I purse my lips. “Thanks.” I grab the last enhancer I have, the milky stone Casey gave me.
“Try it.”
“Now?”
He gestures for me to get going.
I hold up my dagger and ease the white stone onto it. My stomach rolls with nerves.
“You’re holding it wrong. Not so flat, angle the cutting edge of the dagger up, just a bit.”
I tilt my wrist.
“That’s too much.” He’s close, so close. Warmth slinks down my neck. His fingertips brush my skin. Then he curls them gently around my wrist. He bends it a fraction, his thumb caressing the back of my hand. “Like this.” His voice is a gentle breeze, and it snatches my next breath.
I push away from him. “I have it from here. Really.” He hesitates a moment but, to my relief, moves to the door.
“The next time I knock, answer.” The door shuts behind him, and I collapse against the shut door with my blade, holding it at the angle Jordan told me, and the stone’s milky surface darkens, stretching before disappearing into the dagger. I bite away the smile forming at my lips. I still have so much to cram in before I’m ready for my exam.
The door handle jiggles, and I snatch the door back open. “I told you—”
“Quell?” It’s Abby, arms full of fabrics.
“Sorry, I thought you were Jordan.”
“I saw him just leaving.” She grins wickedly.
“Don’t even. I can’t stand him.”
“It doesn’t look that way.” Her brows jump as she comes inside. “When you talk about him, that is.”
“It’s complicated.”
“I’m listening.”
“I don’t know if I can trust him.”
Her lips twists in confusion.
“Because . . .” He hunts people like me. “He’s hard to read. I don’t know what he’s thinking. Not truly. Sometimes he seems to like being around me. Other times, I feel like a job to him. None of this makes sense.” I scrub a palm down my face. “Ignore me.” I laugh.
“Boys are not complicated. They’re like puppies.”
I snort. “With Jordan, it feels like he sees me in a way no one else does. But when I don’t match this picture he has of me in his head, he’s frustrated with me.”
“Do you want to match the picture in his head?”
Part of me wants to believe this person he sees in me is actually there. I try to picture myself controlling magic the way he does, having a position in a great magical House, belonging somewhere. But the other part of me is terrified that my worst suspicions of him could be true. That he could be working with Beaulah. Or that his interest in seeing me debut well is a cover for something sinister.
“I don’t know, Abby.”
“Well, in my professional boy-expert opinion, he’s into you. You just need to figure out if you care. Don’t get too attached, but if you want to have fun, have fun.” She nudges me with her elbow before dumping her load on the bed. “Word on the street is Draguns don’t really get involved romantically with anyone anyway.”
“Really?”
“The running joke is if the Order wanted them to have a partner, it would issue them one.”
A feeling I can’t quite put words to nudges me.