by Syrie James
Alec sighed, his expression grim. “I am worried about that. But no matter how many times I go over it, I can’t just ignore a major threat.”
“You can’t, or you won’t?”
“If something of this magnitude happens again, I don’t think I can let it go down any differently.”
Claire stood up so fast, her chair clattered to the ground. “Well at least you’re honest about that,” she retorted angrily. “It’s nice to know where I stand. Where we stand. You expect me not to use my new gift unless it’s a matter of life or death. But you can jump into danger anytime you see fit.”
Alec rose, heaving a deep sigh. “We’re talking about two very different things, Claire. Can’t you see that?”
“No, what I see is you saying you can do what you think is right, but I can’t. And that’s just bullshit.” Tears spilled from her eyes. Wiping them away, she added, “Do you have any idea how much effort I went to, to make this a perfect evening?”
“I do. I’m so sorry, Claire. This is the last thing I wanted to happen.” He started toward her as if he wanted to comfort her, but she backed away.
“Sorry for what? That my dinner was a disaster? Or that we’ve been sitting here arguing for half the night?”
“Both.”
She studied him, noticing that his eyes weren’t bloodshot anymore, and the visible cuts on his forehead, arms, and knees had almost healed. “Well, I’m done talking. I think you should just go.”
Alec looked at her with a wounded expression, a pain deeper than Claire had ever seen before. He stood up wordlessly, arranging the remains of the bedraggled flowers in the vase with an unnecessary amount of care, before heading for the door. Pausing at the threshold, he turned back, his voice merely a whisper:
“Happy Valentine’s Day.”
And then he was gone.
Claire’s heart felt like it had dropped out of her chest. She sank down at the table again, dabbing at her tears with a napkin, her attention falling on the flowers in the vase. Even though only a smattering of pink petals remained, she realized what they were.
Peonies.
twenty-eight
The next week was rough. Alec’s Mustang was repairable, but it would be out of commission for at least a month. In the meantime he bought a second-hand bike to get around, since using a ride-hailing service would easily allow the Fallen to track his movements.
It seemed to work. No one else had come after him following the fight. Yet. Were Javed and Rico nursing their wounds? Had Malcolm decided to back off for the moment? Alec had no idea, but it was a relief to have a reprieve.
Life at school, on the other hand, was not as rosy.
Things were so strained between Alec and Claire, they barely spoke. They didn’t train, they didn’t talk in class, they didn’t even meet for lunch. Most of Claire’s books were missing from their locker. It appeared that she was living out of her backpack. An obvious attempt to avoid him.
Rehearsals were a misery. Claire made a point of sitting on the opposite side of the theater from him when she wasn’t onstage. During their scenes together, she remained in character the entire time, with none of the fun asides they used to share. But far worse, Alec had to sit and watch while Claire and Neil practiced their romantic scenes together. Claire was doing a pretty convincing job, staring into Neil’s pretty eyes with pining devotion.
On Thursday, they were rehearsing the scene that included the song “I Loved You Once in Silence.” Claire, as Guinevere, was sitting in the partially completed set for the queen’s bedchamber, brushing her hair. Neil, as Lancelot, entered quietly and paused a few feet away from her. In a hushed, tremulous voice, he said, “Jenny … ?”
Claire/Guinevere rose and looked at him in astonishment. He crossed to her, softly explaining that he’d seen her light in the window. He knew she was alone. He had tried to stay away, but he couldn’t. And then, in a moment Alec bore with gritted teeth, Neil swept Claire into his arms and held her tight.
“Wait, wait, hold on a second,” interrupted Ms. Donnelly.
Neil and Claire separated almost immediately, glancing at the director, who stood on the edge of the stage.
“Up to now, we’ve been treating this more or less as a chaste moment, but it’s not working,” Ms. Donnelly went on. “Lancelot and Guinevere have built up all these secret, passionate feelings for each other. They’re deeply in love. They’re about to admit it in song, and he’s going to start a war over her. This is our only opportunity to see that passion. So I’d like to try adding a kiss.”
