“Did you finish that landscape for Aurelia’s class?” he asked as we approached the dining hall.
“Almost. Just need to add some final touches to the storm clouds once the paint dries up a bit.” I hesitated before adding, “She said my work lacks emotional connection.”
Linden snorted. “That’s such bullshit. Your paintings are amazing. You capture the water like... like you’re part of it.”
“I mean… I am,” I said. Only a handful of people, including Linden, knew of my heritage. “It’s easy to capture the power of something you’ve seen a thousand times.”
“Do you miss it?” he asked, glancing over at me as his green skin shimmered in the sun. “The ocean?”
I shrugged. “I miss being in the water. But I don’t miss all the garbage and pollution.”
The cafeteria was bustling when we entered, filled with the chatter of students unwinding after classes. The scent of tonight’s special, some kind of pasta dish, wafted through the air, making my stomach growl even louder.
“Let’s grab that table by the window,” Linden said, pointing to a small, empty table in the corner. “The plant next to it needs to be watered.”
I nodded and followed him through the food line, loading my tray with pasta, garlic bread, and an apple. One benefit of fucking and sneaking into the school pool regularly was that I could eat whatever I wanted without worrying about my figure.
Once seated, Linden poured a glass of water into the nearby Ficus and then dove into his food with the enthusiasm of someone who’d been starving for days rather than hours. I ate more slowly, watching the other students around us. It was a habit I couldn’t break. I enjoyed observing, analyzing, and, of course, keeping my distance.
“Oh!” Linden said suddenly, his mouth still half-full of pasta. “Almost forgot to ask. Are you going to the Halloween party in a couple weeks?”
I raised an eyebrow. “The one at the quad? Where half the student body gets drunk on enchanted punch and makes terrible decisions? Pass.”
“Come on, Nerion. It’s our junior year! We should be having fun.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “I could make you an awesome mask. Something that would go with that whole mysterious vibe you’ve got going.”
“I don’t have a ‘vibe,’” I said, making air quotes with my fingers.
“You absolutely do. The brooding artist thing works for you.” He grinned. “Seriously though, I’ve been singing plants into shapes since I was a kid. I could make you a mask that would be the envy of everyone there.”
I stabbed at my pasta, considering it. Halloween was the one night when everyone wore masks, both literal and figurative. Maybe for once I could blend in rather than stand out with my too-pale skin, flame-red hair, and the scales that never quite disappeared from my skin.
“If—and that’s a big if—I agree to go, this mask better be spectacular,” I said finally. “It better be so spectacular that people gasp in shock, horror, surprise, or all three.”
Linden’s face lit up. “You won’t regret it! I’ll make something so amazing you’ll want to hang it on your wall afterward.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. “Don’t get too excited. I said, ‘if.’”
“Sure, sure,” he said, clearly already planning the design in his head. “But you’ll go. And who knows? Maybe you’ll actually have fun for once.”
Fun wasn’t really my concern. Fun was dangerous when you were a siren who could accidentally enchant someone witha single hummed note. Fun could lead to attachment, and attachment could lead to... well, my own destruction.
But instead of voicing all that, I just took a bite of my garlic bread, waving it dismissively through the air. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll even havefun.”
Chapter 3
Teddy
“What did you think of the Quinn’s niece?” my mother asked the moment we were out of the restaurant. “I’ve heard she’s one of the most powerful witches in the family. She just got accepted to a French academy for her work in magical fashion design.”
“I didn’t know she was going to be there,” I replied flatly. “She was… sort of clingy.”
“Your father and I thought you might like to meet her,” she continued, clearly ignoring my comment. “She comes from a good family, she’s powerful, and she knows how to behave with witches of our stature.”
I couldn’t help but scoff. “You make her sound like a trained dog.”
“Theodore!”
My mother’s glare could have frozen hellfire. I tried not to wince under the intensity of it as we stood on the sidewalk waiting for our car. A few passersby glanced our way, curious about the tension crackling between us.