Chapter 4

Four

My whole, "I'm not going to give Talon a second thought," thing has not been working out for me. Since the day he visited the store he's carved out a small space for himself in my mind that is starting to feel permanent. But in fairness, it's mostly because I can't get Shadow Striker out of my head.

I believe most of the Ancients are harmless myths at best, and completely fabricated stories to keep creatures in line at worst. But even so, for the rest of the weekend I can't stop myself from circling back to the idea that there could be an object in existence that gives powers. It would be no surprise to anyone that a magicless creature like me would be intrigued by that concept, but the fact that I can't seem to let it go disturbs me a little.

When my parents and I sat down for dinner the evening Talon dropped by our shop, I mentioned Shadow Striker to them, but they wore puzzled expressions. My mother, who's more familiar with the Ancients than my father, said it sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't provide me with any details. I explained to them that a potential customer had stopped by looking for the artifact and gave them the description Talon provided me of the weapon. They said they'd put in some inquiries with antique dealers they frequently worked with, and that was the end of that conversation.

That should have been enough for me, but it wasn't.

After tossing and turning in bed for several hours that night, I finally gave up on sleep and took to the internet for information. One would think a story about a Vampire King trying to take over the world would be one of the more popular Ancients, but it was just the opposite. My parents' lack of knowledge of the tale, and hours of searching the internet and coming up practically empty, proved that point. By the time the sun crested the horizon the next morning, all I had to show for my sleepless night was bits and pieces of the story Talon already told me, which only piqued my interest more and made me wonder just how he knew it in its entirety when the Ancient was so obscure.

I spent a good chunk of Sunday sourcing books from our collection that could potentially have some information on the tale, and then poring over them late into the night. I told myself this new obsession was just because I wanted to assuage my own curiosity, but deep inside I knew it was more than that. Talon might have played it off like he didn't really believe the Ancients, but I could tell he did. And his belief that there was at least a kernel of truth in the story of Shadow Striker created a spark inside me as well.

What if there was something out there that could give me magic, could make me powerful? My life would change in so many ways.

Hours of research on Sunday only led to one possible and very shaky lead. In a copy of The Ancients as History , I uncovered a vague reference to some of the Ancients having been sealed away and struck from history because their tale, and the knowledge it provided, was considered too dangerous to pass along. The books from our collection were old enough to be considered collector's editions, but if it were true that some Ancients were purposefully concealed, then perhaps the tale of Shadow Striker and the Vampire King were part of that purge. Frustrated and unfulfilled I'd flopped into bed only a few hours before I'd have to get up again, dreading the next day.

When I wake on Monday morning, bleary-eyed and foggy, I trudge through my morning classes with my head down, looking forward to lunch when I can meet up with Ensley and maybe even Becks.

Becks is popular, so he doesn't always sit with us at lunch. His status as the dragon heir gives him a lot of clout at this school, but it's more than that. Becks is the kind of creature who others are attracted to without even knowing why. And it goes beyond his good looks. He has natural charisma that can't be taught.

Honestly, my friendship with Becks is probably the only reason I'm not bullied on the regular. There are only a small handful of classmates like Jules who take the time to try to beat me down. Usually I'm just ignored, which works out fine for me. I walk through the halls invisible to most of the students at Nightlark Academy. Of course, I'm not actually invisible. If I had the power to render myself unseen that might be cool, but the truth is the other students see me, they just pretend they don't. Perhaps some of them have been pretending for so long I have disappeared to them. Their minds completely dismiss me the moment I enter their field of vision.

It's hard at times, but if my choices are to be invisible or bullied, I suppose I'm glad it's the former.

I slide into my usual seat at the round table in the corner, keeping my back to the walls so I face out toward the rest of the space. Students eat lunch in the covered interior central courtyard in the middle of the main castle structure. The courtyard used to be open-air but was glassed in at some point. Despite how busy it always is, it's my favorite place in Nightlark Academy. The ground is worn gray cobblestones, and there's a smattering of fruit trees that circle a working fountain in the middle of the space. The four walls that enclose the courtyard have some of the most intricate stonework of anywhere in the building, telling me this must have been a special place for the original owner as well or he wouldn't have bothered making it so ornate. The courtyard is the most social space in the school, and although I'm never part of any of the drama, I still like being able to watch it.

