Hidden

“Because I was curious. I checked the nerd herd’s colors before you left, but, well, I just realized how invasive that sounds.”

I furrowed my forehead at her. “It’s not like you’re reading our minds or anything like that. Is it?”

“No!” she assured me. “But the longer I have this True Sight stuff, and the more I practice it, the more real it gets for me. Zoey, I think it tells me things about people—things that they sometimes would rather keep hidden.”

“Like Neferet. You said she’s dead-fish-eye color on the inside, and on the outside she’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah, like that. But also like what I’m seeing with you. It’s like Kramisha would say, I’m not keeping to my own business.”

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re seeing with me, and then I’ll tell you whether I think you’re poking too much into my business.”

“Well, since you’ve been back from the ritual at your grandma’s house, your colors are darker.” She paused, stared at me, shook her head, and then corrected herself. “No, that’s not totally accurate. It’s not that they’re just darker—it’s that they’re murkier. Like the purple and the silver got swirled together and muddied.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, starting to understand what she meant by violation. “I get that you see a difference in me, and that’s kinda strange, especially when you said my colors don’t usually change. But what does it mean to you?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I think it means you’re confused about something—something serious. It’s bothering you. Really messing with your head. Is that kinda right?”

I nodded. “That’s kinda right.”

“And does it make you feel weird that I know that?”

I nodded again. “Yeah, a little.” I thought about it for a second and then added, “But here’s the truth—I’d feel less weird if I knew I could trust you not to blab to everyone that my colors are murky and I’m real confused about something. That’s the violation part.”

“Yeah.” She sounded sad. “That’s what I thought, too. I want you to know that you can trust me. I’ve never been a blab-er. Also, this gift Nyx gave me when I was Marked, well, it’s totally incredible. Zoey, I can see again.” Shaylin looked like she could burst into tears. “I don’t want to mess it up. I’m going to use the gift the way Nyx wants me to.”

I could tell she was seriously upset, and I felt bad for her—I especially felt bad that I had had something to do with her being upset. “Hey, Shaylin, it’s okay. I understand what it’s like to have a gift you feel a big responsibility for and don’t want to mess up. Hell, you’re talking to the Queen of Mess Up.” I paused, and then added, “It’s part of what I’m confused about right now. I do not want to make one more immature, stupid, wrong decision. What I do and say affects way more people than just me. When I make crappy decisions it’s like a domino mess up. Fledglings, vampyres, and humans can all be screwed. That sucks, but it doesn’t change the fact that I do have a gift from Nyx, and I am responsible for how it’s used.”

Shaylin thought about that for a while, and I sipped my brown pop. I was actually liking talking to her. It was way better than brooding about Aurox and Heath and Stark and Neferet and—

“Okay, how about this,” Shaylin interrupted my internal non-brooding brood. “What if I see colors change for a person? Is it my responsibility to tell someone—someone like you?”

“What do you mean? Like come to me and say ‘Hey, Zoey, your colors are all murky. What’s up?’”

“Well, maybe, but only if we’re friends. What I was thinking about was more like today when I saw Nicole. Her colors were like the rest of Dallas’s group—all blood-like, swirled together with browns and blacks—like something bleeding in a sandstorm. Last night, at the stables, hers had changed. There was still a rusty red there, but it looked clearer, brighter, but not in a bad way. More like in a getting cleaner way. It’s weird, but I swear I saw some blue in her. Not like sky blue, though. More like the ocean. That’s what made me think that the bad in her might be washing away, and after I thought it, it felt right.”

“Shaylin, what you’re saying is really confusing,” I said.

“Not to me it isn’t! It’s getting less and less confusing. I just know things.”

“I get that, and I believe you’re telling me the truth. The problem is that your knowing is so subjective. It’s like you’re grading life, and people are the answers, but instead of your people answers being true-false, where it’s easy to judge whether what you’re getting is right or wrong, they’re essays. And that means your response could depend on lots of different things. None of it is black and white.” I sighed. My own analogy was making my head hurt.