Alec froze. He’d been so certain this wasn’t going to be required. Even though he was sitting several yards away, Alec caught Claire blushing.
Neil’s expression was definitely awkward. “Doesn’t that violate Lancelot’s code of honor?”
“So does their whole forbidden-love thing,” replied Ms. Donnelly. “I think this is important. Let’s try it.”
“Do you want me to kiss him, or him to kiss me?” Claire asked uncertainly.
“How about if you both just go for it?” Ms. Donnelly suggested. “Let’s back up a few lines to ramp into it.”
Alec watched, his stomach knotting, as Claire and Neil each took a breath, went back to their former positions, and repeated the earlier dialogue. This time, their embrace became visibly more desperate. They pulled apart slightly, looking at each other hesitantly, as if trying to figure out how to arrange their faces. Then, in unison, their lips met in a firm but brief kiss.
When they separated again, the expression in their eyes held so much feeling and emotion, Alec felt like he’d been kicked in the balls.
“Okay, that’ll do for now.” Ms. Donnelly smiled. “I think it’s going to work. And we have almost three weeks to get it right.”
The rest of the scene, where Guinevere and Lancelot plaintively sang about their love for each other, was equally torturous to watch. Alec felt hot waves of anger racing through him. Or was it jealousy? He hated to think that he would stoop to such a low feeling. All he knew was that he wanted to strangle Neil. He had to grip the armrests on his seat to keep himself from leaping onto the stage. Why was he feeling this so strongly? It was just a school play, after all. They were just acting. Weren’t they?
A sudden thought occurred to Alec. He’d been irritable all week, unusually so. He’d attributed it to the situation with Claire. However, he couldn’t help wondering if the strength of his irritation was partly due to the residual effects of—or withdrawal from—the Turbo he’d taken.
What a mess he’d gotten himself into.
twenty-nine
The beat of the music throbbed in Claire’s ears as she folded up her wet umbrella and stuck it in the bucket in Erica’s marble-floored foyer. A clothes rack held tons of raincoats and parkas. Claire shrugged out of her own coat, hung it up with the others, and moved past the grand, sweeping staircase into Erica’s living room.
The room was crowded with partygoers, there to celebrate Erica’s birthday, the February rain forcing everyone to stay indoors. Erica’s parents stood to one side, looking fairly vigilant in their role as chaperones. Claire hadn’t been to many parties since she’d started high school, but from what she could glean, this was going to be a relatively tame affair.
Claire recognized people from the cast of Camelot, along with kids from the popular clique at school. They were all wearing something in tribute to Erica’s obligatory necktie theme: everything from simple ties, suits, and tuxedos, to sexy maid and cat outfits with collars.
Happy Birthday banners (each letter printed on a colorful cardboard necktie) were strung from beams overhead, along with black-and-white balloons imprinted with tuxedos. A guy in a clown tie behind the bar was dispensing soft drinks. In the adjoining dining room, Claire caught a glimpse of Brian and Kayla standing cozily together beside a long table laden with finger foods.
&
nbsp; Claire straightened the red satin bow tie she’d bought to wear with her white top and jeans, hoping it looked all right. It was so weird to be here without Alec. Every time she thought about him, though, her chest got tight with anger. They’d spent all week avoiding each other. She’d kept hoping he would change his mind, call her and admit that she was right, that he would give up his dangerous obsession. But that hadn’t happened. Maybe it never would.
He’d said he loved her. Despite everything that was happening, she still loved him, so much. So shouldn’t he put them first? No, he was sticking to some stupid ideal, some need to be a hero. Not only that, but now, he seemed to be just as mad at her as she was at him. Was it just because she’d practiced her new power a few times? Or was it because of what happened at rehearsals last week?
