Page 13 of Nightbound
“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this,” she grinned, settling back onto the bench. “Watching you try to focus on coaching while daydreaming about mystery boy’s ass should be highly entertaining.”
I was about to respond with something appropriately cutting when the door to the complex opened and athletic students began filtering in for the day. My stomach did an odd little flip as I realized that I’d have to put on my professional demeanor and pretend I hadn’t spent the morning reminiscing about the best sex of my very long life.
Time to get back to reality.
Chapter 6
Archer
“It’s literally the first weekend back at school,” I grumbled as Amelia and I headed for the teleportation stone circle. “Why do Mother and Fatherinsiston throwing a party every single time?”
“Because they like to remind us they’re still in control of our lives,” Amelia shot back, not tempering her words at all. “And they’re doing damage control.”
“Damage control?”
“From the Voss fiasco.”
“Still?” I asked, knitting my brows together. “That was almost a year ago now. It’s old news.”
“Not to them and not to their friends,” she replied, her blonde hair swinging as she walked. “They’re trying to prove that we’re not connected with them, that we never were, and that the Voss family has gone completely rogue.”
“That’s quite a lie to spin,” I groaned. “Good luck with that.”
“And there’s another thing,” she said, stopping at the edge of the stone circle.
“What’s that?”
She let out a long sigh, looking at me like I should already know the answer. “They want to pick out a new husband for me.”
“Ew… god. I’m sorry,” I said, the idea of it making my skin crawl. “Is there any way I can help with that?”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “Help me be as unappealing as possible.” She glanced my way, a determined look in her eyes. “Tell every boy you meet that I’m messy, I don’t take orders, that I fart a lot, and that I never brush my teeth. Anything it takes to get them to walk away.”
I didn’t even attempt to stifle my grin. “Oh… that’s gonna be way too much fun.”
“Good. Go absolutely hog wild with it. Just as long as I don’t get sold off to the highest bidder.”
“What if they find a guy that’s into gassy independent women?”
She laughed. “You know our parents would never approve of anyone like that.”
I nodded. “Yeah. You’ve got a point there.”
“Come on,” she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the circle. “Let’s get this stupid party over with.”
The familiar tug in my stomach made me grit my teeth as the world dissolved around us. Teleportation always made me nauseous, but I’d learned not to complain about it years ago. The Quinn family didn’t tolerate weakness, even something as minor as motion sickness from magical transport.
When the world solidified again, we were standing in the grand foyer of the Quinn mansion. The familiar marble floors gleamed under the crystal chandelier, and I could already hear the sound of voices and clinking glasses from the main parlor. My parents had spared no expense on this party. There seemed to be some sort of unspoken correlation between money spent on a party and howokaythey wanted everything to seem. But it wasn’t just them, all their friends did the same thing.
“Remember,” Amelia whispered as we handed our coats to one of the house staff. Mother never kept the same person longenough for us to learn their names. “Make me sound absolutely revolting.”
“Trust me, I’ve got this,” I whispered back, straightening my tie. The formal wear felt restrictive after spending the weekend in casual clothes, like putting on a costume for a role I didn’t want to play.
We walked into the main parlor together, and I immediately spotted our parents holding court near the fireplace. Mother was resplendent in midnight blue silk, her blonde hair swept into an elegant chignon and a diamond encrusted comb that probably cost more than most people’s monthly rent. Father stood beside her in his perfectly tailored black suit, looking every inch the powerful witch patriarch he was.
The room was filled with the usual suspects from the most prominent magical families. I recognized the Ashfords near the windows, the Sterlings by the bar, and what looked like two members of the Elder Council scattered throughout the crowd. Everyone was dressed to impress and probably gossiping about everyone else behind their champagne flutes.
“Archer! Amelia!” Mother’s voice carried across the room as she spotted us. “Come, there are some people I’d like you to meet.”
