Chapter 16: Bianca - Skin - Change

Bianca
Skin

It’d been a few days since my very strange, but recovering, encounter with Julian, and I’d been trying to find different ways to keep myself occupied while I waited for word from Ms. Protean.

Of course, that meant I had to hang out at the college—to make myself more readily available, obviously. If I wasn’t here if she needed me, I’d be remiss as an assistant.

I totally wasn’t a loser with no life.

But there was also something going on I couldn’t quite explain. I felt jumpy, restless, and was ready to punch the first person who offended me if only for some excitement.

“Small chocolate latte please,” I told the barista. It’d been a long day of waiting and reading, and I was so tired.

“Um, sorry,” The wavy-haired brunette cashier replied, not sounding very sorry at all. “We’re fresh out of chocolate.”

I frowned. Normally I’d never argue, but how could this be? I needed my fix. From the grumbling complaints of the patrons behind me, I wasn’t the only one who required such nourishment. “What do you mean?”

How could an establishment be so ill-prepared?

“You drank it all.” The employee had no shame, and even had the audacity to nod in the direction of my table. Of course, there were two empty paper cups there, but that wasn’t that bad. And there was no way I’d made that many trips to the trash can.

Besides, what about the concept of supply and demand. I’d been here forever already.

We should have all been used to this routine by now.

“Do you have something to say?” the man asked, raising his eyebrow mockingly. “Or would you like something else? We’ve plenty of decaf too. You might like that.”

Never. Decaf was for the weak!

And for people like Damen who had issues with hypertension.

I wanted to yell at the barista, if only to wipe that mocking smirk right off his face, but I couldn’t. My earlier fire and fury remained subdued.

I sighed. “Just a vanilla latte then, please.”

“Okay,” he grinned and winked. “One decaf vanilla latte coming right up.”

What? No!

But I was too weak to argue much past a muted protest as the perky man bounced away to make my order. Internally, I was screaming.

I could have sworn he was laughing at me as he handed me my poor excuse for a coffee. With a broken heart, I returned to my seat.

My calendar was still empty, and my coffee, ruined. It was back to reading while remaining the ever vigilant and ready assistant. Whenever Ms. Protean needed me, I would be there.

In the meantime, it was back to Miles’s book.

I set the cup to the side as I pulled out the novel in question, ready to learn and absorb. The witch had been more than helpful in offering his reading recommendations and had suggested another classic by the world-renowned Andreina Bellini.

“Hey there.” Anthony dropped a book onto the table and slid into the seat opposite mine. “What are you so moody about? I thought you were about to jump that guy.”

“Not really.” I closed Longsword of Love and slid my notebook over the cover. This distraction would pull me further away from the harrowing adventures of Johnson, the noble, yet ill-advised knight, and Guinevere, the young noble maiden he was sworn to protect. It’d been coming up to a good part too: the two heroes were travelling through the moors to slay a dastardly dragon and everything.

Dragons really were violent creatures.

But that would have to wait.

“I’m not doing anything,” I told him, trying to ignore the knowing gleam in his eyes. “Can I help you?”

I’d hoped he would say yes, just to give me a purpose. I could always read more later.

“I’m waiting for Brayden.” Anthony glanced at the doors that lead from the coffee shop into the library. “And you looked lonely.”

“I-I’m not lonely.” I pulled the novel toward me. My face grew warm as the hair prickled at the back of my neck. For some reason being near Anthony made me feel guilty, which led to me being rude.

But he hadn’t done anything wrong and seemed interesting and polite, so I wasn’t sure why I was so shy.

Julian had commented about wanting the two of us to get closer. And I wanted to. None of this made any sense at all.

But my abruptness didn’t deter the necromancer.

“I had a break between classes,” he said, leaning back in his seat. His casual but confident demeanor and the way he crossed his legs was so much like his brother that my apprehension faded. “And Julian asked me to check in on you.”

“Oh.” I frowned down at my coffee. So, he was only talking to me as a favor?

“But more than that…” Anthony slowly raised his left eyebrow, wrinkling his nose as he thoughtfully watched me. A moment later, he grinned, folding his arms over his books as he leaned over the table. “I thought you might want to do something fun.”

“Something… fun?” This sounded foreboding.

Damen said that Anthony was Brayden’s best friend, and that the two of them got into all sorts of trouble. So, what might ‘something fun’ mean?

It could be anything.

Actually, that might not be so bad. A distraction would be nice. “What is it?”

“I knew you’d like that.” Anthony’s grin grew wider. “So—” He opened the silver spiral-bound notebook and leaned forward, running his finger over the lines. There were columns of scribbles, but Miles’s name stood out starkly from the script. “—Miles missed both school and practice for a few days and no one knows why.”

I tried to read through the tiny, loopy writing, but only bits and pieces were legible.

“Is that… Miles’s schedule?” I recognized those classes. I, too, had written out variations of the calendars synced to my phone. “Are you stalking him? I don’t want to prank Miles.”

But he might deserve it if he’s been skipping stuff. I knew I should have been more vigilant.

“Pranking? I never prank.” Anthony’s brows drew together. His dark brown eyes shone with hurt. “What in the world did Julian tell you?”

I leaned back in my chair and waved my hand as my face flamed. “N-not Julian! Damen said you and Brayden are close.”

His thick lips pursed. “And?”

“Brayden is so h-happy and carefree?” Somehow my statement had become a question. “He likes to go after Bryce.”

Although now that I thought about it, Brayden was a lot of talk too. I’ve never seen him do anything to our brother.

“You don’t need to worry about Bryce,” Anthony said.

I wasn’t worried.

“We’re in the same quintet and we know each other pretty well. Believe me, he’s more than capable of holding his own against Brayden.” Anthony’s serious mood continued. “He might be socially awkward, but when it comes to coming out on top, he’s beaten Brayden every time. He’s badass. But Brayden still tries, so he’ll strike at any weakness he can.”

Bryce… a badass? I’d been growing increasingly curious as of late about his supposed legendary prowess.

Was I going to have to arrange something?

“And Brayden is one of the most serious people I know. I mean, he likes libraries,” Anthony carried on, gesturing vaguely around us. “He might be cheerful and loud around you, but that has more to do with who you are than anything else. If I know him—and I do—he’s excited and is trying to make you feel welcome.”