When Ms. Donnelly added that kiss, it was one of the most awkward moments of Claire’s life. It had gotten easier every time after that, but they were just stage kisses. They didn’t mean anything. Whenever they rehearsed that scene, though, Alec looked like he was ready to start World War III.
It was so ridiculous. She and Alec had all but broken up, so he had no right to be jealous. She and Neil weren’t even friends anymore. Although deep down, Claire had to admit, she wished that she and Neil could be friends again. It would make things so much easier—and not just at rehearsals. As she looked around the room, she wished she had any friends right now.
“Claire!” Gabrielle Miller emerged from the crowd and pranced up to Claire. She was dressed in a sexy schoolgirl uniform, with the world’s shortest plaid skirt, a matching necktie, a midriff-baring white blouse, knee-high stockings, and high-heeled shoes. “I love your bow tie!”
“Thanks. Your outfit is … really something.” Claire managed a small smile.
“I found it online. The top is way smaller than advertised, I’m lucky I could get into it. Hey! I’ve been meaning to ask: aren’t you the one who found my sweater and gave it to Jason Tate?”
“Yeah.”
“It must have been fate that you asked him to deliver it. He ended up asking me out. We’ve been dating ever since, and it’s been totally awesome.”
“I’m so glad.” This time, the smile Claire gave Gabrielle was genuine.
“Speak of the devil!” Gabrielle glowed as she turned toward the foyer, which Jason had just entered. “Have fun, Claire.” She darted off and threw her arms around Jason, kissing him soundly.
Claire sighed. Even though she no longer had a love life, she was happy things were working out for someone.
She spied Erica a few yards away, laughing with two girls Claire had never met. Erica’s outfit was so Erica: a 1920s-era black-and-white-striped gangster’s pantsuit, matching necktie, and platform heels. A black fedora was perched atop her sleek red hair, and she wore bright red lipstick.
Gazing at Erica, Claire felt a stab of sadness. More than anything, Claire realized, she longed to win back Erica’s friendship. But how? Shouldn’t a relationship as close as theirs had been be able to rise above the thing that had happened with the play? She’d tried to mend fences by apologizing and baring her soul, but that had only made things worse.
Then again, when Erica was lonely on Valentine’s Day, she’d called and shared her problems. Maybe Erica did still care, deep down. Maybe their timing had just been off.
Claire’s eyes connected with Erica’s, and Erica briefly smiled, excused herself from the other girls, and came over.
“Hey, Claire! You look cute.” Her tone was a little flat.
“So do you,” Claire responded. “Great outfit. And happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
They exchanged a brief hug that Claire felt was more compulsory than heartfelt on Erica’s part.
“Where’s Alec?” Erica asked.
“We … came separately.”
“Oh. Well, I’m glad you’re here. It’s nice to see you.”
“Ditto.” Claire figured she’d better grab this opportunity while she could. “Hey, can we talk for a minute? Alone?”
“Alone? Are you kidding? This is my party.”
“I know. But ever since you called me, I’ve needed to say something. It’s important.”
Erica sighed. “Everything with you is important. I guess we can go to the gym. But I shouldn’t be gone for more than five minutes, okay?”
“Okay.”
Erica waved and smiled at people as she led the way out of the living room and down a hall into a room filled with exercise equipment. Erica stopped beside a treadmill and crossed her arms. “So, what’s up?”
Claire took a deep breath. “Well. I feel bad because it’s been so long since we really talked. And we used to be such good friends. Something happened to change that, I don’t really understand what, but … if it’s because of the play, or something else I did or said, I’m sorry. Really sorry. And I’m hoping we can fix it. Because I miss you.”
Erica chewed on her lip, drawing an imaginary circle on the polished hardwood floor with her toe. Finally, she blew out a long breath. “I miss you too, but … things are different for me now. I have these new friends who don’t mesh with you guys. They don’t totally get me, but it’s still easier to be around them, even if things never get too deep. I mean, I loved hanging out with you and Brian and Alec. But that kinda changed when you and Alec started dating. And now that Brian is dating Kayla, I can barely look him in the face anymore. Then the play happened. It’s hard for me to be around you because it just makes me remember that I lost out on something so big, something I dreamed of for so long … I know that sounds lame and superselfish. But I can’t help it.”
