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Diana laughs beneath her breath. “I was kidding.”
“Me, too,” I murmur. I twist a lock of hair around my fingers, the way I do when trying to solve a sneaky equation in the lab. It usually helps me think and this time is no different. “So maybe he mistook me for someone else. Does your brother have…a lady friend who might look like me from the back?”
Her brows float up her forehead and her eyes lift to the ceiling. “That’s a good question. Um…not Trix or Krissy, for sure. They’re tall, skinny fairy types and at least a foot taller.”
Great, tall skinny fairies, who are all unfailingly gorgeous.
Nothing to feel insecure about there, Willow.
“Maybe Ava, a little,” Diana continues. “You’re both brunette, but she has all these bright pink streaks in her hair and loads of super cool witch tattoos.”
I scrunch my nose and try not to think about the that fact that nothing I have ever done, said, or worn could ever be called “super cool.”
“I think he and Vivian broke things off a few months ago,” she adds, “but she’s at least about your height.” Her gaze returns to my face and she frowns. “You okay?”
I will my jaw to unclench. “I’m fine.”
“You look like you just sucked a lemon wedge.”
“Your brother has a lot of girlfriends.”
“They’re not girlfriends, they’re women he fucks,” she says flatly. “He’s such a player. And then has the nerve to tell me I shouldn’t flirt with the human boys at my school. And all I do is flirt. I’ve never even kissed anyone but Jacob.” Worry flickers in her eyes. “You didn’t tell Maxim, did you? That I have a cat shifter boyfriend?”
I shake my head. “No, I wanted to talk to you first. But…I think you should tell him, Diana.” She groans and buries her face in her hands, but I push on, “I know it’s going to be awful, but he needs to know. For the safety of the pack. And your safety. If Jacob is a good guy, which I’m sure he is because you would be able to see in his aura if he wasn’t, then you two can get through this. And maybe even be able to stop sneaking around.”
Her hands slide down to her lap with another groan. “Oh, Willow, you’re so cute and hopeful. But my brother doesn’t work that way. He’s not a reasonable human. He’s a psycho who rushes to conclusions and refuses to listen to anyone who isn’t Hermione, one of his top guards, or sometimes, Dad. And not even Dad all the time. Deep down, I think Maxim blames Dad for getting poisoned. Like, if he’d been meaner to outsiders, it wouldn’t have happened.”
“What if I go with you?” I ask. “And help you break the news?”
Her eyes practically bulge out of her head. “Oh, hell no. I’m not going to be responsible for your murder. I don’t want blood on my hands, thanks.”
I smile. “He won’t murder me. He likes me now.”
Or at least he’s pretty damned desperate to get into my pants, maybe even desperate enough to listen when I talk.
Diana laughs. “Oh, sweet Willow. I really do like you, but you’re insane. Maxim will gobble you up and spit out your bones. And then he’ll lock me in a cage until he can arrange for me to be sent to a convent school for wayward shifter teens in Outer Mongolia.”
“He won’t gobble me up,” I say. “I think he realizes that we have…unfinished business. That we’ll be something to each other, though I’m not sure what.”
Diana gasps and scrambles backward so fast she falls off the footstool only to pop back up onto it a beat later and jab a finger at my face. “Willow, your eyes! They’re glowing.” Her face breaks into a wide smile. “It’s your pack gift!”
I laugh. “What?”
“Your pack gift. You’re a Pathfinder!” She claps her hands excitedly, then points to the mirror above the desk. I shift over, sucking in a swift breath as I see my eyes glowing gold around the centers of my pupils.
The light fades after a moment, but the knot in my stomach remains.
“Oh my God, this is amazing,” Diana continues. “And super rare and fabulous.” She proceeds to tell me what a Pathfinder is, what my powers will be, and what they could become with proper training and control. “But at first it can be kind of a tricky gift,” she says. “Your eyes are going to glow every time you speak a deep personal truth or predict something bound to happen in the most likely version of the future. So like…” She winces sympathetically. “Everyone is going to know your business.”
“Right.” I nod, eyes narrowing as Maxim’s sudden ability to “know” if I was telling the truth takes on a different dimension. “Your brother obviously knows about this, too, right? About Pathfinders?”
“Totally,” she says. “He’s been wanting one for a while. Like I said, they’re super rare. Only one or two are born every fifty years or so, and they tend to die in weird accidents.”
She pauses, lips puckering as she seems to think something through. “Because they can see predictable danger coming, maybe, and can avoid it? So only random sudden disaster can take them out?” She bobs her shoulders. “Our last one died in a car accident before I was born, but Dad told me all about him. He seemed super cool, and he was instrumental in helping us escape the Parallel. He predicted that a bunch of your pack were waiting at the portals to kill us, so we paid a bunch of witches to open a new portal. The one in the river that you came through, in fact.”
I pull in a breath, but she’s prattling on before I can get a word in.
“Did you know that our pack is responsible for that portal?” she asks. “Dad says everyone in The Parallel acts like it was always there, but it wasn’t.” She bares her teeth. “And it’s not totally stable, by the way. We’ve had a couple of people pop up on our side without the person they jumped off the bridge in The Parallel with. Maybe they were lost to the river, which is super sad. But they could also be trapped in another dimension of space time. Like…floating there forever.” She shudders. “I would not want to be caught in another dimension. That’s like, the worst kind of immortality. I’d rather die and I’m not into dying.”
