Page 67 of Blood Oath
“Because we’re trying to recruit you, dumbass.”
Blinking, I study each of them in turn again. It’s dark aside from Harlow’s dim mage light, but I realize everyone here is in the House of Arcana. Three women and two men, all looking at me with varying expressions of amusement, wariness, and curiosity.
But none of them with disgust, which makes me realize what this is.
“You’re all atypical casters.”
“Except me,” Harlow nods. “But my mom was an atypical caster. Keep that to yourself, though.”
Which means…
“This has something to do with the anti-legacy shit,” I guess.
One of the guys grunts, scratching his beard. “Big conclusion to jump to. This is much more about being in each other’s corners when the other legacies start turning on us when they start to get freaked out. I already had a siren threaten me earlier that if more so-called real legacies are found dead with anti-legacy threats, he’s going to kill me first.”
“I’ve been threatened, too,” another of them groans. “As if it isn’t bad enough that I have to spend the rest of my life around a bunch of dangerous legacies just because magic decided to pop up in my veins, now we’ll all be targeted first if things keep going south.”
Harlow folds her arms, looking me over. “And since you’re already a prime target for so many legacies come next semester, thanks to your all-star quintet…you’re in double shit now, Oakley. Face it. You’re one of us, and asscasters need to stick together.”
I don’t stick together with anyone.
“So this is like a club for atypical casters. Nothing to do with the burning pyres?”
“Not unless you want it to,” Harlow grins.
Which answers my question. Maybe not all of them were involved with it, but she certainly was. The way she looks so smug about it is almost fucked up enough to make me like her.
“And you’re the self-appointed president,” I surmise.
“Hardly. After you handed Sierra her ass during combat, I realized you might be helpful. We’re just in this to help keep each other alive,” Harlow goes on, turning serious. “Checking in on each other, staying aware of what other students or professors think. And if they decide we’re a threat just because we come from the human side of the tracks, we can go on the run together.”
She means on the run from the bounty hunters that the Legacy Council would send after us. They’re the ones who hunt down and kill any legacy over the age of twenty-one that hasn’t been officially registered with the Legacy Council.
As warm and fuzzy as it might make these guys feel to have each others’ backs, it’s still disappointing that this didn’t turn into a frightening, bloodied brawl in the woods at midnight.
So much potential, wasted.
With a sigh, I sheathe my dagger into a hidden pocket. “I don’t run, and I don’t need any help staying alive. But if any of you are threatened again, invite me to the party. I enjoy spilling blood.”
The bearded guy raises his brows. “Damn. You sound a lot more badass than you look. Not that you look bad or anything, just…uh, frumpy.”
“Shut up, Evan,” Monica sighs. She looks at me with a sad sort of understanding. I wonder if she can feel how much I want to get away from her. As someone who purposefully ignores my emotions so they won’t get in the way, empaths freak me out. “I sense that you’ve been through a lot, Maven. We all have. Being a human in the world of legacies is…”
“Fucking terrifying,” Evan mutters.
“Exhausting,” another of them tacks on.
“A different world,” Monica nods, smiling a little. “Just know we’re a safe space.”
No such thing.
“Good chat,” I say flatly, turning to walk away before they think they can get chummy with me. “Don’t bother me again unless there’s someone to kill,” I add over my shoulder before retreating into the shadowy forest.
20
SILAS
I’ve always thought my curse would push me past the brink of insanity, but my keeper might beat it to the cut.
