me just a little as he responds. “Thank you for understanding my side of this mess, too. I promise, we’ll get him out of your head as soon as we possibly can.”
“Sooner than that would be better,” I joke, and it works. Jaxon laughs.
He holds me for several seconds longer, until we can see Flint and Macy entering the practice field with two other people I don’t know.
Jaxon drops another kiss on my neck before pulling reluctantly away. But just before he lets me go, he leans down and whispers, “Does he really know what underwear you’re wearing?”
“Black with white polka dots,” Hudson answers without looking up from his book.
I sigh. “He really does.”
Jaxon looks disgruntled, but he doesn’t say anything, thankfully.
Hudson, however, has no such qualms. “You should wear the red ones with the white flowers tomorrow, though. They’re my favorite.”
Before I can think of a comeback to that, Flint sneaks up behind me and grabs me in a giant bear hug. And as he swings me around—chanting “Grace, Grace, Baby” much to my chagrin—I can’t help but notice that Jaxon is showing a lot more fang than he usually does.
Then again, so is Hudson…
Forget YA novel, I’m living in the middle of a paranormal telenovela, and what happens next is anyone’s guess…
Fuck. My. Life.
61
The Monster Mash-Up
“You ready to show these guys how it’s done, Grace?” Flint asks when he finally drops me back on my feet.
“How what’s done?” I ask, surreptitiously checking to make sure all my clothes are in all the right places. Flint is a very enthusiastic hugger.
“How to fly, baby!” He throws his arms out and does a really bad impression of wings and flying as he zips around me like a three-year-old pretending to be an airplane—cute, sweet, and absolutely ridiculous.
“I’m ready for you to show them how it’s done,” I tell him.
“No way! We’re in this together. Well, you, me, and Eden.” He turns to the girl behind him with a grin and beckons her forward.
She gives him a look when he waves, like there’s no way she’s going to give him the satisfaction of responding to such a plebian method of communication. But after making him wait just long enough that everyone knows she’s moving only because she wants to, she swaggers toward us, all glorious hair and “don’t mess with me” attitude.
“This is Eden Seong,” Flint tells me when she finally reaches us. “She’s one of my closest friends and also happens to be fire with a Ludares ball.”
“And everything else,” she drawls, and somehow even her voice is cool.
I can’t believe I haven’t noticed her around school before, because she’s totally not the type to blend in. She’s tall like Macy, with straight black hair that falls all the way to her butt and thick, severely cut bangs that hit below her eyebrows to the very tops of her purple eyes. I look closer, sure that they’re just really blue, but nope. They’re totally purple and the coolest eyes I’ve ever seen.
She’s dressed completely in white—white workout pants, white tennis shoes, and white tank top that shows off a wild Korean dragon tattoo that stretches across her shoulders and down both her arms. So she’s a dragon like Flint then. Badass.
She’s got multiple piercings—several in her ears, plus her nose and her eyebrow—and each piercing is adorned with a glittering gemstone in a different color. She’s also wearing close to a dozen flashy jeweled rings on her fingers, but instead of being overkill, it all just kind of works together to make her sparkle even more.
Not going to lie, I love her already, even before she thrusts out a hand to shake mine and says, “Being a gargoyle is the most kick-ass thing I have ever heard of. Good job.”
I laugh. “It’s not like I had a choice in the matter.”
She shrugs. “No one actually gets a choice of what they are at the molecular level, Grace. It’s what you do with it that matters, and so far everything you’ve done is pretty badass.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I do. And you should listen to me. Everybody does.”
Again, she should come off as completely arrogant, but instead it just kind of screams of charming and total rock star. No wonder Flint adores her.
“It’s true,” Flint tells me as he drapes an arm around her shoulders and squeezes tight enough to make Eden glare at him. “She gives the best advice.”
Eden shoots him a “why are you touching me” look, which