Investigated

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Investigated Page 11

by Maya Daniels


  The air gets disturbed around my face, and I’m wishing these imaginary roots were real so I can yank one out and stab whoever is waving a hand in front of me in the eye. Grinding my teeth, I try to ignore it. The air ruffles the hairs that have dried out and escaped my braid. My hand shoots out, snatching the arm of the asshole standing too close for my liking, and I twist it behind their back. A shrill, high-pitched scream tells me it’s one of the girls even before I open my eyes.

  “It’s rude to interrupt people while they are trying to concentrate.” Pushing her arm up higher between her shoulder blades, I grin at the other two that are gaping at me like they’ve seen a ghost. “You look like you’re my age.” Glancing at the kneeling woman, I smile at her glare. “Acting like a child.”

  Her chocolate brown hair is pulled tight in a high ponytail, opening her beautiful face up. Too bad it’s made ugly by the scrunched-up nose and sneer on her lips. If she thinks I’ll get scared by the grimace, the girl needs to work more on her facial expressions.

  “Let her go, you nut job!” the redhead still standing next to a beefy, dark-haired guy shrieks.

  “You are poking at me while I’m trying to find my center, and I’m the nut job?” Snorting, I push the idiot away and straighten. “How does that work?”

  “You’re trying to find what?” The redhead looks confused for a second. Her nasally voice grinds on my nerves. “You know what? Never mind! Apologize at once!”

  Scratching my ear, I watch her face for a second. Yup, she’s actually serious with the nonsense that came out of her mouth. Shaking my head, I snatch the shirt off the floor, pulling it over my head. So much for calming down my anger.

  “I think she has a selective hearing.” The beefy guy grumbles from next to the redhead.

  “What are you? Her phycologist?” The brown eyed glare is turned in his direction. “Go hang out with her then.” Lifting her chin up, the redhead looks down her nose at me. Impressive since she is a head shorter. “I said apologize.” The brunette even crosses her arms, watching me expectantly.

  Heading straight between the two of them, they both flinch when I reach them. With a smirk, I bump my shoulder into the redhead, making her stumble. Something between a gasp and a shout comes out of her, and my grin stretches as I head for the door.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  I don’t reach the door.

  Sharp nails dig into my shoulder, ripping the only clean shirt I have. My body reacts to the aggression like always as I pivot to face the redhead. My hand shoots out, the heel of my palm connecting with her jaw. Her head snaps back, and I follow it with two fast punches in her sternum. She drops like a rock and curls in on herself. My knees bend, preparing my body to pounce on her and end this right here, right now.

  “Francesca, stop!” Fenrir’s voice snaps me out of my killing daze.

  When my mind is clear enough, I see the other two idiots watching me in horror, their wide eyes going from me to their writhing friend on the floor. Fenrir steps next to me, his fingers wrapping like a vice around my elbow. The Fae sure loves his elbow holding.

  “I’m fine.” Jerking my arm, I try to dislodge him, but he holds on like a leech. Grinding my teeth, I turn to him. “I said I’m fine. And stop calling me Francesca; you’re not my mother.”

  “That is your name. What shall I call you if not by your name?” He looks genuinely perplexed.

  “Whatever you want, as long as it isn’t my full name spoken like I’m a child throwing a tantrum.”

  “Okay.” Dragging the words out, a line forms between his eyebrows. I stare at him with a slacked jaw. He is actually thinking about it right now. “Hellion.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Hellion.” The Fae actually grins at me. “I can’t think of a better name for you, Francesca Drake.”

  “Sir, this female…” The brunette opens her mouth, but Fenrir waves her away like a pesky fly.

  “I’m well aware of your antics around the academy. This should teach you to pick your opponents more wisely in the future. If you cannot deal with a few bruises and a hurt ego, you do not belong here. Now get out of my face, all of you.”

  When they spring into action scurrying like cockroaches, lifting their friend and dragging her along, I don’t miss the poisonous looks sent my way. Staying quiet, I watch them leave, waiting until I can no longer feel their energy nearby. Then I round on Fenrir.

