by Ann Aguirre
She paused, scrutinizing my work, and then she gave me a startled once-over. “You have a real knack, Chelsea. Why aren’t you in one of the accelerated classes?”
“They were full,” I mumbled.
“Do you want me to get you on the waiting list? I can already tell that the work in here isn’t challenging enough for you.”
“It’s fine. I’m what you’d call an underachiever.”
The guy next to me snickered while her brows came together in a disapproving frown. “Only hard work can secure you a bright future.”
“It’ll take more than that,” I mumbled.
“Let me make you an appointment with the school counselor. Between your attitude and the number of absences already accrued…” She lowered her voice to advise me she’d noticed my emotional struggles and wanted to be there for me.
If I was a normal student, I’d just be mortified, but this could be deeply inconvenient. Arguing over a counseling session would just present me with more attention than I could handle, so I ended up in a stuffed armchair while a bearded guy in wire-frame glasses studied me over a can of chewed pencils. His oral fixation probably needed some analysis, but it was my turn on the couch.
“Are you having some trouble at home, Chelsea?”
Oh lord.
“My mom passed away recently. It’s why we left Pomona.” I felt shitty saying that, but since it was the truth, after a fashion, it was the best I could do.
“I’m sorry for your loss. It’s just you and your father now?”
“I guess. But he works a lot, probably as a distraction from the loss, you know?” I offered that snippet of vulnerability, hoping he’d take the bait.
“Everyone has their own way to process grief,” he acknowledged. “But I imagine that leaves you feeling pretty lonely.”
I nodded. All of this was true, and it applied to my old life. The discomfort of talking about it with a complete stranger didn’t matter, as long as it won me some wiggle room at this school. Teachers shared information, so Dr. Miller would spread the word about my bereavement. The slack should last until end of the semester.
“Sometimes grief can turn into depression. When we feel like that, it’s hard to get out of bed. Everything feels like too much effort.”
“I know what you mean.” Clearly, he thought that was why I’d missed school.
“I’ll talk to Mrs. Palmer. She had good intentions, but it might be too soon to increase your workload. She doesn’t like seeing wasted potential, but you still have two years to build your academic record. It’s important to do what you can, even when it’s tough.”
“I get it,” I said, lowering my eyes. “But I need some time.”
“Of course.” He casually nudged the tissue box closer like I might break down.
“Thanks for listening.” Maybe that was too much?
He smiled, probably thinking he’d made a difference today. Fine; I wouldn’t disillusion him. Miller could go home and drink some Shiraz while basking in a job well done. “I’m here when you need an ear. Have you considered a creative outlet, poetry or a thought journal? It doesn’t have to be formal or structured. Sadness is okay; you shouldn’t try to stifle it. The important thing is not to let your feelings strangle you.”
“That’s a good idea,” I said.
“Anytime. I’ll write you a pass for your last class.”
I arrived ten minutes late and slipped into my seat mid-lecture. God, school is such a pain in the ass. Once the final bell rang, I bolted from my chair like an Olympic runner. It would’ve been convenient if the Harbinger was waiting for me, but today I found Jake lingering in front of the school. When he spied me, he pushed away from the building.
“I’m wondering if you can answer some questions for me.”
This couldn’t be good. “About what?”
“The night of the party, obviously. I keep playing it back, and you’re the only one who wasn’t completely freaked out, like you knew exactly what was going on.”
“You’re accusing me of what exactly, not panicking?”
“If you dosed everyone and let me take the blame for it, I’ll find out.” His expression had been friendly and kind before, even occasionally flirtatious. It wasn’t anymore.
“Leave her alone,” Kian said.
I hadn’t heard him come up behind me, but the timid, skittish boy I’d met initially had vanished. In his place stood a confident young man, not preternaturally beautiful as he had been, but better, because he was wholly himself. Since I didn’t want this to escalate, I waved him off.
“It’s fine; we’re just talking. I’ll see you later.”
