We sat in silence.
“Tony passed too,” I said finally.
Milo looked up. “Where’s he assigned?”
“No idea. Starla gave me some line about privacy protocol.”
“Everything about this place is stupid.”
“Maybe he’s in Toledo too.”
“God, I hope not. No one deserves that.”
“It could be great.” I hit his knee. He grunted.
Shoving him aside, I crawled in and laid next to him.
“My dad once told me Ohio has great hot dogs,” I said finally.
He shot me a sideways look. “If you make a wiener joke right now, I will punch you in the tit.”
“Fine. I’ll make it when I come visit you.”
He propped his head on his elbow and looked down at me. “Promise?”
“Of course. I bet they have great roads for drag racing since only like three people live there anyway.”
He scowled. “Not helping.”
I grinned. “Sorry. But seriously, go to Toledo. Kill some demons. Impress the higher-ups. Request a transfer. You’ll be back in the French Quarter before you know it.”
“They’re separating us because we’re too much for one city to handle,” he said.
“It’s a conspiracy,” I agreed.
He sighed then dropped a kiss to the tip of my nose. “Fine. I’ll go and kick ass. But when I get transferred back here, you’re buying dinner.”
“All the wieners you can eat.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Gem Hawkins, please report to my office.” Starla’s voice woke me from a dead sleep. For a terrifying second, I thought she was standing in my dorm room.
My heart raced as I rolled over, looking around wildly. Squinting into the shadowy darkness, I made out the familiar shape of my desk and chair. Other than that, the room was empty.
“Gem Hawkins.” Starla’s voice was tinny and far away.
I exhaled. “Ugh, what?”
I rubbed my face, hoping to clear my thoughts. The clock beside my bed read three-fourteen.
What the hell?
“Please report to my office immediately.”
The loudspeaker crackled then went silent.
Right. She was calling me over the intercom. But what was urgent enough to make her do it in the middle of the night?
I got dressed quickly, throwing a sweatshirt on over my loose tee, and then padded into the hallway in my socks and sweatpants.
Dim lighting washed everything in yellow-tinged shadows. For the millionth time, I wished my fae magic were available to help me navigate. But as usual, my magic was stripped outside the group training areas. I ran a hand through my bedhead hair and kept going, ears strained for any sign I wasn’t alone. If this was some kind of test, some ambush waiting to happen, I wanted to be ready.
But nothing jumped out at me. No sign of instructors lurking or conjured demons blocking my way. At the end of the hall, I turned left and crept past the clinic toward the door I’d come through that first day I’d arrived at the Tiff.
Months ago now. It felt like years.
The door called to me like a siren. On the other side of that was the freedom Tony had talked about. It was dinner with Mom and sandwich tastings with Lila and laughter and sunshine and speed.
It was also a world in which my father’s killer currently walked free. If I left now, whoever had threatened me would win.
I turned away from the door, knocking on Starla’s office instead.
“Come in.”
Pushing the door open, I blinked at the bright light. Starla sat behind a polished desk, her hair and makeup flawless despite the time of night.
“You wanted to see me,” I said.
She gestured to the chairs. “Sit. We need to chat.”
I dropped into one of the chairs, panic spiking at her serious tone.
“Is everything okay?” I asked. “Is it my mother?”
“Your mother?” She frowned. “I have no idea. No, this is about you, Gem.”
“Me?”
“I’ve been watching your performance here over these last weeks, and I think you’re a great asset to wherever you’ll land when you’ve finished your training.”
“Okay.” I still didn’t understand where this was going or why it had to be said at three in the morning.
“I’d like it if you landed here. With me.”
“Like an instructor position?”
“Not quite. You’d be assisting me directly.”
Either I was exhausted and not understanding her right or she’d just asked me to be her secretary.
“And what position is that, exactly?”
Even after weeks and weeks under the same roof, I still had no idea what Starla actually did.
“I’m looking for a set of eyes and ears. You’ve become friends with, not just the recruits, but some of our staff as well.”
“I’m just being nice,” I said carefully.
“And you notice more than you let on.”
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
She smiled tightly. “What can you tell me about Leslie?”
“The nurse?” I frowned. “She’s . . . capable? And nice.”
“Capable and nice.” Starla folded her hands on the desk. “That’s your professional assessment? As a detective, I mean.”
“I wasn’t aware I should be using my detective skills on the staff.”
“A good detective should always be assessing everyone, don’t you think?”
What the hell was this? Some kind of test?
Fine.
“Leslie is pleasant but gullible. She’s not very observant and a terrible liar.”
Starla’s lips twitched. “Tell me more.”
I kept my gaze even and my face carefully blank. Where was this all going?
“She’s a great asset on your front end. Greeting new recruits, making them feel at home. She makes them believe they’re capable of retaining some of the secrecy of their old lives.”
“What kind of secrets?” she asked, and my stomach tightened at the knowing look she wore.
