ChapterFour
SUNDAY
Libraries were all the same no matter where you were. Human or supernatural, they smelled of dust and paper, leather and ink. It was one thing I could always count on. The Satori library here at Ravenscroft was no different. I tossed the heavy tome I'd been studying onto the table in front of me, a loud thud calling attention my way from the scattering of students up and down the rows of workspaces. I’d been spending more and more time here during the evenings because any time I was alone on the grounds, I could swear I felt someone watching me. I wasn’t ready to get caught alone in a dark corner with yet another person who despised me.
"Careful, treat the books badly, and the banshee will wake up." Moira pulled out the chair next to me and flopped onto the seat, somehow still seeming as graceful as a prima ballerina.
Today her hair was fire and spice, with dark cherry red roots gradually lightening to flame yellow at the tips. What had been a sleek blonde and blunt cut at her shoulders only yesterday now fell to the small of her back.
"Nice wig," I said, not paying her warning any heed.
"It's not a wig. This is all me, babycakes."
She tugged on the end of her hair.
"How? I thought magic wasn't allowed here."
Rolling her eyes, she muttered, "Newbies," before leaning in close. "In class, maybe. But they have no say in what I do when class is over. Besides, when I’m not on school grounds, I want to look good."
My eyes must've widened because she laughed loud enough to earn a stern glare from the librarian sitting at the desk.
"They just let you leave?"
Another laugh escaped her, this one quieter. "They don'tletme do anything. But what they don't know won't hurt them. If I couldn't escape this place, I would go full cuckoo's nest within a week."
"Don't they notice you're gone?"
Shrugging, she toyed with the flaming end of her hair. "As long as the tuition is paid and I come back with all my appendages, they don't care."
"I'm coming with you next time."
She flashed me a brilliant smile. "Of course you are. You're my main bitch now."
Nodding, I reached for another book, this one about the history of the war between angels and demons. As thick as it was, it must've weighed fifteen pounds. At least.
"So, I know he hates you and all, but do you want to explain to me what the hell is between you and Kingston Farrell now?"
Alarm ricocheted through me, starting in my chest and ending as a cold pit in my belly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, that man is looking at you like he wants to kill you... right after he fucks you to within an inch of your life."
I followed her gaze up to the balcony that spanned the second floor. Sure enough, Kingston leaned against the polished wood railing, eyes blazing with heat and menace as he pinned me with his stare.
"It's nothing. I told you, just a stupid grudge."
"Nope. You don't get to brush this off. You have tea, and I'm ready for you to spill it all over."
I flicked my gaze back to where he'd been standing, but he was gone. The energy he’d radiated stayed behind, though, humming through my veins.
"Our Families have been at odds since before I was born."
"Of course they have. Every person here is the designated tribute of one of the Families. I don't think any of them really get along."
"Yes, well, Kingston and I were supposed to... bring the Fallon and Farrell packs together."
"Wait.Thatwas the rejection you were talking about? You're his mate? No fucking way."
I winced. "Could you keep your voice down? I'm sure neither of us wants the whole world knowing what happened."