“You were with me the first time I met him. You heard him call me Sagamore.”

That didn’t seem to stop her. The thing she apparently had for Creed must have been shorting her logic circuits, as it didn’t seem to compute.

“Yeah, well. I just think you need to stop playing coy.”

I almost called her out, almost reminded her that it was her best friend—M.K.—who seemed to have an in with John Creed, not me.

But before I could speak, someone else jumped in.

“Is there a problem?”

We looked behind us to where he stood on the sidewalk in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, stormy blue eyes trained on Veronica.

Sebastian. Reaper . . . and now stalker?

My heart began to pound in my chest, and my fingers began to tingle with anticipatory magic. The Darkening on my back warmed, maybe from my proximity to him, my heart suddenly thudding in my chest. I’m not going to lie—I was scared out of my mind. This guy was a Reaper. I mean, I didn’t think he was going to blast me right here on the sidewalk, but I could still remember how much the firespell had hurt. I really didn’t want to go through that again.

Of course, now I had firespell, too.

“What?” Veronica stuttered out, her gaze moving between me and Sebastian.

“I asked if there was a problem.” His voice was cold and smooth like marble, his steely eyes on the brat in front of me. I wasn’t sure if I should applaud him . . . or feel sorry for her.

“No.”

“Great. Probably you should get to class, then.”

She started to argue, but before she could get out word one, he’d dropped his head a quarter of an inch, leveling his gaze at her.

“We’re done,” she said, evil eyes on me, before turning and hurrying toward the gate. Since the first bell had already rung, I needed to do the same thing. But before I could bolt, he put a hand on my arm.

A shiver trickled down my spine.

“Get your hand off me.”

“I’m not done with you.”

I made myself look back at him, made myself look him in the eyes. “We’re on the street. You can’t do anything here.”

“Sure I could,” Sebastian said. “But I won’t.” He glanced back at Veronica’s bobbing form. “Is she giving you trouble?”

“You’re giving me trouble,” I told him. “I knew I saw you on the street the other day. Why are you following me around?”

“Because we need to talk.”

At least he wasn’t going to deny it. “We have nothing to talk about.”

“We have firespell to talk about.”

“No,” I corrected, “we have firespell, period. End of story. There’s nothing that needs to be talked about.”

“Really.” His voice couldn’t have been drier. “Because you’re an expert in using it? In manipulating it? In creating the spark?”

“In creating the—”

“The spark,” he interrupted. “You know nothing about your power. And that’s ridiculously dangerous.”

I crossed my arms and huffed out a breath. “And what—you should be the one to teach me?”

The look he gave back suggested that was exactly what he thought he should do. But then his eyes clouded. “The world isn’t nearly as black and white as you believe, Lily.”

I’d actually begun to ask him what he meant until I remembered who he was and whose side he was on. That made me turn my back and start down the sidewalk again. I wouldn’t run away from him. Not again. But that didn’t mean I was stupid enough to stand around with a sworn enemy.

“Quit following me,” I called back, loud enough for him to hear. “We’re done.”

“No, we’re not. Not by a long shot.”

I shook my head, forcing my feet to the ground even as my knees wobbled. But that didn’t stop me from glancing back when I was inside the gate.

This time, he was gone.

I kept my head down in class, my eyes on my books, glad that Scout sat behind me. I wasn’t sure I should tell her about Sebastian—either that he had been following me, or that he’d tried to save me from Veronica.

He’d tried to intervene.

What was that about?

I mean, he was a Reaper. The sworn enemy of Adepts, the folks who thought it was okay to buy a few more years of magic with someone else’s soul.

And yet he was also the guy who’d given me the clue to using firespell and who’d stepped into a near-fight with Veronica.

Something strange was going on. I wasn’t sure what—I certainly didn’t think he was some kind of Robin Hood of magic—but whatever it was, I wasn’t ready to tell Scout.

No, this was going to need a little more time.

I hoped I had it.

10

Dinner was Tex-Mex food, which St. Sophia’s managed pretty well for a snotty private boarding school in the middle of downtown Chicago. And as a vegetarian, it was usually a favorite of mine. Tex-Mex at St. Sophia’s meant tortillas and beans and peppers and cheese, so it was usually easy to whip up something meat-free.

We had an hour after dinner before study hall for Scout and, according to Foley, art studio for me, so we headed back to our suite for some time off—and so I could get my materials together.

When we got in, Amie’s door was open, the light off. Lesley’s door was shut, cello music drifting from beneath the door. She played the cello and spent a lot of time practicing. Luckily, she was really good at it, so it was kind of like having a tiny orchestra in the room. Not a bad way to live, as it turned out.