Page 69 of Ashes and Lilies
My earlier talk with Finn replayed in my thoughts.
“M-maybe,” I said, allowing my shoulders to slump. I’d been avoiding this, but eventually, I would have to figure out what to do about my parents. “But maybe not? We probably would have heard something if that was the case.”
“I could talk to Jin,” Miles said, looking between us before his gaze lingered on Maria. “He’s the last one in your quintet that doesn’t know about Bianca yet.”
“You can trust him,” Maria told him. “And Hanah, too, if you want to include other Officers. She doesn’t talk to her parents.”
“Okay.” Miles nodded once more, seemingly having made up his mind.
“Should—” I began, hesitant. Everyone looked so serious, the light atmosphere of the evening extinguished. I glanced between them, willing my nerves to calm and my heartbeat to slow, as I asked, “Should I be worried? Those are all witches, right?”
It was Miles who rushed to reassure me first.
“Yes,” he said. He sat beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “They are all witches—Hanah and Jin are two ofmy Officers from this generation. Jonathon and Abigail are Proxies from the Paragon generation, but because we’re not sure what exactly happened with your adoption and Finn, it’s probably best not to rely on them until we know more. We’re trying to keep the circle that knows who you are small. But don’t worry, Jin and Hanah are far more advanced than me; they’ll know how to help.”
Yet another thing I didn’t understand was why Miles’s underlings were stronger than him. He was the Earth Xing—the master witch—which was supposed to make him the most powerful.
Did this mean that, theoretically, the Xing wasn’t automatically the greatest?
Could Bryce and, by association, Brayden be better fae than I? I touched my lips as a sense of dread rushed through my system.
That would be terrible.
Last night’sconversation helped clarify my relationship with my new friends slash fellow quintet members, but a trace of uncertainty remained. That nagging concern only grew throughout the following day, especially after the second disturbing revelation of the evening had left me wallowing the rest of the night.
Bryce Dubois.
Bryce’s behavior changes were first noticeable during our morning biology lecture. However, the oddities became blatant during our three-hour laboratory that afternoon.
I was used to the staring, the silent challenges, the undermining of my authority—such as plotting with Damen to exorcise my ghost this very evening—but why did he have to look at me with suchlonging? I shivered, and the hair on the back of my neckstood straight every time he brushed past my desk. It almost seemed he was trying to check up on me or stare into my face.
It was dreadful.
I couldn’t help myself; I took the first chance to escape to the restroom—just for a moment’s peace. It was better to ask forgiveness rather than permission in such instances.
On the way back to the room, I debated skipping the rest of class. Still, I wasn’t rebellious enough for that yet, and eventually, with heavy limbs, I continued my way back to class and to Bryce’s unnerving stares.
How much more must I endure? It’d be horrible enough tonight when his presence encroached upon my fortress of peace.
Still, my heart wasn’t in the mood for academic excellence. It felt foolish to waste time on education while my ghost was in danger of eradication. I should be researching how to save it, not playing around with Bryce.
I felt useless. In the past, when I’d had a mission, it had been my responsibility—along with Finn, who would complain but do my bidding—to help prepare. Yet no one had even asked me to do any research.
Despite the peril we’d recently faced together, I had to acknowledge our efficiency as a team. It was a testament to our resilience and ability to adapt and overcome even the direst situations.
Maybe we could clone him and create a version that hadn’t lied to me.
Or I could just text him back.
“Bianca?” The sound of my name drew me from my musings, and I froze. Three innocent-looking boys stood between me and the safety of Bryce’s supervision. I didn’t know their names, but if I remembered correctly, they were in my class.
However, I didn’t have the best track record for this sort ofinteraction. Plus, why did boys always travel in groups of three or four? Didn’t they know how to do anything on their own?
“That’s your name, right?” The first one, a tall, early-twenty-something with dusty blond hair grinned sheepishly as he touched the back of his head. The other two at his sides—a black-haired, blue-eyed boy with thick glasses, and a buzzed cut, dirty-blond with an earring—glanced between us.
“Yes…” I answered. They appeared innocent enough, but Finnhad beenright about one thing—I didn’t talk to people.
I looked longingly toward the classroom.
