Page 46 of Fallacies

Something serious falls over her expression, and I panic. Afraid that I’ve given too much away.

As she stares, I lean into the facade of innocent curiosity, tilting my head and embodying the face of pure intrigue. It isn’t hard. I am curious.

“I don’t know.” Finally, Selene quirks a brow, flashing a conspirator’s smile. “Let’s see.”

My shoulders sink in relief as she reaches for her water, chugging what’s left before slamming the glass back down to the table.

Brows furrowed, I watch with morbid fascination as she lets three drops of her blood spill over the glass lip. Deciding it’s enough, she casually passes it through her ward to my side of the table.

Then she slips the knife through after it. “Your turn.”

Of course.

“Lucina,” Gemma warns from the other end of the table.

Ignoring her, I take the knife, hissing through my teeth as it breaks the skin on my palm. I do exactly as she did, letting three drops of my blood fall into the cup with hers.

Selene watches intently as I push it towards the ward, careful not to graze my own fingers on the magic.

The glass makes it all the way through.

With my blood.

“Holy shit,” Selene curses, surveying the cup. “I think your blood canceled out mine.”

I can hardly contain my excitement. “So the threshold is…” My hands fist on the table, blood still leaking out from the shallow wound in my palm. “...fifty percent?”

Selene assesses the ward as if she’s looking for other ways to explain it. Then she nods, confirming on an exhale, “Yeah. Fifty percent, I guess.”

With the wave of her hand, the ward dissipates. My heart is beating so fast I hardly realize how intently she’s looking back at me until she speaks, the seriousness in her tone pulling me back to the table. “Why did you want to know?”

I blink back at her. “Oh…um.” My hands shake as I reach for my mug. “I was just⁠—”

“Chaos,” a deep voice rumbles behind me, and my eyes go wide as Callan leans down, his chin hovering just above my head. His hands press against the table on either side of me.

I peer up at him as innocently as I’m able.

“Why are you bleeding?”

Selene snorts, and I scowl back at her.

“We weren’t…” His gaze narrows as I search for an explanation. “We were just⁠—”

“Being freaks,” Gemma supplies, sliding back down the bench and grabbing my hand to heal the cut. “Ruining my breakfast,” she mumbles under her breath.

I roll my eyes back at Selene. “She handed me the knife.”

“You took it, freak,” she pokes back.

Gemma snatches her hand next.

“Yeah? Well, if I’m a freak, then you’re…” I look her up and down, searching for a fitting word. “Morose.”

Selene smiles. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Enough, both of you,” Gemma snaps, and Callan laughs under his breath. “You’re both fucking weird.”

Selene’s grin only widens.