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I shrug. “It was cuteness overload. I panicked.”
The dark blue vein snaking down her forehead throbs. She can’t puzzle me out. Why I’m not afraid of her. It’s either a really smart—or really stupid—play.
“Whatever,” she says. “Leave, Trailer Park. This school isn't for you.”
That nickname is really getting old. “You’re wrong,” I somehow manage as her fingers dig deeper into my jaw. “I don’t even . . . live in a trailer.”
I swear in my periphery I catch the prince’s lips quirking.
She tilts her head to the side, her eyes narrowed like she’s trying to figure me out. Somehow I manage not to flinch as she leans down and sniffs me—sniffs me, for Fae’s sake.
A cruel smile bares her snow-white teeth, complete with a set of fangs. She must be half-shifting, but I’m too nervous to remember what her animal shifter form is.
“Joke all you want,” she says, “but you can’t hide the stench of your fear.”
“Fuck you.” The words just tumble out. Maybe she is getting to me.
Something dark and dangerous flashes across her face. A shot of cold pierces my chest—
“I’m bored, Inara. Let’s go.” The Winter Prince is standing next to Inara, his hand resting on her shoulder. I recognize the long, delicate fingers from my vision last night, the fingernails kept neat and clean.
Her eyes brighten at the contact, and the icy dagger I felt spearing my flesh disappears as she makes doe eyes at the prince. Gag me.
Someone’s obviously been forgiven.
The hatred pouring from her dissipates, but she’s not totally done with me yet. “Where’s your Summer Court now? What about your friends?” She glances around, pretending to look for them, while panning for the camera. Someone laughs. She slides her dark gaze back to me. “I rule this school, and no one, not even the teachers, can help you. Stay, and I’ll discover your deepest fear and make it happen.”
She releases my jaw, and I rub the tender spot where her fingers gouged. That’ll leave a bruise.
“See you in class, Trailer Park,” she calls. “Unless you know what’s good for you.”
She turns on her heel and struts down the hall with her minions in tow. Reina flashes me a smug look before trailing after them with her two boy toys. The Winter Prince is the last to leave.
“You shouldn’t antagonize her,” he admonishes.
I grit my teeth. “It’s not in my nature to roll over and play dead.”
“I can see that.” His eyes linger on me. There’s a darkness in his look.
I stare back, letting my frustration and anger over Inara’s trick leak out until it fills the air between us. Our seemingly mutual hatred. The air between us crackles with the raw emotion, so real it could drown us.
The memory of being trapped in his head last night surfaces. The intimacy of seeing his most private moments. I feel his confusion, his anger and need. I see the way he looked at my picture and realize it’s the same way he looks at me now.
Only, maybe it’s not hatred in his stare, but something else. Something I don’t quite understand. Something dark and ragged and . . . yearning.
And then it happens again. A burst of icy warmth blooms between us. For a moment, a breath, I feel drawn to him. Tugged along an inescapable chain of familiarity and desire.
Suddenly he shoves off the locker and stalks away, leaving me confused and disoriented.
What the frick was that?
By the time Mack and Evelyn find me, I’ve collected myself enough to pick up the book I tossed. Properties of Elemental Magic.
I’ll never look at it the same.
“Oh, God, Summer,” Mack cries. Her mouth falls open as she takes in the look on my face. “What happened?”
“Inara happened,” I mutter. “She glamoured me and then did some trick and I saw . . .” I choke on the actual description as the image of the severed head pops in my mind. Bile stings my throat, my stomach clenching. “It looked so . . . real.”
