Second Transgression

by Wendi L. Wilson

  “It’s been fun, trying to be friends with you, but it’s time for that to come to an end. A friendship between us is unnatural, and I’ve realized I don’t need any of you. I’m going to be training exclusively with Headmaster, and I will become more powerful than any of you can even imagine.” I force my lips to lift into a self-satisfied smirk. “I’m so far above all of you, and I’m tired of you dragging me down.”

  Acadia spins and runs from the room with a cry. Jolene and Cedric go after her, not pausing to even glance in my direction, thankfully. I don’t know if I could keep this up if they all speared me with the same expressions Lark and Asher are giving me right now.

  Disbelief. Anger. And underneath it all, hurt.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  I swivel my head to meet Asher’s eyes, forcing my own to narrow menacingly.

  “You were a distraction, Asher. We both know you’re not good enough for me, and I was only toying with you for my own entertainment.”

  Every single one of those words rips a hole in my soul. I’m playing on his deepest fears, using them to hit him where it hurts the most. His chest heaves with each breath as his eyes light with blue fire—and not the good kind. This is anger, raw and pure and directed solely at me.

  “I knew you were a spoiled shrew the moment I laid eyes on you,” he grits out between clenched teeth. “I never should have let you in. Come on, Lark. Let’s go before I do something I can’t take back.”

  He grabs her hand and drags her away. Her eyes, glassy with unshed tears, stay locked on mine as they cross the room. I keep the hard, unyielding expression on my face long after they’re gone, and no one else dares approach me. I wait several minutes, then leave the common room and head back to my cell.

  My plan worked. I’ve alienated my friends, broken their hearts, and hopefully, guaranteed their safety. I’m sure Echo saw the show I put on, and I’m pretty sure it was believable enough to eliminate any of them as tools to keep me in line.

  I just hope that when all this is over, they’ll understand and forgive me. But even if they don’t, I know it was the right thing to do.

  I’m the one whose purpose here is to expose Echo Oberon. I’m the one who dragged them into it with me.

  And I’m the one who has to get them out of it and keep them safe. No matter the cost.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Excellent. Good job, Rory.”

  I continue to grow the storm I’ve been creating, ignore the chill of revulsion tiptoeing down my spine at Echo’s casual use of my name. I remind myself the familiarity is a good thing—that it means he’s feeling more comfortable in our working relationship.

  But the reminder doesn’t quell the heebie jeebies. He’s only ever called me “Miss Finley,” and while the sound of my true name passing his lips in unnerving, it has nothing on the purr in his voice when he says the name Rory.

  I’ve been working in the gymnasium with him all morning. I’d received a note before breakfast that I would be excused from regular classes today for private training. I’d been relieved. Dread had filled me at the prospect of spending hours stuck in small classrooms with my former friends, trying to convince them I was honest in my disdain of them.

  All while seeing the hurt on their faces.

  I push the negative thoughts away to concentrate on the task at hand. I push more heat into the dark cloud, then push wind forward to spin it into a cyclone. Within seconds, a raging tornado is twirling in the middle of the gym, the lightning flashing within its depths giving it an eerie feel.

  “Now, make it dissipate as quickly as you can manage.”

  I take a deep breath, knowing that revealing the extent of my abilities could lead to a whole new set of problems—like what Echo will come to expect of me—but I’m in this until the bitter end. I need to impress him, so he’ll know without a doubt that I am the faery he’s been searching for…for whatever plan he’s brewing in his devious mind.

  I clench my raised hands into fists, cutting the flow of power while mentally pulling the energy from the tornado. It takes about three seconds for the entire thing to fizzle out of existence. I feel Echo’s eyes on me, and I turn to meet his stare.

  “You really have been holding out on me, Rory Finley.”

  “I’m sorry, Headmaster. I was—”

  “Scared?” he says, cutting me off. “So you’ve said.”

  “Thank you for giving me another chance,” I say, keeping my voice and my expression as meek as I can manage.

