Miss Mayhem (Rebel Belle #2)(29)

He looked back at the book he had spread open on the grass, and I tossed the baton up, catching it easily. “What are you reading?” I asked, and he raised his head, sunlight flashing off his glasses.

“Still looking through some of Saylor’s books for stuff about the Peirasmos.”

“Anything?” I asked, but he shook his head.

“Not yet. But Saylor had a lot of books.”

I kept twirling, but watched him out of the corner of my eye. “And you? You feeling okay?”

“Sure,” he said, the word clipped off and sharp in his mouth. He didn’t look up at me, and something in my stomach twisted.

“David,” I said, and he sighed, tapping his pen furiously against the page.

“It’s just irritating, that’s all. Being completely useless, power-wise. If I could just see something . . .” He broke off with a frustrated noise. “My visions might have been stupid before, but at least I could have them.” Shaking his head, he leaned back against the fence. “No idea why everyone is working so hard to protect me when I’m not exactly worth much.”

It was the second time he’d said something like that, and I still didn’t like it. Part of that, I knew, was the guilt. But warding him had been for his own good, I thought again. To keep him safe and keep him . . . well, him.

But I’d tried to ignore how that was making David feel, especially when he was all alone in Saylor’s house, with nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company. David was a smart guy, and ever since I’d known him, he’d had a bad tendency to overthink things. I knew he’d been sitting there at night, brooding over all of this.

Now, he tipped his head back and studied the sky, bright blue through the oak leaves overhead. “I’m trying to help by going through all these books, but nothing there is all that helpful, and I . . .” Trailing off, he pushed his hands under his glasses, scrubbing his face. “If something happens to you during all of this, Harper—”

I set the baton down and walked over to stand in front of him, catching his chin in my fingers and tilting his head up to look at me. “Nothing is going to,” I told him. “We got through Cotillion, and we’ll get through this, too.”

David’s eyes were nearly as blue as the sky above, and as they searched my face, I could tell he didn’t believe me. But he dropped the subject, picking up the baton I’d laid down on the grass.

“I’m still having trouble wrapping my mind around you twirling this thing in a pageant,” David said, idly toying with it as he stood up.

I took it from him with a skeptical frown. “It’s a traditional choice,” I admitted. “And my Paladin skills mean that I’m weirdly good with it.”

David laughed at that. “Seriously? Thousands of years of knowledge and training have resulted in the ability to spin a baton?”

“Yup,” I replied. “Check this out.” With that, I tossed the baton from hand to hand, spinning it furiously as I did. The metal rod slid easily through my fingers, and I realized that in the right circumstances, this thing could actually be a pretty impressive weapon.

But I hoped that the right circumstances never occurred. Braining someone with a baton was not on my agenda any time soon.

Tossing the baton high in the air, I added a backflip before coming down solidly on both feet and catching the baton with one hand. I used the other hand to give a little wave, and David looked at me with a grin.

“Okay, now you’re showing off.”

“Little bit,” I admitted, glad that we were talking like normal people again. I tossed him the baton.

“Maybe you should start carrying one of these things,” he mused as he inspected it.

He looked at the rubber end over the top of his glasses, squinting slightly, and I leaned over and smacked a kiss on his cheek. That was one of my favorite David faces.

“I’ll stick with my dagger,” I told him as he let the baton drop back on the grass.

He laughed. “I think the baton would be a little less conspicuous.”

I shook my head. “No way. And then I’d have to join the marching band as a majorette to make up an excuse for carrying it around all the time.” With a dramatic sigh, I tipped my head back to look at the sky. “And I’ve already had to join the paper and now I’m going to sign up for a pageant . . .”

David closed his notebook. “Admit that you kind of like the paper.”

Wrinkling my nose, I shuddered. “No. It is a necessary evil.”

But I couldn’t stop smiling a little bit, and David pointed at me. “Aha! You do like it! In fact, you love the paper.”

“Do not!” I insisted, but he was fully dedicated to teasing me now.

“You love the paper so much you’re thinking of studying journalism at college instead of poli-sci.”

“Ignoring you,” I said in a singsong as I scooped my baton off the grass and started twirling it again.

David sat back down on the grass, wrapping his arms around his knees as he watched me. “It’s too late. I know your secret heart.”

Feeling better, I kept spinning the baton, tossing it and catching it, watching the sunlight glint off the silver. I was still practicing when the back gate opened and Bee walked inside, also dressed in a T-shirt and shorts.