Page 64 of Forbidden Magic
The pride in his voice melts my heart, even though I’m furious with him, even though I’m skirting the truth. Even though I fear I’m not as strong as I need to be.
Allie inches forward and rests her head on Dad’s shoulder. For the first time since she left for school, she looks exactly like the girl I knew.
The tears on her face prompts me to twine our fingers.
Dad wraps an arm around her. “Why are you crying, Peanut?”
“Sometimes, I wish things could go back to the way they used to be,” she says softly.
“What do you mean?” Dad asks.
“It’s just—Real life is next, you know. There’s no use pretending we can all go back to pajama Sundays and shelter ourselves from these immortals. Now, we have to fight for power.”
Dad backs away to meet Allie’s eyes. “Power?”
She raises her chin to look at him. “Isn’t that what Mom says? That power is better than promises.”
I hold my breath. Allie almost never mentions her mother to us. Piper McKinney is a leader for the opposing party, often making speeches on television about all the things Dad is doing wrong. I know they talk sometimes, but not often enough for Allie to forgive her. Unless something changed.
Dad twirls one of her curls around his finger. “Your mother is angry.”
“I know. It doesn’t mean she’s wrong about everything.” With that, Allie waves goodbye. The click of her doorknob resonates through the silent house.
Dad frowns. “Is your sister alright?”
The teenage instinct to stick up for her and ease Dad’s suspicions kicks in. Allie sold me out earlier, but I can’t do the same. I can’t give Dad another reason to keep us out of school. “Of course. You know her, she’s just upset that you had to intervene on my behalf. She hates that we don’t get to fend for ourselves.”
“She’s always been fiercely independent. I think you both get that from me,” Dad says, finally returning to his cooking.
I watch Allie’s closed door, wondering what it’s going to take for her to open up to me. “I’ll keep an eye out for her. I promise.”
25
Fractured
Summer Hall is different upon my return. The round room is half empty, Lydia’s bed stripped to the mattress. A thin film of dust on her desk twinkles under the sunlight that streams through the small rectangular windows. One drawer of her dresser is slightly open, and I peek inside to see if she forgot anything. The wood creaks when I pull it forward.
A piece of paper is stuck in the wedge between the front and lower panels, probably crammed there in a hurry given the wrinkled corners. I unfold the note.
I’m still thinking about our kiss.
Damn. Lydia has a secret boyfriend, too. The handwriting is unfamiliar, and I tuck the paper inside my planner.
I sneak out the back door to avoid the pixies.
Since I don’t want to chat with Cole or endure any of Flynn’s remarks, I show up for S&S at the last possible second.
By chance or the most fucked up fate, Cole had the same idea, and we come face to face in the main building’s stairwell.
I scan him up and down.
Aside from a slight burn on the back of his hand, he looks flawless. The crisp black undershirt molds his upper chest, his jacket nowhere to be found. A red tie hangs, undone, around his neck.
“You’re not as roughed up as they implied,” I say.
“Well, you’re not that powerful, are you?” His hand twitches, and he rolls his shoulders back, the movement deliberate if not a little forced.
Immediately, the change is glaring. Whether it’s the tightness of his jaw or the stiffness of his spine, this isn’t the Cole I’ve been studying with for the past few weeks. I wet my lips, choosing my words carefully. “I’m powerful enough that your mother accused me of assault.”
