“Rather than keep all of you on pins and needles, we’re announcing our Raven’s Head homecoming royal pair right here, right now!”
That’d never been done before. The royalty wasalwayscrowned at the dance.
A murmur zipped through the crowd. Court members gasped. Embry was so focused on keeping her smile bright and level that she thought her face might shatter.
“Aren’t you all thrilled you don’t have to wait an extra day?” the headmaster asked. “Forget those nerves; folks, they’ll be gone in approximately two seconds. Are you ready?”
No. No. Embry was not ready. It didn’t escape her that this was at least the fourth time since school started that she wasn’t the first to know something.
But it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t matter. Nothing about this changed the outcome.
“Our first homecoming royal pair member is…” The drum line began an actual drumroll from the stands. “Balthazar Hale!”
Embry’s heart double-beat. She was going to be royalty with Balthazar. It was fate.
The sorcerer stood, stage grin at the ready. He strode forward, eating it up. He didn’t glance back at her, which was fine. They’d have their moment in mere seconds.
In the corner of her eye, Embry saw Rye sink to his knees,snapping Balthazar as Martinelli traded his tiara for a more substantial crown. Then Rye shifted, his lens trained in an angle that would capture both Balthazar and his cohort the moment their name was called.
“And our second homecoming royal pair member is…” The drum line began again, and Embry shut her eyes and drew in a long, meditative breath…
“Oakley Riddle!”
Embry’s eyes flew open. In the stands, everyone was on their feet. Clapping and cheering, and… Were those streaks of bloody crimson in their hair coordinated? Martinelli beamed at Oakley, urging her forward. She was still frozen to her seat, her mouth a perfect, ruby O. Then a switch flipped—the vampire stood, her lips curving into a smile that put her fangs on display.
Suddenly, Embry had that same sensation she’d had with Balthazar moments earlier, the entire world dropping away, except now instead of the two of them, it was Oakley and Balthazar, standing together, twin ornate crowns placed atop their heads before a cheering crowd.
This had to be a dream. It couldn’t be real, could it?
But the flowers on her wrist were real. The tiara pressing into her skull was real. Rye was really crossing in front of her, going for another angle of the winners and the remainder of the court. His eyes caught hers and even at this distance Embry read the note of empathy in them.
She’d lost.
CHAPTER 12
A ROYAL MESS
“FOOTBALLBITCHES UNITE!” SKYE SCREAMED, BOTH FISTS INthe air, as she ran off about thirty seconds after the entire homecoming court finished rounding the corner of the stadium and back into the privacy of their prep area.
“I’m changingafterthis stupid powder-puff exhibition,” Ames growled, smoothing down her rose-hued gown. “There’s no way I can miss seeing the snot kicked out of that Bitch.”
The irony, of course, was that give Ames some boxing gloves, and she could easily inflict more damage to Skye Wolverton than anyone on that football field.
“Even though you’re talking about my friend,” Fairfax contended, a mischievous smile warming his face, “I do love it when you not only choose violence but plead for it.”
“Do you think there’ll be blood?” Oakley asked from where Rye was getting her seated on a faux throne for an official homecoming royalty portrait. Balthazar was already in position, looking very regal on a throne of his own.
“Goddess, I hope so,” Ames purred. “Let’s go, boys.”
“Embry?” Alistair asked, hesitating.
If Embry wasn’t completely shocked already, she would’ve been at the sound of her name out of his mouth after the past ten days. It was an olive branch as much as it was a reminder that if they were on better terms, maybe he would’ve given her a heads-upwhen the social committee (ahem, Fairfax) failed to do so. But alas, that was not to be.
But Embry Woodcross was a good friend, a gracious loser, and the ultimate witch.
She would congratulate each of the winners personally, and then she’d lick her wounds privately. That was the best and only thing she could do.
“Save us seats,” Embry replied, her smile so weak it barely made it into formation. Still, Alistair’s own mouth quirked in a pleasant enough way that she could almost ignore his sorrowful gaze. She cocked a thumb back at Oakley and Balthazar. “I’ll wait with our royalty.”
