Nightworld Academy: Term One(Nightworld Academy #1)(49)

I drag a hand through my hair. How much do I want to know about my future?

"I also need a complete picture before I can see what happens to you. Every piece of information I can find then we know when and where we need to be to stop it."

"Is that usual?"

"Nothing is 'usual', Jamie. I'm grasping at straws. The visions I have that include you are just flashes. That's why I didn't want to say anything until I had a clearer idea. They might not even be real."

Do I wish she hadn't agreed to tell me? At least now I can stop obsessing about her lying to me. I move to mirror Maeve's position, knees beneath my chin, staring at the fire, before tentatively taking her hand.

"I'll help. Sofia's right. We can work together." She smiles at me as I give her fingers a small squeeze.

"Sorry for not telling you the whole truth before."

"That's okay. I imagine life is very confusing for you right now."

"Ha. Always."

Her small hand remains in mine and I look around the room. "What do we use? I doubt tea leaves or bowls of ordinary water will work."

She gestures at the fire. "I always found fire mesmerising. I spent hours transfixed as a child."

"Good idea."

Her hand tightens around mine as she breathes deeply, eyes closed, before exhaling. "I've never tried this without Sofia."

"I'm here."

Her fingers curl around mine. "I know."

Maeve's focus switches to the fire and the seconds tick by until her face takes on the frozen expression I saw when she used the scrying bowl. Maeve's pupils dilate and her breathing speeds before dropping to shallow breaths.

After years spent studying divination, I’ve never come across anybody who can drop into a trance this quickly. What if Maeve can't pull back out again? Would I be able to help her? The grip on my hand grows tighter and her nails dig into me. I wince but don't pull away as they push deeper, stinging my skin.

Does Maeve sense what’s coursing through me at this moment? My attraction to Maeve guaranteed I’d react once I touched her skin, but as we hold hands, something more passes. I lose sight of the softness and awareness how delicate she is. My hand feels part of hers, but not in the romantic way I’d like. Touching Maeve is as if her spirit-attuned soul connects to mine.

A warmth moves from my heart and trickles through my veins until it reaches my fingertips. A soft buzz tickles my skin and my mind closes down. I’m unable to fully ‘be’ Jamie anymore. Here and now, I’m part of Maeve. We’re part of each other.

My mind blanks. Why can't I see what she does?

Minutes later—how many, I don't know—Maeve grabs my other hand and her shining eyes meet mine. My shoulders sag with relief that they’re filled with happiness and not tears.

"I saw him," she whispers. "Clearly this time. He has dark hair like yours in a similar style, but his face is longer. And..." She gives a triumphant smile then runs a finger from the corner of her eye to the hairline just above her ear. "He has a scar. Here."

"Who is he?"

"I'm not sure. He's standing close to Tessa but doesn't speak to her. Tessa's drunk and gives flirty smiles and coy looks." Maeve's euphoria drops. "He could be the reason I saw Tessa. I might need to stop him hurting her."

"If you can. There's no guarantee what will happen."

Maeve drags her fingers away. "I will."

"Maeve." I touch her soft cheek in an attempt to soothe her building frustration. "How many other visions did you have where you changed the future?"

"That's irrelevant," she snaps. "I can change things, if I'm there. I'll stop Tessa getting hurt. I'll stop you dying."

She slams a palm over her mouth and her eyes widen. "Omigod, I'm sorry."

Maeve's words hit me harder than the day someone punched me in the head, and the world blackens in the same way. I struggle to my feet. After weeks asking her, I suddenly don't want to know. I don't want to hear. My mind blanks with shock, and I grab my coat from where it's slung over a chair.

Everything I held inside my heart for Maeve is squeezed from me.

"Jamie. I'm sorry."

"For what? Lying to me?" I shove my arms into the coat.

Maeve looks up from her place by the fire and my heart would hurt at the anguish in her eyes, but I'm numb. "Now you know why I couldn't say. Why I wanted to wait until I saw everything."

"When will this happen?" I swallow. "Where?"

She shakes her head and whispers, "I don't know, but it's definitely not at the academy. I think you're outside a modern building at night. I haven't seen clearly. Yet."

The acid in my stomach rises into my throat. Everybody on the academy faculty is convinced she's future-sighted. I've seen the evidence myself. There's no doubt in my mind what she's seen predicts my future.

But I do doubt that she could stop my fate.

I plunge out of the cottage into the rain and into a new world. One where death stalks me.





Chapter Twenty-Seven





MAEVE



I'm sick to the stomach. All yesterday evening, I thought of nothing else but the look on Jamie's face when I admitted to him what I'd seen. He annoyed me when he suggested I couldn't help Tessa and the words spilled by accident. I'm facing the exact situation I wanted to avoid—I've half a story and have scared Jamie without knowing anything concrete.