Nightworld Academy: Term One(Nightworld Academy #1)(29)

I snatch my hand away. "What do you mean ‘see’?"

He sits back on the bench and stares ahead. "You know my affinity is spirit too. I don't have the same power you do, but I can read people. Objects too, although objects are easier. I wish your attackers had left something behind for me to touch and try to find traces of energy. I can see thoughts and feelings from people who’ve touched the object. It’s history, I guess."

"You can see my thoughts?"

"Glimpses. I'm learning how to read minds better, and I need to work on the skill because it'll be helpful in the future. I'll be able to detect people's motivations."

"Yes, you could be a hands-on lawyer," I say with a smile.

"Vampires are best at that," he replies, not missing a beat. "Although being unable to work in the daytime is an issue."

"Right." Again, my hundred questions I have about how the supernatural exist and manage to stay hidden in the world jump into my mind, but Jamie doesn't seem in the mood for a Q&A session. "That coffee sounds like a good idea."

I get to my feet, hoping the subject change isn't obvious.

"Have you seen me in a vision, Maeve?" His forthright question flusters me, and I don't answer. "You have, haven't you?"

Mutely, I nod.

"What did you see?"

His expression is filled with curiosity, not worry. What can I say? No way can I tell the truth, but I could twist it. "Not as much as I'd like to. As with my friend, I don't have a clear picture of all the events."

"But you know some of them?"

"Yes. Are we going to get this coffee?"

Jamie tucks his hands beneath his arms. "Good or bad?"

My mouth dries and I fight showing any hint of the truth on my face. "Good coffee, I hope."

As he stands, Jamie looks down at me and I'm aware there's more underlying our friendship. When he touched my hand, it felt good to have attention from him. If it weren't for this stupid vision, I'd happily gaze into his eyes and spend time holding his hand.

Now he's told me he can read my thoughts, I don't want Jamie to touch me again.





ASH



Dad texted me while I was on the pitch and as I walk back to the academy building, I text back a lie: that I have a match this weekend and can't come home to help out in the pub this weekend. Why can't my family live at the opposite end of the UK rather than a half-hour drive away? Spending weekends in the family-run pub takes time away from training and socialising. Plus, I've a party planned this weekend.

I haven't held one for a while, and people ask why. I'm the one whose parties everybody wants invites to, and I have to keep up my position.

I hate that I feel obligated to go home in term time. My brother isn't here to take on his role in the family business the way we planned, so it's down to me to hold it together.

But I don't want to. I've a talent that gives me a high position in the academy, and a desire to fight in the Confederacy's military branch. I have to find who killed my brother and take revenge. Sure, easy-going, popular Ash appears to have the world at his feet, but some secrets are best kept.

Like the fact our family is poor and can only afford my tuition fees from the compensation for Vincent's death.

And because when I turn nineteen, there's a high chance I'll become a dragon shifter and be forced into a position of power I don't want.

I tuck the phone away and shake away the brooding thoughts as I head across the cloisters towards Gilgamesh's building. Maeve and Jamie walk towards me, and her face lights up in the way I wish it wouldn't.

Maeve warmed to me from day one and if I were conceited, I'd say she can't fight her attraction to me. I see this in her eyes the way I do many other girls.

But she's future-sighted, and a future-sighted witch sent Vincent to his death. They're relied on too much, their skills shaky at best. The academy insists she gives us a unique advantage against the Dominion's increasing powers, but all I see is trouble. Hell, the girl only discovered she was a witch the other day. If she spent her life as a human, this makes her a greater risk—she has little control over her powers.

Maeve can make mistakes.

"Hey," she says, and a bright smile joins her shining eyes.

Much of the time, Maeve walks around with a crease of worry on her brow and a downturned mouth that hurts my heart. I need to drop my prejudice, but it's hard. When she's happy, I can't help but warm to her. She's funny and sarcastic. Brave.

Beautiful.

Jamie nods at me and I see two things in his expression: a warning not to upset Maeve and a request to keep my hands off. They're similar in how their minds work, and he's a good-looking kid too. Jamie has more prospects than I do. I need to rely on my sporting skills to keep my place here; he'll pass exams effortlessly.

"We're headed for a coffee; do you want to come?" Maeve asks, unable to hide her eagerness.

I scrunch my face up and gesture at myself. "No can do." Luckily, I bumped into her muddy and sweaty from the match, though some girls find that attractive, who knows why?

"Oh. Okay. Another time? We haven't chatted for a few days."

"Been busy."

"Not even at dinner," she adds pointedly. "You're always late."