Page 54 of Shifting Tides
Surprise broke the frustrated frown and smoothed her pretty features.
“Okay,” Arya said with a smile and a shrug, pushing that piece of hair behind her ear. “I’d love to come.”
Then she turned and walked away.
And as I failed not to stare at her like a hungry wolf as she did, I internally cursed myself. I had just asked Arya Walker out on a date. What did I get myself into?
Chapter 15
Shea
I fiddled with the pencil in my hand as I stared blankly at the crazy mashup of childhood fantasy and teenage angst that was my room. I put the pencil down and began tapping my dark purple nails on the blank notebook atop my Rainbow Bright bedcover. The textbook sat open but still unread, despite the multiple times I'd scanned the same paragraph.
I couldn't get Arya, the school, or my untapped powers off my mind. My own school had been distractingly dull since I’d lost my only friend to the coolest school I could imagine. And I'd been rejected by said school—twice.
But wallowing wasn't going to fix anything—I’d been doing plenty of that, and it was a miserable pity party. No, I needed a plan.
Gram's head popped into my doorway. “Time to wrap up. Dinner's going to be ready in ten.”
I nodded, my eyes still glazed over from overthinking.
“Is everything okay?” Gram asked, her brow creased. She came all the way in and sat on the edge of the bed.
I sat up, rubbing my face. “I guess. It's just...”
I stared at her for a moment, trying to decide if I wanted to risk getting in trouble again. Life in this house was just getting back to normal after our last fight. But I had no one else to talk to about this stuff, and if I had to keep it all bottled up any longer, I’d implode.
“Do shifters hate us?” The words rushed out of my mouth before I could stop them.
Gram's mouth hardened into a thin line. Great. I winced as I braced for another lecture.
Instead, Gram sighed. “Oh, Shea, where would you get an idea like that?”
I turned away, guilt seeping through me. I hated lying to her, but I hated being excluded even more. I wanted to take my place in the supernatural world and find the magic that had been stolen from our family. To be so close but not part of it nearly killed me.
“I don't know. You keep me away from it all the time. I thought, you know, maybe shifters hated us or something.” That was as close to the truth as I was willing to stray.
Gram's arms wrapped around me, and I snuggled in, letting out a contented sigh. As a little girl, I’d wondered if maternal hugs were laced with magic.
“No, not hate, really. Distrust, certainly, but not hate.”
I had definitely caught hate vibes from Celeste. I wondered what that woman had against witches.
I pulled away from Gram's embrace to look her in the eyes. “Why, though? Why would anyone hate or dislike us?”
Gram looked at the ceiling. “Do you remember the origin stories I used to tell you?”
I nodded. They were stories of war and hatred. About how the vampires were created to dominate the other races and thenshifters to combat the vampires. I never understood why humans turned on the shifters afterward, but something had driven them into hiding. Of course, the Hunters might have something to do with that.
“What I've never told you was that witches were the ones that helped turn armies into the shifters and vampires we have today.”
My brows spiked into my hairline. That was some seriously powerful magic.
Gram nodded. “Many of our kind leaned on transformation magic in order to blend in with the shifters, but it's not quite the same.” She ran a hand through her long silver hair, suddenly looking weary beyond her sixty-some years. “But all magic comes with a price. And without the grimoire...”
I leaned forward, stilling my breath. Would today be the day she finally opened up?
The faint sound of the oven timer chimed, piercing the moment more effectively than a scream.
