“Gwendolyn,” I said, trying to put on my bestmotherlytone. “I know this is hard, but I need you to focus, and I’m going to go ahead and say pardon my language, but what thefuckdoes this have to do with me?”
She sank into my desk chair, looking at me miserably. “Uncle Balthazar is”—she glanced around the room as though someone other thanuswas there to hear—“pissedat me.”
“Oh, I noticed,” I said, crossing my arms.
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. A few weeks ago, he promised to take me into the city to this super cool supernatural bookstore for the midnight release. We were gonna take his car there.”
Acar? It never crossed my mind that Balthazar might have a car. The academy was designed, built, and decorated to look like an old-fashioned boarding school. Sometimes, I actually forgot I was living in the twenty-first century. No televisions, computers, or tablets were allowed. Students were allowed a phone to text and call family and friends, and a few other tiny modern tech conveniences—like Wendy’s speaker—but those were strictly forbidden during school hours and could only be used in our rooms before breakfast and after dinner. Of course, people still found a way around the rules, and more than a few used their phones to access the internet and social media.
Balthazar’s thought process was that too much technology might mute theauraof magic. Honestly, I kind of thought that was bullshit and that he just had a hard-on for cosplaying an ancient wizard or something, but I’d never say that toanyone—especially not his niece.
“He grounded me and won’t take me now,” Wendy said.
“I get that. I was there when he chewed your butt out. What does this have to do with me?”
I had a sneaking suspicion what it did have to do with me.
Wendy bit her lower lip again, a sure sign she was going to say something she thought might upset somebody.
“I thought you might help me.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Help you do what?”
“Could you take me to the city and get the book? Please? I’vegotto have it tonight. By tomorrow, there will be spoilers all over the internet. People are going to be posting about whether Torian falls in love with Kanth or Buroval and?—”
“Who?”
“They’re the main characters. Follow along, Veronica,” she said absently. “It will ruin the surprise, and I’ve been waiting for this book since…” she trailed off, her face crumpling slightly. “Since…well, it’s been a couple years since the last one came out.”
The sadness in her eyes was enough to tell me what she hadn’t said. She’d been waiting on this book since before her parents died. I could picture a younger Wendy, begging her parents to take her to the bookstore to get the first novel in this series.I could see her sobbing and crying after they died, then diving into the story with her whole heart and soul. I loved books and understood the appeal. Books helped you forget all your pain and sadness and allowed you to throw off the shackles and chains of agony for a little while.
“Let me get this straight,” I said, my resolve beginning to crack. “You want me, a student at Balthazar’s school, to take you, his niece and only living relative, over thirty miles to the city? At midnight? On a school night? Against his wishes? All so you can buy a book you really like? Is that the gist of it?”
Wendy nodded, her purple dreads bouncing back and forth as she grinned. “Yup. I know where he keeps his car keys.”
“Ohgood.Grand theft auto too?”
“He’s already asleep,” Wendy said. “And he barely uses that car. It’ll be fine. As long as you don’t do anything to get pulled over.” Her smile faded, and I saw that bitter sadness in her eyes again. “Veronica, I need this. It… It’ll remind me of my parents. Even if it’s just a little while, I’ll feel like they’re with me while I read it.”
Fuck.I heaved a sigh. “Go get the keys.”
The car was tucked inside a small garage that I’d never noticed on the grounds. The Honda Accord looked as old as I was, but it was clean and in good condition. Heart rattling, I got in and started the engine, my breath pluming out in the cold night air. With every passing second, I was more and more worried that Balthazar would step out from behind a tree or wall and give me that disapproving look.
“And I thought you were a good student,” I imagined him saying, then expelling me.
“Can you get in the freaking car?” I hissed to Wendy.
She opened the door and leapt in, grinning like a giddy child on Christmas morning.
“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this!” she said as she shut the door.
I grunted. “Yeah, neither can I.”
To my surprise, once I started driving, a lot of my anxiety faded. I cranked the heat, and by the time we turned out of the gates, I’d tricked myself into imagining this as a normal road trip—a quick jaunt to town with my annoying surrogate sister beside me bouncing up and down with excitement.
“I hope you know how much you owe me for this,” I said.
“You have no idea. I’ll do your homework for a week,” Wendy said, and swept her hand through her hair.