I'm only starting to unpack my lunch when Ensley plops down next to me, her tray loaded with fresh fruits, vegetables, and nuts. She scowls at my chicken sandwich but doesn't say anything. She's a hardcore vegetarian—most fae are—and even though she's given up the fight to get me to stop eating meat, she still turns her nose up at my dietary choices.

Becks sits down next to her a few seconds later with a double cheeseburger and meatball sub on his tray.

"Hey, Locklyn," he says with a nod. "How was your weekend?"

"Boring," I say, but when I glance over at him I immediately know something is wrong. He's smiling, but it doesn't reach his eyes. I know him well enough to recognize when he's stressed.

"Seriously, Becks?" Eyeing his tray with disgust, Ensley gets up and moves to the empty seat on the other side of me. "Yuck," she says, and then pinches her nose. "I can still smell that minced flesh from here."

Becks laughs and picks up his sub. "This school is filled with meat eaters. I'm sure it's not just my food you're smelling." He takes a big bite and chews.

"You know you don't actually need to eat a living being in order to live. You can get all the nutrients you need from other foods—foods that don't require murdering something."

Becks finishes his bite and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Come on, Ensley. I'm a natural predator. They'd take away my dragon card if I stopped eating meat."

Ensley rolls her eyes. "Or you could stand up for something and actually change something about our world."

I know Becks has zero motivation to change what he eats. This isn't the first argument he and Ensley have gotten into about it. I'm pretty sure he secretly chooses to eat hamburgers and steaks in front of her just to set her off.

Becks shrugs. "Dad got over it for Mom," he reminds her, which only makes her madder.

I let my gaze drift over the courtyard as Becks and Ensley continue to argue over his lunch.

A group of fae are using their magic to make oranges grow from one of the fruit trees in the center of the rectangular space. A small food fight has broken out at a table to the left, and I catch Ms. Teller, my literary teacher, making a beeline across the courtyard to stop them. I smile, thinking of the food fight the shifters started last week. It ended when a couple of otter shifters accidentally doused a vampire at the table next to them with a cupful of red soda.

As I continue to scan, I catch Talon sitting on a table on the opposite side of the courtyard, his butt on the wood surface and his feet planted on a chair instead of the floor. There's a ring of admirers around him. Mostly female.

The smile slips from my face.

I can't believe I thought for even a second that it would be hard for him to adjust to a new school.

"So what are we thinking now?" Ensley asks as she follows my line of sight over to Talon and his groupies. I hadn't even noticed they'd stopped arguing. "Dragon shifter?"

Becks glances over at Talon and then shakes his head. "He wasn't at the council meeting with his uncle on Friday. If Talon was a dragon shifter, he would have been there."

Just because his uncle is a dragon shifter doesn't mean he is as well. It's not uncommon for creatures to marry outside their species or sub-species—my parents are a prime example of that, as are Becks' and Ensley's—and when that happens their biological children only inherit one of the creature traits. Or in my case, neither. It's rare, but occasionally a recessive gene from an ancestor flares and the child turns out to be a completely different species than even both parents. So if one of Talon's parents isn't a dragon shifter, he could be a different type of shifter, or even a fae or vampire.

I narrow my eyes at Talon as he throws his head back and laughs at something Vesper says, their interaction making me even more annoyed that I couldn't keep him out of my thoughts all weekend. Not to mention I feel silly for handing my phone over to him so easily. I played into his hands as willingly as Vesper is right now, and having anything in common with that vapid vampire makes me feel a certain type of way.

"I'm sticking with snake shifter until proven otherwise."

I noticed later in the weekend that Talon put himself in my phone as, Not-A-Snake-Shifter-Talon. I thought it was kind of funny at the time, but now it just irritates me. I need to get off the subject of Talon. Between his visit and my unnerving obsession over Shadow Striker, I've already wasted enough brain space on him.

"How was the council meeting, by the way?" I ask Becks, more to change the subject than anything else. Only dragon shifters are allowed to attend their meetings, but from what Becks has told us about their weekly gatherings, they sound incredibly boring.

A dark shadow seems to cross Becks' face. "Fine," he says, but he won't meet my gaze.

I open my mouth to question him about it when a sheet of lime green paper is slapped on the table in front of us and I jerk.

"What do you think, Becks?" Leo says as he grins down at us. "You gonna step up and show everyone at this school why you're such a big deal?"

