The Deck of Omens (The Devouring Gray #2) - Christine Lynn Herman Page 0,13

quite meeting in the middle. Visitors would have thought it was a cross; Isaac knew better.

This town lived in fear of a very different kind of god. Something more monstrous than holy, although for the founders they had been the same thing. Power was power and people would always want it, whether it was dressed up with pretty words and careful manipulation or stripped down to teeth and claws.

“Well?” he said, a little more sharply than he intended. He was still thinking about Gabriel. But he hadn’t wanted to wait?—with the Hawthornes, he’d learned, it was best to move quickly. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I need your help.” May launched into the story of the diseased tree she’d seen and its potential link to the Gray. “We need to get rid of this problem before the rest of the town finds out about it.”

But as May continued to speak, Isaac’s own voice rang through his head, broken and hoarse, the words he’d said to Justin just a few weeks ago. I’ll do whatever you want because your happiness trumps my misery.

It had been incredibly difficult for him to confess his feelings to Justin when he knew they were unrequited. But that was the only way Isaac could think of to cut himself off.

For too long, Isaac had thought it better?—safer—to follow the Hawthornes instead of carve out his own path. He knew now that it was a toxic pattern, one that he was trying hard to break. But it wasn’t proving easy.

All Isaac had done by answering May’s text so quickly was give in to temptation. It didn’t matter that he was in the middle of handling his own problems. The instinct to push them aside for the Hawthornes was too strong to ignore.

But Isaac had his own plans now. His research with Violet. His troubles with Gabriel. All of them belonged to him, and they were his story. He would not abandon them just to protect another family?—a family that had always asked for far too much.

“I’m sorry,” he said, rising to his feet. “I’m not doing damage control for you. Not this time.”

May gaped at him. “What? But, Isaac, this could be incredibly dangerous.”

“Then your family will handle it,” he said roughly. “That’s your job, right?”

It felt good to say no. To walk away and push open the doors to the mausoleum, to squint in the afternoon sunlight as he walked across the town square toward his home. It felt like freedom.

CHAPTER FOUR

Harper’s first breath of fresh, clean forest air was a revelation. She’d been cooped up for so long in the musty interior of the Saunders manor, she’d almost forgotten what the outside world felt like. A knot in her chest loosened as the spires of the house disappeared behind the trees, orange leaves drifting from the latticework of branches above her head.

She was as ready for this as she was ever going to be. She’d chosen her outfit carefully: comfortable boots, a denim jacket with the left sleeve tied under her residual limb, and a midi-length skirt. Her sword was tucked in a scabbard at her waist. Plus, her eyeliner was perfect. All of it felt like armor.

And none of it mattered the moment she stepped onto the track behind Four Paths High School.

The asphalt below her feet was coated in dead leaves that had yet to be swept away. School was out for the day and cross-country didn’t have practice that day, but Justin Hawthorne had stuck around anyway.

Mostly, kids used the rusty bleachers beside the track for the space under them?—to gossip or hook up or smoke. Today, though, Justin sat alone, a half-drunk water bottle beside him. Strands of blond hair clung to his forehead; his posture was hunched and frustrated. It had taken them a few days to arrange this meeting; Justin was being watched now, and so was she. This was the only time they’d both been able to manage.

Harper saw him notice her, his eyes widening with something a bit like fear and a bit like hope. There was no point in saying hello. They were far beyond pleasantries.

“I know what you did to me,” she said, the words ringing out across the field. Again, she thought of his betrayal the night she’d lost her powers, grabbed that rage in her mind and held it as tightly as she could. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I never wanted you to forget.” He stood up, closed most