“Are you staying or leaving?” the driver asks, his voice sharp.
“Sorry.” I open the door and step out.
The air is acrid, and no amount of breeze coming in from the sea can dissipate the stench of burning.
I wrap my arms around my middle and force myself to take one step in front of the other as I round the corner and turn into Sydney Crescent.
Crowds of people gather in the garden square, surrounded by firefighters and police officers. Half the cars on the street have been moved to make way for engines. Sure enough, when I look in the direction of the fire, it’s the professor’s house that’s ablaze.
“You can’t come down here, Miss.” A large man steps into my path.
“But this is where I live,” I say.
He sweeps his arm to the garden square. “If it’s relatives you’re worried about, all the residents are gathered over there.”
Even if the dead body wasn’t Professor Segul, then someone probably tried to kill him and he escaped. He’s too clever to stand around, waiting for the arsonist to call for reinforcements.
I still wander around the square, looking for signs of him before taking an Uber back to the campus gates.
As I pass an alleyway, a large hand clamps over my mouth, and a strong arm lifts me off my feet.
ChapterForty-Eight
PHOENIX
My instinct is to thrash within my captor’s arms, but the wind comes in from the direction of the sea, blowing away the stench of burning. In between the sea breeze are hints of the professor’s scent.
Mahogany, leather, sandalwood. Hope thrums in my chest like the pitter patter of cherubs’ feet. Could it really be him?
I turn around to catch a glimpse of his face, but he’s moving too quickly through a narrow alleyway that runs down the side of one of the villas. If his hand wasn’t clamped over my mouth, I would say something, but it’s obvious he wants me to stay quiet.
Forcing down my instincts to fight or flee, I inhale a calming breath and wait.
We’d better not be heading toward the back of a van.
After he rounds a corner, we’re in a paved walkway bordered by tall, wooden fences. This is the space between Sydney Crescent and Adelaide Grove.
He finally sets me on my feet but pushes my back against the fence post.
The visor on his baseball cap obscures his eyes and a bandana covers the bottom half of his face, but I recognize the contours of Professor Segul’s body, even with a gray hoodie and matching sweatpants.
“It’s you.” I reach up to the bandana, but he grabs my hand.
“I told you to stay away from the Bestlasson boy.”
My gaze dips. “I didn’t know you had something planned.”
“Look at me.”
My eyes snap up to meet his, which are obscured by shadow. Even so, their gold highlights burn through me like rings of fire. A mix of emotions are etched in those irises. Grief, fury, betrayal. My insides twist at the thought that he’s directing them all at me.
“Professor Segul, I’m—”
“Don’t speak,” he hisses.
I gulp.
“When I give you an order, you will follow it. Is that understood?”