Page 86 of Princess of Thieves

He frowns. “What do you...”

“The taxes are paid,” I say, to everyone. “I made sure of it.”

They stare at me, disbelief and confusion etched on their faces.

“You didn’t...” Tuck whispers.

“Your inheritance,” LJ says.

I nod.

Will, in spite of it all, breaks into a grin. “The little vigilante. So what, you just handed out cash?”

I shrug, suddenly feeling sheepish. “Basically.” My face feels hot. I still can’t meet Rob’s eyes. I explain as quickly as I can how I pulled it off: the Mustang, the ATMs, the address list.

“Enough.” It’s Rob, his pacing stopped and his voice commanding. He still won’t look at me. “I’m done with this discussion. Zayn, you can stay here. As long as you need. The rest of this shit...” He blows out a hard breath.

“Let me think about it.”

And with that, he stalks off.

Zayn looks around awkwardly, like we’re one big dysfunctional family and he’s just watched a particularly charged Thanksgiving argument.

But before he can respond, Will’s eyebrow shoots up, his lips twitching into a grin.

“Well, welcome to the clubhouse. Just hope you’re a deep sleeper.”

Zayn frowns. “Yeah? Why?”

Will’s grin widens, and he nods at me. “Bit of a screamer, that one.”

THE LIBRARY SMELLSlike old paper and dust, a scent that settles in the back of my throat as I sit cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by a mess of books. Tuck really went all out with his research; I’ve got everything from ancient spell books, their cracked leather covers barely hanging on, to ridiculous new-age paperbacks plastered with cosmic nebulas and vague promises about “unlocking the energy within.” It would almost be laughable if I weren’t sitting here trying to unlock some mystical energy myself.

I skim a page about channeling power through the palms, my fingers tracing the delicate sketches of hands with energy radiating from them like sunbeams. The key, apparently, is to tap into the dizziness, the strange swooning spells I’ve always had—only this time, instead of fighting it, I need to push the energy forward. Control it.

The books aren’t much help in explaininghowto do that. It’s like trying to teach someone how to move a muscle they didn’t know existed.

I glance over at the line of withered plants Tuck brought me. Some are shriveled, others browned, all on their last legs of life. They look hopeless, but that’s the point. I don’t have anyinjured people to practice on, and I’m definitely not about to stab someone for the sake of honing my skills. So, plants it is.

I close my eyes and try to channel that strange tingling dizziness, the one that usually leaves me feeling weak. I let it build, swirling in my chest, and then I try to push it through my arms and into my hands. I press my palms against the first plant, a sad little fern, and focus.

Nothing happens.

I push harder, and for a moment, the energy feels like it’s crackling under my skin. Then, with a sudden release, the plant crumples entirely, every last leaf flattening under my hands.Well, that’s one way to kill a plant.

I sigh, wipe my palms on my jeans, and move to the next one. A small, dried-out daisy.Okay, Maren, focus.I close my eyes again, summon the energy, and press my hands gently against the stem. A single leaf twitches and perks up, almost imperceptibly. It’s not much, but it’s something.

And I need to dosomething.

The whole house has been tense since the confrontation at the pool, with only distant footsteps through the hallways and no one speaking to each other, and I can’t take it. Can’t sit still and can’tnotdo something.

Encouraged, I try again with the next plant, a little bonsai that looks more dead than alive. I focus harder, guiding the energy carefully, slowly. This time, the change is immediate. I feel the plant drink in the energy, its color returning, the leaves regaining their shape and standing tall again. I stare, awestruck, as life floods back into the bonsai.

Holy shit. I actually did it.

I sit back on my heels, breathless. The wave of exhaustion that hits afterward is something fierce, though. Healing really does take it out of me. I shove a few books out of the way, leaning back against the base of the couch, feeling my heartbeat settle.

Maybe I’ve done enough for one day. Both powers-wise and...everything-wise.

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