Bloodspell (The Cruentus Curse, #1)(30)

Charla had jokingly told her that "hiding" was the fifth stage of lovesickness, and had vowed to find out Victoria's mystery crush. The threat of that alone had made Victoria hide even more to the point that she grew sick of her own company. So when Holly called to check in, Victoria had jumped at the chance to take some time and just get away from the source of all her stress.

She put Leto in his carrier and drove over to campus to return a book before she left. On her way back to her car, she noticed Angie sitting off to one side leaning on the stone balustrade of the library steps, chewing an apple and looking at her. Angie hadn't actually gotten any friendlier over the last few weeks, but at least now she deigned to converse with her—there was some sort of understanding that they were both friends of Charla's and although that didn't mean that they had to be friends, they could still be somewhat civil to each other.

"Hey," Angie said. "Have you seen Charla?" Victoria almost laughed. Everything had to be related back to Charla, like they couldn't have a normal conversation without it tying back to her in some ridiculous inane way.

"No, I haven't. Not since Wednesday." Victoria was trying to figure out how to leave without being rude, and then noticed the book that Angie had face down on the step next to her. "I didn't realize that you were interested in Wicca," she said before she could help herself.

Angie's smile was strained, more like a grimace. "I'm not," she said. She chewed a nail while still looking up at Victoria, conflicting emotions playing across her dour face. "Are you?" Victoria's eyes snapped to hers, shaken by her meaningful tone. Angie's face was calm but she looked almost smug. "I can always tell, you know. It's my gift."

"Tell what?" Victoria tried to keep her face expressionless, but her heart felt like it was lodged in her throat. Surely Angie couldn't possibly know what she was.

Angie rolled her dark eyes. "That you're a witch." She drawled the last word, rolling it insolently on her tongue. Victoria stared at her expressionlessly, waiting for her to continue. Angie didn't disappoint. "I'm not one, if that's what you're wondering. I can just see it in others."

"But how can you—"

"Colors." Angie cut her off, anticipating the question, and not even acknowledging that Victoria hadn't denied the statement. In Angie's world, what she saw was absolute. "I see colors in the air around you, an aura I guess. Everyone has one, something like a unique signature. Like I said, it's my gift, although not something I'd ever ask for."

"Why are you telling me this, Angie?"

Victoria was curious. It wasn't as if they had spoken more than two words to each other on any given day, and now they were having a bizarre supernatural conversation that had come out of nowhere. The amulet began to heat up, smoldering under the light sweater she was wearing. She shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, I thought you should know," said Angie, "that I know, I mean. After all, I'm sure it's not something you want other people to know about."

"Wait a second! I never said—"

Angie interrupted Victoria before she could finish.

"Like I said, you don't have to. I know what I see." Angie's voice was authoritative and calm. Victoria sat heavily on the step and Angie continued to chew her nails, her eyes dark and fathomless. "Don't worry, I haven't told Charla."

After a while, Victoria asked quietly, "How do you know what the colors mean?" It was the first time that she had ever seen some kind of life come over Angie. Her eyes lit up and her face became animated. She looked like a different person, and Victoria was stunned at the transformation. Angie's tone remained guarded, but her whole manner was different.

"I don't know exactly, but, well, normal people look the same. Their colors are a little different but basically have the same patterns." She smiled a little proudly. "I can even tell what kind of people they are by the color differences. Yours on the other hand has a lot of shimmery reds and purples in it, with wavy black lines. The pattern is very distinct, luminous. I taught myself how to figure out what the colors mean. I'm almost never wrong."

"Does Gabe—"

"Gabriel's ... not like me," Angie said quickly. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "Don't worry." Victoria relaxed a little but she was still dazed by the conversation they were having. She felt vulnerable and uncomfortable that Angie of all people knew what she was, or at least claimed to know what she was.

"So do you see in neon all the time?" she asked, desperate to sound nonchalant. Angie actually laughed, a full-throated chuckle that made her normally severe face seem even pretty.

"No, only when I want to, like I'm doing with you now," she replied. "I have to focus."

Just that moment, out of the corner of her eye, Victoria was distracted by a tall lanky figure walking across the quad, and her heart raced uncontrollably. It was ridiculous the effect he had on her still! She tried to squish herself back into the cold stone of the staircase as if she wanted to make herself as invisible as possible, and noticed Angie's quizzical expression.

"What's with you? Your colors just went all fiery red and blotchy!" Angie unfocused her eyes and peered at Victoria's face. "Your face is super red, too." Then she looked around and noticed the cause of Victoria's reaction. "Oh," she said. Victoria stared at Angie helplessly and saw comprehension dawn, along with an imperceptible hardening of her eyes.