Page 101 of Ashes and Lilies
“Don’t say stupid stuff!” I flexed my fingers as I called after him. My heart was pounding as embarrassment flooded through me. Anthony glanced between us before he followed Finn. But outside of that, I couldn’t bear to look at anyone else.
“Bianca,” Julian said, moving beside me and taking Finn’s abandoned space. “Can I see your arm?”
“What?” I jumped at his nearness and closed my hand over my wrist. “W-why?”
He touched my hand. “Just for my own peace of mind?” he asked. “Please.”
I normally would have said yes. However, there was something in his demeanor—in the way that he, Damen, and Titus were watching me—that I did not like.
Anger, I expected. Or, at the very least, annoyance.
But why would theypityme?
I despised those concerned looks. It reminded me of my childhoodwhen I was asked to talk to strange adults in bright, glass rooms.
At least this time, I knew the reason behind the expression.
I’d only proven further that I was not on their level.
“N-no,” I said, pulling away from Julian’s touch. I moved to the only one in my quintet who still believed in me.
“Hey,” I said, grabbing Miles’s hand. “Are—are you okay now?”
Miles blinked as he looked at me. “Huh?”
I bit my bottom lip. It must have worked. I had kept my promise to ensure his safety. “You’re not afraid anymore, right?” I asked him. “The ghost hardly even noticed you.”
“What are you talking about?” Miles crossed his arms over his chest. “That ghost was terrible. I hate them even morenow!”
“Actually,” Brayden cut in, “James was mentally compromised. Bianca was right to step in. James was terrified of his father, and Edward killed him after Rosalie died because he couldn’t function. He wasn’t evil. His entire world had imploded.”
I glanced at Brayden, who shrugged.
“I told you; empaths can sometimessee memories too. Thank you for relying on me.”
My cheeks burned, and I looked away. “R-right…”
“That doesn’t change anything,” Miles said. “I still don’t like them, but maybe this was the right call.”
Still, my stomach sank as I pet his arm. “At least you were able to practice,” I told him. “Soon, you’ll be as good as the witches on the TV show.”
“I told you, they’re fake!” Miles protested.
He’d left his half-empty bag of salt near where he’d sat during the ritual, and I picked it up.
“Don’t forget this,” I said, waiting for him to take it from me. “Foryou to add to your collection. And—” I grabbed his hand, and he allowed me to turn his wrist until his palm was face up. I picked up some dirt from where James had been standing when he vanished.
“This too,” I told him, pouring the light, grainy soil into his cupped hand. “Maybe you’ll find it useful one day.”
“Oh, um,” Miles was bright red. “Thanks.”
I stepped away—he could figure out how to transport his own present—and turned to leave.
But no one came after me.
My braid fell over my shoulder as I looked back, noting the silent queries from the rest of the group. “Are you coming?” I asked, focusing on Damen. If he wasn’t going to lecture me, then there was really no reason to stay here any longer.
Damen touched his temple before he finally spoke, “Yes.” His features were torn with indecision as if the matter might not be settled after all, but then he shook his head. “Let’s go back,” he agreed. “It’s too late to accomplish anything further tonight.”