  “Great job.” Jamming my hands on my hips, I’m surprised when he takes a step back. “Like I needed more enemies watching my every step around this place. Why are you even here?”

  “Looking for you.” Catching himself, he moves closer to me. “You need an escort, remember?”

  “How can I ever forget, your majesty.” Turning on my heel, I almost jog away from him.

  “You are still upset about me not telling you.” His long legs make it easy for him to fall into step with me.

  “You think?”

  “But you knew before you got here because I told you at the bar, Hellion.” I might break a tooth because of this guy. My jaw clenches so tight, I hear my teeth grinding.

  “That’s a lie.” It sounds like a growl when I push the words out.

  “I told you that you are one of mine.” He almost bumps into me when I stop abruptly.

  Giving him a once over, lingering on his light eyes and platinum hair, my eyebrow lifts up my forehead. “I have absolutely no connection to the Light Court, Fenrir.”

  “I’m Unseelie.” Grinning proudly, he puffs up his chest.

  “But…” My words die out when the blue color of his eyes swirls and red eyes with white pupils are staring back at me, unblinking.

  “Phantasmagoria, remember?”

  “Illusion…” My hand lifts to his face, the tips of my fingers touching the corner of his eye.

  “Yes.” His voice sounds deeper, huskier, and I snatch my hand back.

  “Okay, then.” Feeling awkward, I think of anything to change the subject. “Did you find out anything useful after I left?”

  “You didn’t leave. I carried your half-asleep body to the separate rooms that you demanded.”

  “As I said”—Ignoring his comment, I get moving again—“after I left.” Shoving a hand in his face to shut him up when he opens his mouth again, I don’t turn my head to look at him. I’m still unnerved by the illusion crap. “Did you hear anything useful?”

  The Fae looks like he wants to push his point, but he luckily decides against it. “We have no names, but some of the guards have noticed discrepancies in the ranks. We have a few of our trusted ones keeping an ear out. We will find them, Hellion. It’s just a matter of time.”

  “Time, we don’t have, Fenrir.” Forgetting the discomfort, I turn to look at his face. “The Daywalkers might be able to deal with this since you are better equipped. The residents of Sienna that are disappearing and showing up dead can’t. They count on Roberti…on me to keep them safe.” Now that I’ve had some sleep and my brain is not fried, I remember other things too.

  A shiver like ghostly fingers runs up my spine.

  “I need to tell you what happened before you saw me first at Raven’s Feather.” Chewing on the inside of my mouth, I try to think of how to say it without sounding like I have mental problems.

  “Zoltan is meeting us at the dining hall. Let’s hold the conversation until we get there. Even the walls have ears, and it’s difficult to block the sound while I’m moving.”

  “You can actually do that?”

  “I can do many things.” Giving me a strained smile, if I’m not mistaken, Fenrir looks embarrassed.

  Well, I’ll be damned. The arrogant jerk is shy.

  Folding that revelation away for a later time, I keep my mouth shut and follow him to the dining hall. The fluttering in my belly and the speeding up of my heartbeat have absolutely nothing to do with the frustratingly annoying vampire we are about to meet.

  Nope.

  It’s just my nerves because
I need to tell them about the shadows from that night. Keep lying to yourself. My snarky inner voice laughs at the pathetic attempt to delude myself.

  Chapter 17

  My head swivels left and right as we walk the halls of the academy. With everything pressing on me from all sides, most of all my inadequacy to have control of my crazy genes, I forget that standing here is every supernatural creature’s dream. I, too, dreamed that one day I would be here, learning how to walk the daylight and the human realm. A dream that was squished like a bug under a shoe by my ever-realistic mother. As I watch the people around me pass us by, all of them hurrying to a place they need to be, I hear her voice as if she’s standing next to me.

  “You are half blood, Francesca. Those like you hardly live long enough to reach maturity, little less dream of becoming a Daywalker. You will do best to stay as far away from that place as you can. Daywalkers don’t tolerate half bloods. And without them, our world will fall apart. You don’t want to be the downfall for the rest of us. Learn your place, girl, while you still have time.”

