A flare of anticipation streaks through my chest as I nod. His smile takes my breath away, and I fight to refill my lungs. I have no real personal experience with romance and love, but something inside me knows this thing I have going with Asher is special.
I’ve spent my whole life watching my parents—how they interact with each other, the give and the take, the disagreements and the compromises. The simple touches and meaningful gazes.
I know what love looks like. I know what it feels to be in the presence of two people who would figuratively and literally die if they weren’t together.
The Fae mate for life. Once bonded, they will fade away if kept from their mate for too long. The only thing that can break the bond is the death of one of the spouses. My parents knew they were meant for each other, and married at a young age, promising to spend the next several centuries together.
It’s the real deal, and having witnessed it firsthand, I want nothing less for myself. I don’t want to spend the rest of my long life stuck with someone I don’t love to distraction, someone who doesn’t cherish me above all else.
And the way I feel with Asher York? It gives me a spark of hope that, maybe someday, I could have what my parents have. Someday, I could have it all.
That is, if things here at Oberon Reformatory don’t go horribly, terribly wrong.
Chapter Fourteen
“So what were you and Asher doing inside the privacy box?”
Acadia waggles her eyebrows at me, and I can’t stifle my laugh. She may be young, but she’s wise beyond her years, intuitive, and really funny.
“It wasn’t a privacy box. And none of your business,” I say, shooting her a wink. “Now, let’s get this show on the road.”
I throw up a privacy screen, making my cell soundproof and blocking the view of anyone who may wander by and try to peek through the slot in my door. Acadia holds out her wrist and I brush my fingers across the metal of her bracelet to deactivate the magic.
“Show me what you got,” I say.
“My affinity is for earth,” she replies, closing her eyes as a series of cracks snake across my floor.
My eyes widen with alarm, which morphs into wonder as blades of green sprout through the cracks. The green carpet grows until the entire floor is covered with grass. I open my mouth to commend Acadia for her talent, but she’s not finished.
Stems shoot up all around me, growing taller until bulbs form at each tip. The bulbs open and large purple petals spread to form beautiful flowers.
All of this happens in less than a minute.
“Acadia,” I whisper, breaking the silence, “this is amazing.”
Her eyes pop open and she smiles at her handiwork before turning that grin on me.
“This is just an inkling of what I can do, Rory. Obviously space here is limited. I can grow bushes, hedges, and trees just as easily. Like other earth users, I can call roots and vines and they obey my will. And…I can clean and purify soil without much more than a thought.”
“Like my mom,” I mumble, and she nods.
“I kind of suck at fire, which is why I lost control of the blaze that burned down that house and got me sent here. I’m decent with wind and water, but earth is my jam.”
“I can see that,” I say, truly impressed. “Now, we just have to figure out what Echo wants with you.”
“You think he knows?”
“Of course, he does,” I reply in a sad voice, shaking my head. “You’re a fourteen year old Sylph who accidentally lost control of a fire. Even if you’d set the thing on purpose, Acadia, you’re too young to be sent to prison. There were other options for punishment that should have been used. No, he knows. I’m sure of it.”
“Well, whatever he wants me to do, I’m not doing it,” she says with a mulish expression.
“No, you’re not,” I agree. “None of us are. The Con Crew is going to figure this out and bring the man to his knees before it comes to that.”
Her expression turns solemn, but her blue eyes stay locked on mine as she asks, “Do you really think we can do it? Do you think we can defeat him?”
“We have to, Acadia. Any other outcome is unacceptable.”
She stares at me a few seconds more, eyes wise beyond her years, then gives me a short nod. Turning her gaze to the floor, she waves a hand and the grass and flowers disappear back through the cracks. Dirt fills the crevices before hardening, making it hard to tell the cracks were even there.
Acadia’s skill truly is magnificent.
A loud rap on the door startles us both, and I quickly grab her wrist to reactivate her bracelet before pulling down the privacy shield. Hurrying forward, I pull the door open to reveal a harried-looking Jax.
