Page 17 of The Cursed Fae

A pit formed in my gut. Not the kind that made me think I ate too much. It was more of a light sensation, like the pit was hollow. The more I thought about my magic, the bigger the pit grew until it consumed my whole torso.

“Good. Summon the paper airplane,” Lazlo whispered, his breath warm against my cheek.

Nothing happened right away, but I heard fabric tearing after a long minute. I opened my eyes in time to see the paper airplane burst through a hole in my backpack. Laz snatched it out of the air before it reached me.

“Hey, give that back,” I said, jumping for the note he held out of my reach.

He started backing away, a mischievous smile on his face. “You want it? You'll have to take it.” Even as he spoke, Laz started unfolding the paper.

“No!” I lunged and smacked my hands against an invisible barrier he'd somehow thrown up.

Laz waggled a finger. “Summon it like a good little fae.”

I stomped my foot for good measure. “Give it back, Lazlo.”

He laughed. “Is it a love note? I bet it is. Let's see.” Being dramatic, he cleared his throat and read aloud. “Round and round they—”

I slammed the invisible wall with a wave of magic.

The paper stirred in Laz's hands but didn't take flight. “One by one they fall,” he continued.

Screw it.

The power for my magic might've come from water, but my ability to make things burst into flame was well-documented. Laz yelped and dropped the fiery paper, stomping out the flames with his shoe.

“Wow. I'm impressed. That's incredible for a water fae.”

I crossed my arms and glared at him.

“Oh, come on. I was teasing you. Thought it might be a little incentive.” He put a hand over his heart. “Honestly, I'm sorry.”

I rolled my eyes. “It's fine. It's just some stupid note.”

“Who's it from?” Laz arched one eyebrow. “Secret admirer?”

“You tell me,” I shot back.

He laughed. “Don't flatter yourself, I didn't send it.”

Despite my best efforts, heat flooded my cheeks. “That's not what I meant. You said you saw me get the note in class. You must've seen who threw it?”

Laz shook his head. “Sorry. I saw you reading it, that's all. It's probably from one of your many crushers. You have enough to start your own club.”

“You sound like Ewan,” I groaned.

All Laz's snark dried up. “Stay away from that guy.”

I threw my hands in the air. “First Morgan, now you. What's the deal with Ewan? Why does no one like him?”

Laz's gaze shifted. “It's complicated.” He moved toward our bags. “Come on, we're done for today.”

I hurried after him, shaking my head. “No. You have to do better than that. Is there something I should know about him? Is he dangerous?”

Laz slipped the strap of his bag over his shoulder. I yanked my torn backpack from the ground and followed him out the door.

Sighing, Laz turned to look at me as we descended the stairs. “He's a shifter heir.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, so?”

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