“I was. But I got…”
“Sidetracked?” my uncle finishes for me with a raised brow.
At this point, I’m pretty sure the blush has taken over my entire body. Including my eyelashes and hair. “Yeah.”
“If you’re well enough to be up here, you’re probably well enough to be in class, don’t you think?”
“Yeah. I probably am.”
“Good.” He glances at his watch. “First period should be about half done right now—we are squeezing it in before lunch due to the chandelier incident…and other things.” He glares at Jaxon. “You should head there now.”
I think about arguing, but he’s got the same look on his face my dad used to have when I pushed him to the limit. I want to stay with Jaxon, want to know what’s going to happen to him, but I’m afraid if I put up a fuss now, it will just make my uncle angrier. And that’s the last thing I want if he’s about to decide Jaxon’s fate.
So instead of demanding to stay as I want to do, I just nod and head into the bedroom to grab my purse from where Jaxon dropped it. “Yes, Uncle Finn.”
For a second, I could swear that surprise flashes in my uncle’s eyes, but it’s gone so fast that I’m not sure I didn’t imagine it. Then again, Macy doesn’t exactly strike me as the biddable type, so maybe he didn’t expect me to agree so easily. Or he was surprised my purse was in Jaxon’s bedroom, which…I am going to choose not to think about.
Either way, it’s too late to argue now, so I turn to Jaxon. “I’ll see you later?” I deliberately avoid making eye contact with my uncle as I wait for his response.
“Yeah.” His tone says obviously, even if he keeps his words simple in deference to my uncle. “I’ll text you.”
It’s not quite the response I was hoping for, but again, I’m not in a position to argue. So I just give him a little smile as I head for the door.
And try not to panic when the last thing I hear before Uncle Finn slams it closed is, “Give me one reason not to ship your ass to Prague, Vega. And make sure it’s a good one.”
51
Trial by
Dragon Fire
I pull out my phone on the way down the stairs to Brit Lit and find about twenty text messages waiting for me. Five from Heather, complaining about how boring school is without me, along with several photos of her in her costume for the fall play.
I fire off a text telling her how great she looks dressed as the Cheshire Cat and another one sympathizing with the boredom. I want to tell her about Jaxon—not the vampire stuff, just the cute boy stuff—but that’s a subject I know I shouldn’t open until I decide exactly what I can or can’t tell my bestie about him. Because when Heather is on the trail for new information, she’s utterly relentless.
Plus, I’ve never lied to her, and I don’t really want to start now. I mean, logic says that if I’m going to be with Jaxon, I’m going to have to lie sometimes—I can’t walk around announcing to the world that he’s a vampire without us having to dodge a lot of wooden stakes and garlic. But I need to think about what I’m going to say. I’m a terrible liar at the best of times. When talking to Heather? I’ll crack in ten seconds flat, and that can’t happen.
Which is why I don’t say anything more than I absolutely have to, even though a part of me is dying for her opinion about…oh, I don’t know, everything hot-guy related.
Most of the other texts are from Macy—there are seven of them talking about what happened in the study room. She wasn’t there, but the news of what Jaxon did to the wolf alpha has obviously spread. Not that I expected any different; he did it publicly for a reason. Plus Uncle Finn showing up at the tower shows just how far and fast the news traveled.
And Uncle Finn sent several texts to me as well, all of them demanding to know where I was. I don’t bother to answer, considering he already found me—much to my chagrin.
The last two texts are from Flint, and I’m so shocked—and annoyed—I nearly miss a step and fall on my face. But then I remember the asshole dragon doesn’t know what I know. He doesn’t have a clue that I know he’s been trying to kill me instead of help me.
It still pisses me off, though—the whole thing does—so I don’t bother answering him. I swear to myself that I’ll never answer him again, no matter what explanation he comes up with and no matter how many excuses he tries
Part of me wants to find him right now and have it out. But I’ve finally made it to Brit Lit, only to realize that I've totally forgotten to change into my school uniform. So I shove my phone back into the front pocket of my hoodie and head up to my room to do a super-quick change. Ten minutes later, I walk into class only to have the whole room go eerily silent the moment everyone spots me. You’d think I’d be used to that after the last week, but today, with everything that’s happened, it feels a million times more awkward than usual.