Page 11 of Calling Quarters

That only made me more suspicious of her. The Grangers were the biggest suspects for hiding Counters. It would be no surprise to me if they were protecting her once again.

I hated being in town when it was busy. It was nothing but a reminder of how these people—my coven—treated me like royalty when my power barely matched their own. They didn't know that, though, and it only made me feel even more deceptive. I was a fraud walking among them, taking praise and garnering respect for things I couldn't even do. But I swallowed my distaste and found myself standing in The Grind after spending an embarrassing amount of time waiting for her to show up.

“It could be argued that you’re stalking me at this point,” she called over her shoulder, not bothering to fully look back at me.

Her tone suggested she was irritated, but the paranoid way her eyes kept shifting in my direction gave her away. She was afraid that her words might be spot on, and I truly was stalking her.

Which wasn't exactly wrong.

“Don’t flatter yourself. You aren’tthatinteresting,” I lied with a sarcastic laugh that burned as it left my throat.

I hadn't laughed playfully like that in years. At least since I took over as Quarter at twenty-one. The sound was almost too foreign.

I glanced around us. No one in our immediate vicinity seemed to notice the conversation that was happening, which made me grateful she refused to look at me.

“I’m here for the coffee.”

“Okay,” she sarcastically sing-songed before stepping up to the counter to place her order.

Once I’d done the same, I walked over to the pick-up counter and stood a safe distance away from her. Again, I did a sweep to see if anyone was watching us before I began talking again.

“Are you busy right now?”

It was nearly impossible to speak through the pain of being so near to her. She appeared to be unaffected by this strange sensation. If she wasn’t my Counter, she was some other kind of threat placed in my way—there was no doubt about it. I just needed to get her alone.

“No thanks. I've seen enough murder documentaries to know better than to spend time alone with my stalker.”

The barista had heard the last part and sent a confusing glance my way as she handed out the drink. No one spoke to Quarters that way—even visitors. Mystery girl took the cup and walked right out the door. Once mine was ready, I followed her, carefully keeping my distance so we didn't draw any more attention.

“You're well aware that I'm not stalking you. It's practically my duty to show a newcomer around. Especially a legacy of the coven,” I bluffed.

I was one of the last people who would ever be found responsible for showing a tourist around, but she wouldn't know that. If she were as ignorant to her past as I've heard, she shouldn't know anything about how Watchtower is run.

She abruptly stopped walking and finally faced me as I nearly stumbled into her. From this close, I could see that her owlish eyes were the oddest shade I'd ever seen. Endless dark purple seas with black specks floating inside them—I say floating because it's almost as if the longer I stared, the more they seemed to be slowly circling around her irises.

“I don't need to be shown around by the welcoming committee. In fact, I'd like it if everyone just ignored that my family was born here and treated me like a regular old tourist instead. You don't seem to bother them at all.”

“You're incredibly stubborn.”

I didn't mean to say it out loud. I'd grown too used to keeping my distance from people, and I was far removed from proper etiquette. But I didn't regret saying it as her cheeks reddened, and her eyes flashed with anger.

“And you don't seem to take a hint.”

Once again, she gave me her back and walked in the opposite direction I'd come from. I couldn't let her get away, though. I'd come here to find out more about her, and I couldn't give up. Not when mine and my brother's lives were at risk.

“You want to know more about your family, right? About Watchtower?”

I was grasping at straws, blindly casting my reel and hoping to catch her attention in any way. I didn't even know who her family was. As far as I was aware, no one with the name Graves had lived here for years. The original bloodline was severed long before I came into the picture. But I knew enough about Beacon Grove's history to fake it.

Her feet stopped on the pavement.Finally.

“You have questions, I have answers.”

“Fine. But you have to agree to answer any question I have.”

Chapter 8

Storie

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