“What? Flying, fire, and ice aren’t enough?”
“Yes! I mean, of course they are.” I feel like a total jerk. “I’m sorry. I was just—”
“Chill, I’m just messing with you.” He holds out a hand, much like Amka did when she was calling up the wind. Except Flint isn’t about anything as boring as wind.
I watch in astonishment as a cluster of pale-blue flowers blooms on his hand. “Oh my God,” I whisper as I start to smell their subtle fragrance. “Oh my God. How did you do that?”
He shrugs. “I’m one of the lucky ones.” He holds it out to me, and I reach forward, stroke a gentle finger over one of the flower’s delicate petals. It feels like silk.
“These are called forget-me-nots. They’re Alaska’s state flower.”
“They’re beautiful.” I shake my head.
“You’re beautiful,” he answers. And then he leans forward and weaves the stem of flowers into my curls, right above my left ear.
My stomach bottoms out as his lips come within an inch of mine. Oh, God. Oh no!
Instinct has me jerking back in my chair, eyes wide and breath coming way too fast.
But Flint just laughs. “Don’t worry, New Girl. I wasn’t hitting on you.”
Oh, thank God. I nearly sag in relief. “I didn’t think— I was— I just—”
“Oh, Grace.” Flint half laughs, half shakes his head. “You’re something else. You know that?”
“Me? You’re the one who can shoot fire and ice and create flowers out of thin air.”
“Good point.” He inclines his head, watching me with those molten amber eyes of his. “But I’ll make you a promise right now, okay?”
“Okay?”
“When I hit on you, it’ll be because you want me to. And we’ll both know exactly what’s going on when I do.”
46
I’ll Get You
and Your
Little Dog, Too
I have no idea what to say to Flint’s promise, which is probably a good thing, considering my throat is suddenly desert dry and I can’t speak anyway.
Not because I want Flint to hit on me—I don’t. And not because I’m offended by his words, because I’m not. But because when I look into his laughing amber eyes, when I see his infectious smile, I can imagine that if Jaxon wasn’t around, I would totally welcome any move this dragon chose to make.
But Jaxon is around, and sitting here with Flint just got a million times more awkward.
I take a long sip of water to wet my throat…and to stall as I try to figure out what to say to defuse the situation. But before I can come up with anything, Flint’s phone buzzes with a series of texts messages.
He picks up the phone, glances at the messages. And his entire demeanor changes. “Something’s going down.”
Immediately, I think of Jaxon. “What is it? What’s happening?”
Flint doesn’t answer, just scoops up his backpack and starts shoving things inside it. As he does, the note Amka sent him falls open and I can’t help but read it:
“There are a thousand ways to get somewhere, but not all ways are the correct one.”
I don’t have time to wonder about what it means because Flint scoops it up and then barks, “Come on, let’s go.”
I grab my purse and follow him, dread pooling in my stomach as I try to figure out what could possibly make him react like this. “What’s going on?” I ask again.
“I don’t know yet. But the Order is on the move.”
“On the move? What does that mean?” I’m all but running in an effort to keep up with Flint’s long-legged strides.
“It means there’s going to be trouble.” He bites the words out like they taste bad.
Not that I blame him. God knows, I’ve had more than enough of that in the last few days to last me a lifetime. “What kind of trouble?” I’m right behind him when he pushes the library doors open and starts booking it down the hall.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
I fumble my phone out of my pocket, determined to get an answer out of Jaxon. But by the time we get to the main passing area near the stairs, I don’t have to. Because one level up is the Order, walking in grim, single-file silence.
They’re moving fast, and though their backs are toward us, I can tell Flint is right. There’s a problem—a big one. It’s in their squared-off shoulders and the tenseness that runs through each and every one of them like a live wire.