Saylor raised one perfectly groomed brow at me. “And how exactly do you plan to ‘inconspicuously’ stop this Blythe from doing a spell on David at Cotillion?’”

“I’ll . . . figure it out,” I said, shooting a glance at my mom and The Aunts. Aunts May and Martha were arguing over the tea list, and Aunt Jewel was regaling Mom with a story that apparently required a bunch of hand gestures. Watching them, a wave of affection washed over me. “There has to be a way to keep me not killed, keep David un-bespelled, and still live my own life.”

If Saylor Stark were the type of woman who chewed her lip, I think she would have at that moment. As it was, she tapped her teaspoon against her saucer. “I’ll put up more wards around the town, wards geared specifically toward you. Of course, that won’t do you any good the night of Cotillion, if David’s vision is anything to go by. And you have to train with me. At my house, every day.”

“Train how?” I asked, thinking again of Blythe and the letter opener. What training would’ve prepared me for that? “Do you know how to fight? I mean, no offense, Miss Saylor, but you aren’t a Paladin. And you don’t exactly seem like the . . . fighting type.”

Saylor leaned back in her seat, raising one silver eyebrow. “You’re right, I’m not a Paladin. But I worked next to one for nearly thirty years, and I was there with Christopher when he trained under the Ephors. Now, if that isn’t good enough for you, you’re welcome to go to the judo classes at the community center.”

Chastened, I poured another cup of tea. “I’m sorry. I’d . . . I’d love to train with you, Miss Saylor. but every day—”

“We only have three weeks,” Saylor interrupted, sitting up straight. “And that is not nearly enough time to get you ready for something like this.”

“Trust me,” David said. “If anyone can handle pressure, it’s Pres.”

I appreciated his vote of confidence, but Saylor was right— three weeks was nothing.

On the other hand, three weeks was nothing. I could do this. I could find some way to balance my regular life with my Paladin responsibilities. Maybe all those other Paladins gave up their lives to protect Oracles, but they probably weren’t as good at organizing and multitasking as I was.

“I can do that,” I told Saylor, and as I said it, I realized that I could. I just had to be careful with scheduling and do, as Bee would say, a leeeeeettle bit of lying. And, I resolved, it was also time to start telling a leeeeeeettle bit of the truth to someone. “But I’m going to do it my way.”

Saylor’s brows drew together. “What does that mean?”

“It means we’re in trouble,” David said, but when he looked at me, he was grinning.

Chapter 26

On Monday, I put my plan into action. Bee, Ryan, Brandon, and I were having lunch in the courtyard underneath one of the big oak trees. Ryan leaned against the trunk, long legs stretched out in front of him. Brandon had Bee in his lap, and if Headmaster Dunn saw that, they’d both end up with detention, but I refrained from mentioning it. Next to me, Ryan nudged my hip with his.

“Harper?”

“Hmm?”

Smiling, Ryan balled up the rest of his sandwich, tossing it at

the nearest trashcan. It bounced off, of course, and I made a note to remind him to pick it up later. “You are a million miles away,” he said, snaking an arm around my waist and pulling me closer.

“It’s nothing. Thinking,” I said, ducking my head and laying it on his shoulder. I was usually against PDA of any kind, but after neglecting Ryan all weekend, I felt like I owed him a little extra demonstration. He must’ve appreciated that, because he pressed a kiss to my temple.

“You’re always thinking,” he said, more affectionately than accusatory. “And I’m always wondering what about.”

I lifted my head. “We’ve known each other for eight years, been dating for two, and you don’t know what I’m thinking?” I was teasing, but Ryan, still smiling, shook his head.

“Never,” he said. “No idea what goes on in that giant brain of yours.”

I wasn’t sure why the words stung, but they did. He was still grinning guilelessly, his hazel eyes bright, his auburn hair tumbling over his forehead, and he was still so handsome it made my chest tight.

So he didn’t know what I was thinking. Ever, apparently. Big deal.

I snuggled in closer, and said, “I have a lot going on right now.”

From Brandon’s lap, Bee giggled. “You always have a lot going on, Harper. It’s, like, your thing. When you die in a hundred years, they’ll probably write on your gravestone, ‘Here Lies Harper Price—Damn It, She Still Had Stuff to Do!’”

Ryan and Brandon laughed, but I couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through me. A hundred years or three weeks? And damn it, I did still have stuff to do. Starting now.

