The Power
Page 32
I cleared my throat. “We’re done for the day?”
“We are.”
We were quiet as we walked back toward the main part of campus, and as we neared the outer walkway, I noticed a lone figure dressed in all black. A Sentinel.
Alexander.
Every day for the last four days, Alexander had waited for Laadan to be finished with me. I peeked over at her. And every day, since training with her began, the minute she saw the silent Sentinel, everything she felt for this man shone on her face.
I didn’t ask about her and Alexander, but that was love. There was no mistaking it.
Laadan’s smile was broader. “See you tomorrow, Josie.”
Smiling tiredly, I waved at her as we parted ways at the sidewalk, her hurrying to meet Alexander, and me shuffling off in the other direction.
Not hungry, and unwilling to go sit in my room and stare at the wall, I cut across the quad, heading for the gardens. I’d been spending a lot of time in there. It was pretty, and usually quiet . . . and oddly warmer than the rest of the campus.
Shoving my hands into the pocket of my hoodie, I hunkered down as the wind whipped through the campus. Only in the afternoon did it feel like the middle of May to me.
I neared the area where the half-blood had been hanged and there was a sit-in of about two dozen halfs. No one spoke, and as I lingered in the back for a couple of moments, more and more Guards appeared, keeping a watchful eye.
As far as I knew, no suspects had been found, and the half-blood’s murder went unpunished. I didn’t know if they’d ever find out who did it. I started to sit down, but the girl next to me stiffened and then rose. She walked to the other side and then sat down.
What the . . . ?
I froze, caught between standing and sitting. Several halfs in the back of the group were checking me out. My gaze flickered over the group, and I had the distinct feeling that I wasn’t welcome. I could’ve been overreacting, but I straightened and started walking again. Word of what I was had definitely traveled to every nook and cranny. I’d kind of thought, stupidly so, that being a demigod would make me cool. Like, everyone would want to get to know me, because I would want to get to know a demigod.
Nope.
No one approached me.
Reaching the wrought-iron fence of the garden, I unhooked the gate and stepped inside, closing it behind me. Immediately, the humidity smacked into me. I unzipped my hoodie and shrugged it off, draping it over my arm as I walked deeper in the garden.
The place was stunning and downright magical.
Purple wolfsbane was vibrant and plenty, climbing the inside walls. Leafy vines wrapped themselves around smaller statues of the gods. I still had a hard time figuring out who was who. Unless it was Artemis. I knew who she was, because of the bow gripped in her stone hand.
Bright orange poppies were everywhere, crowding the engraved walkways, and so many flowers I’d never seen before, in every color the human eye could decipher. There were trees, small almond ones and larger breeds, giving the interior privacy and creating its own little world inside the iron fence.
I passed a caretaker who was grooming multi-colored roses, the kind I’d never seen outside of this garden. Some were red and yellow. Other petals were ombré, red fading into pink. Crazy. I wanted to pluck several of the blossoms and take them back to the room, but the ancient-looking caretaker looked like she’d cut me if that happened.
Finding the bench near the back, I plopped down and stretched out my legs, placing the hoodie in my lap and just . . . just sat there. Not the most exciting of all things. I didn’t have to come to the garden. I could’ve met up with Deacon and Luke, but ever since everything had gone down, I’d been their shadow. While I knew they didn’t mind, I also knew I didn’t need to be their third wheel every single evening.
Deacon had been a godsend though.
If it weren’t for him, I’d probably still be curled in a fetal position on my bed, smelling like week-old butt. God, he’d been amazing. He’d let me sit there and shove ranch-drenched fries in my face, then listened when I told him what had happened. Deacon commiserated with me and then he got angry with me, for me.
He’d offered to sneak into Seth’s room at night and shave off his eyebrows, and while there was a part of me that would’ve loved that, I advised him against that idea.
But Deacon didn’t have any answers nor did he understand Seth’s sudden one-eighty, but in a way, he hadn’t seemed all that surprised.
“You’re going to have to fight for that guy,” he’d said.
I’d shaken my head, taken aback by the idea and thoroughly confused. “I don’t think there’s anything to fight for.”
And how could there be? It had been so easy for Seth just to cut off everything with me, without so much as a reason or warning. How could you really care about someone when you could walk away from them that easily?
I’d asked Deacon that, and again, he really didn’t have an answer.
Neither did I.
I loved Seth. I was in love with him. And I hurt so bad that every night, my pillow turned into a tissue, but I wasn’t going to beg Seth. I was feeling pretty pathetic, but that was a hard pass. I had my limit.
Or at least that was what I kept telling myself every time I passed his room or when I thought I saw him on campus. Like yesterday, when I was leaving the garden, I thought I saw him when I stepped out, but when I looked again, no one was there. I had seen him on Tuesday, talking to Luke as they were walking toward the main Council building. I wanted to give chase, to corner him, and demand to know exactly what had happened—what I’d done to initiate this change in him.
