My still-knotted stomach has sunk to somewhere around the level of my knees.
Why is Cole throwing us together? I know he heard the murmurs that rippled through the halls after she shouted at me the other day.
Knowing my brother, he might be purposefully provoking her. Hoping to rub her unfairness in her face. Or simply looking to give me an opportunity to take her down a peg.
But I don’t want to.
I sink into the chair opposite her. Elodie tugs her blazer straight and crosses her legs at the ankle while studiously avoiding looking at my face. Everyone must be able to see how little she likes having to work with me.
Shame stings the back of my throat, even though I have no idea what I’ve done to offend her.
Maybe this is a chance to find out. To get some idea what’s bothering her about me—and about whatever else she’s been dealing with lately.
If I glean something vulnerable, I don’t have to announce it to the class. I just want to understand.
Cole positions himself behind his desk, his penetrating eyes fixed on Elodie. “Begin. Miss Devine, why don’t you go first?”
The trace of a sneer in his tone tells me he’s definitely out to stick one to her. Doesn’t it occur to him that facing her discomfort is equally uncomfortable to me?
Elodie’s gaze flicks over my body without meeting my eyes. I’m suddenly, starkly aware of her knees just a couple of inches from me, as if a waft of heat has leapt between us. My skin only gets tighter.
She speaks faster than I expected, the words tart. “You’re wishing your brother didn’t make us go through this stupid exercise.”
Somehow our already silent classmates fall into an even deeper hush, their breaths held as they watch for their professor’s reaction. It’s obvious Elodie is using the assignment to express her own displeasure.
A harsher note comes into Cole’s voice. “If you can’t be bothered to follow the guidelines of the exercise?—”
My own lungs have clenched, but I cut off his threat with a bob of my head, trying not to feel like a traitor while I do it.
I don’t believe for a second that Elodie read anything that specific about my feelings—I suspect she didn’t even try—but that doesn’t mean she’s wrong. I’m not going to let him castigate her for something that’s true.
Cole cuts himself off. I don’t dare look his way.
He inhales sharply. “Fine. Your turn, Mr. Raith.”
There’s no way around it. I will my nerves to settle and study Elodie with more care than she appeared to give me. She’s continuing to avoid my eyes, her gaze drifting in the vicinity of my shoulders.
As with every person, creature, and object, quivers of ephemera resonate off her. I concentrate more intently, expecting the sensation to expand and deepen.
Instead, it’s as if my mind bounces off a thin shell. A protective barrier blocks me reading from most of the energy on the other side.
She’s shielding against me. I can only recognize the sensation because of the private lessons I’ve gotten from my brother.
Shielding isn’t taught at Luminary, at least not before grad school, and it’s definitely against the rules for this exercise.
Doesn’t she care if Cole notices? She’s kept the effect subtle, more like a flexible membrane than a thick wall, but if I can pick up on it, he sure as hell could too.
But then, she didn’t seem all that concerned about pissing him off during her turn.
Those thoughts pass through my head in the space of a few seconds, and then the barrier fades. Glimmers of ephemera reach my searching awareness.
I think she noticed me reacting to her shield and thinned it so it’s less obvious. Which suggests even more skill than I’ve gained through my practice with Cole.
Maybe it isn’t surprising. Given her family’s status, why wouldn’t they have taught her how to guard herself well?
I just don’t know what it is that she’s guarding so carefully right now.
Time is ticking away, and my brother can’t show too much favoritism by letting me dawdle forever. I skim through the impressions that have filtered through and pick the first one that gives me a clear image. “Your pen went dry earlier this morning.”
