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  “I’m not losing control! I do yoga! I’m the calm one!” I cried, as angry tears blurred my vision.

  It was possible this was what losing control looked like.

  “This was an order from the council,” he said. “If you were killed, your father would be even more upset, I’m sure. We will get this straightened out, and as soon as we do, I promise you can take a weekend home.”

  “But…when?”

  “I just don’t know yet. I’m sorry. Please try to enjoy the ball tonight.”

  I stepped outside his office. Firian was waiting for me in the hall. I could tell he’d been listening. His hearing was probably good. He took one look at my face, which was contorted in one of those silent crying messes where you look like an infant about to let loose, and he threw his arms around me. His shoulder was just the right height to smother my tears.

  “Firian…!”

  “I know.” He just held me.

  The way he said ‘I know’ was so understanding, yet laced with strength and assurance that I would never be alone. Never. Everyone is afraid of being alone. In high school I was always worrying over the fact that I didn’t have a super close best friend, or a boyfriend, or a mom, or siblings or cousins. The only person in my life I could always depend on was Dad. And he could depend on me. Now I was letting him down in the worst way.

  I let myself sink into Firian’s embrace. He supported me as I slumped, a pillar of strength.

  But now I have you, Firian.

  I calmed down. Enough to compose my face anyway.

  No sooner had I stepped out of the main hall than I heard a bubbly female voice call behind me, “Are you the girl?”

  “What girl?” I took a deep breath and saw the first fellow female I had witnessed in months. Months? It was true. I had never even seen Master Blair’s mythical decorator. I was almost relieved, except that she was the most gorgeous person I had ever seen in my life. She had a brilliant smile and huge eyes and a truly impressive set of boobs peeking out from a slightly—but not too—flirtatious neckline. Her black hair was perfect, lightly curled under a little red hat, and she wore a cherry red coat over a cream colored dress and leather boots. While her skin and hair indicated some sort of diversity, she didn’t actually look like any particular ethnic background except globally acknowledged perfection. Like, imagine Vanessa Hudgens, and then imagine that next to this girl, Vanessa Hudgens might as well mutilate her face while sobbing.

  “The girl at Merlin College!” she said. “Harris told me!”

  “Harris?”

  “Mmhm! Harris is my fiancee! Well—“ She touched my arm and gave me a mischievous look. “Nearly so.”

  I felt something in the pit of my stomach let out a cry of unbidden rage. For some reason. “Oh…I didn’t know he was engaged.”

  “I’ll bet he doesn’t talk about me. Hmm hmm! Well, he can’t avoid me now, no sir!”

  I think that was her laugh. Mr. Ha Ha Ha, will you take Miss Hmm Hmm! to be your lawfully wedded wife?

  “Anyway,” she said. “I’m so excited to meet you! You’re the only witch who has ever been allowed here and no one knows why! You must have some crazy powers, girl! We’ll have to talk. You have to tell me all the secrets. Is that your familiar?”

  “Yes. I’ll bet Harris told you about him too.”

  “A little bit! What! You are tasty! You’re a fox, right? Heyyy, Disney Robin Hood, am I right?” She elbowed me.

  The something inside my stomach—maybe I was possessed by some sort of gut demon?—let out a cry of unholy fury.

  Firian accepted the handshake she offered. Noooo!

  “What is your name?” he asked.

  “Daisy.”

  “Ah. The girl Gatsby couldn’t have,” Firian said.

  “Oh, you!” She laughed.

  “Charlotte needs a nap before the ball,” said Firian, to his credit. “She was up very early studying.”

  “Of course. I bet you’re a really wonderful student. I’ll see you tonight, Charlotte!”

  As we walked away, Firian gave me an amused look.

  “What are you smirking at, Robin Hood? You didn’t have to be so nice to her! When did you read the Great Gatsby?”

  “I don’t have a TV.” His expression changed to incredulous. “You’re not feeling…jealous, are you?”

