Nightworld Academy: Term One(Nightworld Academy #1)(31)

He has a natural charisma that attracts people as readily as the lamia vamp nearby who has Clive in her thrall. Neither need to try. I’d hate being the focus of attention, but some thrive on it.

The group Ash stands with wear their blue and black rugby shirts, identifying their tribe. They celebrate the match win today; some drink from bottles, others hold plastic cups filled with beer. They’ve been drinking for a while, judging by the empties standing on tables.

Ash casts a glance over his shoulder, and he graces Maeve with one of his signature smiles that always affects girls. How does he do that? Maybe I should get him to teach me. I snort to myself. As if I have any hope of reaching his league.

"Maeve! I’m glad you decided to come." Ash nods a hello at me then gestures at a guy beside him. "Rami—find a drink for Maeve. What do you like?"

"I don’t drink."

The crowd around Ash stare as if she’s a butcher at a vegetarian restaurant.

"Not even one as a welcome to the academy?" he cajoles.

"No." She's emphatic; there's no trying peer pressure on this girl. Maeve looks to Rami, the short and stocky shifter with Ash. "I'd like a water, please."

The staring continues. Rami glances at Ash as if he's the one with the final say on what Maeve drinks. She scowls.

"Or I'll find a glass myself." Maeve stands on tiptoes and looks around the room. Like Walcott common room, Gilgamesh's has a small kitchen area to the rear, and Rami heads there.

"We should catch up for a chat, Maeve." Ash takes a long drink from his bottle. "Let me finish up with these guys first and I'll be right with you."

He punctuates his words with another of those smiles, but Maeve appears unmoved this time.

"Please, don't trouble yourself on my account." She gives a tight smile and then moves closer to me. "I don't have Amelia here to fill me in on the gossip. I hope you know some."

Her sweet scent tickles my nostrils and her blonde hair touches my face as she whispers the words.

I can't help feeling smug when Ash looks at me in confused shock.

Maybe he doesn't always get the girl.

Interested eyes watch us as we cross the room, and once we have our drinks we find a group from our house who sit on and around a couple of armchairs. Maeve sips from a glass of water and quietly takes in the room and people.

I point at her glass. "Do you drink at all, or just not tonight?"

"Rarely." She chews her bottom lip. "If I drink too much, I trigger visions, and they're more confusing than usual."

Visions. Maeve looks away and asks a random girl a question before I can resurrect our conversation from earlier. I’m uncomfortable, not because I think she's hiding something—because I'm sure she is—but because I'm worried exactly what she isn’t telling me. How can I get Maeve to open up to me? I was bloody stupid to tell her I could see peoples' thoughts through touch, because she's kept her distance since.

My stomach sinks.

She doesn't want to be near me. That display a few moments ago was Maeve thumbing her nose at Ash.

I watch as she chats, and my hackles rise as some in the room stare and whisper. Since Maeve discovered who she was, she's continued her low profile. She may be unaware exactly what her power means, or how some harbour jealousy or fear, but I'm sure she senses the distrust.

Amelia once told me she wanted to wrap Maeve in her arms and hug her all better. But she knows as well as I do that Maeve isn't the hugging type. She's spent life confused and frightened by her powers, and built up defences. I’m not surprised she avoids getting close to people.

Katherine sits close by on Clive's lap, which raises eyebrows in the way she enjoys. The lamia and the shifter royalty—the guy with the wealth and her with the power. It's an unspoken certainty that when head boy and girl are announced in the final year, it will be them. Clive can be unpredictable, but Katherine will coach Clive to success.

Maeve turns back to me, leaning close to whisper again, causing the same lurching in my chest. Her soft hair against my cheek begs to be touched.

"Are Clive and Katherine an item?" She moves away and looks at me searchingly. I arch a brow at her. "Okay, they obviously are but... isn't that weird?"

"You think that's the weirdest thing about this academy?" I ask with a laugh.

Maeve studies those in the room, some chatting, others flirting, others on laps hugging or kissing. "No, but other couples seem to be the same species."

I shush her. "Race, not species, Maeve."

"Right." She points at herself. "Not all up on etiquette. Never knew you existed until last week."

"But you're right, the lamia and shifter are an odd match. They're a power couple who each has something the other wants. They'd make strong Confederacy leaders."

"Better than if they chose to be Dominion leaders, I guess."

A guy nearby catches the word and narrows his eyes at us. I guide Maeve to one side by the arm, hurt when she pulls away the minute I stop. "It's best not to mention Dominion in here—they're our equivalent of terrorists. You'll either scare people or make them suspicious."

"Is that why their attack is a big secret?" she whispers.

Where the hell is this Confederacy representative with his information and assurances we’re safe? Until I see one, I won’t feel that I am. "Maybe we shouldn't think about that. Relax. Get to meet more people."