“Officer Woodrow,” I greet him, keeping it formal in case anyone in the hall is listening.
“Inmate Finley, Headmaster Oberon would like to see you in his office.”
“Right now?” I ask, my voice cracking on the words.
Jax nods before looking around me to acknowledge Acadia.
“You should get to the mess for dinner,” he orders.
Moving to stand beside me, Acadia wraps her slender fingers around my arm and gives it a gentle squeeze before leaving the room without a word. The gesture is meant to be comforting, but it only makes my adrenaline spike higher. I’m all alone in this.
“We don’t have an appointment,” I hiss to Jax as we step out into the hall. “Any idea for the reason behind this impromptu summoning?”
“If I had to guess, I would say it has something to do with that little show of conjuring you put on in Wheatley’s class this morning.”
“I thought I kept it pretty tame,” I groaned. “It was just wood, after all.”
“It’s not just that, Rory,” he whispers, grabbing my wrist to pull me to a stop. After glancing around to make sure we’re alone, he leans in, bringing his face close to mine. “That storm cloud was created with speed and efficiency, showcasing more talent than you’ve shown him thus far. You may have blocked the cameras from capturing your antics after that, but what he saw was enough to pique his interest.”
“I thought he’d assume Asher created it,” I mumble as we start to walk again.
“Do not underestimate Echo,” Jax replies. “I’ve seen the footage. Some people may be fooled, but anyone really looking could see the concentration on your face and surprise on Mr. York’s. It’s pretty obvious who was working the magic.”
I shake my head to clear the nerves. This is what I wanted. I’d hoped showing off a little would rekindle Echo’s interest in me enough to schedule our next session. So what if it’s a last-minute summoning instead? The result is the same—I have another opportunity to get close to him and try to earn his trust.
All too soon, we stop outside Echo’s office and Jax raises his hand to knock on the door. After a terse call to enter, Jax gives me one last comforting look before swinging the panel open and moving aside so I can enter on my own.
Echo sits behind his desk, his gray gaze sparkling with some unnamed emotion as he watches me cross the room toward him. I stop beside the chair, shifting my weight from foot to foot as I wait for him to invite me to sit. He waves a hand toward the seat and I lower myself into it, keeping my back stiff and my senses sharp.
It’s like entering a warzone every time I come here.
“Thank you for coming, Miss Finley.”
Like I had a choice. “Thank you, Headmaster.”
“Do you know why I’ve asked you here today?”
Yes. “No sir, I don’t.”
He leans back in his chair, watching me through hooded eyes. I’m sure he wants me to squirm under his scrutiny, but I refuse to give him the pleasure. Plus, I think he’ll respect me more if I stay strong. A man like him admires strength, not cowardice. I just need to make sure not to overdo it, or he could see my responses as cocky and impertinent.
“I reviewed the footage of your sparring match with Mr. York this morning. I was very impre
ssed. While your work with me has been decent, I’ve seen nothing of the skill you portrayed during class. Now, why do you think that is?”
Thinking fast, I blurt, “I’m developing feelings for Asher.”
Everyone knows that bursts of emotion can create bursts of power. If my hormones are raging for Asher, then that would explain any momentary spike in abilities.
“Feelings, you say?”
I can’t stop the blush from rising to my cheeks as my eyes flit around the room before landing on the desk in front of Echo. I refuse to look at him.
“I’m…attracted to him. I’m afraid my libido may have influenced my magic today.”
A low hum vibrates in his chest as he mulls that over, and I realize I’m gliding down a slippery slope here. While admitting to my attraction to Asher may help explain the power Echo saw me exhibit, it could also anger him. This is his prison, and he likes to control everything in it. Plus, the way he acted during our last session hinted that he wanted something more than just a professional relationship with me.
I shiver as I remember the feel of his finger trailing down my arm.
