Unbound (Unbound, Book 1) ~Formerly Casting Power~

Chapter 49

Monday was chilly, the dense gray clouds obscuring any sign of the sun's warming rays. I could taste the bitterness with each breath that I took and glared at the fun-loving students around me. How dare they be so happy? I felt like crap. It had been a long weekend and now, I was fighting a cold.

I pulled down my toque and stepped out of my car, stopping on the sidewalk to gaze at the front of the school with resentment. Maible texted me this morning to say she'd caught her brother's cold and asked if I would pick up her assignments. Right, well, thanks for sharing. Grimas felt less oppressive with her here, and I could already feel her absence as I made my lonely descent into the school.

The entire weekend had been dedicated to reading my mother's book, soaking up every detail that she'd felt was important enough to hide. I patted my bag at the thought to ensure that it was still secure, safe at the bottom of the large pocket. After reading it so much, the connection was almost tangible, and I couldn't leave it at the Manor.

I was so on edge that I'd bypassed the caffeine my body demanded in fear of being too jittery. My mother had been able to do things that nobody else could. I was worried that meant that I could, too. Never mind guessing—I knew I could. She'd told me that, and the fact that I would be more powerful than her and Devland. The depths of what she'd meant flooded me with trepidation, and I knew I had barely touched the surface. If I'd accepted my abilities before her death, perhaps I may have found the answers I was seeking now instead of fearing what was to come, alone and without guidance.

My. Life. Sucked.

Seriously, I'd even welcome Zachariah's help right now.

"Hey, Noreena!"

I pulled the collar of my jacket up, shrinking within so that the wind didn't blast me when I turned. I squinted across the parking lot and blew out a sigh of agitation as Calin approached. I wasn't sure whether his attention or the accelerated beat of my heart at seeing him irritated me more.

"Hey, wait up." He smiled, slowing his pace to match mine as I continued walking.

He was too good looking for his own good in dark jeans and a plain white t-shirt underneath a black fitted leather jacket, casually dressed in a way that looked like it would take hours to put together. I felt like a peasant in leggings and messy up-do peaking out of a dreary grey toque walking beside him. My red nose must have made me look like a Christmas cartoon and yet, he made no comment on my appearance.

I couldn't bring myself to look at him for fear that my true feelings might be evident. The last thing I wanted to do was give Duvessa extra ammunition to use against me in her vendetta. Even knowing this, my attraction towards him didn't falter. She couldn't fault me for wanting to make friends—and we were just friends.

"You look like you ate the worm." Okay, so maybe he had noticed. But did he have to verbalize it?

"What?" I stopped.

"The worm at the bottom of the bottle? Tequila? Never mind." Half his mouth lifted in humor that reached into and lit his eyes.

"Oh," I said and resumed walking. "I don't drink."

"You don't like me, do you?"

"Why would you think that?" I held my breath. I didn't not like him, which was the problem.

"You are always going out of your way to avoid me, you won't talk to me when I do catch you, and you look at me like I just kicked your family pet," he said, ticking off his fingers and staring towards the sky in mock indifference. "Why is that?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, yes, you do," he said, running ahead and then bending to make eye contact, and I had to stop mid-stride to avoid colliding with him.