  “Show me fire,” he says, ignoring my thanks. “I want to see what you did to that human at the club.”

  The reminder of my actions makes me want to close in on myself and curl into a ball of self-loathing. But I can’t let Echo see that. I need to impress the man, whether I like it or not.

  I let my eyes drift shut for a moment, imagining a life-sized wooden dummy. When I flick my eyelids up, the object I pictured is standing in the middle of the gym. I glance at Echo, who’s staring at my conjuration with his mouth slightly open.

  The dummy is not some faceless, crude carving. Its face is intricately chiseled, its body defined. It’s even wearing clothes—gray, baggy pants and a fitted shirt.

  It looks exactly like Tiana Avery.

  Before Echo’s next breath, I shoot a stream of blue fire at the dummy. The powerful burst hits it right in the chest, boring a hole through the wood to exit the other side. I call the tail of the fire back, making the stream wrap around the dummy’s head.

  Ten seconds later, my fire is gone and there’s nothing that remains of the dummy but a pile of black ash on the floor.

  Echo clears his throat—once, twice, three times—before turning to look at me with awe on his face. He quickly recovers, giving me a stern look.

  “I’m sure Miss Avery would not appreciate the likeness.”

  I shrug. “I don’t care what she appreciates. She’s a narcissistic witch that acts like a child and treats everyone like she isn’t a prisoner here like the rest of us.”

  “Yes, I am aware. Perhaps you will be the one to bring her down a peg or two, eh?”

  I’m not sure what the right answer to that is—it could be a trick—so I hold my tongue. Echo chuckles at my silence before growing serious once more and giving me my next instruction.

  “I want you to create the wall of water we worked on before. But Rory, this time do not hold back. I need to see what you can really do with the element if I am going to determine what help you need from me.”

  “Yes, sir,” I reply, biting the inside of my cheek.

  I don’t need his help. But I do need his trust, so I raise my hands and call to water.

  Throwing everything I’ve got into it, I start to sweat as water begins to pour from the wall in front of us. It quickly grows into a swell as I hold its mass in place against the wall. Soon, a veritable tidal wave threatens to curl over and crush us beneath its weight.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Echo flinch back ever so slightly. I allow the water to billow near the top, making it look like I’m losing control, and he actually stumbles back two steps. I somehow manage to bite back my laughter as I quickly send the water away. Following behind it with hot gusts of air, I leave the floor and wall completely dry.

  “That was impressive,” he says, sounding like he can’t believe what he just witnessed.

  “I’m a freak,” I say, intoning my voice with just enough self-hatred to get the response I’m hoping for.

  “You are extraordinary, my dear. We are going to do great things together, you and I.”

  Bingo. Gotcha sucker.

  “Really?” I ask, giving him my best puppy dog eyes.

  “Really. But all in good time. Now, go get yourself some lunch. I will be in touch once I decide where we shall meet tomorrow.”

  I nod, saying “Thank you, sir,” before spinning and walking away.

  Echo had cancelled all of Chase’s classes today so we’d have full use of the gym, but I
imagine he doesn’t want to do it again. There are dozens of other Fae here that need training for…whatever he has planned.

  As I leave the gym and walk down the corridor, a fine sheen of sweat forms on my face. My heartbeat becomes erratic and a sense of foreboding shivers through me. All at the thought of showing my face in the mess hall.

  I don’t want to face the Con Crew…if they even still call themselves that.

  I took a wrecking ball to our group, my hurtful words splintering us apart all in the name of protecting them. I’m sure they’ll snub me, but that’s not the problem. The problem is that I know I have to continue to be a jerk to them. I know Echo will be watching through his cameras, and if I’m going to really sell my change of heart regarding having them as friends, I have to keep up the ruse at all times.

  And I really don’t know how long I can keep it up.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  By the time I reach the mess, I’ve decided to find a way to come clean to my friends. At some point during my internal debate, I realized alienating the others and isolating myself from them without telling them why was an idiotic move.

