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mess around. He went on an unauthorized demon-killing spree and destroyed government property in the process,” Amelia says with awe.

Me too, minus the property part. “What about you? Who are you going with?”

Amelia’s cheeks flush.

“What about Tyrren’s roommate, Aaron? He seems like a loose cannon, but not one you can’t handle.” There’s no denying her pink cheeks whenever she sees him.

“More like a missile or a landmine. He wasn’t at breakfast or class today though.” She knocks me in the shoulder. “Anyway, the ball. Despite the divide between fae and vamps, they’re trying to bridge our differences with Fae Court dances and vampire endurance games—if you think that kind of thing is fun. I do not.”

“If it’s a masquerade, what about costumes?”

“Last year I wore a yellow floor-length gown with marigolds stitched into the bodice.”

I waggle my eyebrows.

“This is an event. We get full-on fancy like the Fae Courts in Borea.” She leads me down the path to our next class, sharing all the details, especially how gorgeous I’d look in red.

Rizon and a few of his buddies bar our path.

I fold my arms across my chest and cock a hip.

“We heard you like pranks. Back at your old school, you’d do things like this with your scab friend.”

Anger as deadly as iron rises in my blood. “I. Did. Not. Spray. Paint. The. Building,” I say through gritted teeth. “And don’t use the word scab.”

“Was it you who spray painted faetcher on the quad with a big X across it?” Amelia says, coming to my defense.

He snorts. “Are you sure it wasn’t your scab boyfriend.”

My eyes narrow. “I don’t have a boyfriend and you know nothing about me.”

“We know where you come from and all about Tyrren.” Rizon leers.

I turn to Amelia, “Do you think a mouthful of broken teeth would be an improvement or—?” I rely on Tyrren to finish my sentences, but I think Rizon gets the point.

His pals back up.

“Try it. You’ll break your hand,” he says.

“It’s an unfair fight, Lea,” Amelia says then louder, “Someday, we’ll have our power back and you won’t stand a chance.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Rizon laughs.

Emeric saunters our way with his shoulders back. His expression is smug. He wears a black robe over his uniform—according to Amelia, this is a sign of him being a mage, similar to how Tyrren earned belts in jiu-jitsu. “I suggest you leave Lea and her friend alone.”

Rizon steps closer, posturing. “Is that a threat?”

“Something like that.” Emeric exudes power despite the magic suppression enforced by the school. Maybe it’s different for mages.

Rizon snorts and then storms off.

“You okay, Leajka?” Emeric whispers.

I nod. “Thank you.” I know I can handle myself but something comes over me in his presence.

“Good. I’m wondering if you’d like to accompany me to the Fae Court ball. I enjoyed dancing with you the other night.” His lips quirk.

“I’d be delighted.”

Amelia practically squeals with excitement.

For the rest of the day, all anyone talks about is the graffiti and the masquerade ball. All I can think about is the silence growing between Tyrren and me.

On Saturday evening, I stand in front of a mirror dressed in a black silk gown with an underlay of red feathers. The word that comes to mind is fascinating. The smooth fabric in my hand is like a fluid work of art. I’ve never worn anything like this. Emeric sent it to me as a gift.

Over my shoulder, Amelia smiles approvingly.

“This is so not me. I’m more of a jeans and T-shirt kind of gal.” I swish back and forth.

She laughs and gives me a mask covered with crystals and a plume on the side.

“Is this for real?” I ask.

She holds out a pair of black high heels like the kinds Ivan’s dates wear. The soles are red like the feathers. I teeter to my feet, trying to get used to balancing with the extra inches added to my already tall frame.

At twilight, Emeric meets me at my dorm. He looks regal in a velvet frock coat, trousers, and his hair loose around his face. We walk along the path leading to the common quad. Glittering lamps guide the way flickering on the cement.

“I’m surprised Jurik didn’t cancel it after the second instance of graffiti,” Amelia says, catching up to us.

“I’m surprised she didn’t blame Tyrren or me.” I tell them about being called into the office and probation.

If they’re shocked, they don’t show it as we enter the parade of couples and small groups crowding into the entryway. Emeric grips my hand as if showcasing me as his date. My cheeks warm.

I realize Amelia is probably looking for Aaron—he hasn’t been in class. I watch for his roommate. My heart sinks at the possibility that he has a date. I want him to be happy...and that’s not with me.

If I still lived a normal life it would be my high school’s actual prom night. I wonder how much fun Lucas and Saundra are having. But it’s nothing like the kick in the gut when I see a tall blond named Jasmin on the arm of a guy wearing a black suit with tails and a gold mask with Romanesque flourishes. Jasmin leans in and says something to Tyrren. He tosses his head back with laughter.

I plaster on a smile. Music that’s nothing like what the DJ spins at regular prom plays. Instead, it’s the plucking of strings and a melodious whistle.

“Back home, dances like this would happen every weekend. The fae are a festive bunch,” Emeric says. “Even though at RIP Jr we’re meant to assimilate to be more like natural mortals, we get this one little indulgence.” He winks. “I hope you like to dance, Leajka, because I

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