I lift my lip in a silent snarl and lean away from Leo. He falls into the small minority of students who choose to bully me rather than ignore me. I hate him. As far as I'm concerned, the only thing he's good for is reminding me why I'm thankful I'm invisible to most of the kids in our school.

Becks barely looks at the green sheet of paper. "What are you talking about?" he asks, shooting Leo a glare the hyena shifter is ignorant to. No one would ever accuse Leo of being the sharpest.

I lean forward to see the paper. There's not much on the sheet besides printed blood splatters with a series of numbers that look like they could be coordinates, and what might be an emblem or insignia—a circle divided into four sections with a smaller ring in the middle and a cross going through the central ring. Each of the sections has a symbol in it, but I don't care enough to study it.

"What, you haven't heard?" Leo says in mock surprise. "The word is Chaos is starting up in a week. The prize is supposed to be something of epic proportions. There are whispers it's like nothing anyone has ever seen before. Nothing mundane like cash or a new ride. Something really valuable. Something powerful."

Ensley barks out a short laugh. "Chaos. Are you serious? Do you think that story is going to trick anyone into attending one of your lame parties?"

Leo shoots her a nasty look. "This isn't my party."

"Yet you're passing out flyers you made. Sure seems like it's your party."

"No," Leo says again, getting angry. "Someone sent these to me. They're paying me a hundred bucks to pass them out."

"Who?" Ensley presses.

"No one knows who runs Chaos," Leo says, shooting Ensley another glare before turning back to Becks.

"Chaos is nothing more than an urban legend," Becks scoffs, and then digs back into his food, a clear verbal sign he's done talking with Leo. Unsurprisingly, Leo doesn't pick up on the hint and instead pulls out a chair next to Becks and plops down into it.

"It's not a legend. It's real," Leo says defensively. "My second cousin swears he was a competitor in the last one. That's how he lost his eye."

Every student at Nightlark Academy, former and current, has heard about Chaos. It's some sort of underground competition that happens every ten or fifteen years or so. No one knows who the organizers are, but the prizes are always said to be life-changing. And they'd have to be, because the trials themselves, a series of five events, are dangerous enough to take a life. The rumor is that during the last Chaos two of the competitors failed to escape one of the trials and died, and then their deaths were covered up as a double suicide. But the thing is, Chaos has always just been a rumor, no more than an unsubstantiated legend passed down over the years.

Becks snorts. "Vanguard lost his eye in Mr. Smalls' shop class six years ago."

Leo's face starts to redden in anger.

"You're just scared you won't be able to win," he accuses Becks, who doesn't even dignify that with a response.

When it's clear Becks isn't going to engage with him, Leo turns on me.

"How about you, gimps," he says, smirking. "It might be entertaining watching you get smashed during one of the trials. At least that way you'll be good for something."

I clench my fists under the table, but as humiliating as it is, Leo isn't wrong. If Chaos were real, I probably wouldn't last a single event. As a magicless creature, the only chance I'd stand would be having a good chance I'd get myself killed participating in the events that are specifically supposed to test the strength of your powers.

Ensley chucks a tomato at Leo. It hits him in the chest, splattering over his orange t-shirt.

"Hey," he says as he flicks wet seeds off him.

"Get out of here," Ensley says. "No one at this table wants to be in your space."

Becks tries to hand the flyer back to Leo, but he won't take it.

"Keep it," Leo says. "You might change your mind."

Rolling his eyes, Becks crumples the flyer. With a twist of his wrist he sends a spark at the balled-up paper, and it goes up in flames, not even so much as singeing his skin because as a dragon shifter he's fireproof.

"Whatever," Leo says, shoving out of his chair. "You'll see this is the real deal and wish you'd taken me seriously."

"How about you hold your breath waiting for that," Ensley suggests with a smirk.

Leo flips her the bird and then ambles off to the next table. He slaps another ominous flyer down, but they look more receptive to Leo's bull than we were.

Ensley surprises me when she says, "You don't think it could actually be happening, do you?"

I look over at her, my eyebrows hiked. She's one of the most cynical creatures I know. Out of the three of us she's the last I would expect to take this seriously.

"Naw," Becks says. "I don't think it's true. He's just trying to get classmates to come to some party he's throwing."

Truth be told, I'm a little surprised Becks isn't taking it more seriously. If Chaos were real, he'd probably be able to win the whole thing.

"If it were true, would you enter?" I ask, curious.

