Malice (9 page)

“Who are you talking about?”

I took a step back. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “No one.”

“I
know
you’re not talking about Xavier. That proves my point. You shouldn’t go out with him if you’re not even interested in him. You know what he’s like. I just…I don’t want you to go out with him,” he finished dejectedly.

“Why do you care?”

He hesitated and turned away from me. I thought maybe he was done talking to me, too frustrated by the conversation to go on. But then he turned back around.

“I just don’t like the thought of you with him.”

“Are you like…jealous of him?” I asked, regretting it instantly. What an asinine question.

He hesitated, his face scrunching up in thought. “If I said I was, would that make a difference?”

I tossed my hands in the air as I spun on my heel. “No. Not if you don’t mean it.”

I stalked toward the house. This conversation was going in circles, getting us nowhere.

And yet, I could hear Finola and Daphne in the back of my mind. Both of them were telling me I should just let Tristan know how I felt. Now was as good of a time as any. Hell, it was probably a better time than any.

I was just too much of a coward to get the words out. I didn’t want to ruin the friendship we’d been building for years. But on the flipside, things had been so strained lately that I felt as if our friendship was crumbling anyway.

“Sammy,” Tristan said as his hand clamped down on my shoulder. His grip was strong enough to stop me in my tracks. My feet stopped moving but Tristan wasn’t prepared for me to stop. He took another step forward, gently bumping into me.

I wanted nothing more than to lean back and melt into him. Instead, I turned around slowly until I was facing him.

His green eyes scanned my face. Without thinking, I raised my hands up, so they encircled his neck. My heart was pounding as I pressed up on my tiptoes. I closed my eyes as one of my hands slid into Tristan’s hair. His head tilted toward mine and then we were kissing, my knees were melting. My lungs forgot they needed air.

His fingers dug into my hips pulling me closer. Then his hands skimmed up my back, pressing my body tightly to his. My fingers dug into his shoulders, surprising me with the corded muscles I felt rippling beneath my palms. I got lost in the taste of him, his scent, his hands coasting up and down my back. One hand tangled briefly in my hair before sliding back down again.

His mouth moved with mine, in a perfect rhythm, the kiss never breaking.

It was the kind of kiss that curls your toes, steals your breath, robs you of your common sense.

I let out a little whimper of disappointment when his grip on my waist loosened and he took a step back. My eyes fluttered open. For just a brief, blissful moment I thought that my friends were right. Letting Tristan know how I felt was a risk worth taking.

Then I saw the look on his face and my heart slammed against my chest.

“That,” Tristan said as he backed away, “can never happen again.”

“What?” My hands didn’t get the message as quickly. They slid down but didn’t fall away from him. My knees began to shake.

“I think…,” Tristan said slowly, carefully, as he pulled my hands away from his chest and then dropped them as if they were smelly, moldy gym socks. “I think maybe I was wrong. I think maybe you should go out with Xavier after all.”

“What? Why?” My voice sounded panicked, confused. This couldn’t be happening.

He shook his head and grimaced. “That kiss…”

“You kissed me back!” The tremble in my knees had migrated into my voice. I wanted to tell him that you don’t just kiss someone the way he’d kissed me and not feel anything. I didn’t. I was determined to at least try to hold onto the very last thread of dignity that I possessed.

His gaze didn’t meet mine and I was grateful. I didn’t want him to witness the tears that were creeping into my eyes, setting up camp at the most inappropriate time.

“I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry. I don’t feel that way about you. When a gorgeous girl sits on your lap, you react. It’s physiology. A gorgeous girl kisses you, you kiss her back. It’s like a reflex or something.”

He managed to make ‘gorgeous girl’ sound like an insult.

He wiped the kiss off with the back of his hand, as if it were so offensive he couldn’t allow it to linger on his lips. It probably would’ve hurt less if he’d kicked me in the stomach.

“You know what? I don’t feel that way about you, either,” I lied. A ribbon of absolute anguish coursed through my body. I’d dreamed of kissing Tristan for years but it had never gone like this.