“Hey, guys?” I said to Brandon and Ryan. “Could I talk to Bee alone for a sec?”

“Sure,” Ryan said automatically rising to his feet.

“Are you going to talk about your periods or something?” Brandon said, frowning.

“You’re disgusting!” Bee shrieked, slugging him in the shoulder.

Even Ryan frowned with distaste. “Dude, really?”

Brandon grabbed Bee by the waist, lifting her with him as he stood up, pressing a smacking kiss to the side of her neck. Once she was on her feet, Bee’s cheeks were red, her blond hair a fuzzy halo around her head. “Go,” she told Brandon, playfully shoving at him.

The boys loped off, and Bee and I watched them go. Shaking her head, Bee sighed, “I don’t know why I put up with him.”

Me neither, I thought. But I needed Bee on my side for what I was going to say next, and ragging on her boyfriend was not going to accomplish that.

Once the boys were out of sight, Bee turned to me, sympathy in her big brown eyes. “Look, you and Ryan are perfect together,” she said. “Don’t worry about that.”

I blinked at her. “What?”

Tucking her hair behind her ears, Bee tilted her head. “Isn’t that what you wanted to talk about? Ryan saying he never knows what you’re thinking? I know how you can obsess over stuff like that, but it doesn’t mean anything. Brandon probably doesn’t even know I have thoughts.”

Impulsively, I reached out and wrapped my arms around Bee, squeezing her tight. “That wasn’t what I wanted to talk about, but your best friend skills are seriously off the charts.”

Laughing, Bee hugged me back. “I try.”

We pulled apart, but I held on to her elbows, keeping her at arm’s length. “Ryan and I are fine, promise,” I told her. “But I actually needed to tell you . . . kind of a secret.”

Bee chewed on her lower lip. “I thought we didn’t have secrets from each other. Wasn’t that what the pinkie swear was about?”

I linked my pinkie with hers again. “It was, and it is. That’s why I’m telling you this now. But, I’m warning you, it’s . . . weird.”

Bee’s pinkie tightened around mine. “I can handle weird, Harper.”

Seriously hoping that was true, I tugged her to sit down next to me under the oak. “It’s about Saylor Stark . . .”

A few hours later, once school was out, Bee and I stood on the Starks’ front porch. She stared up at the house, her eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. “You’re totally serious about this?”

Ringing the doorbell, I nodded. “One hundred percent.” We could hear the bell echoing throughout the house, and as it did, Bee straightened her skirt self-consciously. “But . . . Saylor Stark? Seriously?”

“Seriously,” I replied. The door swung open, and David stood there, dressed in a yellow sweater and his green corduroy pants. He looked like he should be on PBS, talking to a puppet about the alphabet. Still, I had to admit, yellow was a good color on him. It brought out the gold in his hair, and—

I stopped myself. The gold in his hair? Since when did I care about David Stark’s hair except to note when it was trying to escape from his skull? These past few days were clearly messing with my head.

“Hey, Pres,” David said, and then his gaze swung to my right. “And . . . Bee. You’re here. With Harper. At our house.”

His brows practically disappeared as he turned back to me. “You . . . brought Bee to—”

“Training, yeah,” I said quickly. While David stared at me like I’d grown a second head, I breezed past him, pulling Bee after me. “I couldn’t keep everything a secret from everyone forever, so I let Bee in on what’s been going on.”

Now David’s jaw was hanging open slightly. “You told her—”

“That Saylor is training me and you in martial arts, yes.” I moved into the foyer, heading toward the back of the house.

“Martial . . . arts,” David repeated slowly, closing the door behind him.

It was stupid. Ludicrous, even, the idea that Saylor Stark was some kind of secret kung fu master, teaching me and David the ancient art of hand-to-hand combat, but I had to tell Bee something. It would give me an excuse to be around the Starks, and it would get Bee on my side. When I’d told her, I hadn’t had to fake my blush or the embarrassment that colored every word.

“That’s . . . super bizarre,” Bee said once I’d finished.

“Now you see why I’ve been so secretive about it. I mean, learning to kick people in the head and stuff? It’s not exactly how people see me.”

Bee had pulled a long strand of hair over her lips and mouthed it thoughtfully. “I get that, Harper, but this just . . .” She shook her head, blond hair moving over her shoulders. “It seems so not you.”

“I know it does, but I wanted something that was different. Something for me. Leigh-Anne was a cheerleader, and Homecoming Queen and did Cotillion, and this just felt . . . mine.”