  Fear tightens my chest, my palms dampening with cold sweat.

  What was wrong with me that I actually thought that this was a good idea? I should’ve said no. Damn, I should’ve told Roberti screw you and then walked away from everything.

  Glancing sideways at Fenrir, I hope he doesn’t notice when I wipe my hands on my pants, swallowing the lump that is like a fist in my throat. This is why I do stupid things and get myself in trouble. If I stop for long enough and start thinking, anxiety and damnation of what I am will crush me. The weight of my doomed existence will either drive me insane or ill end it all on my own.

  I’m prickly instead.

  The mask I dawn and carry with pride has kept everything and everyone away from me. If you don’t let anyone close, they can’t see your vulnerability. They’ll never learn your secrets.

  Like you didn’t let Zoltan learn your vulnerability? The inner voice never seizes to remind me of my shortcomings.

  “What are you thinking?” My heart stutters at Fenrir’s voice.

  “Nothing.” When he turns those searching eyes my way, I find the walls and windows around us fascinating. “Well, nothing important. Just wondering about this place. It’s not every day I get to walk with the rest of your kind.”

  “It’s my kind now, is it?” The light of the moon through the large windows catches his iris, a flash of something startling me for a split second. When I blink, it’s gone, and that’s enough to convince me I imagined it.

  “You are a Daywalker, are you not Fae?”

  “Ah.” Nodding as if he expected as much, his gaze narrows slightly as he folds his hands at his lower back. “That I am.” He dips his chin in greeting to a few students that watch him starry eyed.

  “You don’t sound very happy about it.” Concentrating not to fidget with my hands, my nostrils flare, catching the scent of many species nearby.

  “Happy?” One of his perfect eyebrows climbs up his forehead. “I’m neither happy nor unhappy, Hellion. I am what I am.” His gaze sweeps over me from head to toe, sending an awareness prickling under my skin. “Just like you are what you are.”

  “We both know that’s not true.” Mumbling under my breath, I flick my eyes around, making sure no one is close enough to hear us. “You are what every one of us wishes to become, and very few achieve it. Which reminds me…” Against my better judgment, I move closer to him, wrapping my fingers around his forearm. “Why is it that very few graduate this academy? What exactly are the rest of you doing to all the people willing to risk their lives to train and join you.”

  “You will do well to leave things alone, Francesca.” When he says my name, his voice is flat and devoid of emotion. “I helped you get in so we can stop the insanity that might be the end of all of us, not for you to poke around in what does not concern you. Heed my advice and leave things alone. Find what you are looking for, then leave.”

  Many things sit on the tip of my tongue, but the urge to point out to him where to stick his advice is the strongest of them all. The way his body shifts to the side away from me, the muscles under the fabric of his shirt that I’m gripping turning to granite, warns me to stay silent. I don’t think the Fae is aware of the little tells he subconsciously gives me to drop the subject. Or maybe he is and did it on purpose. Fenrir is just another mystery in this place that is making me itch to discover its secrets. The feeling of being watched presses like a finger between my shoulder blades, making me agree with the Fae that I should care less about the academy and more about finding the archives before getting the hell out of here.

  My feet falter, slowing down when we reach the same split hallway, one leading to the dining hall and the other adorned in golden tones and accents. The pull is much stronger this time, and the effort to resist it has beads of sweat forming around my hairline. Fenrir’s hand covers mine where my fingers are digging into the shirt on his forearm, bringing me to the present. When I look at his face, his profile is as stern as always, his gaze trained straight in front of us, unaware that he has stopped me from bolting down that hall, no doubt saving me from a guaranteed death. Whatever is there can’t be anything good. Not if everyone ignores it, and it calls to me like a siren song.

  No, that is a damn trap if I’ve ever seen one.

  “You should smile.” Still keeping his eyes straight, Fenrir pets my fingers a few times before dropping his hand away. “You look like you’ll either kill someone, or I’m the worst company a female can have.”

  “I don’t get your point.” Deadpanning it, I deepen my glower.