  “I feel deeply inadequate and self-conscious and plain. If you must know. I didn’t know it was possible to be that gorgeous. I feel like I’m going blind. I can’t even be jealous. It’s like asking a normal girl schlepping around a community college campus with acne and a ponytail if she’s jealous of like, Megan Markle for marrying a prince. They don’t even connect.”

  “Come on. She wasn’t that amazing. She’s not a princess.”

  “You come on.”

  “She had weird hands.”

  “You didn’t even look at her hands.”

  “Of course I did,” he said. “Her fingers were too feeble looking.”

  “You’re saying her hands are delicate.”

  “No. They were like baby hands. Like how babies have weird tiny fingers. Now look at your hands.” He lifted one of my hands and traced one of his fingers between two of my fingers. “Your fingers are tapered and graceful. She has a little glamour on. Makes her hair look good, her eyes look bigger, all of that stuff—but no one ever glamours their hands.”

  I shivered at the touch. I started to feel a little better. I would look better too when I gave myself a little glamour. But what seemed to matter in that moment wasn’t how Daisy looked, but the fact that Firian moved right on from thinking about her.

  “This sounds like a nice line of bullshit, Firian,” I said, but I was smiling now.

  “I’ll do it for you anytime.”

  But as I got back to my room, I remembered the real problem: I couldn’t go home for Christmas. I couldn’t see Dad. The ball hardly seemed to matter when put up against a whole break where I wouldn’t see the person I loved the most.

  “Take a deep breath,” Firian said. “Do you want to be a powerful witch? Who can truly cast impressive magic and control it and doesn’t have to be intimidated by anyone, whether it’s Daisy or a demon?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, take your sadness and channel it into energy. This feeling is temporary. The love you share with your father is permanent. It can’t be shaken by distance, or time, or even death. You believe that, right?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Deep breaths. Feel it.”

  I knew Firian was right. I shut my eyes and took several long, deep inhalations and exhalations. I knew the sadness would hit me again later, just as hard as before. I just need to make it through the ball. Let me just live in this moment.

  When I opened my eyes, Firian was giving me a private smile that helped me stay in the moment. “You’re going to the ball with me, right?” I asked.

  “I—“ He started, a little furrow between his brows. “If you’re asking, I will. Fuck everything else.”

  I bit my lip. “It’s going to be an interesting night, huh?”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Charlotte

  “Just to warn you, in a few minutes I’m going in that bathroom and I’m not coming out for a while. I’m about to get super girly tonight.”

  Alec looked up from his studying—yeah, he was actually studying—and gave me a silent acknowledgement. As usual, he wasn’t a big talker, but his eyes had some—ahem—interesting things to say.

  “Any girls coming tonight that you like?” I asked, plucking my dress out of the old wardrobe.

  “No,” he said. “You know…it’s a slippery slope for me. Degree first.”

  “Well, I wasn’t sure. I met Harris’ lady earlier.”

  “Which one?”

  “How many does he have?”

  “Three.” He put his book down and fell back on the bed, looking toward the window.

  “It was Daisy.”

  “Daisy. Right, right.” He s
hut his eyes. “I shouldn’t even go to this thing.”

  “Is it that…difficult for you?”

  He shot me a piercing look that instantly brought back memories of that…dream. Since it was a dream, I had managed to partition it off as not being real, but when Alec looked at me a certain way, I was reminded just how real it seemed. He was so real in the dream, and he was even more real now. Firian had gone to Etherium while I got ready, so my eyes couldn’t help but indulge in a brief graze of Alec’s long legs, one arm slung over his slightly rumpled uniform shirt, the tattoos on his arms.

  “His parents chose them,” he said. “Those girls.”

  “Oh.”

  I felt a pang of relief. I had been excited to be surrounded by attractive boys before I attended school, but now I wondered what was wrong with me. I was pretty sure Firian was my date to the dance, but he was also my familiar and I knew I had to be discreet.

