“That’s Ashley Hall, a second year student last year. Her parents live in the same building as mine. I heard the rumors, we all did . . .” She leans in close. “Supposedly Ashley slept with a third year Evermore. Why would she be so stupid? I mean, they’re attractive, sure. But there are other things you can do that don’t get you in trouble.”
I glare at Evelyn. “So, what? She slept with him, and then they expelled her for it? What happened to him?”
“Nothing,” Mack says, the low growl in her voice making it clear she doesn’t approve. “But that’s just the way it is.”
“That is so backwards,” I mutter. “But why not send her off to fight in the scourge?”
“Usually the students busted for hooking up with an Evermore get sold to the clubs as . . . dancers, or worse. Once we sleep with an Evermore, we’re marked forever as a Fae-whore.”
I roll my eyes. “Sounds like my high school.”
Evelyn tugs at her skirt, a mini leather thing that barely hides her goods. “I heard the Winter King himself bought her slave contract. I’d rather die than suffer that humiliation. Can you imagine belonging to the Winter Court? Being forced to work in their sleazy clubs and wear their brand?”
I don’t point out that we’re in one of those sleazy clubs, and I wear their brand. But her gaze flicks to my arm where the tattoo swirls over my flesh, and her eyes go wide as she realizes her mistake.
“Evelyn,” Mack says, rolling her eyes, “insert foot in mouth.”
Evelyn doesn’t know why I have the prince’s mark; only Mack knows that secret.
Before Evelyn can apologize, the door on the other side squeaks open and a boy around my age appears, carrying a metal tray that holds four flutes full of fizzing liquid.
“Finally,” Mack groans.
His back is to us as he sets the tray down on the desk. Wow. He’s a big one. I start to make a joke just as he turns around—
And then I gasp. My body physically recoiling from him. Without thinking, I leap to my feet, searching for a weapon as adrenaline floods my body.
33
“Summer!” Mack yells, her eyes wide. “What’s wrong?” She and Evelyn crowd around me, only adding to my discomfort.
I’m breathing hard as I look from them to our mentor, Callum. Or, as he’s called on the other side, Cal.
“I know him,” I growl, jerking my chin at Cal.
To his credit, he’s putting on a good show of being surprised. He’s pressed against the door, hands held high, a shocked look on his face.
“You know . . . Callum?” Mack asks, looking from me to him.
“Yeah, and I refuse to be anywhere near him.” I cross my arms over my chest to drive home the point.
Cal actually has the audacity to look hurt, his bushy eyebrows mashing together above a frown. If I didn’t know what sort of a-hole he was, I would have been convinced I truly hurt his feelings.
Mack’s eyes narrow, and I can see her brain whirring behind her dark hair. “How would you know . . .” Suddenly the wrinkle trenched across her forehead smooths out. “Oh.”
She marches over to where Cal presses into the wall and lifts his big hand up, exposing his wrist. The Winter Court mark, similar to the one inside my tattoo, flares against his flesh just below his palm. “Cal is a changeling,” Mack says as if I know what the hell she’s talking about.
“A change-what?” I say.
“Oh, right. We haven’t covered that yet.” She drops his wrist and then pats his arm. “It’s okay, she’ll calm down once I explain. Here”—she grabs the flute brimming with pink potion and offers it to me—“let’s down these, since you obviously need to chill, and then I’ll explain.”
Normally, I wouldn’t chug a mysterious, magical liquid, even if Mack promises I’ll adore it, but after the shock of seeing Cal in Everwilde, I desperately need something.
The liquid fizzes all the way down my throat and into my stomach. When every ounce of liquid has been drained from the flute, a pink wisp of smoke trickles from the rim and dances around my head in the shape of a dragon.
Mack’s becomes a smoky teal sprite that giggles before evanescing. Callum’s is a centaur that gallops around the room shooting arrows of smoke. Evelyn’s becomes a mermaid that circles her head, splashing smoke-water at her.
“Wow,” I say, clutching my belly. “That was . . . intense.”
For a moment, it feels as if a swarm of feathery butterflies have been let loose in my stomach. Then a wave of complete joy washes over me.
This is nice. So nice. Cal is nice. Everyone is nice.
“I love everyone,” I purr.
I sit on my butt beside Mack and Evelyn, both girls matching my silly grin with smiles of their own. I have no idea why we’re on the floor instead of the couch.
“See,” Mack says, petting my face. “Now, ready for more truth about Callum?”
I nod happily.
“So Callum is a changeling,” Mack begins. Callum plops his giant form beside us as he watches Mack explain. “He was taken as a baby and replaced by an other—a lookalike Fae child.”
Despite my relaxed state, I shudder. “Do his parents know?”
I’ve never met his mom, or even seen her for that matter. But his dad and this other, this changeling, are together all the time.
“No,” Callum answers for Mack. His big head rests in his hand, and his face looks crestfallen as he discusses his parents. “My dad made a deal with the Winter Court when I was seven, and then he couldn’t pay. So they took me, put a changeling in my place, and glamoured my dad to forget he ever owed the Evermore. Since then, I’ve been a servant for the Winterspell family.”
Winterspell . . . that’s Inara’s surname.
My head spins. “So . . . the Cal I went to high school with, the all-American boy who could be the poster child for rednecks everywhere, is a secret Fae? Why?”
“We don’t know,” Mack says. “There are changelings all over the mortal world, but who knows why they do it?”
“Are there other changeling humans at Evermore Academy?” I ask, trying not to sound too hopeful. If there are others here who haven’t been groomed from practically birth for the academy, then maybe I won’t stick out so much.
“No,” Callum says, shaking his head. “I’m only here because I tricked Inara’s uncle into wagering a spot here for me during a game of farvane.”
Farvane is a dice game played by some of the Evermore students in the commons. The rules seem incredibly complicated, and some magic is involved.
Mack grins. “It hasn’t exactly made him popular with Inara.”
I sigh. “She has a new person to hate, so you’re probably safe now. You’re welcome.”
Callum suddenly looks around. “Wait, why are we sitting on the floor?”
Mack giggles. “Actually, why are we inside this room? Let’s go show those Fae pricks how dancing is supposed to look.”
Dancing? I have as much rhythm as a praying mantis, but the others leave before I can protest. So I blow out a breath and follow them down to the dance floor. The floor is packed with bodies, all Fae.