Page 87 of Inception

“There’s a very unique bond between a Slayer and her Keeper,” he explained, his voice low. “She may have felt threatened by your arrival.”

“Okay,” I nodded. I could’ve accepted that. “Except that Trace left the Order months before I got here. He had no intention of being my Keeper, then or now, and she knew that.”

He considered it. “Then what do you think it stems from?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” The cool air pressed against my cheeks as a sinister feeling washed over me. “All I know is, I don’t trust her. Something about her gives me the creeps. And you know she’s a Caster, right?”

He nodded, unmoved.

“I still don’t know what that even means. Am I supposed to be scared of her? Can she actually hurt me? Half the time I’m sitting there wondering if she’s going to turn me into a freaking toad. It’s no way to live.”

His lips curved into a smile. “She can’t turn you into a toad,” he assured. “The amount of power needed to do something like that would probably kill her.”

“Well, she looks at me like she’s contemplating it.”

His grin deepened.

“So what exactlycanshe do?” I asked, turning serious.

“It depends, really, on her bloodline and how well she’s honed her Craft,” he said, his eyes scanning the area again. “Most Casters her age already have a fairly good grasp on controlling the elements and manipulating energy, though I wouldn’t put it to the test anytime soon. It’s best if you just try to avoid any conflict with her. Besides, you have more important things to concern yourself with.”

“Believe me, you’re preaching to the choir. I don’t want any more trouble than I already have. Problem is, trouble seems to find me even when I’m running away from it.”

“I’ve noticed,” he said grimly.

“Sometimes it feels like the more I wish for peace and quiet in my life, the more chaotic my life becomes.” I laughed a little though I didn’t feel it in my heart. “Guess I should probably stop wishing for that then, huh?”

He didn’t answer. Something in his weary eyes told me he’d given up on wishing a long time ago. Like he had seen and done too much to ever go back to that childlike state of wishing. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered if my own eyes would end up looking that way someday. If I, too, would outgrow my wishes. The thought of it depressed me.

“Look at us, this is supposed to be our night off and what are we doing? We’re talking shop.” I shook my head, disappointed.

“What would you rather we do?”

“I don’t know, anything but this,” I said as I scanned the area and spotted the Ferris wheel at the end of the boardwalk. “There! I want to go on that!” I pointed, desperate to salvage whatever was left of my night off. Of my youth.

“The Ferris wheel?” He faltered slightly.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared?” I goaded.

“Of course not.”

“Then come on!” I laughed, grabbing onto his lapel as I dragged him clear across the boardwalk.

We took our place at the end of the line and peered up at the massive roulette. Each of its carriages illuminated in bright neon colors, dangling weightlessly above us. My stomach bottomed out—in a good way—just looking up at it.

“Shoot, we need tickets to get on,” I realized as we progressed further into the line. I pointed at the admission sign beside the ride operator.

Gabriel glanced over his shoulder and then gestured behind us. “There’s a ticket booth right over there.”

“Hold on,” I said, grabbing his arm as he began to lead us out of the line. “One of us should hold our place.”

He looked back at the booth apprehensively as though it were miles away from where we were standing. “I’ll get the tickets,” he offered and then grimaced. “Stay where I can see you.”

I gave him a little salute and continued following the line, keeping a close watch on him as he crossed over to the Ticket Booth. He walked just the way you’d expect him to walk—controlled, determined, militant. There was nothing casual about it.

The line started to move again, quicker now, and within a couple of minutes, I found myself near the front of it. I looked back at Gabriel who was still stuck behind the same group of people since the last time I checked and decided to let the couple behind me pass. And then another one.

When I faced forward again, I noticed that the Ferris wheel operator (a young man with dark blond hair and a really bad complexion) wasn’t alone anymore. There was a man in a baseball cap and black coat standing with him, leaning forward with his back to us and whispering something privately. The tour operator looked up at him wide-eyed but otherwise expressionless and then nodded slowly. Something about it seemed...unnatural.

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