And Elizabeth Pike looked like the kind of someone he’d pick. She was beautiful—not the shallow kind of beautiful most people could buy with stylish clothes and good makeup, but the kind that shone from her even with a bare face and a plain cotton dress. The same fluorescent classroom lights that made everyone else look like zombies made her perfect skin peachy, and her reddish-brown curls shone as if she were in a shampoo commercial. She and Mateo had a lab table together, and she was superattentive to him—watching him almost every moment, sitting in the desk next to his. It was pretty obvious what was going on.

While Mateo never looked over at her, Elizabeth did once. Her blue eyes met Nadia’s steadily. There were no “stay away from my boyfriend” vibes there; she just seemed interested in the new girl. Maybe Mateo told her about the wreck.

And he hadn’t said anything to make Elizabeth jealous. So, okay. Nadia figured at least she knew where she stood.

The mystery of how Mateo seemed to know her would have to remain unsolved. Probably that was something I dreamed up because I was stunned in the wreck, she decided. Something like that.

Her heart told her that wasn’t all there was to it—but her heart told her lots of stupid things these days. Things like Mom will call soon, or You’ll find another teacher in the Craft somehow. She didn’t need to add Mateo will leave his gorgeous girlfriend for you to the list.

Besides, there was that feeling again—that static-electricity feeling that told her magical power was near, very near....

Nadia found herself glancing down at the floor of the chemistry lab, as though she would be able to literally see that force for herself. Which was ridiculous—magic didn’t glow green or anything like that, not unless you were a Steadfast, which she wasn’t. And yet the force was so near—so vivid—

—as though it were directly beneath her feet.

Under the floor of the chemistry lab? Come on. You’re so freaked out about not having a teacher any longer that you’re … making up stuff. Trying to create a crisis where there isn’t one, so you’ll have something to tell Mom that would make her come back.

And yet she felt it. Whatever this odd power was simmering beneath the surface—Nadia couldn’t ignore it. Couldn’t wish it away.

After school, Mateo parked his motorcycle at the bottom of the hill … the Hill, always capitalized by people who lived in Captive’s Sound. This was where the wealthy and privileged lived, in great houses with iron gates. At the very top of the Hill, shining white as though it were made of marble, was Cabot House.

Yours, someday, his father would always say, like that was a good thing. But Mateo found Cabot House creepy as hell and tried to visit as little as possible.

That suited his grandmother fine, most of the time. Mateo wondered if another guest had crossed the threshold of that house anytime in the past five years. Maybe not since Mom’s funeral, and even then, people came more to gawk than to sympathize. Not once had he ever dropped by unannounced.