Kian didn’t like it, but he left. Tanya beckoned him from across the parking lot, and they headed out together. Jake followed them with his eyes, and then the anger drained out of him. His hands curled into fists, not to lash out, but as if he needed something to hold on to.
“I wish there was something I could do,” I said.
He sighed and shook his head. “After I blamed you for everything? I knew you were cool the first day we met. I just … I can’t figure out how everything fell apart so fast.”
Wedderburn, I thought, but didn’t say it out loud.
Jake didn’t seem to need my input to continue the conversation, though. “I used to think I was too lucky, you know? Life’s been easy for me so far.”
“Maybe you’re supposed to learn from this.”
“I guess. But I could’ve lived without knowing how fast supposed friends can turn on you. Even Tanya … She said she loved me, but when people started talking shit, she listened.”
“In my experience, athletes get forgiven a lot. So even if it doesn’t blow over on its own, when you start playing varsity basketball next year, everyone will come around.”
“I don’t want to be forgiven; I didn’t do anything,” he snapped.
“Then I don’t know what to tell you. Life isn’t fair.”
“Not a news flash, not helping.”
Despite residual guilt, I had no more patience for his personal problems. Jake didn’t seem to get it; sometimes shit went horribly wrong through no fault of your own, and you had to cope with the fallout. He was still tall, white, cis male, handsome, and athletically gifted. This shouldn’t be more than a small bump in his road. A little adversity built character, right? I jogged to the bus stop, wondering how the hell to ask the Harbinger on a double date, and it wasn’t even solely a question of how to frame the request. I pondered it on the way home but didn’t come to any solutions. He always showed up at his pleasure, not according to my convenience, though I had to admit; lately, I came perilously close to counting on him. Which made no sense, considering how well I understood his nature.
I sighed as I hopped off the bus.
“The Japanese say that sound is happiness escaping,” the Harbinger said.
In Colin guise, he drew looks from people passing by. More than a few smiled or made eye contact, and he encouraged them with bedroom eyes. From the spark of his aura even in human form, he seemed much stronger than he had when he left my room. Remembering how he drove Nicole mad with unrequited longing, I didn’t want to think about what he’d done to siphon that energy. But a small part of me eased at realizing he hadn’t disappeared, even if it meant strangers might be hurting. My inclination to look away didn’t make me unique; entire empires had been built on that premise.
“You’ve been tugging at me for a while now. I collect you require my attention?” But he was smiling, so it seemed he didn’t mind.
“So here’s the thing…” I explained the situation in a rush.
“This is too delicious. But … it will be excruciating for you to watch, will it not?” His delicate tone didn’t change the meaning of the question.
“Uncomfortable is the word I’d pick. No, it won’t be awesome seeing Kian bask in Tanya’s glow, but…” I shrugged.
“I suppose I should cooperate, having volunteered my services as your love inte
rest.”
“True, I didn’t ask you to tell everyone that.”
“And why I’ll do it without you incurring another debt. I suspect it will be diverting. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an engagement.” He stepped into the shadows and disappeared.
With who? I knew so little about his habits and his existence, if he had friends in the immortal realm or if everything was checks and balances. It actually agitated me to discover this. Okay, I’m losing my mind. The Harbinger is not my business. Getting attached to him would be like falling for a tropical storm. All at once, I remembered … and then I couldn’t believe I had forgotten, even for a moment.
Aaron.
The Harbinger who came for me, who rescued me, was also the same one who kept someone as a pet. Disappointment crashed down on me, a baffling mixture of pain and chagrin, both at myself and him. Rubbing my chest, I set out unsteadily for the Baltimore. As I passed the bodega, José caught my gaze through the shop window. To my surprise, he darted from behind the counter and out into the cold without a coat.
“You okay?” he asked.
I shrugged. “What answer would satisfy you?”
“Luisa was worried when you went missing,” he muttered.