“I get it.” Claire kept her comment short so Erica could vent. It was the most she’d heard her friend say to her in months.
“Plus. It got to the point where I just couldn’t take all your paranormal, life-and-death angel stuff anymore. I just want to be a normal teenager while I can, and being around you … to be honest, it’s kind of exhausting.”
Claire nodded. “I get that, too.”
“And that time after rehearsal, when you dropped all that stuff on me out of the blue about being kidnapped by the Fallen and a new mind-control power—I’m sorry, but it was too much, I needed to tune out.” Erica looked at her. “Is that really true? You can brainwash people now?”
“I shouldn’t have said brainwash. That makes it sound really sinister. It’s more like … suggesting.” Claire felt her cheeks grow warm as she added, almost apologetically, “But if I focus, I can sometimes get people to do what I want.”
“Good God. That is brainwashing, Claire.”
“No, it’s not. Really. Think of it like … like a Jedi mind trick, that I only use for good. Like I gave Jason the guts to ask Gabby out! I convinced Señora Gutierrez to make time to start exercising. I even got Dr. Grant to up the funding for our new costumes!”
Erica’s jaw dropped. “That’s why we got the costume funding? It was you?”
Claire shrugged, her blush deepening. “Yeah. Isn’t it awesome? The knights get to wear real armor! And the girls’ costumes are so …” She stopped, noticing that Erica wasn’t thrilled like she’d hoped.
“That’s really creepy, Claire.”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you even listening to yourself?” Erica’s eyes crinkled with disgust. “You can get people to do what you want? That is unethical on so many levels.”
Claire sighed. “Now you sound just like Alec.”
“Well, maybe you should listen to him.” Erica paused. “Wait, is that why you came separately tonight? Something’s been off between you two at rehearsal.”
“We haven’t exactly been speaking since Valentine’s Day.”
“Why not? Is he mad about this brainwashing thing?”
“It’s not just that. Alec’s been playing superhero again lately aga
inst the Fallen, and he refuses to back off, even though it almost got him killed. We had this big argument, and—it didn’t go well.”
“Shit.” Erica’s face softened into an expression of concern that Claire hadn’t seen in a long time. It was like having a best friend again, if only for the briefest of seconds.
Before she could elaborate further, though, Courtney dashed into the room, screeching, “Erica! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You promised to be my partner in pool, come on!”
As she was tugged out of the room by the arm, Erica shot back at Claire, “To be continued?”
Claire nodded, struggling to hold back another sigh. Just as she was getting somewhere with Erica, Courtney had to come in and ruin it all. Would she ever get another chance to make things right?
Just then, there was the sound of a toilet flushing. Claire started in surprise as a door inside the room opened … and Neil walked out.
The look on Neil’s face made it clear that he had overheard everything.
thirty
Alec stared at the kids around him.
It was the first time he’d been at a bash like this as a legitimate participant. In his past life, he’d always been in disguise, searching for his latest mark. Of course, he could argue, he was in disguise now as well, doing his best to pose as a human teen.
Certainly a good excuse for why he was feeling so awkward and angsty. The taxi ride he’d taken there—with arguably the worst driver in the world—hadn’t helped him arrive in a calm state of mind, either.
As he wandered from the living room into the dining room, he didn’t spot Claire and wondered where she was. The thrift-store paisley tie he wore over his T-shirt chafed at his neck. Trying to blend in, he picked up a plate and helped himself to a slice of necktie-shaped minipizza and some bowtie pasta salad. He chewed, searching for a friendly face among the crowd. Sure, he knew almost everyone by name, but he didn’t have any relationships beyond Claire’s small circle. And that had pretty much disintegrated.