Becks chuckles, but the sound is brittle. "You think I'd be allowed to participate in something like that? The house owns me now. I can't do anything without the council's approval."

Ensley and I exchange a look. He's never spoken out about the House of Dragon like that before. And even if his words weren't inflammatory, there's no missing the bitterness in his voice. Something is definitely up with him. Something happened at that meeting, and I want to know what, but I also want to respect Becks' privacy. I expect he'll tell me when he's ready. There are very few secrets between the three of us.

"Freckles, I was disappointed I didn't hear from you. I did nothing else this weekend but sit by my phone and wait for you to call me." Talon's voice runs over my skin like hot coals, searing everywhere it touches.

I glance over to find him standing directly over my shoulder. I didn't hear him approach, which is unnerving because part of me is always watching my back.

Talon grabs an empty chair from the table next to us, spins it around, and then wedges it between me and Becks. His eyes never leave my face as he sits down, his legs wide on either side of the chair as he rests his arms on the back and encroaches on my space.

I can feel Ensley's gaze on me. Becks scowls from the other side of Talon as he scooches his chair away to reclaim his own space.

If I were to glance up and scan the courtyard, I'd bet I'd find a good number of the students staring at us. Becks, who's as charismatic as he is attractive and powerful, has always drawn attention. It's clear Talon has a similar effect. Having both of their attention right now isn't going to do me any favors later. Some of the girls are going to be threatened by that and want to take me down a few pegs. I'm going to have to be on guard for the rest of the day.

Fantastic .

"Yeah, Locklyn," Ensley says as she elbows me in the side. My face heats as I realize they were all waiting for me to say something. "Why didn't you call our new friend, Talon?" Her voice is heavy with sarcasm, and I know I'm going to get it from her the moment he leaves.

I didn't tell her or Becks about Talon's visit to the shop this weekend. I considered it but didn't want to deal with any questions about it from either of them. But now I wish I had because Talon makes it sound like it was something that it wasn't.

"I have a very hard time believing that was the only thing you did this weekend," I say, letting my gaze purposefully shift to where Vesper is standing, glaring at us from the other side of the courtyard.

"Oh, but it was," he says, sounding nothing but sincere. "Nothing would have made me happier than to hear your sweet voice on the other end of the line."

Ensley digs her elbow into my side again, prompting me to respond.

"I'm sure." I give myself credit for containing an eye roll.

Talon leans in, his voice becoming intimate, and my body heats involuntarily. "You broke my heart a little when you didn't call me."

Ensley starts choking, and Becks releases a low growl; the smell of smoke tickles my nose. A telltale sign he's pissed off.

A hint of a smile appears on Talon's face, letting me know he enjoys stirring the pot.

Okay, enough of this. Becks' scowl is starting to look murderous, and I'm going to have bruises peppered along my ribs from Ensley digging her elbow into me every time Talon opens his mouth.

I lean away from Talon, putting some respectable distance between the two of us. This seems to please Becks because the smoke clears. Ensley, on the other hand, continues to nudge me closer to the dark-haired troublemaker.

"My parents said they'd put out some feelers for the artifact you came into the store looking for. I gave them your number so they can get in touch with you if they find anything," I say, letting my friends know that Talon is full of it and that the only reason he wanted me to call is about an antique he's searching for, and simultaneously letting Talon know that any further information about the whereabouts of Shadow Striker won't be coming from me.

"He came into the store?" Becks asks, looking a million times more relaxed than he did a minute ago.

"Yeah," I answer, before Talon can open his mouth and spin it to sound more salacious than it actually was. "He's looking for a particular artifact. A present for his father, I believe."

"What are you looking for?" Becks asks.

"Something incredibly rare," Talon says, his gaze still on me. The intensity in the gray-blue depths makes me want to squirm in my chair, but I keep myself in check. Something tells me that letting Talon know he's affecting me would be a bad idea.

"There are lots of places to look for antiques around Everton," Becks says.

"I know. But I think Freckles here might have exactly what I'm looking for."

The scent of smoke permeates the air again.

Talon is specifically baiting Becks. I don't know why, but it's starting to piss me off.

"I don't have anything you're looking for," I say, adding a touch of ice to my words.

"Don't be so sure of that," Talon challenges, leaning forward to recapture some of the space I'd put between us. "You have more to offer than anyone realizes."

Talon hasn't looked away from me since he sat down, and it suddenly doesn't feel like we're talking about looking for Shadow Striker anymore.

