Page 31 of Insolence
“We did get caught! Sadrie saw us.”
“That’swhat this is about? But we can trust her! Actually, I think she might be like us.”
“Listen to me very carefully.” The high priestess closes the distance between us, her mask a distant memory by now. She grabs me by the shoulders, squeezing until pain splinters to my fingertips. Her eyes rake me in a way that teeters on violence, her voice coming low and ruthless: “This ends now, between us. If the sisters were to find out about any misconduct,especiallybetween acolyte and priestess, there would be hell to pay.Punishment. I cannot impress upon you how severe.”
That word again. My thoughts immediately flash to yesterday. I can’t help it; not after that pheromone confession. I’m helpless while my mind skips back to her pinning me in the fissure, giving that cocky, dark chuckle that sets me alight. Something insidious cracks awake within the very abyss of me.
Her nose is twitching before I realize what’s happening.
Oops…
“Notthatkind of punishment,” she snarls, giving me a quick shake that rankles every follicle on my body. “We aren’t discussing this again. Do you understand me?”
“Sure, I understand.” I flap my arms, shucking her off.I understand you’re a cagey, insufferable bitch when you want to be.
“I need to go. I’m late meeting my apprentice.”
I stop straightening my clothes and hair to stare at her. I’ve only seen one person who meets that description since I’ve been at the temple. And somehow, during today’s class, I assumed the feisty redhead was apprenticed to theFirstHigh Priestess.
“Ghisele is your apprentice?”
Elodie glances skyward as if imploring Eisha herself.
“Oh, for gods’ sakes. Are youserious?” My voice goes shrill.
“Yes! What of it?” For the first time since we came in here, anger—true, exasperated anger—transforms her features. Her brow bunches over narrowed slits for eyes, and her voice drops, reaching a deeper, richer register: “Like I said already, I’m notgoing tofuckyou, Itissa.” She barks the expletive so hard, I flinch. “If that’s what you’re after, I suggest making your peace with reality because it’s never going to happen. Now. I’ve been patient after you cornered me when I clearly didn’t want to talk. Do us both a favor going forward, respect my boundaries, and stayoffmy dick.” She yanks the door open, letting it slam behind her with a greatwhooshof air.
Fire explodes beneath my feet, enveloping my entire body. My heart pounds so hard I feel sick.
I want to scream. I want to collapse into a heap and cry my eyes out until sleep overtakes me.How can I hate her and want her so much at once?
It’s as if I’m possessed, consumed by a force I don’t understand. These powerful urges are a mystery. I couldn’t explain the contrivances of my wild mind if I tried.
I’m in the throes of an absolute tizzy by the time I track my friends down in the atrium, my hands crammed with bread and cheese, a soft persimmon, and a single-serving steak pie with utensils.
I hear the finches’ happy chatter before I see them. The birds flit freely around the ground floor atrium, splashing in the tiered fountain and bickering over their feeding platforms. More finches flutter in and out of the potted trees, hopping from branch to branch and chirping uproariously.
An impressive glass and iron dome rises high overhead, allowing them plenty of natural light and space to stretch their wings. Their frolicking usually brings me a smile, but today I’mnumb to their exploits and a little resentful that they’re probably quite happy withtheirpheromone situation.
Do birds even have pheromones?
Sadrie and Cordelia are sitting on a pair of benches by the fountain when I find them. I plop down next to Cordelia, disturbing the finches she’s tossing her leftover crumbs to. They dart away, hurling affronted shrieks at my intrusion.
“Took you long enough. Did something happen?” Cordelia eyes me up and down. “Perhapssomeone, from the looks of it?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mutter, cramming bread and cheese into my mouth.
“Well, that’s a ‘yes,’” says Sadrie. She lifts the book lying open over her knee, amusement ghosting over her features.
Cordelia clears her throat. “As soon as you’re finished stuffing your face and throwing a fit—”
“I’mnotthrowing a fit,” I sneer, chewing loudly, even though I know that I absolutely am.
Sadrie licks a fingertip and turns a page, pure glee dancing in her eyes.
“All right,” sighs Cordelia. “When you’re finished stuffing your face andnotthrowing a fit, she wants to drag us along on a quick adventure.”
“What adventure?” I blow on a steaming forkful of steak pie.