After what feels like several minutes of silence, Echo says, “Be that as it may, it does not change the fact that the power resides inside you. If strong emotion can pull it out in such dramatic fashion? Now, that is something I can use.”
“What do you mean?”
The words burst from my lips before I can stop them. Echo’s eyebrows lift in surprise, but his expression smooths out so quickly, I’m not sure if I imagined it or not.
“What I mean, my dear, is that I plan to use your emotional response to fuel you power. I have a feeling it will prove to be a very prominent tool in your arsenal. You, Rory Finley, could prove to be my most valuable asset.”
Woah. Now we’re getting somewhere.
“Asset, sir?” I ask, hoping my voice is devoid of excitement.
This is the first time he’s inferred any personal stake in polishing and enhancing my powers. My first shot at getting him to talk.
Echo tilts his head, studying me with intense, gray eyes. I fight the urge to squirm, but the headmaster’s steely gaze feels like it’s ripping open my soul. And discovering all my secrets.
“I’m not sure I trust your motives for accepting my help, Miss Finley.”
His words strike fear through me, and I tamp down any physical reaction with an iron will. I cannot allow the whole plan to blow up the first time I try to get any information out of him. This is too important.
“What do you mean, sir?” I ask, and nearly sigh in relief when my voice remains steady.
“Did you request my help simply to get close to me, to discover some imagined conspiracy?”
Apparently, Echo Oberon does not believe in beating around the bush. And he’s way too on the nose.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean, Headmaster,” I say, my words slow and succinct. “You graciously offered to help me gain control of my powers, to stop me from hurting anyone else when I get out of here, and learn to reintegrate back into society. It was your word choice that threw me off when you referred to me as an asset. I apologize if I spoke out of turn.”
Our gazes lock for an eternity, but I refuse to back down and look away first. I may need to pretend to submit to his authority, but I do not want him to see me as weak. It’s a delicate balance, and I’m toeing the line.
“Very well,” he says, nodding. “You shall meet me in the gymnasium tomorrow, directly after lunch.”
“Yes, sir,” I reply, lifting myself out of the chair. “Thank you, Headmaster.”
“Dismissed,” he says, his attention already on the papers on his desk.
I breathe a silent sigh of relief as I leave his office and find Jax waiting for me in the hall. I give him a short nod before turning to walk away, back toward the common room.
That was a close one. Too close.
And while I resolve to be more careful, I feel tendrils of disappointment curling around me. That simple question about Echo’s choice of words created an onslaught of doubt and suspicion.
How am I supposed to find out anything important if I can’t ask a single question?
Chapter Fifteen
I’m up extra early, hoping to get a shower before any of my fellow inmates descend upon the bathroom. I feel a need to be alone with my thoughts, and a nice, long, hot shower is the best place to work through your problems. I exhale a long breath as the silence of the empty bathroom envelopes me.
Turning on the water as hot as I can stand it, I undress quickly and step under the steaming spray. My body wilts under its pressure, my muscles uncoiling and relaxing as the hot water pounds against them. It feels like heaven.
With the tension oozing from my body, I run scenarios in my head. Seemingly innocent questions I could ask Echo to get him talking dance across my mind, but I dismiss each one.
He’s too smart. Too perceptive. Too diabolical.
At this point, the best I can hope for is that he’ll eventually fill me in on his own terms. He has too. Otherwise, the training of all these faeries has no point—and I refuse to believe that.
There is an end game. I know there is. I just have to be patient, ride the wave until it crashes onto the shore.
And brace myself for the impact.
But how long will that take? I can’t stay here indefinitely. Mom and Dad will lose their minds if I don’t come home from my “vacation” and will set the entire kingdom on the task of finding me. If that happens, all of this will have been for nothing.
I hear the creak of the door over the running water, and my body tenses back up. I’ve already used my allotted ten minutes, but I’m not ready to get out yet. I haven’t come up with any kind of plan to get Echo to talk.
“Rory, is that you in there?”
“Yeah,” I call out, relaxing at the sound of Lark’s voice.