“Anything they’ve managed to skim under the radar of the hiring teams. She’s also friendly enough to feel like a confidante when some of the trainees might need to feel less alone during this process. But—”
I stopped, unsure how honest to be.
“Go on.”
Screw it. I was all in.
“The flip side is that your first line of defense against a threat is a creature not equipped to spot them. It wouldn’t be difficult for a rebel to sneak through and into the program. Not with Leslie as your gatekeeper.”
Starla’s eyes glittered. “Insightful. Thorough. What can you tell me about how you came to this conclusion?”
“The lying?” I shrugged. “I don’t believe for a second that Desmond Ayers just went home to recover from a flu. There’s a cover-up, and one conversation with Leslie gave it away.”
“But your fae magic allowed you to read her, I’m sure.”
“My magic is stripped,” I pointed out. “This had nothing to do with fae senses.”
“I see. And the rest? Her gullibility and making recruits believe they retain their secrets…?”
My pulse sped.
“I’d rather not share until I can prove my theories that led to this assessment.”
Starla tipped her head back and laughed.
“You’re perfect for this.”
I frowned. “I’m still not sure what the job is.”
“You’re doing it now. Assessing our potential weaknesses. Using your detective skills to see what others can’t. You’ve also managed to hang onto your own secrets all the way through the program. A skill most recruits lose around the fourteen-day mark, statistically speaking.”
My palms went clammy.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Gem, we both know you’re capable of shifting into a lot more than just y
our father’s griffin.”
My mouth went dry.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You do. But you’ll die before admitting it. I appreciate that. I need that kind of resolve in an apprentice.” Her smile dimmed. Her eyes sharpened. Even without magic, her inner feline seemed to stir. “Discretion and deception. Those are my requirements. And absolute loyalty, of course.”
Starla fell silent, waiting. Watching.
“You want a spy,” I realized. “Not for the SSF. For you.”
“As I said before, you’re perceptive. It’s one of the reasons I chose you.”
“This is why you called me here in the middle of the night. So no one else will know about this.”
“Even Leslie’s ignorance has its limits.”
I hesitated, a refusal on the tip of my tongue. I was here for my own purpose, not to become a spy and errand girl to the Tiff’s receptionist. But then if Starla were just a receptionist, she wouldn’t need a spy.
“Who do you want me to watch?” I asked.
“Everyone,” she said. “But specifically, your instructors. At least to start.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Is this about sexual harassment? Because you don’t need an inside man to know Rigo’s a piece of—”
“This isn’t about Rodrigo’s penchant for the female recruits.”
“So you already know he’s a sleaze?”
Starla didn’t flinch. “I know a great many things about this place. Including the fact that you have a cell phone stowed underneath your mattress. And that you smuggled an inter-agency memo into the magic-friendly areas to try and decipher the redacted portions. Not to mention you befriended Ollie, which is no small thing.”
My jaw dropped a little, and I glanced around the office. Were there cameras somewhere I hadn’t seen?
Part of me wanted to ask if she knew Milo had actually gotten his hands on a deciphered version of the report—or if she knew about the favor he’d traded to get it.
“I know you think I don’t do much here, but that’s not an accident. It’s imperative the recruits—and the instructors, for that matter—continue to underestimate me.”
“Who do you report to?” I asked, trying to put all the pieces together about what Starla’s job really was.
“No one you should concern yourself with,” she said, and I knew she had no intention of giving me names. Not tonight, anyway. “If you agree to do this, you will report directly to me and no one else. If you prove useful, and we both survive the next few months, then we can talk about introductions.”
If we survive?
“And if I don’t agree?” I asked.
Would she give up my secret? Tell the SSF about my shapeshifting abilities?
She shrugged. “Then we will part ways, and this will have been nothing more than a strange sort of sleepwalk.”
I stared at her as the truth behind her words sunk in. “You’d wipe my memory.”
She didn’t respond.
“But only Nephilim can do that.”
More silence.
It didn’t matter. She’d just answered my question. Starla reported directly to a Nephilim. I didn’t know which one. Or why. That could come later. For now, I had to seize the opportunity in front of me. Spying for a Nephilim was dangerous. It’s not like I could trust them or even begin to understand their agenda here. But I couldn’t deny the access it might offer.
“All right,” I said finally. “But first I need to know you aren’t bluffing. That you have information others don’t.”
“What would you like to know?”
“Desmond Ayers. What really happened to him?”
“He was infected with some kind of demon disease we’ve never seen before. He was taken to quarantine at headquarters for more tests and hopefully a cure.”
“What kind of disease?”
“If we knew that, he’d already be cured.”
I blew out a breath. She hadn’t mentioned the undocumented demon issue, but she’d been honest about his condition at least.
“One more question. Where did Tony Coffell get assigned?”
“Tony is working security at headquarters. He’s on day shift and has already been spotted with Fiona Davis three nights this week at various restaurants in the city.”
My body relaxed in silent relief. Tony was okay.
A beat of silence passed between us while I thought about everything Starla was offering—and asking of me.
