Page 61 of Faerie Gift

Guilt darkened my emotions to the point where I had to stop and take a breath when my chest felt too tight. Leaning against the wall, I let the cool stones leach the heat from my skin. In the past, I’d never done anything without preparation. Without thinking through alternate routes in advance even for the most innocent situations. Part of the curse of thinking too much. Now, winging it, I didn’t like the feeling of being unprepared.

Through the windows I could see the sky beginning to lighten. Nearing dawn. I should have been in bed hours ago.

Lost in a miasma of thoughts and guilt, I was nearly to the dormitory, dreaming about my bed and wondering if I’d be able to get any sleep at all. If so I’d probably have terrible nightmares reliving being caught, or reliving how I’d manipulated the most powerful Fae in the building.

What would Mike think about me if he knew the truth of what I’d done? He could never find out.

Another few steps and I’d be able to rest my head for at least thirty minutes. No way would I be able to make it through the day without sleep.

Sleep wasn’t in the cards for me. Neither was rest.

A blurred form rushed at me, arms locking around my midsection and sending me flying.

20

Icrashed into the wall, skull cracking against stone until stars burst in front of my eyes. They were bright spots in the darkness. Rising slowly on a groan, I held my hands up in front of me, showing the stranger I wasn’t a threat.

Fear coiled in my chest as a male figure stepped out of the darkness and shadow. Yellow eyes glowed in the dim light. Then he was on me. A snarl ripped from his mouth. My hackles rose.

“Do you have it? Give it to me!”

His voice exploded over me, hot breath on my ear and claws digging into the sensitive flesh at my sides.

Gritting my teeth, I tried to force the body aside, catching a brief glance of the attacker’s face in the process. High cheekbones, slanted eyes, slick brown hair. One of those second-year boys whom I’d caught trying to break into the exchange students’ rooms the other night.

Hehadnoted my scent.

Dammit. I should have been more careful.

“Go to hell,” I told him instead.

Normally I tried to take a peaceful approach. A resolution without resorting to violence. But he had jumped me without provocation and if things kept going, I’d have to damage him. I was no stranger to violence. I was good at it. With adrenaline filling me, I’d be in for the fight of my life no matter how I’d exhausted my magic.

“Give it to me!” he demanded again.

His growl drowned out my repeated response.

I rolled until my weight was on my shoulder blades, freeing up my legs to kick at whatever part of him was closest. It didn’t give me a lot of room to maneuver but it knocked me off balance. Claws tore through my skin and I howled, blood dripping from the wounds.

He moved with the energy of the kick and rolled up onto a crouch to stare at me. He stalked closer with an unnatural grace, sniffing the air. Standing over me as I struggled to get to my feet.

“Get up or I’ll make you get up.”

I wondered if I had the time to kick him in the face and run away. Probably not. So I bolted instead of attacking back, my sneakers fighting for traction in the hallway as I struggled to outdistance him. But with my power worn out, each step felt like wading through cement. I’d done too much, too close together, and left no energy for anything else.

My heart pounded hard, breath catching, and I’d made it halfway down the hall when the boy knocked me between the shoulders and sent me flying. I crashed against a wooden doorway under an arched alcove with him looking at me from several feet away.

I needed a plan. And of course all logic flew out of my head when our eyes caught and held.

“What do you want?” I asked. Keeping him in front of me at all times, adjusting my posture so we circled each other, with opposite ends of the hall stretching behind us.

He cocked his head, bloodlust riding him, and I had a feeling it didn’t matter what answer I received. He’d already made a decision on what to do about me. “Youknowwhat I want,” he stated.

My fingers twitched at my sides. “I’m sorry, I really don’t. Maybe you just enjoy trying to kill defenseless girls.”Keep him talking, I told myself.Keep him talking and maybe you can get him to spill. “Maybe you get a real kick out of taking down those you consider weaker than you.”

“You talk too much.”

“What’s the matter? Am I annoying you? Are you here to gut me for Kendrick?” I pressed.

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