Page 55 of Forbidden Magic
“You attacked us,” I seethe.
Cole’s mother holds up one terribly intimidating finger. “Shush.”
Jessa brings a hypocritic hand to her breast and opens her mouth like I said the most shocking lie. “Attack? It was just a hazing ritual. All in good fun.”
I want to punch the fake-ass innocence from her face.
“Alright. I see what we’re dealing with here. You can go, Jessa.”
My enemy skips out with a satisfied grin.
Celeste continues the staring contest until I blink. “Here, at Dark Falls, we don’t punch other ladies in the face.” There’s something quiet about her scolding voice that chills me to the bone. “Do you understand?”
I nod and grip the arms of my chair, scared to open my mouth and say something that’ll get me expelled.
“Now, I know you witches don’t have a lot of time to learn the ways of the world, but if you expect to stay in my school, you won’t pull a stunt like that again.” The condescension slices through me.
I bite the insides of my cheeks hard.
She flicks me away with her hand. “That’s all.”
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I say, curious to see more before I go, still undecided if I should return later and meet Cole like he asked.
If Celeste caught me with her son, that’d be awkward. Or it’d be amazing to see the horror on her face… But I also remember Cole’s promise that we’d be alone.
She clicks her tongue. “Upstairs. First door of the right.”
The ground floor is a Home and Garden darling. Ceramic, quartz and porcelain. Not at all what I expected a Fae house to be, but it’s also sterile. Cold. I rub the chill off my arms and head out toward the main entrance, crossing the kitchen and the living room. A staircase stands right out front, and I climb it quietly, the plush carpet squishing under my flats.
A door is ajar on my left, and I risk a glance through the crack. Cole’s school bag is hanging from a chair in front of a cluttered desk.
The hinges screech as I push the door open wider.
A white, embedded fireplace casts an orange glow over his king-sized bed. Gold lines made to look like roots are etched into the headboard. The sheets are hidden by a stark red duvet with black stitching. A lavish fur from a Fairy tiger is sprawled at the base. The white, blue and black hairs are soft under my touch, but my heart breaks for the tiger. Hunting animals for sport must be big in Fairy.
A piece of parchment is pinned on a board over the desk, and the names immediately catch my eye. Julia Winslow. Allie Winslow. Lydia Hawks. Olson Lewis. Holly’s name is crossed out in black, my name is circled, and an interrogation mark stands after Allie’s. My nose wrinkles.
Why would Cole keep a list of the mortal students above his desk?
A pot of ink stands next to a glass of muddied water, and a piece of paper sticks out of a book in his opened bag. I push aside the cover to take a peak, and the drawing inside knocks the wind out of me.
Runes are written along the woman’s bare back, her dark hair falling over her shoulder.
Cole tried to recreate what he saw in the library and scribbled notes in the margins. That or he’s the one who put them on me in the first place, but that seems like a big leap.
Fae alphabet runs across the page at the bottom. I snap a picture with my phone so I can translate them later and find out if that prince is making a fool out of me or not.
The stairs creak loudly. I whiz out of the room, cross to the bathroom and close the door behind me. Sweat gathers on my forehead, the porcelain sink cold against my hands. I press on the flush to keep up appearances in case the footsteps I heard were Cole’s and wash my hands, drying them with a hand towel that is disgustingly soft and expensive.
When I come out, the hallway is empty and Cole’s door is still ajar. I hurry down the stairs and into the cool air of the sunny December afternoon.
Cole was certainly not upstairs because he’s here, at the foot of the hill on which his house is perched.
He’s got one arm wrapped around Krystel’s shoulder, holding her close to him, whispering in her ear the way he does with every damn girl. The pixie giggles as they separate, and he climbs up the trail to his house.
I can’t avoid him, so I roll my shoulders back and continue walking.
The mischievous smile falls from his face. “Sabrina… we said seven.”
