Page 14 of Alchemy of Souls

“You were markednothing.Absolutely nothing. You’re lucky you’re going to University at all,” he replies, and my usual calm slips.

Even though I clamp down on my anger a second after it arises, he reads it, because a small smile appears on his face.

Satisfied he’s put me in my place, he leans back in his chair. “As far as your classmates are concerned, the Lawless interfered with the discernment spell and that complication has been fully resolved. Your fates are now tied, and since this deal was yours, Grayson, you’ll be taking full responsibility for it. If Miss Belrose doesanythinguntoward, it’ll be you who suffers the consequences by her side.” With that, he snaps his fingers and the door behind us flies open.

All I can hope is Eloise knows how she called that Key. Not that I have any intention of handing it over to my uncle.

“Remember, I have eyes everywhere,” he adds like the threat it is.

CHAPTER 10Eloise

I want to angry cry, but I can’t. If I don’t keep up this lie, I can’t keep the people I love safe.

The most uncomfortable part is that my family is overwhelmed with joy. My mother beams. Delilah jumps up and down. Even Gran pats me on the cheek, telling me I’m the best decision that University ever made. Right before she glares at the Guardians, of course, who barely fit in our cozy living room.

I tell my family they’re my escort, since it’s after dark and we live in the most under-warded section of town, and Mom actually thanks the bastards for protecting me.

I smile for their sake, but it must not reach my eyes, because Mom’s brows push together. “Aren’t you happy, love?”

“This is what you’ve always wanted,” Gran adds, even though I know she’s muttering under her breathhowever questionable. Gran hates Mages. Granted, she hates the Lawless more, but only by a slim margin. She blames them both for Grandad’s death.

All the while Delilah sings, “El-belle’s going to be a May-age.”

The Guardians stare at us with blank expressions.

“Of course I’m happy,” I say as convincingly as I can. “I just wasn’t expecting it to happen so fast, you know? I thought—” Myvoice falters and I have to pull it back. “I just thought I’d have more than an hour here with you guys.”

What I thought was that I’d be celebrating my admittance, not lying to my family and disappearing to Europe where I might never be seen again.

My mother pulls me into a hug and my sister throws herself at my legs. “It’s going to be good, sweet girl. Holiday break will be here sooner than you think. And we’ll smother you with home cooking and themed pajamas,” she says in my ear, the comfort in her voice making me want to bury my head in her neck and never come out.

The Guardians barely wait for me to throw some personal items into a duffel bag. Not that I have much. Uniforms are issued, as is just about everything else.

Walking out my front door onto the stone driveway feels like the hardest steps I’ve ever taken. As I climb into the black SUV with the tinted windows, I look back at my family cottage with its puffing chimney and rosebushes.

My eyes well. Will I ever see this place again? Will they ever know the truth of what happened to me if I fail to summon the Archive Key?

My family waves enthusiastically as the engine roars to life. My mother’s hand goes to her mouth, prideful tears brimming in her eyes. I twist in my seat, watching them until we turn and they disappear from view. I immediately reach for my phone so I can text them how I’ll keep them in my heart every second I’m away. But it’s not there.

“Wait. Stop,” I say in a panic. “I mean, can you guys turn around? I left my phone by mistake.”

“No phones permitted at University,” the lanky Guardian withthe crooked nose says, and gives me a pointed look that tells me everything I need to know. I didn’t leave it. They took it. And from this point forward there will be no contact with my family or anyone, maybe ever again.

The Guardians don’t park the SUV in the airport parking lot. They produce documents at the gate and we drive directly onto the tarmac.

I step onto the pavement, wind whipping my long braid. The Guardian with the crooked nose has my duffel bag and tosses it in the plane’s cargo compartment. The other—who the Chancellor called Damien—juts his chin at the steps.

“Get a move on,” Damien says gruffly. “Or I’ll gladly pick you up and throw you in with the luggage.”

My pulse quickens and I grab the cool railing, making my way up the metal stairs. Everything is cream and dark wood. There are tufted couches with earth-toned pillows, under which are storage drawers with gold handles. And in the back of the plane, through a shiny wooden archway, is Grayson Stone sprawled on a curved couch.

Despite the fact that we’ve never really talked, I head straight for him. Because whether I like it or not, our lives are now bound.

The couch Grayson’s on is more than big enough for two people, even though he seems to take up the whole of it. His leg is kicked up on the cushions and his hands are linked behind his head, causing the fabric of his black T-shirt to pull tightly over his armsand upward, revealing a strip of golden-tan muscle just above his jeans. His dark waves tumble onto his forehead and his shockingly blue eyes look up at me under sooty lashes. The effect is completely disorienting.

Whatever look I have on my face must amuse him, because he smirks. “You’ve got a little something…,” he says and wipes the corner of his mouth.

I immediately touch my face only to realize a second too late that he’s making a joke that I’m drooling.