My help came with conditions. And if she wanted it, well, she’d have to earn it.

I wasn’t to be messed with again.

So by lunch, when Haven and her minions stroll out of class only to find their table occupied by me, Damen, Miles, and Stacia—well, they’re not quite sure what to make of it.

And it’s pretty clear that Haven’s not quite sure what to make ofme .

But then, neither is Honor, for that matter.

They just sort of stand there, loitering awkwardly, gawking in disbelief as Craig and his friends slowly move toward us, gratefully taking the seat Damen just offered. Acknowledging the gesture with a “Hey”

and a nod, which may seem simple on the surface but is definitely something they never would’ve bothered with before.

And while Haven continues to stand there, hands shaking in fury, eyes narrowed and red, I pretend not to notice. Looking right past the storm cloud of hate that emanates from her when I say, “You’re welcome to join us if you want, as long as you behave yourself, that is.”

She rolls her eyes, mumbles a slew of obscenities under her breath, and starts to turn away. Fully expecting her flock of minions to follow, but her power over them is no longer what it once was. It’s waning. And to be honest, it’s pretty clear that they’re all getting a little sick of her. So when they accept Damen’s offer to join us instead, she turns to Honor, eyes blazing, virtually daring her to choose.

And just when Honor starts to turn away from us and move toward Haven, Stacia jumps up from her seat and says, “Honor, wait—I’m—I’m really sorry!”

The words sounding so shrill, so uncomfortable, so foreign coming from her that Miles instantly bursts out laughing, and I have to squeeze his knee—hard—to get him to stop.

Stacia looks at me, eyes narrowed, brows merged, as if to say:See, I tried, but it doesn’t work!

But I just nod toward Honor, seeing the way she’s stopped, the way she’s turned, her head tilted, gaze full of questions, wavering between two supposed best friends, neither of whom she particularly likes.

Hesitating for so long that Haven storms off in a huff. And even though I’m tempted to go after her, tempted to try to calm her, find a way to help her or at least talk some sense into her, I don’t. Maybe later I will, but not now. For now I’ve got to see this thing through.

I nudge Stacia, nudge her with my eyes, with my mind, shoving my energy up against hers, urging her to keep going, to not stop now, even though the territory may seem scary and unfamiliar.

And a moment later, they’re gone.

Walking side by side, Honor shouting, hurling the long list of accusations, all the very good reasons why Staciashould apologize, while Stacia patiently listens, just like I coached her to do.

“Are you eavesdropping?” Miles says, elbowing me and pointing toward them.

“Should I?” I look at him.

“Well,yeah .” He squints. “I mean, what if it’s not what you think? What if they’re both plotting against you?”

But I just smile, watching Stacia’s aura shift and change, becoming just a bit more vibrant with each passing step. Knowing she still has a long way to go, that she may never really arrive, but still secure in the knowledge that auras never lie. And hers is off to a semi-decent start.

Taking a sip of my elixir and looking at Miles when I say, “Trust works both ways. Aren’t you the one who told me that?”

Chapter 31

Even though it shows all the signs of turning into an insanely uncomfortable situation, Damen still insists on going to Mystics and Moonbeams. And this time, just before we climb out of my car and head in, I’m the one who questions him on whether or not he truly wants to go through with it.

But he just looks at me and says, “Ever, for four hundred years we’ve been circling each other. Don’t you think it’s finally time to call for a cease-fire?”

I nod, not doubting for a minute that it is indeed time, though I’m not at all sure that Jude will agree. It’s a lot easier to be logical and reasonable about these things when you’re the one on the winning team.

He holds the door open as I make my way in. Spotting a few familiar customers milling about—the woman who collects angel figurines, the guy who’s always bugging us to get an aura video station, even though from what I’ve seen of his, he’s bound to be disappointed by the results, and the older woman with the beautiful purple glow all around her who Ava’s currently assisting with the meditation CDs—while Jude sits behind the counter, taking small sips of coffee. His aura flaring the moment he sees us—especially Damen—though it’s not long before it settles and calms, and I sigh in relief. Knowing it was just the result of an age-old, knee-jerk reaction, the kind that may require some time to phase out, but someday, if Damen has his way, it will.

He moves ahead of me, eager to get this thing started. Making straight for the counter with a ready smile and a softly spoken “Hey,” as Jude takes another sip of his coffee and merely nods in reply. His gaze dancing between us, apprehensive and unsure, and I really hope he doesn’t think we came here to gloat.

“I was wondering if we could maybe talk.” Damen motions toward the back. “Somewhere private, perhaps?”

Jude hesitates for a moment, taking a series of slow contemplative sips, before tossing his cup and leading us into his office. Settling himself behind the old wood desk, while Damen and I claim the two seats on the opposite side.