, like they were never there to begin with.