“We are.”
We were quiet as we walked back toward the main part of campus, and as we neared the outer walkway, I noticed a lone figure dressed in all black. A Sentinel.
Alexander.
Every day for the last four days, Alexander had waited for Laadan to be finished with me. I peeked over at her. And every day, since training with her began, the minute she saw the silent Sentinel, everything she felt for this man shone on her face.
I didn’t ask about her and Alexander, but that was love. There was no mistaking it.
Laadan’s smile was broader. “See you tomorrow, Josie.”
Smiling tiredly, I waved at her as we parted ways at the sidewalk, her hurrying to meet Alexander, and me shuffling off in the other direction.
Not hungry, and unwilling to go sit in my room and stare at the wall, I cut across the quad, heading for the gardens. I’d been spending a lot of time in there. It was pretty, and usually quiet . . . and oddly warmer than the rest of the campus.
Shoving my hands into the pocket of my hoodie, I hunkered down as the wind whipped through the campus. Only in the afternoon did it feel like the middle of May to me.
I neared the area where the half-blood had been hanged and there was a sit-in of about two dozen halfs. No one spoke, and as I lingered in the back for a couple of moments, more and more Guards appeared, keeping a watchful eye.
As far as I knew, no suspects had been found, and the half-blood’s murder went unpunished. I didn’t know if they’d ever find out who did it. I started to sit down, but the girl next to me stiffened and then rose. She walked to the other side and then sat down.
What the . . . ?
I froze, caught between standing and sitting. Several halfs in the back of the group were checking me out. My gaze flickered over the group, and I had the distinct feeling that I wasn’t welcome. I could’ve been overreacting, but I straightened and started walking again. Word of what I was had definitely traveled to every nook and cranny. I’d kind of thought, stupidly so, that being a demigod would make me cool. Like, everyone would want to get to know me, because I would want to get to know a demigod.
Nope.
No one approached me.
Reaching the wrought-iron fence of the garden, I unhooked the gate and stepped inside, closing it behind me. Immediately, the humidity smacked into me. I unzipped my hoodie and shrugged it off, draping it over my arm as I walked deeper in the garden.
The place was stunning and downright magical.
Purple wolfsbane was vibrant and plenty, climbing the inside walls. Leafy vines wrapped themselves around smaller statues of the gods. I still had a hard time figuring out who was who. Unless it was Artemis. I knew who she was, because of the bow gripped in her stone hand.
Bright orange poppies were everywhere, crowding the engraved walkways, and so many flowers I’d never seen before, in every color the human eye could decipher. There were trees, small almond ones and larger breeds, giving the interior privacy and creating its own little world inside the iron fence.
I passed a caretaker who was grooming multi-colored roses, the kind I’d never seen outside of this garden. Some were red and yellow. Other petals were ombré, red fading into pink. Crazy. I wanted to pluck several of the blossoms and take them back to the room, but the ancient-looking caretaker looked like she’d cut me if that happened.
Finding the bench near the back, I plopped down and stretched out my legs, placing the hoodie in my lap and just . . . just sat there. Not the most exciting of all things. I didn’t have to come to the garden. I could’ve met up with Deacon and Luke, but ever since everything had gone down, I’d been their shadow. While I knew they didn’t mind, I also knew I didn’t need to be their third wheel every single evening.
Deacon had been a godsend though.
If it weren’t for him, I’d probably still be curled in a fetal position on my bed, smelling like week-old butt. God, he’d been amazing. He’d let me sit there and shove ranch-drenched fries in my face, then listened when I told him what had happened. Deacon commiserated with me and then he got angry with me, for me.
He’d offered to sneak into Seth’s room at night and shave off his eyebrows, and while there was a part of me that would’ve loved that, I advised him against that idea.
But Deacon didn’t have any answers nor did he understand Seth’s sudden one-eighty, but in a way, he hadn’t seemed all that surprised.
“You’re going to have to fight for that guy,” he’d said.
I’d shaken my head, taken aback by the idea and thoroughly confused. “I don’t think there’s anything to fight for.”
And how could there be? It had been so easy for Seth just to cut off everything with me, without so much as a reason or warning. How could you really care about someone when you could walk away from them that easily?
I’d asked Deacon that, and again, he really didn’t have an answer.
Neither did I.
I loved Seth. I was in love with him. And I hurt so bad that every night, my pillow turned into a tissue, but I wasn’t going to beg Seth. I was feeling pretty pathetic, but that was a hard pass. I had my limit.
Or at least that was what I kept telling myself every time I passed his room or when I thought I saw him on campus. Like yesterday, when I was leaving the garden, I thought I saw him when I stepped out, but when I looked again, no one was there. I had seen him on Tuesday, talking to Luke as they were walking toward the main Council building. I wanted to give chase, to corner him, and demand to know exactly what had happened—what I’d done to initiate this change in him.
