“The little—” a ginger boy begins—another wolf shifter based on his silver eyes. His attention shifts to Jarron, wide with panic.
“Hey, Candice.” Stassi grins. “You look ravishing today, as always.” He winks at me.
My lips part in surprise, but Stassi just turns his attention back to the other wolves. “Not that hard.”
The first wolf chuckles. “Hey, Candice,” he says, copying the exact cadence, but not in a mocking way—I don’t think.
Jarron’s shoulders relax.
His hand rests on the small of my back and guides me down the spiral stairs to the speakeasy room. There are a few groups of supernaturals clustered around the bar top tables. At one table, three small girls have their noses in textbooks. At another, two boys and a girl are playing a card game. A group of boys stand in the corner chatting idly. I don’t recognize any of them.
We approach the fireplace at the end of the room, but the bench we sat at before is occupied by a couple sucking face. Jarron clears his throat, and the couple scurries away.
“That was not nice.”
“Did you expect a demon to be polite?”
“No,” I say quietly. “But I’d expect the Jarron I once knew to be.”
He examines me and takes a seat on the bench, waiting for me to join him. I swallow and then sit a few inches from him.
“Am I really that different? From whom you knew before?” He leans his elbows on his knees casually, examining the fire.
“Sometimes,” I admit. “But not always in a bad way.”
“Not always,” he repeats, tasting the words. “What don’t you like?”
My heart picks up speed. “I don’t know,” I whisper. Which is only partially true.
I find I do like the aggressive part of him more than I’d have thought. The Jarron I knew was generally quite sweet and attentive. Adventurous. He had lots of ideas and ambitions, but not in a take-over-the-world kind of way.
This Jarron is different.
He isn’t evil, the way I’d anticipated—at least in any way he’s shown me so far. He’s more reserved, which is kind of strange to me because he’s basically the king of this school. He could do anything he wants and even the headmaster would be hard pressed to stop him.
So why is he so quiet? So aloof? Why does he have no real friends?
Other than my secret fear that he’s the one who killed my sister, I have no reason to question his goodness. He’s more mature, which isn’t a bad thing.
Honestly, the only thing Idon’tlike is how his power makes me feel.
But he doesn’t hold that power over people. He simply is—in a way he can’t control.
“Tell me what you want from me, Candice. I’ll give you whatever you need.”
I ignore the pleasant twist in my belly. “I need answers.”
He nods. “I’m working on it.”
We quietly watch the flames flicker while other Elite students chatter behind us.
“Did it bother you?” he asks eventually. “The conversation at lunch today?”
“Why would it?”
He shrugs. “Just what Trevor said.”
I sniff and sit up straighter. “Well, Trevor thinks we’re really in a relationship too. Right?”
