Page 34

“Do you want to tell me what happened?

What’s there to tell when I hardly even know myself? Besides, I’m not the confiding type, especially not with a man I barely know. “No. Are we done?”

Carver squints at me. “So it would seem.”

“Wonderful. Bye.” I flop back onto the bed and wave him away. I sense him hesitating, probably considering forcing me to tell him. I brace for his magic, even though I know I’m helpless to stop it. But with a huff, he turns and strides away. The door bangs open and a rushing of feet counters his retreating steps.

“Finally! Carver wouldn’t let us in until he talked to you. Are you okay?” Ever asks.

I rest on my forearms and look at her, Bree, and Eli. “You were waiting to see me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Bree says with a laugh. “They told me Melody tried to fry you like a potato.”

Carver had acted like it was no big deal. Obviously it was bad enough to freak these three out. Bree and Eli plop onto the foot of my bed, sitting on either side of my legs, and Ever comes to stand beside my shoulder, searching my face for injuries. There’s true concern on her face. The sight of it is enough to make my stomach twist. I don’t deserve her worry, and I’m not sure what to do with that sort of care. “I’m fine.”

“If Carver hadn’t stopped her, you’d be dead,” Ever counters. “Another bolt and you would have fully caught on fire.”

“Good thing he did, then, yeah?”

She scowls. “You can’t die this early in the game. You’re a legend in the making.”

“I’m really not.”

Her hands fall on my shoulders, and her glowing eyes pin me in place. “You already have second years coming after you, and it’s only week two. Trust me, Raina, you’re going to be a badass.”

“You need to work on your power,” Eli says. “You’re not even trying.”

Bree and Ever glance at him, faces pinched in confusion.

Bree glances at me. “What’s he talking about?”

My teeth clench, and I want to be mad at him. It’s hard, when he’s doing this out of concern.

“In practical casting, she barely put in effort.” Eli crosses his arms. “You’ll never find your affinities if you won’t even try.”

“Is that true?” Ever asks, frowning.

“I’m trying, but it’s like I said. I don’t know how to use them.”

“Maybe you’re scared of it,” Bree says. “I can help you break through that mental barrier with my mindcraft.”

Every fiber of my being protests at the thought of another mindcraft user scouring my brain. “No thanks.” There are certain memories I don’t want anyone to see.

“Okay, well,” Ever begins. “You need to figure it out soon. Melody isn’t going to stop coming after you.”

“I’m working on it,” I lie, but what else am I supposed to say? While affinities don’t fully manifest until paranorms are twenty-one, even kids can access little bits. I can’t remember how many times I watched kids on the playground messing around with their magic while I hungered for my own. I’ve tried searching for it. I’ve sat down in a quiet room and begged the Goddess, but every time I slam face-first into nothing.

A void is the only way I can describe it, like the thread that connects me to the Goddess was cleaved, and all that’s left behind is a hollow abyss. That emptiness haunts me every day. Each morning, I wake up, hoping to feel the rush of power tingling through me, but I’m always disappointed.

The sun hasn’t even risen when my alarm goes off. It should be illegal to get out of bed at this hour, but duty calls. Too bad I don’t have a sick note. Despite feeling like trash, I’m fully healed from Melody’s attack, and the healer sent me on my way.

Which means there’s no good excuse to skip work today, and I won’t jeopardize this job for anything, not even exhaustion. I tug on a fresh set of clothes, stuff my feet into my combat boots, and toss my hair up into a messy bun that leans more haphazard than stylish. I’ll worry about how I look later, when the sun is actually awake. With a yawn, I grab my badge, scowl at the stupid photo, swear to get my revenge on that enrollment lady, and leave my room and the Vanguard spire.

I count my enemies as I make my way to the facilities building. Melody. The registration lady. Drake, for whatever reason. Melody’s friends.

“Who knew I was so good at making friends?” I ask a small brown bird perched on the sign for the building.

It tweets at me, then flies away.