Foretold (St. Bastian Institute 1) - Page 92

To my relief, he didn’t appear suspicious as we left the living room. It was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other. What on earth was really going on here?

Okay, Darya, just play it cool until your parents arrive.

The last few weeks ran through my mind. How had he managed to fool us all so well, me in particular? His magic must’ve been powerful because it took some serious juice to pull off a glamour like the one he’d been using. I couldn’t believe this person who I thought was my friend was the one causing so much mayhem in my life the last few weeks.

I cast him a glance, fury building inside me. He’d said he was wearing his contacts, but I bet he didn’t even need glasses. It was all a carefully honed disguise, a fake, unassuming persona so that people didn’t pay too much attention to him.

I sat on the stool next to his and took a sip of tea. I couldn’t help looking at him again. Now that Angela had revealed the truth, his glamour was no longer working on me, and I could see that he was a virtual stranger, certainly not the red-haired boy I’d known for years. A jagged scar ran vertically down his face, stretching from the top of his forehead to the bottom of his cheek. I could also see his horns that he’d so cleverly disguised. They were a speckled brown colour, about three inches long and curved away from his temples.

I couldn’t decide if I found them fascinating or terrifying.

Then I realised my mistake. I’d been staring at them a beat too long, and he noticed.

The imposter stilled for several long moments, and I considered making a dash for the door. His eyes held mine as all traces of the shy, awkward boy vanished, along with any display of inebriation. He was stone-cold sober as I stared into his deceitful yet beautiful eyes. They seemed bluer now, almost glowing.

“There was me believing you really were terrible at magic,” he drawled, standing from the stool. What on earth? His accent had changed completely, and my skin crawled at the abrupt switch. He didn’t sound like Nic anymore. He sounded like someone who came from a place far, far away. He sounded like the voice from my dreams.

It was foretold that you would be born for greatness, but now you belong to me.

I suppressed a shiver at the memory and tried to fake ignorance. “What are you talking about?”

“You finally saw through my glamour,” he paused and tilted his head. There was a flash of malevolence in his eyes and I knew I was in danger. I dove into action, leaping from the stool and dashing for the door. Nic moved fast, pushing me sideways, my body slamming into the wall. Pain shattered through me as he circled me. I regrouped, eyeing all possible exits. Despite my years of combat training, I knew the best way to escape a stronger predator was to run.

Unfortunately, I was blocked in.

“Get out of my way,” I demanded.

“I’ll let you leave,” he said, stepping close to me. “But first, I want to talk.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” I replied, a shiver of trepidation running down my spine. There was nothing else for it. I was going to have to fight. I swung out but he deftly evaded my punch. I tried again and he held a hand up, muttering a spell. My arm paused in mid-air. I tried to move but I was frozen in place.

“Please,” he said. “Sit down for a moment and talk to me. Then I’ll let you go.”

I gritted my teeth. “I don’t believe you.”

“Well, you don’t have another choice. I’m more powerful than you, and I won’t let you leave this room until you listen to me.” He motioned to the stool and my gut twisted. I hated admitting that he was right. I had physical strength, but he could freeze me with his magic before I got anywhere near the door. For now, I needed to stick around.

He released his magical hold and I approached the stool and sat, shifting backwards when he took two steps toward me, his arms going around me as he rested his hands behind me against the counter. I bristled. He smelled like cloves and burnt wood. I couldn’t believe I actually kissed him during that game of Truth or Dare. I kissed a potential murderer. Not only that, I’d enjoyed it.

“I have to admit; it’s oddly invigorating to have you finally see me.”

“Who are you?” I asked, wanting answers.

He bent close to speak quietly in my ear. “My name is Vasilios.”

“You’re Vasilios?” My head started to spin. “Then who does the Guard have in custody?”

Tags: L.H. Cosway St. Bastian Institute Fantasy
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