“Here, take my napkin.” She plucked a single, thin cafeteria napkin from her tray and dropped it onto the table, where it was instantly soaked.
I glared at Nash and would have been appeased a bit by how miserable he looked—if I weren’t busy blotting my shirt, while Coke pooled where I’d sat a second earlier.
“I’ll get more napkins,” he muttered, then jogged toward the cafeteria, leaving me alone with Sabine.
“Sorry about the mess.” Sabine stepped calmly around the table and added Nash’s napkin to the puddle on my bench seat, apparently oblivious to everyone else in the quad now staring at us. “I just needed a chance to talk to you, girl-to-girl,” she said, stepping too close to me so no one else would hear. “I figure it’s best to get this out in the open.”
“What?” I couldn’t think beyond the cold, sticky spots on my shirt.
“It’s cute, how he still thinks he loves you. Very chivalrous. Very Nash. But if you’re not gonna make your move, don’t blame me for making mine.” She shrugged, and I saw that dark flash of … something in her eyes again. “Love, war, and all that. Right?”
Was she serious? Was this an open declaration of her intent to take my boyfriend? My kind-of boyfriend? Just like that?
My mouth opened and closed. Say something! I couldn’t let her have the last word—that first little victory.
“So … which is this?” I asked, frustrated to realize that I sounded shell-shocked. “Love, or war?”
Sabine’s smooth forehead wrinkled in surprise. “Both!” She smiled, a glaring ray of sunshine beneath storm-cloud eyes. “When it’s good, it’s always both. And Nash is so very, very good.” Her eyes widened in mock regret, like she’d just let some vital secret out of the bag. “Oh, but you wouldn’t know, would you?”
My face flushed. “He told you …?” Hadn’t he already humiliated me enough?
Sabine shook her head slowly, exaggerating a show of sympathy. “He didn’t have to. You may as well have a shiny white V stamped on your forehead.”
Suddenly I hated her. Truly hated her, in spite of my generally forgiving temperament and everything Nash swore she’d been through.
Unfortunately, my abject hatred saw fit to express itself in utter speechlessness.
“Anyway, I don’t have many girlfriends, so when this is all over, if you wanna hang out, I’m totally willing to let bygones be … well, bygone.” She watched me expectantly—completely seriously—and I could only stare until Sabine blinked and shrugged again. “Or not. Either way, good luck!”
She reached out with her right hand and shook mine before I recovered the presence of mind to jerk away from her grip. When my skin touched hers, Sabine blinked, and her eyes stayed closed just an instant too long. When they opened and focused on me, her smile swelled, her irises darkened, and my chill bumps returned with a vengeance.
I pulled away from her and almost backed into Emma. “What happened?” Em asked, holding out a handful of napkins.
“I knocked her Coke over,” Sabine said, as Nash jogged across the grass toward us. They soaked up the mess while I carried the soggy remains of my lunch to the trash can against the wall, desperate to put some distance between me and my new least favorite person in the whole world. In either world.
At least Avari’d never invaded my school.
“What the hell was that?” I whispered under my breath, as I dumped my empty bottle and my ruined hamburger into the can.
“That was Sabine,” Tod said from my left, and I jumped, nearly dropping my sticky tray.
“Something’s wrong with her,” I whispered, when I’d recovered from the surprise. “If she wasn’t human, I’d swear that …”
“Human?” Tod’s brows rose. “She’s not human, Kay. Not even close. Nash didn’t tell you?”
Crap. He’d tried to tell me something about Sabine. Tried twice, but she’d suddenly shown up to prevent him both times. “What is she?” I said, turning to watch the cleanup effort under way at our table as my heart tried to sink into my stomach.
“She’s your worst Nightmare, Kaylee,” Tod said, his frown widening. “Literally.”
6
I STOMPED THROUGH the empty hall, each step putting the cafeteria farther behind me. But I couldn’t outrun anger and humiliation.
Sabine wasn’t human. The one advantage I’d thought I had over her was that Nash and I had bonded through a mutual lack of humanity, which set us apart from everyone else at school. I knew what he really was and what he could do. I knew things about him that he could never tell anyone else.
But evidently, so did she. And Nash hadn’t bothered to tell me.
Oh, he’d started to a couple of times, but I couldn’t help thinking that if he’d really wanted me to know, he wouldn’t have let Sabine’s timely interruptions stop him.
Tod had started to tell me everything, but I’d cut him off. I wanted to hear it from Nash, when we had enough time and privacy for me to demand real answers. I needed to yell at him, but I didn’t want to do it in front of Sabine. I couldn’t let her know that her declaration was getting to me, nor was I willing to let her see me mad at Nash. She would only take that wedge and drive it deeper.
I turned the corner and stomped past two open classroom doors, ignoring the chair squeaks and whispers from inside as my thoughts raced, my cheeks flaming with anger. The door to the parking lot called to me from the end of the hall. There were only five minutes left in lunch, and then I could escape into my English class, where no one could challenge me, lie to me, or threaten to take my boyfriend.
I had both hands on the door’s press bar when Nash shout-whispered my name from behind. “Kaylee, wait!” I froze, then turned slowly. So much for escape.
He jogged to catch up with me and I crossed both arms over my chest, displaying my anger, in case he hadn’t picked up on it yet.
“She’s not human?” I demanded softly, when he came to a stop inches away. “Is that what you were going to tell me?”
“Along with some specifics, yeah.” He shrugged apologetically. “I tried to tell you earlier, but …”
“Sabine got in the way, right? I have a feeling that’s about to become routine.”
Nash exhaled slowly. “Can we go somewhere and talk? Please? I want to explain everything, but I need to be able to speak to you alone for more than a few minutes at a time.” And from the frustrated twist of color in his eyes, I knew he wanted to talk about more than just Sabine’s species. We hadn’t really spoken—not like we used to—in more than two weeks. I missed talking to him.
“Please,” he repeated. “Skipping one English class won’t hurt anything.”
Talking to him without Sabine around was exactly what I needed. I opened my mouth to say yes—then snapped my jaw closed before I could form a single word, terrified by the sudden, familiar thread of pain and primeval need winding its way up my throat.
No!
“Kaylee?” Nash whispered, while I glanced around the hall frantically. It was empty, but the dark panic inside me continued to swell. Someone nearby was going to die. Soon, based on the strength of the scream clawing its way up my throat.
I clamped one hand over my mouth and aimed a wide-eyed, desperate look at Nash. He knew the signs. His brow furrowed and his irises began to swirl with brown and green eddies of distress. “Who is it? Can you tell?”