“B-but…” My mind raced. “Damen said you two were fun.”

Anthony’s eyes widened for a brief second before he threw his head back in a loud laugh. “Oh, he did?” he gasped out a moment later, ignoring the looks being levelled in our direction. “Ignore him, he’s just jealous. Anything looks ‘fun’ to him.”

“Jealous?” Why would Damen be jealous of anyone? It seemed like the outside world worshipped the ground he walked on.

“Because if he’s unhappy with his life, and he wants everyone else to suffer too.”

At my blank stare, Anthony sighed. “Before Bailey, Titus and Damen were best friends. After that, they began to drift apart and he latched onto Bryce. They did everything together up until a few years ago.”

“What happened…” I started to ask, but Anthony had already continued.

“There were issues in the Dubois household, which ended with the Abernathy family’s involvement. They’ve barely been able to stand each other since. As for why he’s jealous, I think it’s because he hates anything that reminds him of what he’s been missing.”

“That’s so…” Stupid. We were really going to have to work on his issues. But that felt like a really mean thing to say out loud. “Insightful.”

“Thanks.” Anthony grinned and pointed to his temple. “I am majoring in the human sciences. I know things.”

“Okay.” I changed the subject—I only had the mental capacity for one emergency at a time. Damen’s pettiness was not one of them. “So back to Miles. Why are you stalking him then?”

“Yes.” Anthony snapped the notebook shut and pointed it at me. “Well, no one really cares where he goes. It only came up because there’s a rumor that he’s working some sort of major spell—people who live at his apartment building have reported erratic behavior and, quite frankly, he’s scaring them. We’ve been trying to monitor.”

“We?” My chest grew tight with tension. “Why wouldn’t someone come to me?”

After all, it was my job to look after Miles. But—since he’d asked so nicely—I’d let him continue with this mysterious thing he’d requested. I even worked hard to control my insecurities, although knowing where he was helped curb my anxiety greatly.

Yet, how could I have failed so miserably?

But come on, he’d only been staying at his place for a week! What in the world could he be up to?

Anthony lowered the notebook slightly and tilted his head. “I am coming to you.”

“Earlier.” I rubbed my temples.

“This isn’t late.” He didn’t seem to understand why I was annoyed. “It’s procedure. We’re not meant to bother any of you until we’re really sure that there’s something to worry about.”

Panic seized me, and I grabbed my chest. “Is there something to worry about?”

Of course there was! People were being frightened out of their homes!

What did they want me to do? Bite him again?

“No, not really.” Anthony shrugged. “Not that I noticed. You just looked bored, so I thought you’d want to help. Especially since you’re his controller. Also, it’s not like we can go to Miles with our concerns about Julian until we figure this out first.”

“Julian?” Now the mood really was turning somber, but the necromancer had seemed fine the last we’d seen each other. “What’s wrong with Julian?” Then, another glaring mystery. “Who is ‘we’?”

“Us.” Anthony gestured to himself. “The officers. It’s our job to look out for the mental and physical health of the entire Xing quintet. We’re also your guards, researchers, and fighters.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to not let my annoyance show. Bryce had said something similar, so it wasn’t entirely new news.

Even though I thought that had more to do with us being siblings.

“Julian?” Now back to that.

Anthony shrugged and looked away guiltily. “I don’t know. He’s always been off, but it’s getting worse. I’d been hoping that with Miles back that…” His words trailed off and my annoyance vanished.

On one hand, the idea of being under observation and babysat was rather insulting. However, even though I didn’t entirely understand it yet, or what responsibilities this role would entail, I did know that the boys and I were something of a figurehead. People would look at me, whether I liked it or not.

It was kind of nice to know that someone was there to have my back.

Besides, that expression wasn’t one of a nosy busy-body—it was of a brother concerned about his sibling.

He was genuinely worried about Julian.

Still… “Is that why Finn was monitoring my web history? Was he even my friend?”

“What?” Anthony blinked, surprise flickering across his features. “What kind of question is that?”

My stomach twisted painfully. I knew it.

He’d never thought of me as a friend at all.

“Some of us might be friends with you, but we’re also more.” Anthony sounded genuinely offended. “You’re not only human, and there’s something about the Xing that makes anyone with abilities want to be near you. People are going to both want to use you and hurt you. Officers are driven to protect. ‘Friendship’ isn’t even remotely close to reality.” Then he sighed, tapping his fingers on the table. “But, no, we don’t generally monitor your web histories. I’m not making excuses for him, but Finn can be excessive when it comes to his methodology. As you can see.”

I could scarcely breathe, but definitely couldn’t describe how I was feeling. “As I can see?”

“How he’s acted with you,” Anthony replied. “Also, bonding with Kiania. Finn is extreme and needs to succeed. There was absolutely no need for him to contract with her, but he did it because it would make him stronger for Damen. Even though he knew he could die.”

“He was going to let a ghost kill me,” I pointed out. This all started because he ignored me when I told him I was being haunted. So really, Finn wasn’t all that attentive. It wasn’t like I hadn’t warned him I was being stalked.

Anthony frowned. “He’s also human, and who knows what he was thinking.”

“Is someone monitoring me now?” I asked, glancing at his notebook. “Are you keeping notes about me in there too? Do you talk to Titus about me?”

He didn’t answer, but his semi-guilty expression told me everything I needed to know. “I don’t like this.” I narrowed my eyes on the book. “The watching and stuff, whatever, I get it. But talking about us…”

“Then finish bonding with everyone.” Anthony leaned over the table, tone deadly serious. “I’m going to be blunt with you. Right now, Julian is going around unchecked, and Damen is almost entirely unhinged. He’s feeding off you and your emotions and has no idea how to handle it. You need Julian to control Damen, but Julian won’t be helpful without Miles. If Julian goes after Damen as he is now, it’ll be a disaster.”

My breath hitched. I knew that sometimes Damen and Julian didn’t get along, but ‘disaster’? “What will happen?”

“Nothing good,” was Anthony’s grim reply. “They’ve already had a history of clashing, and it’s nothing that anyone wants repeated.”

