Alice looks me up and down. “Wow, are they blind? You’re top shelf right now.”
86
FHREAGAIR
She’s just soinfuriating. Tendrils of my power spin from me as I pace in the forest, the trees they touch splintering and turning to dust. Do I like her dress? Of fucking course, I like her dress. I have eyes. I saw how her boy angel lit up at the sight of her. Undoubtedly, he earned himself another golden feather from how his skin glowed.
Another volley of my power flies off me, taking out more of the forest.
Why is she so fucking stubborn? Every time I think I can predict her next move, that I can move past this obsession?—
I tense, the sensation of being watched sliding over me like cold oil. How had someone slipped past my shield? And they got close.
“If you’re prepared to fight, I’m more than up for the challenge,” I call to the watcher.
A ghostly laugh echoes back to me.
My runic circles glow under my palms. Complex and layered concentric circles, their power pulls and organizes the runes littered over my body, readying them to be armed, fired, and combined into more complex spells. The more intense andcomplicated the magic, the more circles it requires. Most beings capable of creating runes are able to produce base, utilitarian runic circles. Mine are intricate works of art, much more than just a tool or collection of pretty symbols. They drip with my concentrated power, one glowing white and the other black. They are the measure of someone at the top of their craft.
I send tendrils of power out, dark and insidious, uneasy that I can’t sense this being. The fog shifts, and I hold up a hand, throwing a spell in that direction. I wait to hear it land, but there is nothing.
“Are you the one watching her?” I call again, searching the concealing mist.
I hurl another bolt of power. It hits a tree, and I watch as it turns to dust.
A chuckle reverberates in the air, pressing in on me from all sides. I turn slowly, trying to find the source.
“Us? Watching?” it calls.
“The one who’s marked her. She bears the Mark of Nimue.” I search the trees, trying to penetrate the darkness. Who or what is evading my detection? It should not be possible. A handful of beings can challenge me in strength, and only one that I know supersedes me, but this isn’t him.
“You watch her too. We have seen,” the voice mocks.
“Why her?” I ask, grinding my teeth.
The laugh comes again, this time surrounding me. Throwing both palms up, I unleash, letting my power fly in every direction. The runes vanish from my skin as they are spent to fill the runic circles. My ragged breaths fog the air in front of my face. How much power had I just burned through?
“All that power,” the voice whispers right next to my ear, “and you’re still just astranger.”
I roar into the night.
87
Summer
Iclimb into Connor’s bed, slipping under the covers and relaxing back against his pillow. Connor strips off, pulling on pajama pants before crawling in next to me. He opens his arms, and I move into them, wrapping myself around him.
“Talk to me,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
My brows furrow, and I look up at him. “About what?”
“You’ve been distant all night, babe.”
I think back to the party. Was I being distant with him? We danced and kissed and touched. My mind wandered more than a few times, but there’s no way he could have caught that. Right? There’s no way he could have seen behind my false smile, the one I have perfected over the years.
The Almighty’s words echo in my mind. “You will find more than peace, my child. You will find happiness. Joy. Belonging.” But maybe what I should have asked is if, when I found it, it would be enough.
“It’s just stress, Con. I’ll be okay tomorrow.”