“All right,” I said finally.
Starla leaned forward. “Does this mean we have a deal?”
“Yeah,” I said, hoping I wasn’t making the biggest mistake ever. “I’ll spy for you.”
Chapter Sixteen
A fennec demon lay dead at my feet, its thick goo coating my face and hands. I opened my mouth to suck in a breath and with it came the bitter taste of slime against my tongue. My stomach rolled. I gagged, and my beast took over until I’d shifted to my griffin form without conscious thought.
Somewhere in the training area, a scream sounded. My griffin’s head whipped around, shifting as I turned. The training arena became more and more empty with each passing day. Three quarters of my class had already tested out, which meant more room to move around during these practice trials. It also meant more demons per recruit to take down since Rigo didn’t believe in proper ratios between agents and monsters.
This far into the session, most of the demons had already fallen, but several had also been lit on fire. Probably courtesy of Langdon, the warlock with ink-stained hands. He’d gotten pretty good at conjuring fireballs lately.
I squinted through the smoky haze, my griffin fading as I realized the worst of the danger had passed. By the time I spotted the source of the screams, I was back on two legs, every inch of me still coated in goo.
“Back up,” Faith yelled, and I realized she was the source of the panic.
An arachnid demon had cornered her against a brick wall. The building at her back had been spelled to look like a daycare full of human children. One of the demon’s back legs shot out, slicing at Faith’s already-bloody arms. At the same time, Faith swung out with a long-handled blade, its sharp end aimed at the demon’s throat. She faltered when the demon’s leg made contact.
On a sharp noise of pain, Faith’s body listed sideways and pain contorted her features.
I stepped over the pile of goo and guts that had been a demon up until ten seconds ago, then sprinted for Faith.
Flinging magic ahead of me, I watched as the force of my fae power shuddered through the arachnid demon, temporarily stunning it. I wasn’t capable of anything lethal with those blasts, but I’d learned how to sharpen what I had into something pretty damn painful. I knew because Rigo had made us shoot ourselves with our own magic three weeks ago just to see what it felt like. Three different warlocks had wet themselves from their self-inflicted pain. Langdon Potts had nearly burned to death.
With the arachnid demon stunned, Faith slid her blade into the demon’s head, killing it with one blow.
I watched as the demon fell in a tangle of limbs.
Faith looked up, and our eyes locked.
“Thanks,” she said, breathless and glassy-eyed.
“Don’t mention it.”
“I probably won’t,” she admitted, her face pale and coated in a sheen of sweat.
Then she was out of my line of sight as two of the medics rushed over to inspect her wounds. Already, Faith’s lacerations were oozing with the demon spider’s poison. After an urgent round of questions from the medics, Faith was rushed from the room.
Finally, I turned to survey the damage we’d done with our kills.
One of the far walls was crumbling where another demon had smashed into it in an attempt to crush a recruit. The training room floor was made up of several dozen dead demons and their ever-widening puddle of poisons and goo. But all of that would be cleaned up and re-glamoured before next time. What I cared about most were the recru
its. At a glance, everyone else looked relatively unharmed.
“Weapons down,” Professor Thorne called. “Please assemble in the center for debrief.”
Slowly, I made my way over piles of rubble and guts. A few disgusted glances were thrown my way as my classmates noticed how much goo I’d been coated in. No one walked too close as we all reassembled in the center for debriefing.
“You okay?” Cliff asked.
“Yeah, I look worse than I feel,” I told him.
“Nah.” He grinned. “You wear it well.”
I ignored his flirty tone, but he didn’t seem to mind. Cliff’s interest had moved into a comfortable space. Like he knew it was never going anywhere and didn’t seem to mind too much. He’d started following Violet around instead.
“Hawkins!”
Rigo marched up, his face flushed.
“What the hell was that stunt?” he demanded.
I frowned in confusion. “Demon slaying?”
“Try again.”
“Messy demon slaying?”
Cliff snickered.
“We have a strict rule against assisting other recruits unless otherwise partnered up. Or did you forget?”
“You mean Faith?” I glanced at the still-twitching arachnid demon. “You gave her a level three. The thing had already broken her skin and was poisoning her. You can’t expect me to stand by and just watch it happen.”
“I can, and I did. You failed this assignment. Your final exam is suspended effective immediately. I’ll let you know when and if I reschedule it.”
“Wait, you can’t just pull my final. I’m due to test out this week.”
He glared at me, rage dancing behind his dark eyes. “Don’t you dare tell me what I can and can’t do. I’m in charge here. Not you.”
“Well then maybe you should act like it,” I hissed.
His eyes went wide, and I knew I’d gone too far.
I’d just talked back to an instructor, which was a big no-no. And to top it off, there were witnesses to back it up.
I was screwed.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Professor Thorne wedging past the others. In about three seconds, I was going to be in serious trouble for insubordination. But dammit, what did they expect? I wasn’t going to let them punish me for not letting Faith die. Even I didn’t dislike her that much.
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