But in his dark eyes, I saw an echo of his wife’s concern. The awareness that normal people could find something to like in me acted as a balm on my aching heart. So I softened and managed a smile. He returned it and gestured toward the store.
“Come in. I just made coffee.”
“That’s it? No questions.”
“Sometimes that’s the last thing you need,” he said.
“You got that right.”
What I needed, he offered—and that was a warm respite from a cold world. After I drank some coffee and ate a plate of Luisa’s tamales, I fetched my cleaning supplies without being asked. It almost looked like he’d saved up chores just to make me feel needed; the floor didn’t look like it had seen a thorough mopping since I’d been gone.
“You don’t have to,” he said. “That’s not why I invited you in.”
“I know. But I could use the company.”
So he stopped protesting and made casual conversation as I worked, nothing too personal or intrusive. It was, frankly, perfect. José tried to give me a sack of groceries once I finished, but I shook my head. “No thanks. I have plenty of food at home.”
“Then why…?”
“You’re not the only one who likes doing good deeds.”
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
Okay was a relative word. The discomfort from other day rebounded, filtering a phantom pain throughout my body. Maybe I’d overdone the physical exertion while my body was still healing. Rochelle had said she had done as much as she could and that the rest of my recovery would take time. Whatever the reason, I hurt as I trudged back to the Baltimore. For so many reasons, it bothered me that the only reason I could even get into my shitty room was because of the Harbinger. It was like he was trying to infiltrate my life on an atomic level. When I should be focused on Kian or worrying about my myriad adversaries, my head was full of the Harbinger, to the point that my skull felt like it might explode.
By the time our double date rolled around, crankiness settled its teeth into my neck. I set out for the meeting point without much caring if the Harbinger even showed. I hadn’t told him where we were meeting or what time, but if he was coming, he’d find me. He’d tracked me down almost two thousand away after all, and I wished that didn’t fill me with such warmth.
Kian had decided we should go the Marquee, probably to impress Tanya with his unexpected coolness. Maybe because I was already in a pissy mood, a wave of resentment swamped me. He’d only gone to this place because of me, and now he wanted to show it off to someone else, the girl he’d secretly liked for years. Whoa, rein it in. You can’t be like this.
Taking a few steadying breaths, I stepped into the lobby bar, where Kian was already waiting, despite the fact that I was ten minutes early. He beamed at me, so sweet and excited that it hurt me to look at him. On him, happiness held an unexpected sheen, lending him this puckish, irresistible charm. Yes, he was still too young, gangly and awkward, but this was how he should’ve been all along, before his life got twisted up by supernatural gamesmanship.
“You’re here.” He took a few steps with bright smile in his eyes; then his gaze diverted to the door, where Tanya stood in a white jacket, a white knit cap on her tawny hair like a princess in a fairy tale. I almost expected to see a diadem of snowflakes when she pulled her hat off, officially proclaiming her the snow queen.
Then she bounced on her toes, turning into a normal teenage girl. “This place is so awesome. Are you sure we can swing this?”
As she said this, a staffer came over. “IDs, please.”
Tanya froze. I whipped mine out, as did Kian. We got a cursory check; then the guy looked at Tanya pointedly. She seemed like she might panic, and Kian stepped in. “She forgot hers. But come on, do I look like a cradle robber? We just want to watch the movie anyway.”
As the dude hesitated, someone dropped a drink tray, and a whole lot of cursing commenced on the other side of the room. A big guy was shaking spilled liquor off his combat boots, looking like he might put the clumsy waiter through a wall. This server dashed off, presumably to mitigate the damage. Tanya exhaled slowly.
“Sorry, I was too nervous, I guess. I almost screwed things up.” She smiled at Kian like he was some kind of super hero.
Wow, this sucks more than expected.
“Will Colin be here soon?” Kian asked, checking his watch.
Before I could answer, a pair of arms slipped around me from behind. “Present. Shall we get a table?”
