“We can do this later,” I tell him. “I don’t want to interrupt whatever you’re working on.”

“Don’t worry about it. This is nothing.” He closes the book before I can see much of anything and slides it away from him.

I see the language on the cover, though. “Oh, hey! Is that an Akkadian text?”

His eyes go wide. “How did you know about Akkadian?”

“Actually, I just learned about it for the first time a couple of days ago. Lia was researching it for a project. Are you guys in the same class?”

“Oh, yeah.” He seems distinctly unenthusiastic, which isn’t exactly a surprise considering how much they seem to dislike each other.

“What class is it for?” I reach for the book. “I kind of want to take it next semester, if I can.”

“Ancient Languages of Magic.” He eases the book away before I can even open it up and slides it into his backpack. “So, what are you looking to find out about dragons?”

“Anything. Everything.” I hold my hands up in an I’m clueless gesture. “This whole magical creatures are real thing is…a lot.”

“Nah. You’ll get used to it in no time.”

“That makes one of us who thinks so.”

He laughs. “Come on. Hit me with your first question.”

“Oh, I haven’t really thought of specific questions. Except…Macy says you have wings. That means you can actually fly?” My mind boggles at the thought.

“Yeah, I can fly.” He grins. “I can do other stuff, too.”

“Like what?” I lean toward him, fascinated.

“Well, jeez, if we’re going to get into all this, I feel like we need some sustenance.” He reaches for his backpack.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s all good, New Girl.” From the backpack’s front pocket he pulls out a half-eaten bag of marshmallows, then holds it out to me. “Want one? They’re my favorite snack.”

“Mine too,” I tell him as I take one. “I mean, usually in Rice Krispies treats, but I’m not complaining.”

I start to pop it in my mouth, but he stops me with a hand on my arm. “Hey, that’s no way to eat a marshmallow.”

“What do you mean?”

He just wiggles his brows. Then tosses the marshmallow up in the air and blows fire straight at it out of his mouth.

I shriek, then cover my mouth, half in shock, half in delight, as the marshmallow turns a perfect golden brown right in midair. Seconds later, Flint closes his mouth, and the treat falls directly into his hand.

He holds it out to me. “Now that’s how you eat a marshmallow.”

“You’re telling me!” I take it from him and pop it in my mouth. “Oh my God, it’s hot!” I say around the gooey goodness.

He gives me a look that says, No shit, Sherlock.

“And it’s perfectly roasted!” I can’t believe how cool this is.

“Course it is. I’ve been doing this a long time.” He holds the bag out to me. “Want another one?”

“Are you kidding? I want them all. All the marshmallows, all the time.”

He grins. “My kind of woman.”

“Can I throw it?” I pick out another one.

“I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”

I giggle as I toss the marshmallow up in the air. And this time I scream only a little as Flint shoots a stream of fire straight at it.

When it’s done, he closes his mouth and the marshmallow falls straight back into my hand. It’s hot—really hot—so I juggle it between my hands for a second, waiting for it to cool down. Then I hold it out to him. “This one’s yours.”

He looks surprised as he glances between the marshmallow and me. Then he says, “Hey, thanks,” and pops it in his mouth.

We roast the rest of the bag, one after the other—sometimes two or three at a time—and Flint cracks jokes during the whole thing. When the marshmallows finally run out, my stomach is killing me—partly because I’ve been laughing so hard and partly because I just ate a shit ton of marshmallows. Either way, it’s a good hurt, unlike so many other things at this place, so I’ll take it.

I’m also thirsty af from all the sugar, and I reach for the water bottle Amka gave me. As I do, I can’t help wondering if she gave it to me because she knew I was going to need it. Is foresight a thing with witches? Just one more thing I need to research.

I start to open the bottle, but Flint snatches it out of my hand before I can even break the seal. “Drinking warm water is such a plebian thing to do,” he teases. Right before he opens his mouth and blows a stream of freezing cold air straight at the water.

Seconds later, he hands me an ice-cold bottle with another waggle of his brows.

“Wow. Just…wow.” I shake my head in excitement. “Is there anything else you can do?”

“What? Flying, fire, and ice aren’t enough?”

