City of Thorns (The Demon Queen Trials #1)(2)



I looked up at Jack again to see him leaning back in his chair, massaging his nipples with his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

At that point, two ideas became tangled in my working memory. One was the next phrase on my notecard, which was “If you could imagine…” The other was I’d love to hit that fucker again. With my brain tripping over the two thoughts, I stared right at Jack and blurted, “If you could love fucker again…”

Which made no sense but definitely sounded inappropriate.

Shocked, half-stifled laughter interrupted the silence.

The class turned back to Jack. He’d immediately adopted his innocent note-taking pose again, looking baffled at my pronouncement. His eyebrows rose, innocent.

My stomach plummeted.

Kill me. I’m praying that the floor could swallow me up now.

I felt the warmth creep over my cheeks as a terrible silence fell. The lights buzzed and flickered above me, and my mouth went dry. “I said the wrong thing.” I gestured at Jack. “He was making faces…” I trailed off, realizing how lame this sounded.

Jack’s obsession with me had started years ago when he asked me out as a freshman at Osborne High. I’d said no, and that had made him mad. So he’d started rumors that I’d banged the whole baseball team. Everyone had believed him. They’d called me Home Run Rowan for the next four years, and he’d even photoshopped my face onto nude models. That was what my high school experience had been like.

But no one needed to hear that. They wanted to get this over with and move on to Taco Tuesday in the dining hall.

“I just said the wrong thing,” I added again.

Dr. Omer pressed his two palms together in front of his mouth. “Okay, I don’t know exactly what’s going on here, but I sense there is some interpersonal conflict, and I don’t think this is a productive forum for discussion. If there’s an issue between you two, we can explore that after class.”

Jack looked sheepish and raised his hand for the first time. “I think I know what’s happening. Rowan was upset when I turned her down for a date last night, and she didn’t know how to handle it. She lashed out.” He gestured at his eye. “But I swear, I’m ready to put the physical assault behind me. I’m ready to focus on Abnormal Psych. I’m a very good student. If you’ll look at my transcript, I think you’ll find that I’m one of the best students you’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, my God!” Alison’s eyes were open wide. “Did you really give him that black eye, though?” she asked me. “I’m not trying to be dramatic, but I’m literally physically scared right now.”

Someone said something about calling the police. Others guffawed, half shocked and half thrilled. From their perspective, this was probably the best thing that had happened to them all semester. This was better than Taco Tuesday. This was drama.

I crumpled my notecards in my hands, and my heart slammed against my ribs. “Wait. I hit him, yes, but he deserved it. He’s the problem here, not me.”

Already, I could see the recommendation letter from Dr. Omer disappearing before my eyes. Goodbye to grad school in the City of Thorns; goodbye to my lifelong dream of closing an unsolved crime.

Unhinged. I seemed completely unhinged.

They had it all wrong, but nothing makes you seem crazier than trying to scream that you’re the only sane one.

“Okay, you know what?” I tossed the notecards in the trash can. “I think my presentation is over.”

My entire body buzzed with adrenaline as I rushed out of the room.





Chapter 2





I sat on the bed in my basement apartment, sketching the gates of the City of Thorns.

After my shitty day, I’d gone for a long run. I’d pushed the pace hard, and my muscles still burned as I stretched them on the comforter. Running was the best way I had of dealing with stress, losing myself in physicality. It was also the one time I felt really good at something. The only problem was that sometimes, when my feet pounded the leaves in the woods, I’d have glimmers of flashbacks to the night Mom died. I’d hear her voice, telling me to run.

I shook my head, clearing my mind of the dark memory. Instead, I focused on trying to perfect the picture of the gate. This drawing served no purpose, but I’d become completely obsessed with the gate’s contours—the wrought iron entrance to the demon city, decorated with a skull in the center, strangely beautiful and forbidding at the same time. Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest obsession to draw the same thing repeatedly like a psycho, but at least I wasn’t thinking about Jack Corwin.

I exhaled as I shaded in the skull. Living here was all part of my plan to save money for grad school in the demon city. Down here, I was saving every dime I could, living in a cellar with six other broke students. Our rooms were divided by thin wooden walls, and we shared a bathroom and a kitchenette that was mostly a hot pot and kettle.

My phone buzzed—a call from Shai—and I swiped to answer. “Hey.”

“Oh! You actually answered instead of pretending you were busy and then texting two minutes later.”

I grinned. “Who talks on the phone anymore? It makes everyone nervous except you.”

“So what are we doing for your birthday? Because there’s this amazing Thai takeout place I want to try, and I could bring it to you with, like, a couple bottles of wine.”

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