There Was Fire Between Us;

I Just Didn’t Realize it

Was Your Breath

This one isn’t bad—the ground just rumbles a little. But it’s enough to make me nervous. More than enough to have me sheltering in the nearest doorway, like they taught us in elementary school. No way am I interested in any more injuries…or any more close calls, for that matter.

When the aftershock finishes a few seconds later, I pull out my phone and text Jaxon. Just to let him know I’m okay—and to make sure he is. Plus, I’d like to actually have a conversation with him where neither one of us is hurt—and half the school isn’t looking on. I text him a quick, Where are you? Want to meet up? then wait impatiently for his answer.

It doesn’t come, which only makes me more nervous.

I wish I’d gotten Mekhi’s phone number this morning so I could text him, too, but I didn’t, so I’m stuck, wandering the halls and waiting for Jaxon to text me back.

Not sure what else to do, I head up the stairs toward Jaxon’s tower. But truth is, I’m not keen on showing up at his door uninvited again. He’s the one who left me in the cafeteria, and he’s the one who isn’t answering my texts. I want to see him, want to talk to him, but I’m not going to chase him anymore. This time, he needs to come to me.

Which means I probably shouldn’t head back to my room, where I’ll spend all my time obsessing over where Jaxon is and what he’s doing instead of something productive. And I’ve already spent enough of my time thinking about that boy today—probably too much, considering the way he’s currently ignoring me.

It’s that thought more than any other that has me heading down the hallway to the library as soon as I get to the second floor. I’ve been meaning to go back during regular hours so I can take my time looking around—and also maybe even find some books to check out. Apparently, I have a lot to learn about paranormal creatures, and now is as good a time as any to get started. Plus, I figure my uncle and Macy can’t complain I’m not resting if I spend the day curled up with a bunch of horror movie throw pillows and a good book.

Class is in session, so the library is almost empty when I get there. Which is more than okay with me—the fewer people I run into, the lower the chance of any more “accidents.”

I think about starting in the mythology section, seeing if there are any books on the different paranormal creatures I go to school with. It’s where I would start in a regular library, but here at Katmere, monsters are real. So would I find books about them under nonfiction? Or biology?

This whole monsters are real thing is going to take a lot of getting used to.

I decide to stop at the main desk and ask the librarian where I should start. And the truth is, I’ve been dying to meet her since I found this place the other day. Her sticker choices and gargoyle placements alone mark her as supercool in my book.

It’s an impression that is only reinforced when I actually get to see her up close.

She’s tall and beautiful, with glowing copper skin. Her long, dark hair is threaded with orange and silver tinsel—leftover from Halloween, I imagine—and she’s dressed like a total hippie, all flowing, long-sleeve boho dress and boots. Plus, she’s got a giant smile on her face as I approach, something I haven’t seen much of here at the very dark and very Gothic Katmere Academy.

“Ms. Royce?” I ask when I reach the front of the desk.

“You can call me Amka. Many of the students do.” If possible, her grin gets even friendlier. “You must be Grace, the new student all the fuss is about.”

My cheeks go warm. “That’s not quite how I would have put it, but yeah. I guess I am.”

“It’s good to meet you. I’m glad to get to know the girl shaking up the status quo around here. They could use it.”

“They?”

She chuckles and leans forward just a little. Then, in a loud, staged whisper, says, “The monsters.”

My eyes go wide at the description, and relief floods me as I think back on what my uncle said. “So you’re human, too?”

“Most of us are human, Grace. We just also happen to have a little something extra, that’s all.”

“Oh, right.” I feel like a jerk. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You didn’t.” She holds out a hand. Seconds later, a light wind blows through the library, ruffling my hair and making the magazines on the rack behind me flutter.

“Oh! You’re a witch!” I turn my face up so I can feel the breeze.

“I am. From the Inupiat tribe,” she answers. “With an affinity for the elements.”

“The elements?” I repeat, emphasizing the S. “So not just wind?”

“Not just wind,” she agrees. She closes her hand, and the wind dies down instantly. Seconds later, without so much as a flick of her fingers, the candles in all the wall sconces begin to burn. “Fire. And I’d show you water, but I’m thinking you’ve had enough snow already.”

“I really have,” I agree. “But…if you don’t mind, I’d still like to see it.”

She nods, and seconds later, snowflakes start falling from the ceiling directly above our heads.

Instinctively, I reach my tongue out and taste one. Then tell her, “That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Keep your eyes open,” she answers. “There are a lot of cool things to see at Katmere.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I say honestly. Because watching her manipulate the elements actually calms me down, convinces me that maybe things aren’t as scary as I fear.

“Good,” she says with a wink. “Now, what brings you to my library today?”

“Honestly, I just wanted to explore some more. I was in here the other day, and I fell in love with it. You’ve done an amazing job.”

“Books are fascinating and fun. I figure the rooms that house them should be as well.”

“You’ve definitely made that happen.” I turn and look behind me. “I mean, the stickers alone are incredible. I could spend all day reading them. And the gargoyles. And the horror movie pillows? I love it all.”

“I figure what’s the good of working in a place like this if I can’t have a little fun with it.”

“Exactly!” I say with a laugh. “Which is actually the second reason I’m here. I was hoping to find some books that would help me learn more about the different kinds of people who go to school here.”

She smiles at my clumsy attempt to incorporate the first lesson she taught me in my request—that most of the people here are human, just different. “I admire your open mind. And your willingness to embrace what you’ve learned.”