I quickly conjure up a small bar of peppermint soap and some shampoo. Keeping my head and body under the spray, I pull back the curtain a few inches and thrust the items through the gap. Warm hands pull them from my grasp.
“Where did this come from?”
“Give them back, Angelina!”
Even if Lark hadn’t said her name, I’d know that nasally screech anywhere. My eyes widen with panic as I turn off the water, conjure away my own sweet-smelling soaps, and wrap my towel around my torso. Yanking the curtain aside, I step out.
Lark’s back is to me, her fists clenched at her side. My gaze shifts to the trio in front of her. Maisy has the open bottle of shampoo beneath her nose as she breathes deep. Brooke is holding the bar of soap, smelling it just as intently.
Angelina stands between them, her arms crossed over her chest. Her expression resembles war.
“I asked you where you got these, Crow,” she taunts. “If you don’t want to tell me, maybe we can go to Headmaster’s office and you can tell him.”
“It’s none of your business, hag,” Lark spews, belying the sudden tension in her back.
Angelina’s eyes flick to me, and I see a glimmer of fear in their light depths. I can see the Glamour I placed on her battling with her need to torture Lark and her curiosity about the contraband items.
“I gave them to her,” I say, stepping up beside Lark.
Water drips down my face from my wet hair and I swipe it away. The three Sylphs watch me warily, like I’m some untamed beast they need to tread carefully around.
Maybe I am.
“Where did you get it?” Maisy asks, sniffing the shampoo again.
Her tone is filled with wonder and awe, like that simple bottle holds the entirety of the world’s treasures. My eyes drift closed as I sigh, then I reopen them, focusing on the girls. I’ve got to get us out of this before these witches ruin everything.
Step one—get rid of the evidence. I wave a hand and the soaps disappear. Maisy and Brooke let out matching squeals. Angelina’s gaze bounces between them, her eyes wide with shock. I take advantage o
f their momentary alarm to lunge forward.
Step two—make them forget. I place one hand on Maisy and the other on Brooke. Standing chest-to-chest with Angelina, I lift my leg and press my bare foot down on top of hers.
“Do not move,” I grit out before they have the foresight to struggle.
Their bodies go rigid as their eyes roll wildly in their sockets. As if on some unknown cue, all three gazes dart to my wrist, where my gold bracelet remains firmly attached. I can practically read their minds. Taste their confusion. Smell their fear.
“You did not see anything out of the ordinary,” I say. “Lark is using the prison soap just like everyone else, and you will forget about me using magic. This. Never. Happened.”
Their eyes glaze over for a second with those last three words, and I take a step back, breaking the contact between us. Maisy shakes her head as if to clear it, Brooke blinks several times, and Angelina rolls her shoulders like she’s trying to work out a tight muscle.
“What are you looking at?” the queen bee barks, her eyes darting from me to Lark and back again.
“Nothing,” I growl, before giving her my back and stalking back into the shower.
I grab my clothes along the way, pulling the curtain closed behind me so I can drop my towel and dress. Anger courses through me, mostly directed at myself. I’d been careless and had been caught using magic. It’s stupid mistakes like this that I cannot afford to make.
The shower next to mine roars to life as I finish dressing and pull the curtain aside. I step out just in time to see Lark disappearing into the stall. The other three girls are primping in front of the mirror, which makes absolutely no sense. It’s like they want to look their best for the shower head and tile walls. Absolutely ridiculous.
I take my time combing the tangles from my damp, blonde hair. I refuse to leave Lark here alone with them. I know she can handle them and their vicious tongues—she was incarcerated here long before I was—but that’s beside the point.
Now, she doesn’t have to deal with them alone. She has me.
She finishes in less than five minutes, and comes out fully dressed with her black hair up in a towel. The three witches shove past her as they stomp toward the shower stalls, like they were just waiting until she finished so they could all three go at the same time. I roll my eyes and open the bathroom door, shooing Lark out before me.
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