He was more than handsome. I’d been around my fair share of pretty boys. This was something else . . . something chemical. I’d never doubt my mother’s theory of attraction again.
I watched Dane as inconspicuously as possible as he moved through the party. Even though he was Mixed, people treated him with a certain amount of deference. All the girls took special notice of him. Clearly, I wasn’t his only admirer. Why was I being so ridiculous? He wouldn’t even look at me. Come to think of it, Dane seemed to look at everyone but me.
The music changed to something more upbeat, a jig of some sort, and Brennon lifted me up and twirled me around. I couldn’t help but laugh. There was an easiness about him. I tried to imagine what it would be like, picking someone to spend the rest of your life with based on their scent. Brennon wouldn’t have been a bad choice. Fireworks didn’t go off in my chest when he touched me, but maybe that was better—who wants to spend their whole life getting burned? And Brennon didn’t make me want to hurl when he touched me, which was still kind of a novelty.
As we danced, Brennon filled me in on the Quivira gossip. “The Hanrattys stick to their own.” He nodded toward a grim-faced group huddled up on the right side of the ballroom. “And it’s best to steer clear of the cheese balls. The Hanrattys always make the cheese balls.”
“Got it. Hanrattys are weird. Don’t eat their cheese balls.” I smiled.
“The Grimsbys are good folk . . . like Lou, she’s a peach, but there are a lot of seers in that bloodline.”
“I’d never met a seer, until today.”
“Consider yourself lucky. My friend Pete over there”—he nodded toward a tall, rail-thin boy watching a group of girls dancing and carrying on—“he’s a Grimsby. He can’t even entertain the idea of calling on a girl without one of his aunts telling him how it will end in tears.”
I looked around the room. “What other kinds of spiritual gifts do people have?”
“There are a couple of dowsers—people who can find water sources—a few finders, folks who can locate missing objects or sense their history. Comes in handy when Ruth Hanratty loses her teeth, which happens about once a day,” he said, chuckling. “But the gifts are diminishing with every generation. Except for the Mixed, of course.”
I perked up. “What about the Mixed?”
“When Coronado left Quivira, his children stayed behind. They say there’s black magic in their blood, and their gifts only seem to get stronger. But you are one of a kind,” he said with a grin as he spun me around fast. “You are a Larkin, the first twin in your family, and the first conduit of your bloodline.”
“Are there any other conduits at the party?” I asked, my heart quickening at the thought.
“Of course not.” He pulled back slightly, with a sour look on his face.
A bitter feeling welled up inside of me.
He lowered his head, his tone softening. “I hope I didn’t offend you. It’s just . . . you’re very different from the other conduits. You’re very fortunate.”
“Am I?” I felt my throat constrict. I tugged at the ribbon tied around my neck, but that wasn’t the cause. I couldn’t help wondering what it really meant to be a conduit . . . what I’d become if the protection marks weren’t working anymore.
A guy bashed into me; he twirled his partner around—it was Lauren. The way he scowled at me made me think it wasn’t an accident.
Brennon quickly moved us away, toward the far right corner of the ballroom.
“What’s their problem?” I asked as I peeked over Brennon’s shoulder to find them glaring at us.
“That’s my cousin Lauren, just being Lauren, and the one with the black eye is Tommy. He’s a little off-kilter, but he’s a third cousin removed. He’s got a little too much Hanratty blood, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, well, from the looks of him, I wouldn’t be surprised if that black eye was self-inflicted.”
“How did you know?” Brennon laughed. “And over there . . .” He nodded toward a distinguished-looking man, impeccably dressed with thick dark hair, a dab of gray at his temples, who was holding court near the buffet table. “That’s my uncle, Spencer Mendoza. He’s a big deal around here.”
Spencer’s eyes locked on mine.
I staggered back a little.
“Are you okay?” Brennon shot his arm around my lower back, supporting me.
“Yeah.” I inhaled sharply as I regained my footing. “I just got a little dizzy.” I watched Spencer excuse himself and leave the ballroom. As he passed, I got a whiff of parchment and eucalyptus, but there was something foul underneath. I had no clue what just happened—I’d never set eyes on him before, yet I hated his guts.