  Throwing his head back, the bursts of his deep belly laughter startles the few people mulling the hallway. My lips quirk at the corners, but I manage to keep a straight face. He might not be a bad guy, but it doesn’t mean that he is not hiding something. I need to stop acting like a fool and get moving. The longer I stay here, the chances are we are all going to regret this little adventure. Everything so far points to that. Too many coincidences are never a good thing.

  I feel the weight of Zoltan’s gaze the second my feet cross the dining room threshold. Those deep blue eyes settle on my hand, still gripping Fenrir’s forearm. I drop it like he burnt me, not missing the displeased groan coming from the Fae’s chest. Another thing telling me I should get out of here as fast as my feet will carry me.

  The constant hum of conversation filling the air calms my unease, while my feet keep moving in the direction of the side table where Zoltan is sitting alone. The plates are full of food, spread in front of him untouched, as he tracks my movement like a predator marking his prey. All my nerve endings come to life, the urge to flee so intense I almost turn around and bolt out of the room. Clenching my fists, I grind my teeth, fighting the instinct with everything in me.

  Zoltan’s full lips curve slightly at the corners.

  Seeing that smirk prickles my pride, shaking off whatever idiocy he provoked in me. I shouldn’t have let him see my reaction to him, but it’s too late now. I’ve shown more of my weaknesses to this man than anyone else in my life. It needs to stop, and it needs to stop now.

  “Let’s sit with him since no one likes his company or sunny personality.” Waving my hand in Zoltan’s direction, I grin at Fenrir. “I’ve always had a soft spot for the unfortunate ones.”

  The room falls so silent you can hear a pin drop. Fenrir chokes on air, his face reddening while he hacks like a cat trying to cough out a hairball. Anxiety tries to push its way through me, but I wrestle it down, keeping the grin plastered on my face. Locking my gaze on Zoltan’s, I regret opening my mouth so much, I’m grateful I don’t start apologizing immediately. His smoldering gaze burns me all the way to my soul.

  And then he chuckles.

  “Miss Drake, a pleasure to see you, as always.” I hate that my eyes trace the shaking of his chest while he still chuckles.

  “Because you’ve seen me what?” Plopping across from him, I lift my eyebrow, “Twice now?�
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  My heart does a hard and painful thump against my ribs at the look crossing his eyes. It’s gone so fast it leaves my head spinning, but I will bet everything I am that it was there. Fenrir rounds the table opposite me, bumping his leg on Zoltan’s knee. The gesture is too obvious to go unnoticed. Has Zoltan seen me before? If so, when was that? My stomach drops to the floor at the weird exchange, but I have no time to think it through. Not right now, at least.

  “She came across Cassius’s daughter and her minions when I found her.” Fenrir speaks conversationally, jerking his pants up at the knees as he sits down all prim and proper.

  “You do know that I’m not a stray dog that you adopted, right?” Glaring at Fenrir, I ignore the penetrating gaze that Zoltan hasn’t moved away from me.

  “Don’t be absurd, Francesca. He should be aware that we might have a problem, thanks to your little adventure this morning.” The arrogant Fae is back to looking down his nose at me. I didn’t even notice when he slipped the mask on.

  “I was trying to find my center.” Refusing to apologize for not doing anything wrong, I stare the Fae down. He is trying very hard not to laugh, which only deepens my glare. “She touched me, which made her fair game after that. Who touches anyone without permission?”

  “I do.” Zoltan’s deep voice makes me shiver for an entirely inappropriate reason.

  “It speaks!” Blurting out the words a lot louder than I intended, I make Fenrir almost swallow his tongue. “Sorry.” Squeezing my eyes shut as if pained, I pray for the ground to open so I can disappear.

  A sound like large rocks rolling down a steep hill snaps my eyes open. Slowly but surely, it gets louder and louder, the only noise in the otherwise silent space. My shocked gaze stays on Zoltan, who hasn’t moved a muscle or looked away from me since I walked in this dining hall. The only difference at the moment is the empty look in his deep, blue eyes.

 

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