I couldn’t help but ask. “What did they fight about?”

Anthony’s even stare was the only reply needed, and my breath hitched.

Me.

Either now or in the past, I was the reason the two of them went after each other. Could it also be part of the reason why Julian hated onmyoji so much in general?

* * *

“Today is Miles’s first day back on campus, so I’m checking up on him.” Anthony moved past me, pushing open the heavy metal door. “I’m assuming that if he’s here, maybe he won’t miss practice.” Anthony sounded hopeful.

The soccer team had moved to the gymnasium due to the colder weather, and it didn’t take long to spot Miles as he ran alongside his sweaty teammates.

The witch was shirtless again and gracefully weaved around the other players as he took control of the field with effortless movements. His skin, though, was a testament to the level of his excursion, and a slow flush crawled over the base of his neck, creeping toward his face.

My breath caught in my throat—it felt like ages since I’d last seen him. He was, as always, delicious to look at, and that warm feeling was back.

Plus there was the fact that he’d been getting up to some shady nonsense behind my back.

My fist clenched against my thigh. I wasn’t sure if I should be excited or annoyed.

He hadn’t noticed us, and he shouted out another player’s name as he passed the ball. After, he came to a halt, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm, and my attention wandered to the still-pink scar on his left cheek.

Guilt replaced my growing trepidation.

“Oh?” Anthony linked his hands behind his back and peered down at me. Something about the tiny grin on his face made my hackles rise. “You like that? Don’t let your brothers know; they’ll never let you leave the house. They don’t believe you could have a serious sex drive.”

“What?” I pulled back, my sudden intake of breath making me dizzy. “No, I do not!”

Have a sex drive of any kind, I meant.

I did like ‘that’ though—if ‘that’ was referring to Miles.

“It’s okay.” Anthony was still smiling in that annoying way as he inclined his head in Miles’s direction. “Most people find Miles irresistible—it’s part of his nature. He’s just so…” he pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes, as he tried to come up with an apt description. Finally, he decided on, “Good. He’s the most innocent of you five.”

I opened my mouth to protest—because, really, what was that supposed to mean?—before I dropped my finger back to my side.

I studied the witch, who at that moment, was making a rude gesture at another player.

It was true that sometimes he had his not-so-innocent moments, like right now, but Miles was quite good, wasn’t he?

He was much better than me, at any rate.

I could never forget. It was because he was so kind that people tended to take advantage of him. Heck, he even had a restraining order on a rebuffed lover.

“Miles!” A piercing shriek cut through the rest of chirping cheers, and—although they’d barely registered as more than a passing annoyance when we’d first arrived—the gaggle of Miles’s fans finally became too obnoxious to ignore.

There were around a dozen of them—both male and female—and they loomed behind a white card table topped with two orange Gatorade dispensers. Some fans were offering him clothing, but, this time, I had no delusions that it was because of the weather.

I wasn’t that naïve.

We were inside now, and it was rather warm in the crowded room.

I narrowed my eyes at Miles, who was—in my opinion—taking an obscene amount of time just to wipe his face and wrap his ridiculously tiny towel around his broad shoulders. As he slowly made strides to become decent, one woman stumbled free from the crowd, a bundled-up shirt clutched to her chest, as she shyly glided to him.

She came to a stop in front of him, and he paused in his actions to converse with her.

My mood darkened further when the woman blinked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, and held out a blue garment.

The little fool. A true admirer would know that his favorite color was brown. If you were going to inappropriately approach someone, at least have the decency to do it right.

She was about to have her heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces.

“Is your eyebrow twitching?” Anthony gleefully chirped from beside me. “Oh my God, it is! You’re angry! What are you going to do?”

I didn’t even waste my attention on the necromancer. There was no need—nor time—to address how wrong he was.

“Hold this.” I didn’t even look at him as I pushed my bag into his arms. As he fumbled not to drop it, muttering variations of ‘Hey, wait, you can’t just—’, I ignored him.

I could not allow this to stand. If anyone needed to take care of Miles and bring him clothing, it was going to be me.

I cut through the middle of the gymnasium, barely registering that the game was interrupted by my interference. This was more important. Urgent, even. My thoughts roared as she threw the shirt at his face, then giggled, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger.

Why would you throw it? Now it was just going to get dirty with face-sweat.

I’d rolled my sleeves past my elbows before I was even halfway across the room.

Perhaps this was the fabled Heather. Maybe.

To be honest, I’d be sorely disappointed if it were. Miles seemed only mildly put out, not cowering in fear, as he tried to push the clothing back at her. It was not the look of a man terrified of an ex-lover.

But if it wasn’t Heather, he should have already dismissed the interloper.

“Miles.” I moved to his side, crossing my arms as I glared at the other woman. “Who’s your friend?”

The witch jumped and yelped, tossing the offending garment into the air as he spun around. “Bianca!” His face paled and his eyes widened. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Oh…” My short burst of confidence faltered at the panic on his expression. I stepped back, hurt.

Did he not want me here?

“Don’t misunderstand!” Miles’s panic faded, and he grasped my hands. “I’m really glad to see you. I’m just surprised. How did you…” He looked past me, and his fingers tightened over mine. “Oh, Anthony.”

“Hello to you too.” Anthony had finally joined our circle, looking rather relaxed with a purse thrown over his shoulder. “It all worked out. Looks like you needed some help.”

“What are you talking about?” Miles’s voice took on a strange high-pitched tenor. “I do not need—”

“Who is she, Miles?” The now offering-less woman was eyeing me in suspicion, and she was no longer alone as a fellow fan joined her for moral support.

The witch’s face was bright red, and after shooting one last glare at Anthony, he grabbed my elbow, pulling me to his side. It was a good thing too, because now that my anger and hurt faded, the crippling grip of terror was beginning to take shape in my thoughts.

What had I done? What was wrong with me?

I’d been so blinded by jealousy that I’d thrown myself into the spotlight.

“Hello…” Miles paused, addressing the rabble. “Everyone. This is Bianca Dubois.”

“Dubois!” Someone gasped, and the twittering started.

