It makes my stomach churn as my own astonishment takes root. All from watching the enigma before me.
She startles, whipping her head around to glance over her shoulder as if she can sense someone’s gaze on her, but she looks in the opposite direction of where I’m standing. Still, I take another step backward, making sure the shadows completely obscure me from her view.
A few moments pass before she turns back around, seemingly content to believe she’s alone. Relief rushes through me as I trail my eyes over her once again, but to my dismay, she starts to tug her socks and sneakers on, ready to leave.
But I can’t truly decipher what’s going on until it’s too late. She grabs her sword and heads around the opposite side of the building, without leaving a trace that she was even here except for the tiny blades of grass mingled among the others. Theywouldn’t mean anything to anyone else, but I saw it with my own eyes.
Standing alone, the subject of my attention gone, I let my eyelids fall closed as I repeat the visual in my mind. If I hadn’t been laser-focused, feasting my eyes on every part of her, then I wouldn’t have known what was going on.
She just did something with that grass that even I can't explain. I can’t imagine what she thinks of it. Does she realize the significance?
Stepping out of the shadows, I hurry the few steps needed to the nearest dry patch of grass so I too can pluck a shade of each blade of grass. Awe fills me as I stare down at them. Black smoke gathers around my hands and flutters for a moment before it retreats, disappearing into nothing until only the two blades of grass remain, both the exact same color.
As a shadow fae, I’m not surprised to learn I can do it as well. I’ve never done it before, never tried, but to learn that a scythe…
Is it known that a scythe can do that? That they can do more than just take?
My mind wanders to the array of books I have under my bed, but I know for certain none of them will cover the information I require. Another visit to the restricted section in the library would be great right about now, but that’s no longer an option since it burned so brightly during yesterday’s Rebellion attack.
Would it be in the books she chose to take from our last visit? Is that why she tried it?
I need to know. There's still a layer of uncertainty about what remains to be understood. There must be information somewhere, even if it comes directly from the source.
That would require me to approach her about it, but from the way she scattered out of here, I'd say she's not quite there yet.
Looking down at my hands, I let the blades of grass flutter to the ground, bringing my attention back to my crimson-stained palms.
Nathaniel.
I need to wash off his blood, but for now, I stuff my hands into the center pocket of my hoodie as I realize I was here by chance, which only confirms in my mind just how much I was supposed to see that happen.
After a restless sleep, I had given up all hope as dawn broke across the horizon. I made my way from Institute Thirteen to Twelve, ready to dispose of the body we left yesterday.
I made a promise to the wolves, so I came with an axe, happily chopping up Nathaniel into little treat-sized pieces for the furry mutts. Chunks of which are now ready to be scattered around the outskirts of The Vale for those willing to feast upon him.
Heading toward the basement door, I lock it shut and hide the key in the small crack in the rocks beside it.
I wonder if anyone will consider reporting him missing.
Ocean won't, nor will the rest of us, and I can't imagine Jude cares enough to do anything that doesn’t benefit himself.
The chances are slim, but not gone entirely. Regardless, that fucker got what he deserved.
Pulling out my cell phone, I tap out a quick message, letting Rion know that someone can come for the meat before I head toward Institute Thirteen.
A yawn parts my lips as I groan, mindlessly making my way home so deep in thought I don't acknowledge my surroundings until my hand is poised above the door handle, ready to enter the gym.
I pause before my fingers can wrap around the brass and my chest clenches as my breath lodges in my throat. I can hear her breathing on the other side of the wood, along with the whirringof the treadmill, and I want to join her, look deep into her eyes, and understand the world through her eyes too.
A flicker of panic ghosts across my skin.
I don't want to make her jump or startle, and I don’t want to do something that will put her defenses up. My mind and body battle for the correct answer. My mind is desperate for me to rush upstairs and put some much-needed distance between us, while my body clenches my fist, which instantly poises, ready to knock on the door.
I fight against it, bracing my tight fist on the wood without making a noise as I sag forward, my head dipping as I try to process the emotions clogging my thoughts.
She’s right there. Right on the other side. All I have to do is open the door.
The reminder of what she is and who I am makes me stumble back, and my spine connects with the wall across the corridor, making me grunt. My chest heaves with every breath, no matter how hard I try to shake it.