“But, Zoey, life isn’t black and white or true and false, and neither are people.” She sipped her pop, which I noticed was clear. I was thinking that I really didn’t understand clear pop—it had no caffeine in it and never seemed sweet enough—when she continued, “I understand what you’re trying to say, though. You believe I see people’s colors. You just don’t believe in my judgment of them.”

I started to deny it, and say something that would make her feel better, but a nudge from within had me changing my mind. Shaylin needed to hear the truth. “Basically, yes, that’s it.”

“Well,” she said, straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin, “I think my judgment is good. I think it’s getting better and better, and I want to use my gift to help. I know we have a fight coming. I heard what Neferet did to your mom, and how she’s chosen Darkness over Light. You’re going to need someone like me. I can see inside people.”

She was right. I did need her gift, but I also needed to know I could trust her judgment. “Okay, so, let’s start. How about you keep your eyes open? Let me know if you see anyone’s color changing.”

“The first one I want to report is Nicole. Erik told me about her. I know she’s been real bad in the past. But the truth is in her colors, and they say she’s changing.”

“All right. I’ll keep that in mind.” I raised my brows at her. “Speaking of keeping stuff in mind—I’m not being mean or anything like that, but you need to keep an eye on Erik. He’s not always—”

“He’s arrogant and selfish,” she interrupted me, meeting my gaze steadily. “He’s gotten by on how hot he is and how talented he is. Life’s been easy for him, even after you dumped him.”

“Did he tell you I dumped him?” I couldn’t tell if she was being bitchy or not. She didn’t sound like it, but then again, I didn’t know her very well. It did seem like every time I saw her, I saw Erik. Not that I cared. Seriously. It wasn’t jealous. It was more like I felt responsible for warning her.

“He didn’t have to tell me. About a billion other kids beat him to it,” she said.

“I don’t have any hard feelings toward Erik. I mean, he can be with whoever he wants. If you like him, that’s no problem at all with me.” I realized I was having a bout of verbal IBS, but I couldn’t seem to stop talking. “And he doesn’t want to be with me anymore, either. That’s way over. It’s just that Erik—”

“Is a dickhead.” Aphrodite’s voice saved me. She walked past us, yawning, and stuck her head in one of the fridges. “And now you’ve heard it from two of his ex-girlfriends. Ex being the most important part of that sentence.” She came over to the table and put a jug of orange juice and a bottle of what I guessed was super expensive champagne down in front of the empty chair beside me. “Of course, Z didn’t call him a dickhead. She was being nice.” As she spoke, Aphrodite went back to the fridge and got into the freezer. There was the sound of glasses clanking against each other. When she came back to the table she was holding a frosty crystal glass that was long and slender, like you see people drinking out of at New Year’s Eve parties on TV. “Me, I’m not so nice. Dick. Head. That’s our Erik.” She popped the champagne cork, sloshed a tiny bit of orange juice in the glass, and then filled it to almost overflowing with bubbly champagne. She grinned at the glass and said, “Mimosa—as my mom would say, breakfast of champions.”

“I know what Erik is,” Shaylin said. She didn’t sound pissed. She didn’t sound pleased. She sounded sure of herself. “I also know what you are.”

Aphrodite raised one blond brow at her and took a long drink of her mimosa. “Do tell.”

Uh-oh, I thought. I suppose I should’ve done something to stop what was going to happen, but it was a little like standing on train tracks and trying to push a car out of the way. I was more likely to get smashed than to get the car out of trouble—so I gawked and drank my brown pop instead.

“You’re silver. That reminds me of moonlight, which tells me you’ve been touched by Nyx. But you’re also a buttery yellow color, like the light of a small candle.”

“Which tells you what?” Aphrodite studied her well-manicured fingernails, clearly not caring about Shaylin’s answer.

“Which tells me that, like a little candle, you could be easily blown out.”