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“I’m so sorry about this.” I announce, on behalf of both Tyberius and me. “It won’t happen again.”
Councilman Lawrence drops his microphone and takes one teetering step toward us, somehow managing to fix the entire room with his piercing gaze.
My ears are ringing, and I’m not sure if I’m shocked, or it’s just the effect of the microphone feedback. I’m mortified and furious, a bomb, about to explode, and it’s all I can do to hold myself together for just a bit longer and get outside before I absolutely lose it.
“You’re right, Miss Capulet, it won’t.” Councilman Lawrence is stern, reminding me uncontrollably of my old prep school headmaster. “We’ve already lost enough Order members this year. I might be on my way out, but I refuse to have my last months tainted by more violence. I don’t know how yet, but you can be sure that this violence will end if it’s the last thing I ever do in this town.”
ChapterTwo
ETTA
Iwas eight years old the first time I realized my family wasn’t entirely “normal.”
My father was away on business—a code term I would later learn meant he was staying with his mistress of the moment—and my mother had locked herself in her room for the weekend, leaving me in the care of my aunt Angelica.
Aunt Angelica didn’t know my friends or any of their parents, so when I asked to sleep over at Sarah O’Riley’s house on Saturday night, she had no idea she was sending me to a human’s house, or that Sarah’s family was deeply religious. My first clue that something was different was that Sarah’s family went to church in the morning.Church,during theday.The second was that not a single person cast any spells, and there wasn’t a pomegranate or an athame in sight.
Aunt Angelica had to explain to me—a few years earlier than anyone really intended—that while religion is common enough in our country, our religion simply isn’t accepted. That attributing your success to prayer is okay if you worship one God, but not if you ink a deal with the gods on your skin.
She explained that adult members of the Order are granted the ability to cast magic through runes, bestowed on them by the gods they pledge their life’s service to, and that one day I would also have the privilege to pledge my service in exchange for that power.
Even at my young age, I understood all that just fine. What I didn’t understand, and still don’t if I’m being honest, is how the same gods that accepted my family into their Order of acolytes; that accepted my best friend Cat’s family, and four other worthy families, also saw fit to accept a family as dark and corrupt as the Montagues.
Sometimes, I have to remind myself that gods make mistakes too. In that sense, I must be close to godlike, because my mistakes seem like they’re racking up lately.
* * *
Ithrow a venomous glance over my shoulder at Roman and Bennet Montague and grind my teeth as I drag Tyberius out of the ballroom. I’m not sure who I’m angriest at: Tyberius, for no doubt starting the fight. The Montagues, for whatever they did to provoke it. The gods, for putting us all in the same room again over and over, like lining up little plastic soldiers to fight over a LEGO castle. Or myself, for all the stupid, childish thoughts I was having before everything went to hell.
I shove open the front doors of the castle. The castle of the Order, is part temple, part society club, and part office building. The exterior walls are gray stone, worn by the sea air and the wind, and yellow and pink ivy creeps up the sides of the castle walls, giving it a romantic feel.
The cool autumn night air on my face does nothing to quell my burning indignation as I march Tyberius onto the sweeping, stone front steps. “What the hell was that?”
Ty has the audacity to scoff. “Calm down, Juliette.”
“Can you not call me that? Thanks.”
Ty shakes off my hand and straightens his jacket. “He was trying to kill me. You aren’t going to ask if I’m okay?”
“You look fine.”
I really wish I felt bad for Tyberius. I used to, and a better person probably still would. But as much as I despise the Montague’s, I have absolutely no doubt that they were minding their own business and Tyberius went and provoked them. They’re not innocent, but they’re also not my problem.
I take a deep breath through my nose, and try to think calming, happy thoughts. Fluffy kittens. Old books with unbroken spines. Uninterrupted bubble baths. Locking my cousin in a funhouse full of ghost-clowns. Plucking out Roman Montague’s eyelashes individually while the noise from theOPERATIONgame buzzes in his head.
Nope, too far.
My cousin cracks his knuckles.“I think I won that. Don’t you?”
“That is so far from the point.”
“But, I did, right?”
I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath. I’ve seen fights between these two before and Tyberiusneverwins, not even when there’s magic involved.Especiallynot when there’s magic involved, actually.
Objectively, tonight, it looked to me like Roman could have killed him, but came to his senses before committing actual murder in front of two-hundred witnesses. Then, Tyberius sucker punched him after the fight was over…but what do I know.
“It didn’t look to me like he was really trying to hit you,” I say diplomatically. “What the hell was that even about?”
