Page 89 of Harnessed in Gold

But she’s not fooling any of us. Jenna fans herself while Mia smirks at me and rolls her eyes. I grin back, but inside I’m screaming,No way! The last thing Liv needs is to fall for a faerie. Trust me, I know.

As I nibble on too-hot fries, I try to fabricate some sort of story for Rime. Where he’s from, how he knows Leo, why he’ll be disappearing in a matter of days. But I’m drawing a blank.

Jenna slides her beer to me. “You’re not getting out of it, so drink, then spill the tea. We want to know about Leo.”

I don’t drink, I gulp. Then I say, “There’s no tea. We’re just friends.”

Mia snorts and rolls her eyes again.

“Girl, please,” Jenna says. “We’re not blind.”

“Um, well,” I admit, “we tried taking it, uh, you know, a little further, but?—”

Liv cuts in, “They really are just friends. Trust me. They just sit around talking about books and stuff.” She shrugs and gives a bored smile, like Leo and I are so lame. But I know she’s rescuing me. She shifts gears. “So what’s the deal with the hotel rooms? Did Trevor get the block discount or what?”

Spring Break in Panama City, a marginally safer topic. I just need to come up with an excuse for not going.

“Yeah,” Jenna answers. “I can’t remember the rate, but I’ll text you guys.”

“You’re coming, right?” Mia asks me.

“Um, I don’t think so. I mean, no, I can’t—” Actually, I could. It’sa week and a half away. Plenty of time to find the weapon and resume normal college life. Like I can recover from this with a simple Sunday reset. I fumble into the best excuse I can think up on the fly. “I need to go home, it’s a family thing. I promised I’d help plan my brother’s graduation party.”

I hold my breath, waiting for Liv to blurt out,Since when?But she simply nods and stuffs two fat fries into her mouth. Conveniently, our server arrives, forcing us to clear a space on the table for our huge pizza. She clunks down some extra plates and a wad of napkins and disappears.

Once we start on the pizza, the conversation shifts from trying to get me to go to Panama City to trying to get Laranotto go.

Jenna piles the dangling strands of cheese back onto the end of her pizza slice. “She has to know Zander can’t stand her.”

“I don’t think she cares,” Liv says with a wry twist of her lips. “If one time you succeed, try try again.”

I’m surprised she’s mentioning Zander’s indiscretion in front of me. She must be confident that I’m completely over him. Or, more precisely, she’s confidentshe’scompletely over him-and-me.

I serve myself another slice of pizza, pick the olives off, and eat them first. I’m probably going to end up eating more than I want, but it’s a way to keep my mouth occupied. I should be grateful for this reprieve. A chance to spend some time with friends, having a conversation that has nothing to do with villainous faeries, harnessing emotions, or weird-ass candlesticks. But it’s not like I’m benefitting from it. I’m struggling to engage. Struggling to keep up with who’s sleeping with whom and who wants to kick whose ass. Discussions about Sweetheart duties are a little more interesting, if only because of Liv. Her eyes light up when she suggests slip-and-slide races and a human pyramid challenge for the Greek Games in September.

There’s no going back to this life, is there? Even once this search is over. Being psychic, with an ability that’s multiplying exponentially by the day, means there’s no normal for me to go back to.

Halfway through our meal, our server returns to ask us if there’sanything we need. As I open my mouth to request a drink refill, I notice something odd happening outside the window behind her. She might be asking me if I need another Diet Coke, and I might be nodding. I might even be breathing. But the surge of panic in my chest would suggest otherwise.

A group of students stands just outside the restaurant door, probably debating whether to come in or go somewhere else. But what they’re doing there doesn’t matter. What does? That they don’t look at, or react to, the three figures weaving between them as they make their way past.

Three figures I recognize. Two men and one woman.

And I’m the only one who’s seeing them.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I may’ve just said that out loud.

My phone is on me somewhere.Where the hell did I put it?

“Betts—?”

“You okay?”

“What’s wrong?”

It’s not until someone lays a hand on my arm that I come to. Jenna.