“I knew I recognized her.” “That explains why she’s been drinking all the coffee; they must have a lot of late-night study sessions.” And the last, “She’s so lucky to be married to Professor Dubois. I’d love for him to tutor me every night, all night.”

The bile was thick in my throat—if I didn’t escape soon, I was going to throw up in front of all these people. I wasn’t sure what was worse: their envious looks or the super gross rumors.

As if anyone would need to study anything with Bryce. I might not loathe him anymore, but I couldn’t deny that his performance in the classroom had been lackluster.

How was it possible for a room to be both hot and cold?

“So, please, be nice to her,” Miles was saying, and my face grew even warmer.

While it was kind of him to intercede on my behalf, why did this feel so wrong?

What was I doing here again?

“Right, cool. Whatever.” The shirt-girl picked up the fallen garment off the dirty concrete floor and held it back out. “Anyway, will you accept this? I’m free tonight, and I already know there’s no strings attached.”

My eyebrow twitched as the heat fled from my face. Oh… right.

Tonight? No strings?

I knew exactly what was going on. I’d read about situations like this. Humans and penguins were not so different after all, and our feathered cold-weather friends frequently exchanged rocks—since they didn’t wear shirts—as payment for future sexual entanglements.

The correlation was not lost on me.

“No.” I stepped in front of Miles and smacked at the girl’s hands. “Miles will not be getting laid tonight.” Or ever.

Not so long as I could help it.

She pulled her hand to her chest, holding it, as she shot me a disbelieving look. “Who are you to—”

“This goes for all of you.” I pointed at her first, then waved my hand in a circle, to include the now-staring mass. The crowd seemed to grow larger, but that was unimportant. “You claim to love Miles, but how can you call yourselves his fans when you’re acting like this?”

Shirt-girl lowered her arms, eyebrows drawing together as her bright blue eyes flashed with annoyance. “What do you mean?”

I stepped back, pressing my hand against Miles. His heart was racing, and his breath tight, but he made no move to help me.

I took his silence as acceptance.

“If you truly cared about him—” like me, I thought but didn’t add, “—you’d appreciate how your constant hovering can make it hard for a man to succeed.”

The audacity of the open-mouthed group made my ire grow stronger. He was haunted by stalkers. Probably more than we even knew, since he was generally too kind to complain. How in the world could anyone concentrate on competitive sports while people were screaming at them?

It required great focus to defeat the enemy. Every shout of his name was a strike that hammered against his nerves. How could their presence not be anything but distracting?

Perhaps this was why he was skipping his obligations. This… Must be related to the project that made him hide in his own apartment.

He was writing, I was sure of it. Lawyers did write a lot. If he was unable to focus on his proposal—probably for something groundbreaking meant to save the environment—then the world would miss out on his brightest ideas.

He had to go to class, and he had to study. Sports, also, were an important part of academic achievement for some. Not for me, perhaps, but other people who liked such things might find them fulfilling.

Surely, this was a part of his dream.

“Hey, Bianca.” His stomach pressed against my back as he leaned into me, whispering in my ear. “It’s really okay. I don’t need—”

No. I shook my head, realizing that I’d been silent a moment too long. I refused to allow anyone to stand in the way of his ambition.

Besides, no one else was allowed to blush when they looked at him.

“Do we… bother you?” Shirt-girl stepped forward, glancing at Miles. Her round eyes were innocently wide and watery. “But… I thought you belonged to everyone?”

My eyebrow twitched in annoyance. My violent daydreams were becoming more alarming. Right now, for example, I wanted to rip off this female’s head. It’d been a rather common feeling as of late.

But…

Pummeling these people to a pulp would not solve the immediate problem. I had to get them to leave Miles alone, by their own design, otherwise they’d become more determined than before. They had to want to leave him.

It was the only way to ensure long term success.

“What’s your name?” I waved my hand in front of her, forcing her to look at me.

She blinked once, then her eyes met mine. For an instant, she seemed almost defiant, but then something in her posture shifted. The tense line of her shoulders softened, and her mouth opened.

Well, that was weird, but at least it worked to get her attention.

“H-Hailey?” Her response came out as a question.

“It’s nice to meet you, Hailey.” My ears buzzed as I reached for her hand, covering her thin fingers with my own.

She was shaking, or maybe it was me. I wasn’t used to touching people outside of my small group, but I had no other choice.

“You seem to be very kind and smart,” I told her, slightly unnerved by the way her attention remained fixated on my face. But she did bring him a shirt and offered herself to him, so I had to give her some credit.

She had good taste.

“And you’re really pretty too,” I added.

Hailey’s cheeks dusted over in a blush. “T-thank you.”

“But I don’t understand why you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak,” I continued. “Why are you chasing after someone you know you can’t have? You’re better than this. All of you are.”

“But it’s Miles,” she offered in a shaky voice, as if that was any explanation. “I thought that, maybe…”

“Miles has a great destiny.” I fought the urge to squeeze her hand. It might be too much. “You know it can’t happen between you two, but why worry? There are plenty of other fish in the sea.” The soccer game had halted entirely, and Miles’s teammates were watching in focused interest.

“That guy there.” I inclined my head toward a random, sour-faced, spiky-haired player. I wasn’t sure what possessed me to even throw this out there, especially because I was pretty sure this was the dude Miles had punched once, but I was getting a positive feeling from this match. “He seems nice.”

“Maybe,” she breathed, not even looking at the man.

Okay… I pursed my lips. So perhaps my matchmaking skills needed some brushing up. “And you…” My thoughts scrambled to find another distraction. Somewhere else for her to focus her energy. “You don’t even need a boyfriend, if you don’t want one.”

Her eyes widened. “I… don’t?”

Why did it sound like she’d never considered this before?

“Of course not.” This was it! Our fingers had stopped shaking now—I’d finally found something that resonated with her. “Men are awful most of the time anyway. Instead of wasting your time and energy, let them come to you while you go out there and live your best life.”

“But…” She still seemed doubtful. “What should I do all day?”

“Whatever you want! After your schoolwork, of course.” Lord knew I had plans. I still had to learn to ride in a sidecar, and maybe drive a motorcycle, and skydiving was beginning to sound appealing—

Wait, maybe not skydiving. That seemed oddly foreboding.

