Eventually, he starts flying slowly by various architectural elements I recall from Mr. Damasen’s list. I pull my phone from my coat pocket and quickly snap several pictures of each feature as we fly by.
When I finish taking the last picture, I put my phone back in my pocket and zip it up. Flint gives me another quick look over his shoulder and, I swear, shoots me a surprisingly wicked grin, considering he’s a dragon. That’s the only clue I have to grip his neck tightly before he’s soaring back up into the sky again, spinning a bit as we go.
And then, when I think we can’t go any higher—he stops flapping his wings entirely.
We freeze in the sky for a split second without his strong wings pushing us forward, and my breath catches in my throat. I have an idea what he’s about to do next, and I can feel the scream building in my chest. But before I can open my mouth and set it free, Flint flips his large body in midair, and suddenly…we’re diving straight for the ground, wings tucked tight against his body as we continue to pick up speed.
I’m screaming like I’m on the scariest roller coaster ride in existence. Even Hudson gives a shout from behind me, his arms reaching around my waist and tugging me against his chest as though to protect me. And just like that, the wild thing deep inside me is set free again, and I’m laughing so hard, I can barely catch my breath.
At least until we get closer to the ground, because Flint’s showing absolutely no sign of slowing down despite the fact that the tree line is looming awfully close. My stomach clenches, and a quick glance behind me shows that even Hudson looks a little nervous. But Flint hasn’t steered us wrong yet, so I just take a deep breath and wait for whatever he’s going to do next.
What he does next, in fact, is pull up at pretty much the last second, sending us screaming back to the top of the castle as I laugh and laugh and laugh. Now Flint looks back at me, laughter in his own eyes as we do two quick spins around the school before finally coming in for the smoothest landing ever.
I manage to get off him pretty much the way I got on but in reverse, and seconds later, I’m back on the ground, standing on my own shaky legs.
There’s another shimmer, another air funnel, and a few seconds later, Flint is standing next to me in what’s left of his school uniform—which now is little more than a pair of ripped-up pants and half a button-down shirt missing all the buttons.
I take one look at him and start laughing, partly because of his clothes and partly because of the goofy smile on his face. It doesn’t take long before he’s laughing, too.
“So what’d you think?” Flint asks.
“It wasn’t quite the flying lesson I was anticipating,” I answer with a grin. “But it was so much fun.” And it’s true. For the first time since I turned human again, I feel completely, 100 percent myself. It’s a good feeling, one that has me holding on to Flint’s arm because I don’t want him to go. I don’t want him to take this feeling with him. “Did you have fun?”
“I really did. And you’re a natural.”
“Yeah, right. You rolled your eyes at me.”
He very deliberately rolls them again. “You couldn’t figure out how to get on my back.”
“Well, it’s not like dragons come with an instruction manual. It was difficult.”
“Apparently.” I stick my tongue out at him, but he just laughs. “Wanna do it again sometime?”
“Absolutely.” I take a second to go over my schedule in my head. Then suggest, “How about tomorrow morning? We could get the whole Ludares team together to meet and maybe practice for the tournament? And you can show me how to fly, using my own wings this time.”
“I like the way you think, New Girl. Meet you on the practice field at nine?”
“Make it ten. Macy’s not a morning person.”
He shakes his head. “Witches and vamps, man. They never are.” He glances toward the school. “You need me to walk you back to your room?”
“Nah, I’m good. But thanks, Flint.” I give him an impulsive hug. “You’re the best.”
“Not so much, New Girl.” This time his smile is tinged with just a little bit of sadness. “But I can’t wait to see you fly tomorrow. See if you can give me a run for my money.”
“Pretty sure a F-35 couldn’t give you a run for your money, but thanks for the compliment.” I give him a little wave, then head toward the stairs that lead up to the front entrance. As I go, I can’t help wondering what it is that keeps making Flint seem so sad when he thinks I’m not looking.
56
Just Shut Up
and Dance
I’m exhausted by the time I get back to my bedroom around eight. Macy tries to convince me to go hang out with some of her witch friends—they’re getting together for Netflix and facials—but the truth is, I’m too nervous about tomorrow to think about anything else.
I’m going to meet the whole Ludares team tomorrow—Flint and Macy worked on rounding it out today, and they think they’ve finally got the team we need to win. And we need to win, at least if we’re going to get the bloodstone we need to force Hudson out of my head and turn him human. Without it, we’re totally screwed.
But how am I supposed to compete in this game I still know next to nothing about? I mean, I know it takes place in the Katmere athletic complex—a place I’ve never even set foot in before. I also know that it’s a strange hybrid of Keep Away and Hot Potato and that every member on the team has to control the ball for at least one part of the game.
All of which translates to me having to keep the ball away from the other team with my nonexistent skills.
I mean, yeah, I can turn to stone with the ball, but that isn’t going to get it across the finish line. Supposedly, I can fly, but that would require shifting into my gargoyle form, which I’ve yet to do again. Well, that and actually flying. And as for the channeling-magic thing… I don’t know. How much of that was me this afternoon and how much of it was Hudson? It’s a question that’s haunted me since I realized it was his power, rather than Macy’s, that I was directing.
Nervous, frustrated, and more than a little freaked out, all I really want to do is bury my head in a good book and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist—even if part of that world is actually sharing my headspace with me.
But ten minutes into that plan, I realize it’s a bust. I’m still way too hyped-up from a combination of nerves and residual energy from what was probably the most amazing flying lesson in the history of flying lessons to just sit around on my bed.
Maybe I should have gone to girls’ night with Macy after all. At least I’d have something to do besides watch my own fears chase one another around and around in my head all night. But if I’d gone, I’d be forced to make small talk with people I don’t know, and that’s a whole different level of stress. Especially since I’ve never been very good at small talk even at the best of times.