“Yes! I mean, of course they are.” I feel like a total jerk. “I’m sorry. I was just—”

“Chill, I’m just messing with you.” He holds out a hand, much like Amka did when she was calling up the wind. Except Flint isn’t about anything as boring as wind.

I watch in astonishment as a cluster of pale-blue flowers blooms on his hand. “Oh my God,” I whisper as I start to smell their subtle fragrance. “Oh my God. How did you do that?”

He shrugs. “I’m one of the lucky ones.” He holds it out to me, and I reach forward, stroke a gentle finger over one of the flower’s delicate petals. It feels like silk.

“These are called forget-me-nots. They’re Alaska’s state flower.”

“They’re beautiful.” I shake my head.

“You’re beautiful,” he answers. And then he leans forward and weaves the stem of flowers into my curls, right above my left ear.

My stomach bottoms out as his lips come within an inch of mine. Oh, God. Oh no!

Instinct has me jerking back in my chair, eyes wide and breath coming way too fast.

But Flint just laughs. “Don’t worry, New Girl. I wasn’t hitting on you.”

Oh, thank God. I nearly sag in relief. “I didn’t think— I was— I just—”

“Oh, Grace.” Flint half laughs, half shakes his head. “You’re something else. You know that?”

“Me? You’re the one who can shoot fire and ice and create flowers out of thin air.”

“Good point.” He inclines his head, watching me with those molten amber eyes of his. “But I’ll make you a promise right now, okay?”

“Okay?”

“When I hit on you, it’ll be because you want me to. And we’ll both know exactly what’s going on when I do.”

46

I’ll Get You

and Your

Little Dog, Too

I have no idea what to say to Flint’s promise, which is probably a good thing, considering my throat is suddenly desert dry and I can’t speak anyway.

Not because I want Flint to hit on me—I don’t. And not because I’m offended by his words, because I’m not. But because when I look into his laughing amber eyes, when I see his infectious smile, I can imagine that if Jaxon wasn’t around, I would totally welcome any move this dragon chose to make.

But Jaxon is around, and sitting here with Flint just got a million times more awkward.

I take a long sip of water to wet my throat…and to stall as I try to figure out what to say to defuse the situation. But before I can come up with anything, Flint’s phone buzzes with a series of texts messages.

He picks up the phone, glances at the messages. And his entire demeanor changes. “Something’s going down.”

Immediately, I think of Jaxon. “What is it? What’s happening?”

Flint doesn’t answer, just scoops up his backpack and starts shoving things inside it. As he does, the note Amka sent him falls open and I can’t help but read it:

“There are a thousand ways to get somewhere, but not all ways are the correct one.”

I don’t have time to wonder about what it means because Flint scoops it up and then barks, “Come on, let’s go.”

I grab my purse and follow him, dread pooling in my stomach as I try to figure out what could possibly make him react like this. “What’s going on?” I ask again.

“I don’t know yet. But the Order is on the move.”

“On the move? What does that mean?” I’m all but running in an effort to keep up with Flint’s long-legged strides.

“It means there’s going to be trouble.” He bites the words out like they taste bad.

Not that I blame him. God knows, I’ve had more than enough of that in the last few days to last me a lifetime. “What kind of trouble?” I’m right behind him when he pushes the library doors open and starts booking it down the hall.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

I fumble my phone out of my pocket, determined to get an answer out of Jaxon. But by the time we get to the main passing area near the stairs, I don’t have to. Because one level up is the Order, walking in grim, single-file silence.

They’re moving fast, and though their backs are toward us, I can tell Flint is right. There’s a problem—a big one. It’s in their squared-off shoulders and the tenseness that runs through each and every one of them like a live wire.

I call to Jaxon, but he’s either ignoring me or he doesn’t hear me. Either way, it’s another bad sign, considering he usually knows exactly what’s happening around him at all times.

Just the thought that he’s in some kind of trouble has me rushing on the stairs right after Flint, determined to catch up with them before something terrible happens.

But Jaxon is moving swiftly, too, and we end up chasing him down one hall, past the physics lab and several classrooms. He pauses for a second at the door of a room I haven’t been in yet—I think it’s one of the student lounges—and I call his name again. I’m all the way at the other end of the long hall, so I’m not surprised he doesn’t hear me.