I spun on my heel, part of me expecting him to stop me. When he didn’t, I hurried away, afraid the traitorous sobs would break free in front of him. Tears had been bad enough. I didn’t want to give him anymore of myself than I already had. I had wanted to march away with some dignity. Instead, after only a few steps, I began to run.

He didn’t chase after me.

And really, after the conversation we’d just had, I didn’t expect him to.

Something seismic had happened between us. Everything had shifted and now, all I could do was wait for the emotional dust to settle. Wait, to see if my heart would be left in ruins, scattered amidst the rubble.

“I need a potion,” I moaned as I slumped into a chair at The Rush. “A strong one,” I clarified as I let my forehead bang against the tabletop.

“You don’t want to use a love potion on Tristan. You know the side effects can be unpredictable,” Finola scolded.

I shook my head, turning it to the side so I could face her without lifting it off the table. “Not a love potion. A memory potion. I want to wipe Tristan’s memory so he’ll forget that I kissed him, forget that he told me it was a mistake, and forget that he said I should go out with Xavier.”

Finola stared at me a moment, likely wondering if I was going to tell her I was only kidding. When I said nothing, she let out a little sound of sympathy.

“Oh, Sam, I’m so sorry. I was so sure he…” She shook her head. “Never mind. What do I know about love and relationships?” Her gaze sliced across the room, her eyes followed the movement of someone.

My curiosity piqued, I raised my head in time to see Alex walk out the door. I mentally groaned but kept my disapproval to myself. Finola was a smart girl, the smartest girl I knew. Surely she’d realize sooner rather than later that lusting after a Necromancer just wasn’t a good idea.

Neither was lusting after your best friend.

We were both idiots.

She sighed. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s written all over your face. And I know that you’re right. But
you
know that the heart can be a traitorous, stubborn,
stupid
thing,” she said dramatically.

I didn’t argue because everything she said was right. “I need some sugar,” I decided as I hoisted myself out of the booth.

Finola’s hand latched onto my shoulder and she pushed me back down in my seat. “Sit. I’ll get it. It’s the least I can do.”

I didn’t argue. Not because I agreed with her but because I felt drained of any energy.

I hadn’t picked Tristan up that morning. I had no idea if he’d been expecting me. Maybe he was smart enough to assume I wouldn’t show. I couldn’t face him. My emotions had been teeter tottering between wanting to cry and wanting to kick him.

The moment my friends had shown up at my locker, they’d known something was wrong for the second day in a row. I couldn’t talk to them about Magnolia. But I could tell them about Tristan. I’d managed to avoid him the entire day. It hadn’t been easy. I needed to take new routes to every class. After school, I hung out in my Magical Methods classroom far longer than needed. I pestered the teacher with asinine questions about the assignment just to kill time. Then, just for good measure I killed a few more minutes in the bathroom.

By the time I reached my locker he was gone. Whether he’d left with Julie, gotten a ride from Cecily, or found another way home, I had no idea.

With a sigh, I realized that this was why I should’ve kept my feelings to myself. This was what I’d been afraid of all along. Now I’d ruined our friendship and I had nothing to show for it.

I rested my elbow on the tabletop and propped my chin in my hand. My eyes scanned the street outside. I hadn’t thought anything would get my mind off of the Tristan debacle. Apparently I was wrong.

Levi was in the parking lot. Talking to a girl. And while that in itself wouldn’t have been too surprising—I was sure that to most, Levi was very appealing—what did surprise me was that the girl was Bree Davis. Bree was a senior too. I didn’t know her well but I did know that she and Xavier had dated on and off most of last year.

I wondered what Daphne would think of this.

I also wondered what Bree and Levi could possibly be talking about. Tristan had mentioned that Levi had been spending time at The Rush. I wondered if he was interviewing Bree or if his interests were more personal.

Finola returned with an extra large hot chocolate. It had a double heap of whipped cream that was decorated in candy sprinkles.