“The important thing is never to let anyone, including me, tell you what to do. But—” And now here comes the kicker. “—if you love Miles, you’ll let him go. Everyone will, for your own sake and his. You’re in college. It’s the time to work on you and have fun, and to let Miles focus on himself so he can make the world a better place.”

“I love you.” Hailey’s face was completely red now, and as soon as she spoke, she pulled her hands back and covered her cheeks, dropping the shirt to the floor. “I mean—” She shook her head. “—you’re totally right. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. It’s so obvious.”

“So obvious!” Her friend, who’d been next to us the whole time, was also staring at me with abject fascination.

As was the rest of the room.

A pressure slammed against my chest as realization struck me, and I backed away from the girls, swaying slightly. I felt sick as the true horror of what just happened raced in circles in my head.

What the hell was that? My mind screamed, but in my heart, I knew.

I’d just given a completely cheesy speech in front of almost a million witnesses.

All without fainting.

I bumped against something warm and solid, and a rough hand closed down over my shoulder. I twisted my upper body, glancing up.

Miles.

“Time to go,” he said, taking one look at my face. His shy nature had disappeared. He was all stoic seriousness and concern as his fingers wrapped around my left elbow. “And stop laughing,” he hissed at Anthony.

The necromancer was, indeed, failing terribly in concealing his amusement. His shoulders were hunched forward, and though he’d held his hand over his mouth, he couldn’t hide the smile.

“Relax.” Anthony looked up, wiping the corner of his eye with a crooked finger. “It worked; they’re gone now anyway, and they’ll leave you alone. You should thank me.”

It was only at his statement that I realized it was true, the gymnasium had emptied beside the three of us.

“It’s not like anyone is going to think enough to be suspicious.” Anthony shrugged. “No one was even aware enough to argue. She was so pissed she entranced the whole room.”

Entranced? I glanced between the two of them, my head still spinning.

“You moron!” Miles’s touch dropped from my arm and he brushed past me, grabbing the front of Anthony’s hoodie as he shook the necromancer. “There’s a fae on my team!”

“What?” Anthony’s mirth vanished within a breath, and he glanced past Miles, around the empty room, without fear of the witch’s threatening hold. “Who?”

“Kent.”

Anthony’s brows drew together, seemingly unimpressed by Miles’s answer. “Kent… who?”

“Kent…” Miles’s forehead wrinkled as his face reddened. “Kent… I don’t know his last name! The water boy!”

“What do you need a water boy for?” Anthony pushed at Miles’s fist. “That’s on you then. You could have stopped her at any time. Besides, stop stressing. If he’s not skilled enough to be on the team, he wouldn’t be strong enough to withstand it. I’m sure he’s as taken as the rest of them.”

“I couldn’t stop her without causing a scene! And I’m not going to assume he was unaffected; he’s fae.” Miles shook Anthony once more and then let him go with a push, causing the necromancer to stumble. “Go take care of him.”

“But you don’t even know his last name!” Anthony was rubbing at his chest and, for the first time, seemed mildly panicked. “How am I supposed to—”

“I don’t care. If you need help, get Bryce or Brayden. They know the fae here.” I’d rarely heard this firmer, more unforgiving side of Miles. He stood, arms crossed, an unmovable and thunderous expression over his face. “Just make sure he doesn’t talk.”

Anthony’s expression darkened. “Fuck you, man.” He placed my tote on the floor and swung his own bag over his shoulder. To my utmost surprise, he stomped through the large metal doors without further argument.

My bravado had long since faded. I was trembling as fear of the unknown filled my thoughts with terrifying scenarios. “What’s going—”

But I didn’t get a chance to complete my question. The second the doors slammed closed, Miles crushed me to him as he took three large steps forward. He only stopped when my back was pressed against the side of the bleachers.

“Miles…?” My words wavered as my skin tingled. His eyes were darker than usual, almost a dark-chocolate, and the heated look he was giving me almost caused me to melt into a puddle at his feet.

I didn’t, obviously. Instead, I remained trapped with the stand pressed against my back, the cool, floor-length windows to my left, and the unmovable force of the man in front of me.

But what was he so worked up about?

“That was so hot.” Miles pressed his forearm into space above my head as he leaned in. His eyes were dark, and breath hot, as he grasped my chin in his other hand. He nudged my face up as he whispered in my ear, “Putain, tu m'allumes tellement.”

My pulse soared, the room seemed to shrink as the shadows from the rustling branches outside moved over his massively cut figure. I had no idea what he was saying, but I didn’t think it was cursing and blasphemy this time.

Whatever this feeling was, it was addicting.

“Say my name,” he demanded.

“Miles…” I started, but his mouth pressed against mine.

An explosion of light flashed behind my eyelids, and a tingle shot up my spine. A warm feeling spread over my skin, starting from the center of my chest and down my arms and my legs, as he moved closer to me. He pressed his tongue over the seam of my mouth, demanding entrance, and I was too weak to protest even if I’d wanted.

And I didn’t want to.

My focus shattered into fragments of sensation as his tongue moved against mine. His body was broad and hard, and he moved his hand from my face, spreading his fingers open across my back as he effortlessly lifted me further from the ground until our stomachs were touching.

I might have slid down again—although I doubted it because there wasn’t even an inch of space between us—but he pushed his thigh in between my legs to hold me in place.

Something in the back of my mind warned me that I should be scared, and also that this really wasn’t the ideal location for this sort of encounter, but my logical side was drowned by these overwhelming sensations.

He began to pull away and, to my utmost embarrassment, I whined against his mouth. But the sound—and my disappointment—became a gasp as his kisses continued to trace over the line of my jaw. My head was spinning—from him, or me, I couldn’t tell—as he nibbled at my throat, stopping every so often to whisper something French in a low, husky voice.

“Bianca.” Even the way my name rolled off his tongue seemed different. It was sweet and lovely, and I felt lighter, weightless, as his thumb moved in circles over the small of my back. I pressed myself into him, hooking my leg around his waist, in an effort to stay grounded.

“I like it when you manipulate people.” Miles sucked on the skin under my jaw.