  It wasn’t just that, though. I didn’t like the thought of Harris with Daisy. I also liked the idea of seeing Alec all dressed up tonight way too much. And then there was Montague, who seemed to be trying his best not to hurt me, but clearly liked me.

  “Charlotte, no one’s been bullying you again, have they?” Alec asked, sliding out of bed.

  “No.”

  “My incubus side…it picks up on some emotional things. I can’t help it. But it seems like you were crying. I understand that you probably have private feelings you don’t want to share with me, but I do want you to know that nobody harms my roommate. We might have our…internal conflicts. But we protect each other in this dorm.”

  “Master Blair just said I can’t go home for Christmas because of the safety issues…”

  “I see. I was wondering about that myself. You don’t have a magical community to keep you safe from Sinistrals.”

  “Yeah. I understand. I’m fine.”

  “I understand too,” he said. “My dad tried to break away from his family. That was how a succubus got a hold of him. The magical world can be stifling. Lots of teens and twenty-somethings get into trouble before they accept it. There’s a reason for the rules, but it doesn’t make it easy sometimes.”

  I bit my lip. My loins stirred as he walked closer to me and I was trying very hard not to stare at his tattooed forearms. I’d never been so close to a guy who worked out. I thought that wasn’t my thing; I wasn’t into jocks. But when you paired his muscles with studying and painting—? Plus he had a vaguely smoky smell I hadn’t noticed before. Like autumn woods with a tinge of some mysterious scent. If I tried to look down, I saw the suggestion of a bulge in his pants again and I started thinking about him climbing into the shower with me.

  Alec was like Man Concentrate. He needed some diluting because clearly I couldn’t handle him straight.

  “Don’t let them intimidate you,” he said.

  “Who?”

  “Anyone.” He raised his eyebrows at me, grazing over my rumpled shirt. Right now, we were basically dressed the same. He had never seen me in a dress before. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  By the time I walked out of the bathroom, I felt amazing.

  I mean, not to get too full of myself, but whenever I put on makeup or tried to do my hair in the past, it always looked a little off. The mountains of Georgia aren’t a hotbed of style anyway, but I never had a mom or anyone to show me the ways of girliness.

  Mom clearly had some idea, I thought, as I put on the dress. You didn’t buy a dress like this if you didn’t know how to rock a look. I felt like I knew more about her from the dress than all the little vague things Dad ever told me.

  I’d been working on my magic, and now I could give everything a little tweak so it looked like I wanted it to look in my head.

  My skin looked so clear! My hair looked so shiny! My dress was so gorgeous!

  Poor, naive little Charlotte.

  Firian was waiting for me in the hall. He looked really sharp with a forest green jacket that brought out the warm red and gold colors in his hair and eyes. A black bow tie, black pants and brown designer-looking shoes finished the ensemble. I wasn’t sure it matched, but he looked handsome, who cared.

  Most of all, I noticed his eyes. His beautiful golden eyes, with a hint of mystery—and a hint of something else that smacked of desire. I tried to look away only to meet his hands, reaching for me. He brushed my hair off my shoulders. I don’t know why he did that, and I didn’t ask. The brief touch of his deft fingers sent a ripple of yearning through me.

  What is this?

  I was probably staring too much. “Firian—uh—wow.”

  “Is it okay?” he asked. “Sometimes my clothes turn out strange. I just think of something and then I’m wearing it, and I’m not always sure my ideas—“

  “You look…good.” I was getting flushed.

  “You look amazing,” he said.

  “The dress isn’t too much?”

  “I love that it is verging on too much.”

  I twitched, wanting with all of my being to take his hand. Or better yet, for him to take mine.

  But I knew that was forbidden.

  “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of attention tonight,” he said, in a low voice that was slightly possessive. “And any man that asks you to dance, I’ll be keeping a close eye on.”

  “The night air is really…potent, huh?” I said, trying to ruin the mood. I mean, someone needed to ruin the mood.

  “It’s just my job,” he said, a little more lightly.

  The energy between me and Firian had been building quietly for these past few months. We never admitted it, but we both felt it. It was getting harder to ignore. I started walking a step ahead, trying not to succumb.

  As soon as I stepped out the door, I hesitated.

  The parking lots of Merlin College were usually so empty that come to think of it, I hadn’t even realized we had any parking lots. Now I noticed, because cars were driving by Guinevere Hall and chauffeurs were stepping out to open doors for beautiful girls that even from afar, seemed to practically sparkle with a combination of charm and—I had to assume—capital G-Glamour. Magic. They could not be that perfect, right?

  Once the girls started walking up the steps, picking up their skirts, the chauffeurs drove on and parked in the lot. Some of them were milling around talking to each other and others were asleep in their cars.

  “Maybe I should hang out with those guys,” I said.

  “The chauffeurs?”

  “They look more like my kind than the students. Holy shit. These cars. That looks like a Transformer…that one looks like it belongs to Scrooge McDuck…and BMW. I recognize BMW. Why do I get the feeling that’s the junk car?” A few were modern luxury cars, but most of the cars looked very old but impeccably maintained, and I just somehow knew they had been in these families for years, and had never been considered cheap.

  “Don’t think about the cars,” Firian said. “These are rich warlocks. We know this.”

  “But…I never realized they were that rich.”

  “Money doesn’t mean anything,” Firian said. “I live in a cabin and run around in the woods. I’m happy.”

  “Oh god. You know who never says that? Rich people.”

  “I bet they say it all the time.” He extended a hand. “Let’s go tackle this.”

  “You know who doesn’t say we should ‘tackle’ something? A confident person.” I looked at the hand. I probably shouldn’t take the hand. But I wanted to touch him so badly. He must have felt the same.

  So we walked into the ballroom together, hand in hand, holding our breath.

  Yes, Merlin College had a ballroom, Guinevere Hall. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that a place built in the 1890s had a ballroom, but I was charmed that it was still being used just as it had been back then. Even the lighting looked like it hadn’t changed in a century. Early electric fixtures hung from the ceiling on chains, and the wall was lined in shaded lights, all of them low so it gave the room a candlelight effe
ct. Floor to ceiling windows were hung with heavy ivory curtains in multiple layers of draping. Above my head was a very tall ceiling that arched up with paintings of knights and ladies and horses forming a border and then above that was fancy molding in big circular shapes around the chandeliers.

  It was a lot to take in.

  And then there were the witches and warlocks. The girls were even more sparkly up close. Everywhere I looked I saw what I would have assumed were the crown jewels of different nations if they were in glass cases, sweeping gowns with lace and beadwork or simple but elegant lines, perfectly styled waves of hair or buns with feathers in them.

  I expected that attending the dance with my familiar would raise some eyebrows, but when I walked in, I swear I heard all the string instruments of the quartet in the corner screech like a record player stopping before they got back to the music.

  A couple hundred gorgeous faces turned to look at me, and then they looked away and tried to pretend they hadn’t seen anything.

  My teeth actually started chattering with nerves.

  “Are we doing this or not?” Firian asked me through his teeth. His cheeks had acquired a faint rose hue. I couldn’t even call it a blush, it was too subtle, but it was there. His eyes urged me to hold fast.

  “We’re doing this.”

  Master Blair spotted us across the room. “That—dress.” His eyes widened.

  “Um…”

  He looked like the sight of me had rendered him speechless.

  “It’s—I mean, it’s a very striking garment,” he said. “One would not forget it.”

  I tried to not die before I’d even danced to one song. “Th—thank you. Do I need to know anything that would be different from all the other balls I’ve attended?”

  He smiled. “Not really. Since magical schools are segregated by gender all through university, witches and warlocks must do all their courting at these balls and during summer vacations. So for most of the students, this is a thrilling opportunity to mingle. But they have also been unchanged since the dawn of time. The balls—ah, Harris, you know all about it, don’t you?” Master Blair waved at Harris as he walked by with Daisy.