“Thanks,” I said when she placed it in front of me.

She had an identical drink. She immediately scooped off a hunk of the whipped topping and popped it in her mouth.

“What do you think he’s up to?” she asked.

I followed her line of sight. She’d spotted Levi too.

“I have no idea,” I admitted. “Tristan thinks he’s trouble.” I winced. I hadn’t wanted to bring him up again.

“How so?” Finola asked.

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. He was pretty insistent that I stay away from him but he wouldn’t elaborate.” I cocked my head to the side, watching Levi and Bree. They were leaning against his car. There was definite flirting going on. Bree laughed at something and then Levi backed up, opening the passenger door for her. She slid inside, disappearing from my sight as he closed the door. In minutes, he was pulling out of the lot and they were gone.

“What do you think that’s about?” Finola asked.

“Don’t know,” I answered.

She scrunched up her face in apology. “I hate to say it, but I agree with Tristan. There’s something about him that seems…off.”

“
Off
how? I’ve never noticed anything.” I realized then that wasn’t true. He’d been at the B&B for a week and I’d barely seen him. One of the few times I
had
seen him, I could’ve sworn he was trying to get into Mom’s private office.

“He just gives me a creepy feeling,” Finola admitted. “Have you noticed that every afternoon, he’s here chatting with a different girl?”

I shook my head. “No. I’ve gone home almost every afternoon right after school to help Mom out.”

“Well, trust me. Every day he’s chatting up someone new,” Finola said. “Yesterday when I got here, he started asking me all sorts of questions.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“What my last name was. Where my family was from. What affinity was the strongest. He wanted to know if anyone in my family had special abilities.” She frowned. “I told him that really wasn’t any of his business. I tried to be polite about it only because he’s staying at The Bella Luna. But the way he asked, it just really rubbed me the wrong way.”

“Well,” I said, trying to be diplomatic about it, “he is doing research. He kind of has to ask questions.”

She swirled her cocoa. “I suppose. It just felt…I don’t know. Invasive.”

I mulled that over. Invasive didn’t mean malevolent. Considering the subject he was dealing with, it was almost impossible not to upset some people.

“He showed up at my grandma’s house,” Finola continued. “She said she regretted letting him in because it seemed that all he wanted to do was stir up trouble.”

“Trouble?” I echoed. Her words were nearly identical to Tristan’s accusation.

She nodded. “No one likes to remember the days when The House of Negrescu had so much power. He asked her what she thought of them coming into power again.”

“That would never happen,” I insisted. It was before my time but the stories were still swirling around. Crime rate was at an all time high. Dark magic was used on a daily basis. People were afraid to leave their homes after dark. No one liked to talk about it but I’d heard tales of Strigan Necromancers raising the dead.

In all honesty, that act was what likely gave all Necromancers a bad reputation.

“We
hope
that never happens,” Daphne corrected. “No one likes to think about it. No one wants to talk about it. And no one wants Levi Devane walking around getting people riled up wondering if it’s possible. Not to mention dredging up family histories, making everyone in town question one another.”

Was that really what he was doing? That didn’t exactly sound like research. Maybe Finola’s grandma was exaggerating, or taking the conversation out of context.

Or maybe she was right and I should start seeing our guest in an entirely new light.

“All I’m saying is that he sure isn’t winning anyone over.”

“What does Daphne think?”

“What does she think of what?” Daphne asked as she dramatically dropped into the booth next to Finola.

I gaped at her for a second, embarrassed at being caught talking about her. And also annoyed with myself for being so wrapped up in conversation that I hadn’t noticed her come in.

“Levi,” Finola supplied.

“Oh,
pfftttt
,” Daphne said as she waved a hand my way. “I’m over it. I thought I was interested in him but I changed my mind. I have more important things to worry about. Like,” she said as her gaze swung between us, “the two of you. My love life is officially on hold until I’ve helped the two of you.”

I groaned and pulled my hands through my hair.

“You’ve done enough for me, thanks,” Finola dryly informed her.