  I blame the mental and physical strain of solitary confinement. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I acted rashly. They’ll understand once I explain. At least, I hope they will and I haven’t already caused irreparable damage.

  Now, I just have to find a way get them to see me without Echo finding out. I can’t just walk up and explain, or ask to speak with them privately. I know Echo is watching me closely. I have to be careful.

  It’s not going to be easy, but I have to try. I have to make things right.

  As I step inside, the sounds are almost overwhelming. The clatter of silverware on dishes, the screech of chair legs on tile, the conversations and laughter—all of it ceases within seconds of my entrance. All eyes are on me, waiting to see what I’ll do. Apparently, my falling out with my friends and the fact that I’m now working closely with Headmaster are common knowledge…and everyone wants to see what will happen next.

  Ignoring the burning, quizzical gazes, I head for the food counter and grab a tray. Quiet conversations pick back up as I turn to face the room, but there are still dozens of eyes watching me. Making sure my eyes don’t stray to the spot where I usually eat, I head in the opposite direction and plop down at an empty table.

  Keeping my head down, I pick at my food. I don’t lift my eyes until the noise level in the room returns to its original decibel range. I flick my eyes from left to right, sighing in relief as I confirm the rest of the inmates have lost interest in me. Only then do I allow my gaze to search out my friends.

  I spot them immediately, sitting at our usual table. Jolene, Cedric, and Acadia have their backs to me, their heads huddled together as they lean low over the table. Lark is hunched over as well, her face solemn as she whispers to them. Her black eyes dart up to catch mine, but she quickly looks away with a slight flinch.

  I swallow against the sudden knot in my throat and let my eyes drift to Asher. His bright blue gaze is locked on me, burning with an angry fire that I can feel all the way to my soul. One side of his mouth lifts into a snarl before he breaks eye contact, bowing his head to stare at the table.

  I force a smile to my face, hoping it appears sadistically pleased for the cameras’ benefit. Holding as long as I can manage, I drop my gaze back to my food and take a few bites with gusto. I work to keep up the façade while my brain whirrs frantically to come up with another plan.

  Trying to send them some discreet signal under the watchful gazes of Echo’s cameras and our fellow inmates is not going to work. Especially with the hurt and anger they’re feeling for me right now. Maybe I can corner one of the girls in the showers. If I time it right, I can get them to hear me out while no one else is present. And there aren’t any cameras in there, thank God.

  It’s perfect, actually. Shower day for the girls is tomorrow, so I won’t even have to wait that long. I’ll just make sure I get there early, then wait until one of them shows up. I can use Glamour to get rid of anyone else who may be there and say my piece…and hope they’ll listen.

  It has to work. I have to make amends and let them know I didn’t mean any of what I said. The guilt and pain are eating me alive. I can’t take it anymore.

  Seeing the anger in Asher’s expression was particularly painful, given how I feel about him. Despite my resolve to be his friend and nothing else, he wormed his way into my heart and put down roots. If I’ve hurt him so badly that he never forgives me, then that’s on me. But if he loves me, even a little bit, then maybe there’s a chance.

  The ones we love can hurt us the worst, but they’re also the ones for whom we have the highest capacity for forgiveness. I just hope Asher cares enough about me to at least give me the chance to explain.

  With that thought, my eyes flit back to their table. My heart stalls, my breath hitching in my throat. Acadia, Jolene, and Cedric have turned in their chairs so they’re facing me. Lark is on her feet, her fists propped on the table top in front of her.

  My heart patters back to life as I realize they’re not looking at me, but at something behind me. Curiosity spirals through me, pinching at my nerve endings in an attempt to get me to turn around to see what they’re looking at, but I beat it back.

  I have to appear disinterested. My eyes flick up toward the cameras, but for once, none of them are pointed at me. Shock and unease war for supremacy inside me, making my body tense as my grip threatens to bend the fork in my hand.

