Page 21 of Echoes of the Banshee

“I’ve been in Combat with you for two years.”

I stop in my tracks. Then she cracks and laughs — not a polite laugh, but a real, rich, unguarded laugh that lights up her whole face. I find myself absurdly pleased that I’m the reason she’s laughing like that, even if it’s at my expense. Her green eyes sparkle like sunlight caught in shards of glass. Illusions don’t look like that. Those eyes are hers.

“First class today.”

“Thank god,” I exhale. “I didn’t want to get reamed and have to question my sanity in the same morning.”

“Well, it’s still early,” she teases.

We walk in silence. At first, I’m racking my brain for something clever to say, but nothing comes. Before I know it, the fifteen-minute walk to the dorms is over, and I’m still empty-handed. Maybe that’s fine. She doesn’t seem bothered. And weirdly, neither am I.

“Do you want to have breakfast?” I ask. I hate how hopeful I sound.

“I’m going to shower first. I know I smell this time,” she says.

Yeah. Like burnt jasmine and soul death. Somehow not a bad combination.

“Want some company?” I ask, casual on the outside but testing her a little. Wanting to see how immune she is.

“Sure,” she says without even stopping to look at me. “You can shave my back.” And the door shuts in my face.

I blink. Then laugh. Can’t help the grin spreading across my face as I walk to my dorm. This girl. Seriously. Was that a yes?

When I get to the dining hall, she’s already eating. She’s sitting alone, so I join her without a word. We eat in a silence that somehow feels normal. Maybe I don’t need to fill the silence with her. It’s strangely freeing. She’s got a full diner style breakfast and eats it until the plate’s wiped clean.

“What classes do you have today?” she asks.

“I’m a psych major,” I say. “So, a few lectures on ethics, and then I’ve got…” I glance around to make sure no nightblind ears are listening. “Energy Manipulation and Magical Crafting.”

She cocks an eyebrow. “Crafting? That’s a weird choice. Part of your major?”

“Nope. I’m a healer, but I’m not sure I want to be stuck in that path. So, I jump around.” I give her a crooked smile. “And on that note, you should get that looked at.” I tell her, gesturing to the bruise forming on her arm.

She shrugs. I’m tempted to reach out and fix it, but I stop myself. She’s had multiple times she could’ve touched me and didn’t try anything. No pressure on my mind, no spells, no games. She doesn’t test the line or try to slip past it. Last night when she grabbed me, she even avoided my skin, pulling me by the sleeve. It felt like respect. And I don’t get that much.

“And you?”

“I’m Pre-Law, so Constitutional Law and Critical Thinking,” she says. “Magical Contracts, Advanced Curse Theory and Mystic Magic.”

Misfit Magic? Advanced Curse Theory? Bloody hell. I want to ask what kind, but play it safe.

“I can see you as a lawyer, you’re good at arguing,” I tell her. “What kind? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a witch lawyer.”

She shrugs. “That’s the problem. A human lawyer can’t help pass on magical inheritance and a witch could alter a human will.”

I pause. The statement lands heavier than I expect. Weighted, personal. “Is there a reason…?”

But she’s looking past me, eyes distant.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” I add. “I’m not trying to pry. Just… talking.”

She stands, picks up her tray. “You’re right.” Her tone is clipped. She walks off before I can figure out what landed wrong.

I stare after her, stunned. One minute, I think I’m making progress, cracking the code. The next, I’m right back at square one.

Thea

Little Miss Natural Disaster