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“And what about me?” he asks, tipping his head. There’s that delighted gleam again. He is fucking with me.

“I don’t care what you do, either,” I growl.

My entire body is trembling with annoyance. I want to scream. Part of me wants to attack Bellamy, though I don’t entirely know why. Whatever the reason, I don’t like it. I don’t like feeling anything for any of the bonded. I can’t confuse this time with Bellamy as anything other than a deal. We’re not friends. He’s set to change the paranormal world. I’m . . . probably set to die if I can’t tap into my magic. People like us were never meant to be friends or anything other than that.

The thing that makes me the most upset is, he knows that and yet he still tries to make me jealous, as if I’d fucking care. Taking a breath, I glare at him and step back. “You need to go.”

Bellamy stares at me, and I can practically see him scheming, trying to think of some way to get back in my good graces, to keep me hanging on his every word.

“Go, Bellamy.”

“Is that really what you want?”

No. “Yes,” I say through my teeth, keeping my gaze on the facilities building and waiting for him to leave.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he promises.

“I wish you wouldn’t,” I confess. But a bargain is a bargain, and I need the information he has. No more fucking around. Tomorrow, it’s all business.

The wind flutters around me as he shadow walks away, but in his absence, my agitation only grows, and I can already tell today is going to be a shitty day.

By the time I make it back to the facilities building, I’ve patched together my dignity and pride. I’m not letting Bellamy get under my skin. I’m going to leave Rowan alone. Carver is, well, Carver. Nothing to worry about there. As for Drake, there’s no love lost between us, and I’d rather eat nails than talk to him, so at least there’s that.

I shove inside and wheel the cart past Oliver’s office. His worn cushioned seat is empty, monitor fast asleep. That’s odd. Normally he’s here when I get back. Maybe he went out on an early morning coffee date. A small smile works across my face.

Now there’s someone who deserves love. Oliver is a little crabby, but he’s a big softy. He’d make someone very happy.

I get busy starting the washers and occupying my mind with worrying about my upcoming session with Professor Silverstone. Unlike with Carver and Drake, I actually care what Silverstone thinks, and I’m terrified I’ll disappoint her.

The bells to the entrance jingle, pulling me out of my head. That must be Oliver.

“Back from your date so soon?” I call out, shoving a handful of towels into a machine. Over the rush of water filling the washer next to me, I can barely make out his footsteps. “How do you feel about a spring wedding? I know warmer weather is five or six months away this far north, but imagine the flowers.”

I drop in an orb of bespelled soap and shut the machine. It kicks on automatically, the sounds in the room obnoxiously loud for machines that are meant to be magically enhanced. Laundry, it turns out, is a burden on humans and paranormals alike. Whoever invented clothes is an asshole.

Awareness pricks the back of my neck.

{Something isn’t right.}

My gaze cuts to the doorway, brow furrowing, pulse kicking into overdrive. The voice is never wrong. “Oliver?”

The bells jingle again.

What the . . .?

I stride to the door that leads to the hallway but hesitate before I cross the threshold. The air tastes metallic and vibrates with the energy of a freshly laid spell.

Warning bells go off in my mind seconds before I hear a crackle and then a warm whoosh. Bright flames burst out of the supply closet, licking at the threshold and devouring the door in a matter of seconds, feasting like a ravenous dog. The heat of the flames is too hot to be a normal fire. They eat their way up the wooden threshold. My eyes widen, every muscle freezing in the shock of what’s happening, until I’m left staring in horror at the almost ethereal orange and yellow flames.

The edges of my vision waver. I blink, and suddenly I’m sitting in my twin’s bed. We always wanted to sleep in the same one rather than our own.

“Do you want to see something cool?” Addison’s voice, so small and young, echoes in my head. Her eyes, identical to my own, are bright with excitement. My own happiness bubbles and pops in my chest.

“Magic?” I love playing with our magic. When we’re bigger and we can access all of our power, we’re going to be so strong.

“Of course!” she says with a giddy grin. Then she snaps her fingers, and a flame, the size of one on a birthday candle, appears at the tip of her finger. “I can make fire!”

The glow of it makes my eyes flare. Whoa. So far, I only have one affinity, but if Addy can access some of her second, then I should be able to soon enough.