As she went to the door and opened it, one last idea exploded in my head. “At least talk to my mom about this. Please. She’s dealing with missing magicals, too. It could be related!”
“We are concerned with pixies, not what your mother is investigating.” Victoria looked back. “Indeed, if I know the US and its magical secrecy, you shouldn’t even have told me that.”
She walked out without another word. The door closed behind her with a damning click followed by the subtle thrum of hexes kicking back into action, and tears began to trickle down my cheeks.
O’Halloran had cast me out of my own home, I had dreams of the people I loved putting me in a box, my parents were on the other side of an ocean, I’d been marched out of the engineering lab like a traitor while everyone gossiped and whispered about me, and yet this was the moment where I felt more helpless and alone than I ever had before.
To add insult to injury, the loudspeaker kicked in fifteen minutes later, and Victoria’s warning went out to the Institute, loud and bitterly clear: “We are now on code red lockdown. Hunters, this is now a matter of life and death. Lethal force may be used on the enemy. Everyone else, remain in your rooms until you are otherwise instructed. Do not be alarmed that comms have been blocked in and out of the Institute. It is necessary to avoid interference with hunting devices and will resume function when it is safe to do so. Internal calls can still be made, if you feel isolated and need to speak someone. Any disobedience will result in hexed imprisonment for the duration. We are in this together. Have courage. We will not fail, as long as everyone does their part.”
I’m sorry, pixies. I tried…
Nineteen
Genie
No need for burning invisibility spells when I had razor-sharp reflexes. I’d slunk through the North Wing like a cat burglar. Now, I liked to think I had a decent grasp of surface-world lingo, but I’d never fully understood that term. Did they steal cats? Were they catfooted? That was another weird one. Humans didn’t have foot pads to soften every step. I supposed it didn’t matter. Basically, I was being super stealthy, avoiding hunters like a boss.
But still no friggin’ pixies. It was getting stupid now. I hadn’t even caught a glimpse of one, and I’d been searching for a good hour. At least I had some nice things to think about, to pass the time between non-sightings.
I wondered if Nathan was having better luck. I pictured him James Bonding around the East and West Wings with his specterglass. He still didn’t strike me as the hunting type, but he had to have some skills or he wouldn’t be here. Unless he’d gotten in purely on intellectual merit. I supposed that wasn’t impossible.
It still felt pointless to dwell on him in a romantic sense, but I couldn’t resist. He’d seemed so different. More relaxed, despite my haunting attempt. And he hadn’t been as nervous or shy around me this time. It felt like we were slowly getting to know each other’s idiosyncrasies. You know, like when you introduced a new pet to the old one, and they needed a bit of time to settle into the idea. Plus, I’d been told I made an intimidating first impression. My sense of humor wasn’t to everyone’s taste, but maybe he was learning to like it.
Such nice eyes. I grinned, envisioning the way they crinkled up when he smiled. The smile suited him better than bumbling confusion, although the bumbling confusion wasn’t without its charms. Man, I sounded like such a cheesy romantic. Was that even how I thought of him? I’d enjoyed our talk. I liked his company. Did that spell romance? Not necessarily. It could just as easily be the start of a friendship. Then I remembered the gray T-shirt and the sound of his laughter, and my heart did a weird clench. If I wasn’t careful, butterflies would be freed from their cage. And that signaled the rise of awkward, tongue-tied Genie—a rare creature who hadn’t been seen for many, many years.
“He’s not even my type,” I told the statue of a unicorn. But did types really matter? All my crushes on men who were “my type” hadn’t ended well, so maybe not. And change was a good thing, right?
I leaned on the unicorn and wrapped an arm around its neck. “Who am I kidding? It’s not like it could go anywhere, so what’s the use?”
It didn’t matter who the guy was, my dad would never agree to it. He’d laid down the law on that front. I could have my pick of stuffy Atlanteans, but no regular magicals. And while a secret romance sounded exciting in theory, in reality it required a lot of exhausting logistics. I wasn’t denying there were some absolute peaches in Atlantis, but an arranged anything didn’t float my proverbial boat. Romance and love shouldn’t be forced. It needed to be organic, or it would always feel like it was lacking. I believed this as someone who had no idea about love or marriage or any of it, of course, but my heart told me that was how it was meant to be.
“He did a hula dance. Can you believe it?” I asked the unicorn. A guy who could be silly was attractive as heck. Perhaps it was because he was slightly older and didn’t take himself as seriously as younger guys. Whatever it was, it had reeled me in—hook, line… but not quite sinker. Not yet.
Strolling away from the unicorn, I realized I’d somehow circled back to the Repository. It was technically part of the center, not belonging to