I sucked in a breath—that sounded so very wrong. I never manipulated anyone. If he was referring to the incident just now, I’d only been stating a fact.

A fact that also happened to ensure that they leave my witch alone. It was a win for everyone.

“And I love that you get jealous,” he added, scraping his teeth lightly against the hollow of my throat. It was getting harder and harder to breathe—to think.

Well, almost.

I was still lucid enough to register this insult.

I reached for the back of his hair—it was smooth and silky under my fingertips—not at all tangled despite his unbrushed hairstyle.

“I’m… not… jealous…” My voice sounded strange and breathy, and I twisted my fingers through the messy locks, trying to hold on. And, maybe, to hurt him a little bit too.

He released a throaty laugh against my ear and nipped at my earlobe. “You definitely are. Don’t forget, I can feel you, and you were tight with anger.”

Darn. I did forget. This was rather annoying. “Stop eating me.”

“I can’t.” He pressed his cheek against mine, slowing down his assault even though we remained wrapped around each other. “You like it.”

I was off-balance and lost, and the feeling deepened as my racing heart finally began to calm.

“But you’re also nervous,” Miles continued, moving his face back away slightly. His deep eyes sought out mine. “We’ve gone too far already. It’s a good thing Bryce is about to stop us.”

I blinked at him, my thoughts still hazy and my head floating. “Huh?”

The double doorway slammed open, and the bright hallway lights spilled into the gymnasium. So it took a second to make out Damen and Bryce standing at the entrance, their faces filled with panic.

“Oh?” Miles mused almost silently. “They must have been hanging out.”

Damen spotted the two of us instantly. Fear melted into surprise, and his dark expression vanished as a look of great curiosity took its place.

Meanwhile, Bryce remained slow on the uptake.

“Montrone!” His voice was rife with anger as he stormed into the room. “Why do you have Anthony and Brayden…” Bryce’s tirade faded off, and he stopped walking as he finally spotted the two of us. “What…”

But his shock only lasted a short second. His eyes widened as he stalked toward us, glowering. “What the hell is this?” The dimple in his chin was pale compared to his reddening complexion, and his voice was more shrill than usual. “Get away from her!”

“Oh, don’t have a conniption,” Damen replied, crossing his arms as he lazily strolled after him. “It’s only an innocent embrace.”

Bryce had now reached us and was narrowing his eyes at my leg—which happened to be wrapped around Miles’s waist. My skirt, of course, had risen to questionable heights during our encounter, and the opaque lace tops of my dark thigh-high stockings were clearly visible.

Bryce’s jaw twitched. “That is not innocent.”

My senses filled with dread as my grip around Miles went lax.

“Either way, Bianca’s perfectly capable of making her own decisions. She doesn’t need an overbearing brother around meddling in these affairs.” Damen shrugged, pushing past Bryce. He was eerily calm, which was exactly what I needed at the moment.

Though I couldn’t help but feel it might not last.

Damen moved closer to us. “Besides that, what’s going on?”

Miles sighed, setting me back onto my feet. But instead of pushing me away, he kept his hand around my waist, holding me steadily against him as I regained my balance.

But before Miles could respond, Bryce was already off on another tirade. “Don’t give me that shit.” He pointed at Miles. “He should understand; he has a sister too! I expect more from him. He’d want to know if she was out there making bad decisions with people I have to look at every day.”

I was still in a daze, but something nagged at me.

His sister…

Miles’s sister.

“Colette is the least of my concerns.” Miles rolled his eyes. “She wants nothing to do with this world, so I don’t have to worry about her making ‘bad decisions’ with anyone I know.”

Crap. I choked as recollection hit: Miles had no idea that Damen and Colette were a thing.

And then there was Damen, lazily observing the conversation without an ounce of guilt. In fact, the man hadn’t even flinched at Miles’s statement. Unlike me.

My stomach was roiling. But why…

Why did I feel bad? This had nothing to do with me!

Miles’s lazy grip on my waist became stronger, and he froze, glancing down at me. “Bianca?” he asked, concern heavy in his voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Fine…”

No, no, no! I did not want to become a party in Damen’s indiscretions. But now Miles was hovering, and Bryce, appearing slightly-less disheveled, was watching in muted curiosity.

Meanwhile, the onmyoji was as serene as could be. Damen lazily touched his glasses, looking quite put together in his pressed black shirt and burgundy slacks, as he stared at me with a measured coolness. It was like he was daring me to spill the beans.

Jerk. I should say something, I should ruin his day.

But he knew I wouldn’t—those unruffled gray eyes watched me with a measured confidence. He was assured of my loyalty.

I was going to murder him.

Or even better, I’d find a way to make him confess. Mark my words, he’d be the one to tell Miles that he’d slept with his sister.

“Are you sick?” Miles pressed the back of his hand over my forehead and cheeks. “Did we go too far—”

“No!” My throat was closing in panic. Damen raised his eyebrow knowingly, and my annoyance with him spread. “Just cramps.”

“Oh…” Miles frowned, and I knew he didn’t believe me. He’d be able to tell that the crippling pain had already passed. But Miles was innocent and kind, and in a true, helpful, manner, offered me an out, “or maybe you used too much magic?”

This, at least, was enough to pull Damen out of his infuriatingly nonchalant mood.

His lazy posture stiffened, and his focus snapped to Miles. “What do you mean?” he asked. “Is this why you asked Brayden and Anthony to kill your water boy?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Bryce rebutted. “There’s no fae at this school named Kent.”

“I never said kill anyone.” Miles held up his hand, taking offense. “And I know there’s nobody named Kent. We don’t even have a water boy.”

“You don’t have…” Bryce narrowed his eyes, suspicion lacing his tone. He stepped back, now gazing at the witch in wariness. “Did you lie?”

Miles grinned, and my skin prickled as his arm brushed over mine. A trill of humor tickled at my senses, and Miles twisted his fingers through mine. “I needed a minute with Bianca,” he told Bryce, even though he was now looking at me. “And Anthony pissed me off.”

My breath seized as his adoring stare pressed into me.

“That’s enough—” Bryce’s sharp command rang through the room, but his tirade—and motion to karate chop the two of us apart—was cut short at Damen’s interception.

“I’m sorry I missed it,” the onmyoji said, glancing between the two of us. His smile was genuine once more, and my breath caught at the unexpected weight of it.

This man was going to kill me with his mood swings.

“But good job,” he added, touching the ends of my hair. “It means you’re growing. It’s really very good.”

“I know!” Miles’s chest swelled and his eyes shone as he continued to stare down at me. “Isn’t it addicting?”

My skinned hummed as their praise surrounded me, although I wasn’t even entirely sure what I’d done, or how I’d done it. I bit my lip and touched my toe against the floor.

“Thanks…” I breathed, feeling shy.

Why were there butterflies in my stomach? I pulled at a lock of my hair, twisting it around my finger as I glanced between the two men.

Why was it getting hotter?

“What in the world are you—” Bryce began, looking between the three of us in frustration, but his question ended rather abruptly. His annoyed, lax posture shifted, and his features snapped to sharp alertness.

“You cast an enchantment,” he told me, his tone almost accusing.

“I guess?” I tried to focus on him. Anything to distract me from the stifling way Miles and Damen were watching me. They seemed to be larger than normal, or maybe I was smaller? But, anyway, it was beginning to feel a bit suffocating.

“You can end it now,” Bryce said. “They can’t stop acting like fools until you do.”

I released Miles’s hand, although he reached out and trailed his finger along my elbow instead, and I pressed both my hands to my mouth. Damen moved to my other side, his hair-grooming technique growing stronger and really not quite gentle.

I started at Bryce, not entirely panicked yet, but definitely beginning to lose the strange numb serenity that had previously taken over. “I-I don’t know how…”

My brother was watching me, expectant. But why? What was he waiting for? It was getting harder to breathe, and Damen and Miles were getting strangely quiet and imposing.

I tried to implore him quietly. I didn’t know what I was doing, but he might.

Help me.

Bryce sucked in a breath, shoulders squaring, as his attention moved from my face to the two men beside me. I could have sworn his lips were quivering in excitement—but that could also have been my overactive imagination lost in a moment of panic—because when he moved, grabbing my arm and pulling me to him, his expression was the picture of seriousness.

“Hey!” Damen rounded on Bryce. “Why did you—”

Bryce went after Damen first, as the onmyoji was the quickest to respond to my sudden disappearance. The bespectacled warrior moved more slowly than usual, and Bryce had already side-stepped him, crashing his elbow into his back all in the time it took for the witch to shake his head.

The even sound of Damen crashing into the floor didn’t cause Miles’s expression to refocus entirely. He blinked once, then rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m impressed that you’ve held on this long, Miles,” Bryce said, moving to a defensive position between the two of us. The way he emphasized Miles’s name caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand. “You even had the foresight to send Anthony to get one of us. Because of that, I’ll give you the chance to back away before I’m forced to knock some sense into you.”

“Oh, shut up.” Miles dropped his hand back to his side and clenched his fist. The previous look of confusion had vanished. “Don’t try to use your magic on me. I only want to hold her hand.”

“Fuck you,” Damen responded—back on his feet before Bryce could even open his mouth. But it was Miles he was addressing. “You’ve been with her enough. It’s my turn now.”

“Shove off, she likes me better. She likes everyone better than you.” The witch rounded on the onmyoji. “Besides, sharing was your idea. Just get over it.”

“I didn’t think it would work out that way!” Damen sounded like a petulant child, but the threatening sight of him slowly rolled up the fabric of his sleeves and was anything but harmless. “She’s not supposed to like you more.”

“Well, she does.” Miles held his arms in front of him, crouching down in a fighting stance. “It’s your own fault. It’s karma after treating her like shit for thousands of years. Besides, you haven’t learned a thing: you’d have a better chance if you stopped being so fake.”

The two of them lunged toward each other, colliding in a flurry of fists.

I gasped, the echo of fight and humming receding from my ears, and moved to them, but my progress was halted by Bryce, who thrust his arm out in front of my face.

“Let them go.” Bryce was unperturbed at the violent display.

I gripped his sleeve tightly. “But isn’t this my fault?”

“Sure.” Bryce shrugged and the corner of his mouth lifted once more. “Your quintet will always be affected while you’re using an enchantment. But they’re only acting on impulses they’ve been suppressing. Miles would never go after Damen otherwise. But Damen’s been begging for someone to kick his ass, and it’s better that it’s Miles than Julian.”

“Tell me how to stop it.” I pulled at Bryce’s shirt. “I don’t want them to fight!”

Bryce sighed, throwing another long-suffering look at the two brawling men. “You’ve already stopped. The second they started brawling. But they’re involved now. I can jump in, if you want. Can I break Damen’s nose? That should get his attention.”

He sounded almost thrilled at the prospect.

“No!” I half-covered my eyes as Damen swung his fist at Miles, just barely missing the witch, then narrowly sidestepped Miles’s attempt to take out his left knee. “There are more peaceful ways of getting their attention.”

“Please don’t do anything idiotic.”

“They won’t hurt me.” I ignored him, ducking under Bryce’s arm and out of reach from his grasping fingers, and made a beeline right to the onmyoji and witch.

In retrospect, there were a number of good distractions that I could have chosen. For example, I could have swooned dramatically, started crying, or even thrown the soccer ball at their heads. Another option, of course, would be to announce the presence of a ghost—Miles, at least, would have been on top of things then.

However, logic was not the strongest instinct at the moment. Witnessing them going after each other in this way…

It was impossible to think clearly.

Guilt and worry flooded through me, and my vision tunneled. I had to prevent them from hurting each other.

And this sort of thing always worked in the movies.

“Stop!” I slipped into the small space between them during a short reprieve as they readied themselves for another attack. Throwing my arms out, I touched them both, hoping that the contact might help.

The corner of Miles’s mouth was slightly scraped already, as he’d been hit at least once, and his arms were protecting his torso. However, the instant my fingers brushed over his skin, the witch froze. His posture relaxed as the feral anger in his eyes disappeared.

Damen, on the other hand…

The onmyoji didn’t notice my hand on his. He’d lost his glasses somewhere during the fight, but that didn’t slow him down. His eyes blazed with unbridled fury as Miles held his entire focus.