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. I've barely touched my food, but I'm not hungry anymore.

Someone calls Talon's name, and he raises a hand in their direction, signaling he heard them without breaking eye contact with me.

Chairs scrape against the stone floor and trays clank as students stack them by the door on the way to their next class, but I can't seem to look away from Talon, at least not until a hand lands on my bicep. When I glance up, Becks is standing next to me. His hand is warm on my arm, and my insides go melty.

"Come on, Locklyn. I'll walk you to class."

I smile up at him, thankful for the rescue even though I'm confused about why I even needed it.

"See ya around, Freckles," Talon says. I'm no longer looking at him; my eyes are on Becks. But I hear him push out of his chair and walk away.

No one bothers us as Becks and I walk to my next class, but it's hard to ignore the stares and whispers. Ensley has class on the other side of campus or I'm sure she'd be in my ear right now, asking me all about what went down when Talon came into the shop this weekend, wanting to know if I learned anything interesting about him. But I don't want to talk about Talon, so I was relieved she didn't have time to give me the third degree. The look she shot me before heading in the opposite direction let me know I'd only bought myself some time, not escaped her inquisition altogether.

"You headed to Peet's Gym after classes today?" Becks asks, avoiding the topic of Talon as well.

"Probably. My parents don't need my help at the shop, and I don't have much homework. I could use a quick workout." To work off some of this extra energy , I think, but don't say.

I feel weird and a bit jittery after the lunch interaction with Talon. Like I have a bunch of extra emotions I don't want or need. Perhaps I can shake them off by pummeling a bag with my hands and feet. It's worked in the past.

"Cool. I might come with," Becks says just as we arrive at my class.

I glance at his biceps as they strain against the confines of his t-shirt. Those muscles aren't just for show. I know, because sometimes he comes with me to the gym to spar or work out on his own. He's a beast in and out of the ring. And I'm not even talking about his dragon form.

I let my gaze drift down his arm and over the bit of his tattoo that peeks out from under his sleeve. In my mind's eye I can see the entirety of the ferocious inked dragon that wraps around his bicep and curls onto his shoulder, but in a t-shirt only flashes of its hind legs and tail are visible. He got the tattoo last year after he was named dragon heir. I remember how my stomach flipped the first time he showed it to me. The ink gave him a bit of an edge that only heightened his appeal. I was surprised though because he'd never shown interest in being inked. When I asked him why he got it he said that he needed a permanent reminder of how his life had changed.

I drag my focus from his tattoo down to his hands. He's amazing with his fists. As I stare at his hands like a weirdo, my mind drifts to what else they are good for, and I flush.

"You okay?" Becks asks. "You're turning red."

Kill me now .

I swallow, wetting my suddenly dry throat. "Yeah, sorry. I just remembered I have a quiz in Creature History today I forgot to study for."

That answer doesn't explain my sudden redness at all, but Becks nods like it does. "Sucks."

"Yeah." And it does. I really do have a quiz I forgot to study for in my search for Shadow Striker information this weekend. So unless the questions are about obscure Ancients that no one seems to know about, I really am screwed.

"Hey, Becks, did you transfer into our class?" Sutton, a cute blonde fae with a pixie cut asks as she chews on a piece of gum. The look in her eyes is nothing short of hopeful.

An easy smile lifts the corners of her mouth when he glances over at her. A frown pulls at my features from losing his attention. I don't have anything personal against Sutton. She's never been overly aggressive toward me. We've probably never said more than a handful of words to each other. She's definitely part of the student population that ignores my existence, and so that makes her A-okay in my book, but just the way Becks smiles down on her now instead of me makes me prickle.

"Hey, Sutton. Naw, I was just keeping my bud, Locklyn, company on the way to her class. I'd better head out before I'm late to my next class."

"Oh," she says, her pretty face falling and her lower lip jutting out in a small pout.

"See ya," he says to her, and then holds his fist out for me to tap, our usual goodbye gesture.

I hold back a sigh. I'm so far in the friend zone I can't even see the end of it.

After I tap his fist, he turns and walks down the hall toward his class on the other side of the building. I stay outside the classroom, watching him leave, a forlorn ache in my chest.

The moment after Becks rounds the corner, I'm hit in the back of the head with what is probably a crumpled piece of paper.

I sigh. The reprieve Becks offered was nice, but it's over.