  I glance back toward my friends and catch Lark’s eyes on me. I hold her gaze for a moment, her blank expression morphing with lines of pity and remorse.

  That’s it. I can’t take it anymore. I drop my fork on my tray and take a deep, cleansing breath. Gripping the edge of the table with both hands, I twist round and look over my shoulder to see what my friends, and every camera in the entire mess hall, are looking at.

  Over by the food line stands a Sylph with her back to me, her long, wavy hair a few shades lighter than my own. She has one hand on a hip as she gestures wildly with the other. My eyes focus on the boy in front of her, and my body shudders as I realize it’s Asher.

  He’s staring at her intently, his face stern as he nods at whatever she is saying. His eyes chase to mine for the briefest of moments, but he quickly refocuses on the creature in front of him. He says something and she throws her hands into the air in an impatient gesture.

  Asher leans in closer, bringing his face down even with hers, and all the oxygen leaves the room as I fight for breath. The girl shakes her head, and the man I love grasps her shoulders, pulling her close enough so he can whisper something in her ear.

  Black dots float in and out of my vision as everything turns blurry. My whole body shivers as chills race down my spine, watching Asher’s perfect lips brush against this strange Sylph’s hair.

  He pulls back and stares at her face, his expression serious until she nods. His stern look melts into one of relief. Then his lips lift into a grin, and my heart dies in my chest.

  As I watch with my cold, dead heart refusing to beat, the girl loops her arms around Asher’s neck, pulling him in for a tight hug. He returns her embrace, his hands flat against her back as his eyes meet mine over the top of her head.

  My chair flies back, screeching against the tile floor as I leap to my feet. I look from left to right, keeping Asher and his new friend firmly behind me as I search frantically for the exit. As is much the way with panic, my common sense deserts me as I spot the door in front of me and dash toward it. I don’t give my table a wide enough berth, and the metal leg catches my toe as I pass.

  The world moves in slow motion as I come down like a bag of bricks, landing roughly on the hard floor. Ignoring the pain in my palms and knees, I scramble back to my feet. Someone shouts my name as I flee, but I ignore it, racing down the halls toward my cell.

  I rush into my room and slam the door behind me, my senses going haywire as I gasp for air. I see
nothing. I hear nothing. Nothing exists but the image of Asher, holding another girl in his arms. Giving her that smile he kept reserved mostly for me. Watching me while he pulled her close.

  Now I’m breathing too hard, too fast for my lungs to absorb any of the oxygen I’m inhaling. The edges of my vision start to go dark, and I know I need to calm down or I’m going to pass out. I quickly throw up a privacy shield over the door and conjure a paper bag, breathing into it the way I’ve seen humans do on television.

  Once my breathing evens out and some of the panic subsides, I crumple the bag into a ball and conjure it away. The decision to conjure the bag was ridiculous, I know, because I could’ve just as easily used magic to calm myself instead of resorting to old human tricks.

  I lay back on my bed and stare at the cracks in the ceiling, playing the scene from the mess hall over and over in my head. I need to forget about Asher’s actions for a while, so I focus on my own clumsy exit. A groan vibrates from my gut as I think about it, and I throw an arm across my eyes.

  Could I have been any more obvious?

  With the spectacle I made, I have no doubt that at least one of the cameras had refocused on me, and Echo had seen my over-the-top reaction to…what I saw. I was going to have to come up with some sort of excuse for my haste. One that didn’t involve gut-wrenching pain and insane jealousy.

  And I was going to have to figure out how to function knowing Asher had already moved on. With a Sylph, no less.

  What little food I ate at lunch is threatening to make a reappearance, so I try to put Asher and his fickle ways out of my head. Of course, that’s not really fair. He’s not being fickle. I let him go. I pushed him away and hurt him in the worst fashion I could come up with. If he can find happiness with someone else, I should be happy for him.

  But I’m not that generous and I’m not happy. I’m devastated.