The searing liquid trailed like molten lava down my throat. I gasped and struggled for air, and after a small fit of coughs and a sneeze, I said, “Now I know why they call it firewater.”

She laughed, pretending to be amused, and I gave her a second to come to her point. We weren’t friends. She didn’t invite me here to make small talk. And my curiosity was getting the better of me, no matter how hard I pretended otherwise. So I took another searing drink and held my cup out for more.

I could be cool. I could hang with kids who wouldn’t give me the time of day. Who quite possibly didn’t know my name. I could be normal.

Tabitha refilled my cup, pouring from a tall bottle before Joss Duffy grabbed it from her. She lunged to snatch it back, but he held it at arm’s length, just out of her reach.

“Didn’t you learn to share?” he asked, clearly having had too much already. He lost his footing, caught himself, then raised the bottle in salute.

“That’s from my dad’s liquor cabinet,” she said. “Don’t drink it all. I’ll have to dilute it enough as it is.”

Joss nodded, then winked at me. “Hey, McAlister. Long time no see.” His Riley High letter jacket looked freshly cleaned, the red and black combination striking.

I offered a quick smile. “Actually, we saw each other in sixth today.”

“Oh.” He snickered. “I don’t really pay attention in that class.”

He tried to step closer and stumbled into me instead. I braced myself for both a fall and a vision, but nothing happened besides almost getting knocked unconscious. I pushed him off me, spilling half my strawberry vodka in the process.

“My bad,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “You look nice tonight.”

“So,” Tabitha said, angling her shoulders to block Joss, completely dismissing him. He shrugged and staggered back to the fire, the bottle tipped at his mouth.

“So?” I asked, taking another drink. It seemed the more I drank, the easier it became to swallow the hot liquid.

“You and Jared?” she asked, and I realized she had been biding her time, waiting for the opportunity to ply me with alcohol—a learned behavior—before asking the personal questions. “Are you guys a thing?”

she continued. “I mean, it seemed like you might be a thing there for about five minutes, but now you hardly look at each other. And yet he’s always near you. So, what gives?” She took a drink from her own cup, eyeing me in question from over the rim.

The world slid to the left a bit as I watched her, the alcohol affecting my equilibrium already. That was really fast. But as much fun as I was having, I just didn’t think I could bring myself to have a heart-to-heart with Tabitha Sind.

“We’re not a thing,” I said, taking another drink so I could hide behind my cup.

She brightened. “Oh, I’m sorry. I mean, I thought maybe—”

“Nope,” I said, cutting her off. “We’re just friends.”

“Jared!” Her tone took on a sharp pitch that cut through the frigid air.

I frowned at her. “Right. Jared. We’re not—”

“You came.”

She stepped closer, and I realized Jared was behind me. I closed my eyes and let out a long, exaggerated huff of air. How on earth did he find me?

“I didn’t think you’d come.” She was lying. Was that why she’d invited me? As a way to get Jared to come to her stupid party? I felt so used. And nauseated. Though one had nothing to do with the other.

Before I could even look at him, the world tilted just a little too far to the left. I doubled over and heaved, an act that could not possibly be appealing.

“Uh-oh,” Tab said, smiling at Jared, utterly love struck. “Looks like someone isn’t feeling well.” She reached over and took the sleeve of Jared’s jacket. That much I could see through my hair, though the image was upside down. “Why don’t we leave her alone for a bit?”

When my gaze finally made its way up strong legs, fit hips, masculine hands, long arms … up, up, up to wide shoulders, a beautiful mouth, a perfect nose, and eyes so dark, they glittered—I realized he was looking not at Tabitha but at me. And his expression was not a happy one.

“Who gave her alcohol?” he asked.

“What?” Tabitha asked, placing a hand over her chest. “She’s been drinking?”

He shot her a glare so hard, dynamite couldn’t have penetrated it. Then he bent down, pulling out of her grip with the movement, and scooped me up. The world spun and my stomach heaved again—thankfully, to no avail—as he carried me a short distance from the fire.

He plopped me onto my feet, then steadied me when I almost crumpled. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What? I got invited to a party.”

He grabbed hold of my upper arm. “With everything that’s going on, you decide to go to a party?”

With feelings shredded, I jerked out of his grip. “Why are you even here? Why did you come?”

“What do you mean?”

I wondered what I meant as well. Was I talking about the party or just in general? “I can go to a stupid party if I want to, Jared. I can be just as normal as the next girl.”

“You’re not normal, and you know it.”

His words cut for some bizarre reason, no matter how accurate they were. When he tried to take hold of me again, I jerked away again.

His expression hardened. “We need to get you home.”

“Why? So I can be a prisoner for the rest of my life? Is this what it’s going to be like forever?”

“Until we figure out who wants to harm you, yes. You’ll just have to deal with that.”

“What are you talking about? You killed that reporter guy who tried to kidnap me.”

“And he was sent by someone else. Someone smart enough to make your death look like an accident.”

“What do you mean? What accident?”

“Think about it, Lorelei. You’re the prophet. The one who’s supposed to save the world, literally, yet you’re hit by a truck and suddenly slated to die? Does that sound wrong to you?”

I stepped back, growing wary. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that your near-death experience was planned. It had to be. Someone wanted to stop the prophecy from coming true. Why else would you have been scheduled to die before you could fulfill it? A centuries-old prophecy?”

I pulled my bottom lip through my teeth. “Someone tried to kill me? On purpose?”

“I believe so. And maybe that’s why I couldn’t take you when I was supposed to. Maybe I knew.

Somewhere deep inside, I knew it was wrong.”

“I thought— I thought you couldn’t take me, because—” I stopped before I embarrassed myself even further. Admitting that I thought he couldn’t take me because he had feelings for me, because he’d fallen madly in love with me. would probably have him in stitches.

I tried to walk past him, but he blocked me and stepped closer. He didn’t try to grab me again. With arms at his sides, he watched me through his glittering gaze. His dark irises didn’t reflect the light from the campfire so much as absorb it, turn it into something magical, something mesmerizing.

As though fighting with himself, he bit down, locked gazes with mine, then stepped even closer. He lifted a finger and ran it over my mouth, along my jaw. “Your grandparents were right, Lorelei.”

The word “grandparents” brought me skyrocketing back to reality. I nodded and swallowed down the bitter taste in my mouth, the same one I got every time he mentioned them. “Right. When they told you to stay away from me.”

“They didn’t say that. Not really. They just— They reminded me of the truth.”

“Of course. And what truth would that be?”

His gaze didn’t waver as he said, “That I am not worthy of you.”

If the world had fallen out from under me, I would have been less surprised.

“That I have no right to pursue you. I have nothing to offer,” he continued. “No future here on Earth.”

I was fairly certain my jaw was hanging open at that point.

“That you are destined to do great things. That you were prophesied about over four centuries ago.” He

Вы читаете Death, Doom, and Detention
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату