I noticed that the conversation on the way back to the Palacio seemed a little too mundane, considering the people we were sharing the ride with. For elite Anomaly Guard agents, an Elf Knight officer, and an A-list celebrity in one vehicle, small talk wasn’t what I was expecting.I know Jester had a lot to tell me—there were so many things I wanted to tell him as well—but I guess he couldn’t really openly discuss anything in the car, now that I think about it.I mean, Bea and Sir Merrion were riding with us. I’m not sure how much Sir Merrion knows about the Coven, but I assume he must know quite a bit since he’s been assigned to guard me on the orders of the King and the Commander, and they’re the only threat I can think of. Still, he’s not a part of the Fourth, and there’s a ton of stuff about the Coven that’s classified. I know that Bea knows something is up with Spencer and me and the AG, but I haven’t told her anything about the Coven at all (and I am not allowed to, because of t

Drunk people were troublesome.Normally, Jester would not have cared if someone were to get drunk in front of him. He would not stop them, nor encourage them, and he definitely would not help them sober up—unless it was someone he personally knew. There were very few people from whom Jester would accept an invitation to go drinking with, and not a single one of them would get drunk on a half-bottle of wine.Alisa was apparently the exception.She had been so angry, she wasn’t thinking straight. That was how Jester would explain why she went to the mini fridge in their bedroom—it wasn’t until Jester saw his bags at the foot of the bed that it hit him that they were actually sharing a bedroom—and pulled out a bottle of wine, even knowing she was a light-weight. She poured herself a glass, tossed it down her throat, and repeated the process. Thrice. By the fourth glass, Jester decided to intervene—Alisa was red in the face and the reverberations of her intoxicated senses and messy emotio

Things went back to normal almost immediately after that. That mugging incident never happened again, and it was easy to forget about something horrible if it’s not happening directly to you. Marcus was his usual possessive self, and I should have had no expectations otherwise. He changed my memories, so of course I don’t have a proper recollection of what happened. There shouldn’t be any reason for me to feel uneasy with him.But I did. I guess somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew what was really going on. I think Marcus could tell, too. He became even more obsessed with keeping me by his side. There was even a rumor at school going around that he and I were dating secretly, because he’s always holding my hand.I’m sure that Aisha told you Marcus needed physical contact to reinforce his Gift, right? I think at that time Marcus was still testing the limits of his Gift. He was afraid of being apart from me because he wanted to make sure that I wouldn’t remember things I shouldn’t.

LeBlanc thought that West Park Stadium had never looked more like a treasure chest than it did tonight. It was bright, and shiny, and loud—and the people inside it were equally so.For most of the normal people in the three worlds, the Fashion Week Finale was a show you watch on your holo-screens. But now, LeBlanc was a part of it. He was there in the flesh.He had been fortunate enough to be invited to the Finale as a guest by his editor, and though he was not strictly required to work during the event, the photographer in him could not resist slinging his favorite camera over his shoulder. Fashion Week was like an all-you-can-eat buffet for him—there was no way he was passing up an opportunity to photograph the elite of the elite of the fashion world, in all their splendor. Of course, he would not be allowed to publicize any of his photographs unless he gains consent from his subjects. But he didn’t mind. He didn’t pursue photography for the money or the potential connections he cou

I suddenly stopped feeling bad for my PA when I realized why she was so on edge.They were hiding things from me again. They knew—Bea, Dad, Jester, they all knew—how much I hated that.“Give me my earpiece,” I said to Freya, pointing at the tiny purse on the couch beside her.“You have to focus on the Finale.” Bea said, snatching it away before Freya could even reach for it. “Forget what I said about New York. Right now, focus on the show, and when everything’s done, you can go and cuddle up to Jester as much as you like and have that talk.”“And if I say, ‘No, I don’t want to go to New York?’”Bea wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Come on. Be reasonable. It’s just a health break…”I narrowed my eyes at her, focusing on Bea’s emotions.How suspicious. There was concern for my health, certainly. But strangely, Bea seems to be more focused on my safety rather than the possibility of me relapsing into anorexia. Then, there’s the thing about Sir Merrion following me around on the orders of the King