I shook him off, but that didn’t stop him from settling a hand in the small of my back in a distinctly proprietary fashion. Kian didn’t even seem to notice, as he was one hundred and ten percent Tanya-focused. He shepherded her through the dark room to the same booth we sat at the last time we came, but he slid in after her, probably hoping for some incidental contact.
Thankfully, the preview reel started, sparing me the need to make small talk. When the Harbinger put an arm around me, I elbowed him. Undeterred, he whispered, “You’re not playing your role with much conviction tonight. Why are you so angry?”
The truth spurted out of me like lotion from an over-squeezed tube. “Because you’re keeping someone as a pet, and I was enough of an asshole to forget.”
In the faint, shifting light, something like surprise … and relief flickered over his too-handsome features. “Is that all? When I decided to share your story, I set him free.”
“What?” I stared, unable to credit what I was hearing.
“I tweaked his memories and gave him into human hands. It would’ve been cruel to leave him alone so much while I focus on you, no?”
In my book, keeping someone as a pet at all qualified as cruel, but I couldn’t deny the relief flooding me. “Whatever.”
He kissed my temple, more Colin pretense, right? “This pleases me, dearling. I thought … well, that it must hurt you to see this.”
Across the table Kian was whispering to Tanya, taking advantage of the setting. She didn’t seem opposed to his closeness, either. While she might not be ready to date just yet, I had the feeling that in time, this could turn into something. I waited for the pain, but it was muted, a low thrum of inevitable acceptance edged in longing for what I’d lost. He is not mine, I thought, and this time, it carried the unmistakable knell of truth.
When the Harbinger reached for me a second time, I let him pull me in. Settling against him felt disturbingly like coming home.
THE POLARITY PRINCIPLE
Tuesday after school, new minions awaited me. A pair of men in sunglasses and black suits stood with arms folded, just beyond school property. The taller one opened the back door to a silver town car and gestured for me to get in. It wouldn’t be Wedderburn, so I climbed in and found the interior balmy like a sun-drenched
beach. I recognized the god at once, but panic careened along my nerve endings because I had a sword made from Dwyer’s heart wrapped around my wrist. Aegis tingled as if in awareness of the paradox.
The car pulled away from the curb, and through the tinted window, I glimpsed Kian, staring after me from the school parking lot. He’ll have questions for sure. Putting that aside for the moment, I shifted to face Dwyer. His aura stung my eyes, so tears drizzled down my cheeks. Tawny gold like a surfer, he looked a little out of place in a suit. I could easily picture him sprawled in board shorts on a lounge chair.
“You’re not what I expected,” he said in greeting.
There was no point in deploying the confused-schoolgirl impression; he clearly knew I was more than I seemed. “Oh?”
“Someone capable of getting the better of Buzzkill, thwarting the winter king, and enchanting the Harbinger.”
“You don’t think I did all those things?” I’d probably choose a word other than enchant, but otherwise, fair enough.
“No, I have evidence to the contrary, but I’m baffled as to how.”
“Is that important?”
He wore a musing look as he shook his head. “Perhaps not. Would you explain to me how a human girl came to possess a legendary blade forged by Govannon?”
“I’d rather not.” Dwyer reached for my bracelet, like he recognized the base material on some level, and I snatched my hand away. “Bad idea.”
“You pose quite an intriguing riddle, girl. But that’s not why I’ve asked for a moment of your time. Do you know who I am?”
“Wedderburn’s opponent, the sun god.” It would do no good to feign ignorance anymore, and it might only serve to piss him off.
Since I was barely surviving as it was, I couldn’t deal with two powerful immortals gunning for me. He smiled, and I strangled the urge to throw myself on the floor of the vehicle in helpless obeisance. It actually hurt to keep myself upright, beside him on the seat, as if we were equals. No wonder people thought these creatures were gods, back in the day. His smile tightened a little when he realized I had resisted.
So that was an intentional power play.