Page 4 of Creatures of Chaos

The door bangs open, and I bolt into a stall, slamming and locking the door behind me. I hold my breath as the clicks of heels on the stone floor gets closer.

Please don’t be Jules again,I silently plead.I’ve had enough of that hag today.

“Locklyn? Where are you?”

The air rushes from my lungs in relief. Ensley. Of course. Becks wouldn’t have let anyone in the bathroom with me other than his fae twin sister.

“Over here,” I say, but don’t leave the stall. Now that I know what I look like, I don’t really want anyone else to see me like this.

She walks over, stopping on the other side of the metal door. “Are you going to come out?” she asks when I don’t immediately emerge.

“I’d rather not.”

“Why?” I can hear her tapping her foot and imagine she’s standing impatiently on the other side of the door with her arms crossed.

“Let’s just say I’m not that pretty right now,” I say, thinking of the bruises and blood.

She chuckles. “I beg to differ. You’re adorable.”

I scrunch my nose. No seventeen-year-old girl wants to be referred to as adorable. Adorable is what you call stuffed animals or kittens, not a datable female.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” I say grumpily.

“I know,” she says with another chuckle. “But will you please just come on out so I can get a look at the damage?”

Oh great, Becks already told her.

Unlocking the stall door, I let it swing open. Ensley’s large green eyes bulge when she sees me. She stops tapping her studded high heeled boot and just stares. Unlike me, she’s perfectly put together. Her waist-length blonde hair hangs loose and long down her back, streaked with glamoured purple highlights today. The off-the-shoulder graphic tee she’s wearing under her cropped black leather jacket is as white as it was thismorning, and her rocker chic jeans are only purposefully ripped in all the right spots. I, on the other hand, look like I need to be taken outside and hosed off.

“What happened?” she asks as I stride past her toward the sink.

I cup my hands under a stream of cool water and splash my face rather than answer her. A paper towel appears next to me, and I mumble thanks as I blot my face dry, wiping the smear of blood off my chin then dabbing my busted lip. When I’m done, I toss the soiled towel in the trash and look at myself in the mirror again. It’s better, but not much.

“Okay, spill. Who was it this time?” Ensley asks as she watches me. “Leo and his cronies?”

When I don’t answer her, she goes back to guessing.

“Lilith and her wannabe flower power group?” she says, naming one of the fae cliques I’ve had a run-in with a time or two before. I still don’t react.

“Jules and her brainwashed followers?”

My gaze shifts to hers in the mirror and she sighs.

“Just please don’t tell Becks who it was,” I whisper so that he won’t be able to hear me if he’s still outside.

She presses her lips together in a firm line but nods her agreement. We both know how Becks can get. It’s not that we’re protecting Jules. It’s that we’re looking out for Becks. Ever since he was named dragon heir last year he’s been under a microscope by not only their parents, but the whole dragon council as well.

He doesn’t open up about it much but living up to their expectations as the future House of Dragon heir weighs heavily on him. He’s not allowed to be a teenager like the rest of us because he’s destined for so much more.

Turning me toward her, Ensley pinches my chin between her fingers and turns my face back and forth, checking out my fatlip and bruised cheekbone. She lets out a low whistle and then releases me. “They sure did do a number on you this time.”

A fresh wave of anger against Jules and her friends rolls through me. I snatch a paper towel from the dispenser, wet it, and start scrubbing the dried blood from my hairline that I missed before. When I’m done, my face is blood-free, but the bruising and swelling is all the more obvious.

“Come here,” she says, wiggling her fingers. “I can at least help you get through the rest of the day.” White fae magic glows from her hands as she prepares to glamour some of my face so my injuries aren’t as obvious.

“Yes, please,” I say with a clap, smiling broadly, but then wince when the movement makes the cut on my lip split open and start oozing again.

Ensley waits for me to dab the drops away, then places her hands on either side of my face, an inch away from my skin. The light emanating from them brightens and I close my eyes, enjoying the warmth coming from her palms as she weaves her magic.

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