Page 78 of Angel Lost

Zephyr’s expression is one of wry amusement. Hewie, however, is terrified. His face is a horrid blank, a telltale bloom of liquid on his trousers.

Camille pulls herself together with the rapidity only a cold-blooded lizard can. “She’s a danger!” she shouts to the crowd of onlookers, a slight waver in her voice.

“Did you see what she did? She tore open the very founds of reality.”

Er. No. “I bent it.”

“She tore it open, rent it open. Just like a rip.” The atmosphere changes. Students look uncomfortable, they lean toward Camille. “Thisaetheris unstable. She has no control. This was a prank to her, and yet she could cause rips right through to the demonic realm.”

“That’s ridiculous! It’s nothing like the same,” I protest, as Hewie shakes.

He looks up, face streaked with tears. He lets out a loud, agonized shriek. “I believed in you, Lorelei!”

My heart squeezes. There’s anger building among the students.

I try to protest. “It doesn’t work like that.”

There’s a tug on my sleeve. My gray sleeve. My Gifted robes. Idiot. Why didn’t I change?

“You’re protesting too much,” Jess hisses. “You sound guilty.”

The crowd is moving, wound up by Camille, by the media terror of rips that’s been playing on TV on repeat. They storm toward us.

Jess tugs on my arm again. “Let’s go, now.”

Zephyr places a hand on my shoulder, steering me away from the crowd. My insides twist. These are not my fellow students. Not right now. Right now, they’re a mob, and I’m the witch they want to burn at the stake.

We turn tail and run.

Chapter Twenty-six: Lorelei

The smell of leather welcomes us to the blessed quiet of the library. A student swerves to avoid our path, and I hunch my shoulders. Chano snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me into him.

“It’ll be fine, chica,” he says into my ear, brushing a stray strand of hair off my neck. “You don’t even need to meet them now. We can do this later, tomorrow.”

My heart melts a little. He’s got his sister to worry about and here he is, supporting me.

Camille wants nothing to do with an apology, but Hewie and Zephyr are both in the library’s snug when I push open the door. First Zephyr and Hewie. Then Farrell.

Zephyr lounges on a giant beanbag, feet kicked up, head lolled back, staring at the ceiling. He glances at me briefly before returning to contemplating the gargoyle-studded picture rail. My gaze meets Hewie’s for a second before he moves to put Zephyr between us. Hewie perches in a small nook surrounded by piles of books, drumming on his knee.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt before Chano’s even fully in the room behind me.

The angelic glow around Zephyr flares, then settles. Beyond that he gives no indication he’s heard. I perch on the velvet armchair directly in front of them, but Hewie stands, pacing farther away.

“I didn’t mean to catch you up in that, either of you. But it wasn’t dangerous. No matter how it felt.”

It felt so bad Hewie pissedhimself.

“I was being a bitch,” I admit. “I meant to capture Camille, give her a fright because she hit Jess.”

Hewie swallows. “Lorelei, I thought I was going to die. I couldn’t tell which way was up.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” I spread my hands wide. “The pocket I made was so small and the sides so steep, you all got jumbled up.”

Zephyr’s gaze comes to rest on my face.

“I swear the most dangerous thing was being that close to Camille.”

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