It wasn’t going to work.

Every second seemed frozen in time, and every movement lingered forever.

I began to raise my hands to cover my head, but I wasn’t fast enough, and I’d barely squeezed my eyes shut, when the blunt force of his fist slammed into my jaw.

The impact threw me off my feet, and I crashed into Miles before falling onto the hard concrete floor.

I couldn’t breathe, and I lost sense of time and place while I lay on the ground, hands pressed against my mouth, in both an effort to hold back the sound of my pain and to make it go away.

Gosh, he hit hard.

“Bianca!” Miles touched my shoulder but, without thinking, I flinched. The weight vanished instantly.

It felt like cotton balls had been stuffed into my ears, and the already heavy atmosphere grew even thicker.

“Fucking move.” Damen’s curse sounded loud against the muffled arguments, and arms surrounded me, picking me up off the floor and into someone’s lap. I groaned despite myself, whimpering. My body curled tighter as I fought to keep the nausea at bay.

“Put her down,” Bryce ordered somewhere in the background, tone livid.

But his demands were cut short as Damen’s chest rumbled against my ear. “Don’t even try it right now.”

I stiffened; my dread becoming an almost-tangible thing.

“Bianca?” Damen’s rough, shaking hand pressed against the back of my head.

I was nauseous with fear, but then I felt terrible about feeling this way.

It was an accident.

“Baby, are you okay?” he asked. His voice was heavy with strife and self-loathing, but that did little to loosen the knot in my stomach.

An accident, an accident.

He’d just been angry and didn’t see me.

He’d been so angry that he couldn’t even take in his surroundings.

Did that happen often?

It was my fault, though. I shouldn’t have gotten involved.

“Let me see.” He cradled me against him, holding me with one arm as he pulled at my hands. “Come on.” His huge fingers wrapped around my knuckles, dragging my hand away from my face.

But what if it happened again?

“Let me…” Rainbow spots merged into concerned gray, and the rest of Damen’s demands fell unspoken into the air.

It was too soon. I hadn’t had time to recompose myself. Heck, it was difficult to think past my throbbing lip and the events leading up to it.

However, watching the confident, yet slightly panicked, expression on Damen’s face shift into something else entirely was enough to distract me.

“Hey…” I meant to sound reassuring, but my voice came out broken and pained—it hurt to open my mouth, and I winced as I spoke.

I could literally see him pulling away—shutting down emotionally. And as his passion fizzled, a cold sweat began to break out on the back of my neck. It was impossible to read him. My weakness had solidified whatever ridiculous thing he was thinking up.

His eyes darkened, attention lingering on my mouth, before he stood, holding me with a gentleness that didn’t quite match his suddenly cold mood.

“Here,” he said, pushing me onto Miles. The witch took me without argument, and I fell against him, hands reflexively coming up to cradle my face. “She can’t be with me.”

“D-Damen!” The panic choked at me as the pain retreated—no doubt thanks to Miles. But it was enough to help me think clearly.

He couldn’t run away. He couldn’t.

But as he touched the bridge of his nose, as if he expected to find his glasses there, my focus remained fixated on his hand.

It was an accident.

If we left things as they were now, nothing would ever be the same.

But Damen ignored me and Miles’s sharp protest. He stalked from the gymnasium, slamming the door behind him.

“Here.” Miles, apparently, had decided to table his concern for Damen. He’d moved us to the bleachers and set me gingerly on a bench before he fell to his knees.

“Let me see,” he said, pulling my hands from my face and guiding them to rest in my lap. His form swayed in the corner of my vision while my attention remained captured by the recently abandoned doorway. “It’s bleeding,” Miles pointed out, grabbing a clean towel from a nearby pile, then he addressed Bryce, calling over his shoulder. “Hand me that water.”

I’d forgotten about him.

Bryce stood still as a statue some feet away, watching me, and not so much perturbed by Damen’s departure or Miles’s hovering. However, a short moment after Miles’s order, the fae man’s stoic expression fell, and he sighed as he stalked to the folding table and snatched up a water bottle, tossing it in the witch’s direction.

“I told you not to do anything stupid,” he lectured.

“I-I’m sorry.”

Bryce narrowed his eyes as Miles touched the cloth against my face, watching for my reaction. But at the moment I was too concerned about Damen to worry.

My muscles were tense as I struggled to understand Damen’s reaction. “D-do you think h-he’s angry at m-me?”

Damen had been super angry once before, when I didn’t listen to him when he fought the hyenas. And he wasn’t thrilled when I jumped between him and the Snallygaster too. He told me to never get involved.

But this was the first time I’d ever gotten hurt, and from his own hand too.

He was probably beyond livid with me.

“Damen?” Miles asked mildly, pressing the towel to my lip. His tension had vanished, but his eyes still moved over my face warily. “Nah. There’s absolutely no reason to be angry at you. He’s upset with himself.”

“But…” My attention wandered back to where he’d disappeared. He’d walked away, again. And I couldn’t get past the feeling that there was a permanence to it this time.

“He’s a lonely person,” I whispered, for the first time telling someone my theory about Damen out loud. Miles’s movements paused at my statement, and he raised his eyebrow, giving me a doubtful look.

Was I the only one who could see it?

“He acts the way he does because he wants attention. He needs to be loved and admired. He lashes out when he feels like he’s losing control because he doesn’t know what else to do,” I told him; my breath was tight at the thought. “He crossed a line, and probably has no idea how to make it better. He won’t stop running away, especially if he’s ashamed.”

In fact, he was a lot like me in that regard.

“He needs someone to talk to him.” I should go after him, but he wasn’t in a good mental place. What if he was still mad? Even understanding this about Damen, I was mortified to admit that I was scared.

Bryce groaned, rolling his eyes as his posture relaxed. “Fine.”

I glanced at him. ‘Fine,’ what?

“I’ll go be his friend again,” he answered, sounding put out.

“Wait…” I pushed on Miles’s shoulder, holding out my hand to Bryce. But he was already stalking away.

Friends, again?

Why did my chest hurt at the thought?

I didn’t want Damen to feel lonely, but that wasn’t what I asked for. If Damen was friends with Bryce, then where did that leave me?