People are clapping, so I do the same. I missed the end of the speech, of our welcome, but it doesn’t really matter.
Mrs. Bentham steps forward, wearing her best smile. “Each Pair will have a member of the council acting as mentor for the two-week period before the Partner Final. I will call the name of a mentor and then each Pair will join them as a council mentor calls their names. Your mentor will escort you to another part of the Nucleus House where the three of you will start preparing immediately.”
“Sacra,” Mrs. Bentham says to the council. I keep my eyes closed because—well, I don’t know. It feels right for some reason. Safer. There’s a shuffle around the room and I can imagine her white robe flowing around her like wings.
“Annah Jelowski,” Sacra says. I open my eyes and Annah looks pale when she walks past us toward the front of the room. She’s first of the ten. The very, very first. I hope she doesn’t get McEllory.
She’s gone from view for a few seconds before I see her on the screen, walking down a long aisle. There are so many people out there. Oh God.
“And Jordan Stork,” Sacra adds. The monitor flips to Jordan’s side and shows him walking a shorter distance down the aisle. They both stand next to Sacra and everyone in the room speaks a blessing in Latin. Then the three of them exit.
Only nine more pairs to go.
Next to Mrs. Bentham, Kenneth Slade stands up. He’s a very tall, very dark, very intimidating-looking man with muscles that protrude from his arms, but his hair is graying and I knew him when I was a younger. I remember him coming to visit Dad, and once the sight of him made me cry, but then he smiled and his white, white teeth lit up the room. He would be a good mentor. I wonder if he remembers me.
“Jenna Lakes,” Kenneth says. Jenna disappears from beside us and we all watch her walk through the crowds of witches.
“James McEllory.”
I exhale. At least I was saved from that atrocity. James and Jenna meet at the front, the blessing is said, and they follow Kenneth out of the room. Poor Jenna. I hope James doesn’t let her down.
The names probably go quickly, but the waiting feels like forever. Trina is Paired with some tall boy named Marcus. Eva Leigh Error with Tyson George. Siobhan Coleman with some boy named Adam. Kessa with an Oliver. Only four couples are left. Maybe one of them will be Ric and me.
But no, because just as I think it, they call Ric’s name and he walks to the front of the room toward Maple. At least he got a good partner. Maple is smart and fast and strong.
Ellore stands up next and moves toward the door closest to the front—and farthest away from me. As she moves, I can only think she’s beautiful, her hair down today in dark curls, wild and long. She’s so young, too, to be on the council. “Penelope Grey,” Ellore says.
I swallow a hundred thousand pieces of glass.
It’s as if every nerve ending is on the brink of explosion. Hundreds of eyes watching me, waiting for me to trip over my shoes. I can’t breathe, but magic helps me walk. I don’t know that I could’ve gotten my feet to move on my own. At least there won’t be any tripping.
I’m not supposed to be nervous, but I could vomit all over this pretty floor and all these pretty witches if I wanted to. There are only a few more people after me to be paired.
One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five. I count so I don’t have to think, to wonder, to worry. Mrs. Bentham, Ellore, and the front of the stage are getting closer. I’m getting closer. This is torture. I just want it to be over. Did it take this long with the other girls?
I feel sick. I’m halfway to the front when she says it. I think I expect trumpets or songs of chorus from heavenly hosts, but that’s not what I hear. Only a name.
“William Prescott.”
I take a step up to the stage. My heart somersaults inside my chest.
Something warm is on my arm—Mrs. Bentham’s hand. She practically pulls me the couple extra feet until I’m standing right beside her. She lets go with a squeeze; whether it’s reassuring or threatening is yet to be determined. I guess it’s all depending on if I tuck tail and run.
I look around for someone in my family. I can’t find them and my heart races in my chest, like it’s trying to set some sort of record. My eyes drift around the room, but no one is moving. Why is no one moving? I count the people left. One, two three, four…where’s…? five. Where’s my partner?
Mrs. Bentham moves toward Ellore and they share a hushed conversation. Ellore nods. I count so I don’t bite my lip, so I don’t twitch and let the vomit fly free. I watch Mr. and Mrs. Bentham talk to Ellore. I’m not sure what they’re saying, and I should be listening. How do you make your brain turn off?
The guests at the ceremony all stand and applaud. Despite telling myself I don’t care, my eyes drift to the boys’ door as I walk. I don’t even know what I’m hoping for. That he’ll be as good as everyone says he is? That maybe the normal life I want can be mine? I mean, William Prescott is the son of the Triad leader, so he has pull. Maybe my past can be overlooked. Maybe he will like me enough to not want me exiled to the Nons. Who knows? This could be a chance. Do or die. Literally. I have no control over the rest of this partnership.
The applause fades.
The door doesn’t open. In fact, nothing happens at all.
I shift on my toes and try not to draw any unneeded attention on myself. Where is he? This is embarrassing. I can’t even imagine what Gran is thinking, but I’m sure something like “I told you so” will be the hidden message. And Pop—what’s he doing? Connie is probably horrified because she knows how much I want this.
My stomach is in knots. Where is he? It’s all I can do not to lose it. This is my life, my future. I knew this Prescott guy would be trouble—I knew it as soon as the other girls starting talking about him. About how awesome he was, how powerful, how good. There’s no one that perfect. He’s not that great at all. He may be noble, but he’s obviously not what he seems to be. He’s a jerk. A pompous rich kid. I hate him. I hate him so much.
If he shows up I’ll tell him exactly what I think of him.
Someone coughs in the crowd.
Mrs. Bentham clears her throat and it echoes across the room. All the breakfast I ate hours ago fights its way to the surface and I swallow it back down. My fingers grip tighter, pushing crescent-shaped marks into my palm.
“Mr. William Prescott,” Mrs. Bentham repeats.
There’s a shuffle in the crowd and for a second, I think it’s the door, but it’s not because it doesn’t budge.
And then there’s more silence.
Stifling, eerie silence. There’s nothing like this moment: a crowd full of eyes watching a stranger ditch you. Who the hell is this guy, anyway? How can he just not show up?
The rest of the room starts to murmur. Someone please save me already.
My cheeks turn fourteen shades of red and I steal a glance at Mrs. Bentham. She’s flustered, her hands flying all over the place, looking for a way to settle, but failing. And Ellore looks horrified. Mr. Bentham just stands there.
Then I hear it. Not just me, the whole room. The boys’ door opens and thousands of eyes look in that direction. I’m relieved and pissed.
And then I see him and I’m pretty sure I’m dreaming.
Because it’s not William Prescott.
It’s Carter.
Chapter Sixteen
My mouth drops to the floor as I look at him. From his eyes, to the stubble on his chin, to the lips I wanted to kiss again. Carter is William?