Хлоя Нейл - Firespell

“Not exactly like ours,” Katie reminded him.

I watched Michael struggle to keep his expression neutral. “Enough like ours,” he countered, “to make it evident that she’s like us. That she’s one of us.”

Katie shook her head. “You’re missing the point. She’s already told us she doesn’t have skills,

magic, power. Nothing but a fancy bruise.” As if to confirm that suspicion, she turned her green-

eyed gaze on me. “She’s not one of us.”

“A fancy bruise?” Scout repeated. “You’re kidding, right?”

Katie shrugged, the movement and her expression condescending. “I’m just saying.”

“Hey,” Smith said, apparently deciding to intervene. “Let it go. It’s better for her, anyway.

Hanging out down here isn’t fun and games. This job is dangerous, it’s hard, and it’s exhausting.

This might feel like rejection. It’s actually luck.”

The room went quiet. When Scout spoke again, her voice was soft, but earnest.

“I know my place,” she said, “and we all know this isn’t the easiest job in the world. But if she’s one of us, if she’s part of us, she needs to know.We need to know.”

“There’s no evidence that she’s one of us, Scout,” Smith said. “A mark isn’t enough. A mark won’t stop Reapers, and it won’t save regulars, and it won’t help us. This isn’t up for debate.

You bring me some evidence—real evidence—that it’s a darkening, and we’ll talk about it again.”

I could feel Scout’s frustration, could see it in the stiffness in her shoulders. She looked at her colleagues.

“Paul? Jamie? Jill? Jason?” When she met Michael’s gaze, her expression softened. “Michael?”

He looked down for a moment, considering, then up at her again. “I’m sorry, Scout, but I’m with Smith on this one. She’s not like us. She wasn’t made the way we were. She wasn’t born with power, and the only reason she has a mark is because she got hit. If we let her in anyway, if we play devil’s advocate, she takes our attention away from everything else we have to deal with. We can’t afford that right now.”

“Her being damaged isn’t reason enough,” Katie put in.

I arched an eyebrow. Scout may have had to play nice for hierarchy reasons, but I (obviously) wasn’t part of this group.

“I am notdamaged ,” I said. “I’m a bystander who got wrapped up in something I didn’t want to be wrapped up in because you couldn’t keep the bad guys in hand.”

“The point is,” Smith said, “you weren’t born like us. The only thing you’ve got right now is a symbol of nothing.”

“There’s no need to be harsh,” Michael said. “It’s not like she got branded on purpose.”

“Are you sure about that?”

The room went silent, all eyes on Katie.

“Are you suggesting,” Scout bit out, “that she faked the darkening?”

Katie gazed at her with unapologetic snarkiness. This girl had college brat pack written all over her.

“So much for ‘all for one and one for all,’ ” Scout muttered. “I can’t believe you’d suspect that a person who’d never seen a darkening before faked having one forty-eight hours after she was put in the hospital because she took a full-on dose of firespell and managed to survive it. And you know what’s worse? I can’t believe you’d doubt me.” She pressed a finger into her chest.“Me .”

The JV Adepts shared heavy looks.

“Regulars put us all at risk. They raise our profile, they get in the way, they serve as distractions.” Jason lifted his chin, and eyes of sea blue stared out. He gazed at me, anger in his eyes. My slight at the mall must have hurt more than I’d thought.

“Until we know more, she’s a regular, and that’s all she is. No offense,” he added, his gaze on me.

“None taken,” I lied back to him.

“We have other business to discuss,” Smith said. “Escort her home.”

“That’s it?” Scout’s voice contained equal parts desperation and frustration.

“Bring us something we can use,” Smith said. “Someonewe can use, and we’ll talk.”

Scout offered a sarcastic salute. “Let’s go,” she said to me, her hand on my arm, leading me away as the group turned inward to begin their next plan.

We were fifty yards away from the room before she spoke. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a problem,” I said, not entirely sure if I believed that. I hadn’t wanted to be the victim of the firespell attack, hadn’t wanted to find the mark on my back, hadn’t been thrilled about being dragged to a meeting of Adepts, or becoming one. I knew what Scout went through. Late-

night meetings. Fear. Worry. Bearing the responsibility of protecting the public from soul-

sucking adults and hell-bent teenagers—and not just your run-of-the-mill soul-sucking adults and hell- bent teenagers. I’d seen the exhaustion on her face, even as I appreciated her sense of right and wrong, the fact that she put herself out there to protect people who didn’t know she was burning the candle at both ends.

So even though it wasn’t something I’d asked for, or something I thought I wanted, it was hard not to feel rejected by Smith and Katie and the rest of Enclave Three. I was already the new girl —a Sagamore fish out of water in a school where everyone else had years of history together and lots of money to play with. Being treated like an outcast wasn’t something I’d signed up for.

“I’ll have to keep an eye on you,” she said as we reentered the main building and headed across the labyrinth, “in case anything happens.”

“In case I get attacked by a Reaper, or in case I suddenly develop the ability to summon unicorns?” My voice was toast-dry.

“Oh, please,” Scout said. “Don’t take that tone with me. You know you’d love to have a minion.

Someone at your beck and call. Someone to do your bidding. How many times have you said to yourself, ‘Self, I need a unicorn to run errands and such’?”

“Not that often till lately, to be real honest,” I said, but managed a small smile.

“Yeah, well, welcome to the jungle,” she said again, but this time, darkly.

It was nearly midnight by the time I was tucked into bed in a tank top and shorts, the St.

Sophia’s blanket pulled up to my chin. One hand behind my head, I stared at the stars on the ceiling, sleep elusive, probably because I was already too well-rested. After all, I’d spent half the weekend either hunkered beneath the sheets, an ostrich with its head in cotton, or ignoring my best friend by lollygagging on Michigan Avenue. I’d self- medicated with luxury goods. Well,

by watching other girls buy luxury goods, anyway.

I wasn’t thrilled with what I’d done, with my abandonment. But, whether I was the perfect best friend or not, the sounds of traffic softened, and I finally, oh so slowly, fell asleep.

I woke to pounding on the door. Suddenly vaulted from sleep, I sat up and pushed tangled hair from my face. “Who’s there?”

“We’re running late!” came Scout’s frantic voice from the other side.

I glanced over at the alarm clock. Class started in fifteen minutes.

“Frick,” I said, adrenaline jolting me to full consciousness. I threw off the blankets and jumped for the door. Unlocking and opening it, I found Scout in the doorway in long-sleeved pajamas and thick blue socks.

I arched an eyebrow at the ensemble. “It’s still September, right?”

Scout rolled her eyes. “I’m cold a lot. Sue me.”

“How about I just take a shower?”

She nodded and held up two energy bars. “Get in, get out, and when you’re done, art history,

here we come.”