“Ms. Martin, I…” Mr. Qureshi trails, then shakes his head. “We have dealt with the Twisted for years, as have countless other witches with medium powers, and none of them have ever been able to communicate with them. I dislike clinging to pessimism, but I don’t want to give anyone false hope.”
“But it can’t hurt to let her try and talk to them, right?” Rafe asks.
I could give him a big sloppy kiss for that, but I decided to maintain some small amount of decorum. Making out with another student in the headmaster’s office probably won’t help me convince him that my plan to help the Twisted is a solid one.
“It’s far too dangerous,” Mr. Qureshi says. “If I allow you to go speak to them, you might get dragged into their shadows. It’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”
“So, you’re just going to let them stay down there, wherever that is?” My jaw aches, pulsing along with that stupid pounding in my head as my temper thins out.
Mr. Qureshi frowns, the lines on his face deepening. “We’re working on a solution. More specifically, the staff is working on a solution. Trust me. None of us wants to leave them in the state they are currently trapped in. What I won’t do is send a student anywhere near that holding area.”
My eyes sting and I stand much faster than I mean to. “I’m already at risk since I can’t find my body. Why can’t—”
“That’s my final word, Ms. Martin.” Mr. Qureshi frowns, then smooths out his tone to say, “I’m sorry.”
This is so unfair. I swallow a growl and push past Kaz into the hallway before I say something epically stupid that burns every bridge I’ve made so far. I’m halfway to the dorms by the time Rafe catches up. He doesn’t say anything as we continue to walk, and after a few moments in his presence, my anger eases up a bit.
I sigh. “On a scale of after school special to reality TV, how ridiculous was my storming out?”
Rafe laughs. “Maybe somewhere in the middle. I don’t blame you though. Wanting to help but not being able to is the worst feeling ever. Trust me, I know.”
Reaching for his hand, I lace my fingers with his. “I’m sorry. You’ve got enough on your brain without having to worry about all of this. I should be focusing on helping you deal with your mommy issues so you can find your sister.”
“This is important too. Because if I ever get Twisted, I definitely want someone to talk to.” Rafe winks. “But you know I’m going to help you right? Just because Mr. Qureshi won’t tell us where they’re keeping the Twisted doesn’t mean we give up. Yasmin and Haya are still looking at those blueprints. Maybe they’ll find whatever this holding area is, and we can go ourselves.”
“Or…” my brain whirrs as another crazy idea hits me. “We could search for the one we encountered in the woods.”
Rafe stops and looks down at me. “I don’t know. That sounds way more dangerous than facing them in a contained holding area.”
Fear flickers across his face and I can’t really blame him. It’s one thing for me to want to go after this thing. While I have the ability to keep it at bay, to protect myself, he doesn’t have that luxury. I really can’t ask him to come with me if I decide to try and hunt down the Twisted Ghost. No matter how much I want to.
I turn to face him fully, resolving not to drag him into danger again if I can absolutely help it. “You’re right. We’ll wait to see what Yasmin and Haya find. In the meantime,” I lift up onto my toes and brush my lips across his, “we need to have a much more pleasant discussion.”
Rafe grins and nuzzles my nose. “Why? You don’t make out with all your friends? Dang, guess I’ve been doing it wrong all these years.”
Swatting his shoulder, I cut off his laughter with another kiss. One thing is for absolute certain, this adorable fox shifter is making the idea of passing on less and less attractive every day. I might be in more trouble than I initially realized.
Chapter Twenty-One
The weekend passes somewhat peacefully, mainly filled with sleeping, eating, and yeah, a little kissing. It’s nice to rest outside of the Healing Ward where I was under constant surveillance. Rafe and I fall into major cliché category, taking long walks in the woods, holding hands, and ducking our friends.
We encase ourselves in a relationship bubble, ignoring the threats pressing in around us, at least for a few days. Sometimes it’s easier to pretend the hard stuff doesn’t exist, to block out the rest of the world. Besides, I’d rather contemplate exactly what’s going on between Rafe and me.
Even though lots of other academy students have a loose attitude about sex, what with the zero percent chance of pregnancy or disease and the whole supposed-to-move-on thing, I'm not like that. This is not that.
It's already something more.
I don't know what I was like in my life. Apart from that flash of a memory of what might have been a romantic encounter, at least for now, I'm not a casual hookup kind of girl. Not a friends with benefits person either.
But what promises can we make? What future is there for me and Rafe? That thought is too depressing to voice aloud.
So we don't say much. We don't ever have a DTR, a discussion about our commitment. All of our promises come through our lips, through our touches. Silent, yet somehow just as serious, just as strong as if we'd spoken them.
It scares me a little. Not as much as the Twisted, but then again, I was fine taking one of