Daphne leaned over and bumped Finola’s shoulder with her own. “Don’t give me that. I saw Alex at your locker this afternoon.”

“What?” I asked as my head snapped up from my drink.

The predictable coloring flushed through Finola’s cheeks again. She bit her lip and gave me a small nod. “He walked with me from Chem. Mostly we just talked about the assignment.  He didn’t say a word about the napkin,” she gave Daphne the evil eye, “thank goodness.”

Daphne smiled at her. “He was probably waiting for you to say something.”

Despite my own disastrous attempt at admitting my feelings to Tristan, I wanted to be supportive of Finola. Even if it meant putting my personal opinions aside. “You should’ve seen him grin when he saw your name on that napkin.”

Her face contorted into a look of hopeful disbelief. “Really?”

I nodded. “Really.”

“Absolutely,” Daphne tacked on. “As for you,” she said as she directed her attention to me, “Tristan will come around. Is there any chance you misunderstood?”

I shook my head and a contemptuous laugh burst out. There was no way I misunderstood. But I really didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to take that trip down memory lane. The journey had been bad enough the first time around. I would be stupid to want to revisit it.

“Absolutely positive,” I said.

She popped her lip out in a sympathetic pout. Then her gaze wandered out to the parking lot. “I can’t believe I’m going to ask this,” she said as her eyes scanned the crowd, “but which hussy did Levi leave with tonight?”

Finola and I shared a glance.

“Bree,” I said.

Daphne nodded solemnly. “That makes sense.”

“What does?” I asked.

“She’s eighteen,” Daphne said. “The night he gave me a ride into town, one of the first things he asked me was how old I was. But then he also asked if many of the seniors in our class were eighteen. I told him a lot weren’t, not this early in the year. I mentioned that Bree was, and Jude, Dane, you,” she said as she nodded her head toward Finola, “and a few others.”

“I saw him talking with Jude last night,” Finola said. “When I got here, he was talking with him. Then he walked away from him to talk to me.”

Daphne frowned. “I didn’t see him here last night.”

Poor Finola’s cheeks blazed again. She reached for her cup, averted her gaze to something across the room, and took a long sip.

Daphne tugged a lock of Finola’s hair to get her attention. “Did he leave when he saw me coming?” When Finola didn’t answer, she continued on. “Because I could’ve sworn when he saw me today, he nudged Bree into his car. Then he acted like he hadn’t seen me at all.” Now Daphne’s cheeks were burning. She, however, wasn’t embarrassed. She was furious. “Not that I care. But did he?”

Finola nodded meekly.

“That rat bastard,” Daphne muttered to no one in particular.

I was sure it was hard for her, being shunned like that. I was sure it hadn’t ever happened before. Her fury was already fading. Now, she just looked perplexed.

“Maybe it’s because you and I are both only seventeen,” I suggested. “He’s never really talked to me much either. But you know, if he’s interviewing people, maybe he’s not supposed to interview minors without consent. Or…something.” It was a pretty lame excuse. But it was all I had.

Daphne let out a haughty little huff. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Levi Devane is officially off my radar.”

Last night I had thought Tristan was maybe out of line for saying bad things about Levi. I hated to admit that maybe he was right. It was rare that someone managed to rub Finola the wrong way. But Levi apparently had done just that.

When Daphne insisted on a subject change, I didn’t argue.

~*~*~

The moss beneath my feet absorbed the sound of my footsteps, even under my heavy boots. At one time, the trail through the woods had been well worn. Tristan and I had passed over it hundreds, maybe even thousands of times over the years.

The smell of damp earth surrounded me. I pushed my way past obtrusive boughs that had worked their way across the path. Needles scratched at me but the scent of pine was familiar and comforting.

At the end of the trail was a stream. This time of year, the water level was low. I could still hear the churning and gurgling as I approached.

When Tristan and I were younger, we’d walk this path daily. We were usually accompanied by a picnic lunch and our overactive imaginations.