“Your eyes,” Blake whispered, a grin teasing his lips, “are starting to glow.”
Closing my eyes, I struggled to control my swirling emotions. When I was about 40 percent sure I wasn’t going to jump on him like a monkey and snap his neck, I reopened my eyes. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“But I am.”
This wasn’t the time for evasive comments. I glanced toward the front of the classroom and saw Matthew writing on the chalkboard, his face pale. He was talking, but I didn’t hear anything.
I tucked my hair back behind one ear and kept my hand there. Anything to keep me from hitting Blake, because it was a real possibility that I would. “We gave you a chance.” I kept my voice low. “We won’t do it again.”
“But I think you will.” He leaned over the small space, coming too close and causing my muscles to lock up. “Once you hear what I have to offer.”
A crazed laugh bubbled up my throat as I kept my eyes fixed on Matthew. “You are so, so dead.”
Lesa glanced over her shoulder questioningly. I forced a smile.
“Speaking of dead,” he murmured once Lesa had turned back around. “I see the long lost twin has returned.” He picked up his pen and started writing. “I bet Daemon is so thrilled. Ah, which reminds me, I’m pretty sure he’s the one who mutated you.”
My hand closest to him curled. A faint white light danced over my knuckles, flicking like the core of a flame. The knowledge of who mutated me was dangerous. Besides the ramifications Daemon would face if it got out in the Luxen community, the DOD could use it against us. Just like they had with Dawson and Bethany.
“Careful,” he said. “I can see you still need to work on your anger.”
I shot him a dark, promising look. “Why are you here? For real?”
He put his finger over his lips. “Shush. I need to learn about…” He glanced at the board, eyes narrowing in concentration. “Different types of organisms. Yawn.”
It took every ounce of my self-control to sit through that class. Even Matthew looked like he was having trouble, forgetting where he was going with his lecture every couple of minutes. I caught Dawson’s stare once and wished I could communicate to him…
Wait. Couldn’t I communicate to Daemon? We’d done it before, but he’d always been in his Luxen form when it happened. Taking a shallow breath, I lowered my gaze to the blurred lines on my notebook and concentrated as hard as I could.
Daemon?
The space between my ears buzzed like a TV on mute. No discernible sound but a high-frequency hum. Daemon? I waited, but there was no response.
Frustrated, I blew out a breath. I needed to find a way to let him know that Blake was back, like, really back and in school. I figured Dawson could get word to him, but there was no telling how Dawson would act if I got up to use the restroom and told him that the douchebag beside me was Blake.
I glanced at said douchebag. No doubt about it, Blake was good-looking. He rocked the whole messy hair and golden skin surfer-boy look. But beneath that easy grin lurked a killer.
The moment the bell rang, I gathered my stuff and headed toward the door, shooting Matthew a look. Somehow he seemed to know, because he waylaid Dawson and—I hoped—would keep Dawson from throwing Blake through a window in front of everyone once Matthew shared who Blake was. Lunch period was next, but I dug my cell out of my messenger bag.
I made it about three steps before Blake stalked up behind me in the hall and cupped my elbow. “We need to talk,” he said.
I tried to pull my arm free. “And you need to let go of me.”
“Or what? Are you going to do something about it?” His head angled toward me and I caught the familiar scent of his aftershave. “No. Because you know what the risk of exposure is.”
I gritted my teeth. “What do you want?”
“Only to talk.” He steered me into an empty classroom. Once inside, I tore my arm free as he locked the door. “Look—”
Acting on instinct, I dropped my bag on the floor and let the Source soar through me. Whitish-red light spread over my arms, crackling in the air. A ball of white light the size of a softball built above my palm.
Blake rolled his eyes. “Katy, I just want to talk. You don’t need—”
I released the energy. The light shot across the room in a bolt. Blake darted out of the way and the light smacked into the chalkboard. The intensity melted the middle of the green slate and the smell of burning ozone filled the air.
The Source built in me again, and this time I wasn’t going to miss. It rushed down my arms to my fingertips. In that moment, I really didn’t know if it was powerful enough to kill Blake or just do some serious damage. Or maybe I did and I just didn’t want to admit it.
Rushing behind a huge oak desk, Blake raised his hand. All the chairs to the left of me flew to the right, smacking into my legs and crowding me. My aim was off and the energy ball skyrocketed over Blake’s head, slamming into the circular clock above the board. It exploded in a hundred dazzling pieces of plastic and glass that rained down…
And then the pieces stopped in midair, hung there as if attached to invisible strings. Below them, Blake straightened, his eyes luminous.
“Crap,” I whispered, my gaze darting to the door. There was no way I’d make it there and if he’d frozen those pieces, most likely everything was frozen. The door. People outside the room, I imagined.
“Are you done yet?” Blake’s voice was harsh in my ears. “Because you’re going to tire yourself out here in a few seconds.”