Page 167 of Every Shade of Shadow

I open my mouth to sing my praises, but my general lifelong disdain for authority figures has taught me to be smarter. These guys find out exactly how powerful I am, and they’ll take me away to work for them, or toss me into a box to test, maybe even throw away the key, so no, I won’t give them the full truth.

“It was Dam…Professor Darkwood,” I correct. “He was the one who put an end to Mortis. He did this knowing full well it might cost him his life.”

“But you’d been studying with the Professor, no? Privately?”

Keep it simple, short. “Yes.”

“Growing your own powers?”

“Which are still nothing compared to Professor Darkwood’s,” I correct.

Hargraves leans back. “I see. How about we start at the beginning, the night of the ball?”

I heave a long, deep sigh. “It was the witches’ ball. I suppose everyone was looking to have a good time, to forget. Things were fine until my friends and I—”

“Lily Evergreen and Ava Nightshade?” Hargraves adds, checking his notes.

“Right. We went to the bathroom to freshen up, heard the screams and came running to find… Well, you know what we found.”

“You hadn’t seen the Headmistress prior?”

“No.”

“And Professor Darkwood? How was his demeanor?”

“When he found basically half the student body murdered?” I laugh. “How do you think he reacted.”

Another smile, even slacker than the last. Hargraves places his cigarette down, looking to the other agent against the wall before returning his attention to me. “Look, Ms. Fairchild. I won’t keep you here any longer, won’t make you relive that night, but it will take a while to clean up this…situation,” he smiles. “It goes without saying the Academy will have to close for the time being. Having students around, those that are able, will only complicate the process.”

I don’t know where he’s going with this, but I’ll be damned if I’m leaving while Damien’s still up there. They’ll have to drag my pale ass out of here.

“And if I promise not to get in the way, to let you go about your business?”

“I’m afraid the decision has been made,” he says, leaning back. “Every student has been notified.”

I start to back towards the door with my hands up. “Well, no, you see, fuck tha—”

But a sharp prick against the side of my neck cuts me off.

I look to the agent who just jabbed me, who’s quickly stepping back like I might shadow-lance his head off.

I blink once, twice, the drug already taking effect.

“Really? Again?”

It’s the last thing I get out before my knees buckle and I lose consciousness.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

I come to with the warmth of my arm against my cheek. There’s a bit of discomfort in my lower back, but other than that I feel almost pleasant. At least until I see the small TV across from me and realize where I am.

I’m back in New York. Back in the apartment.

There’s no Academy, no castle.

I question whether that was all a fever dream, albeit a very long, very, very detailed dream, but I reach to my neck and find the tender spot where I was drugged—again—not to mention that low thrum of power that continues to pulse through me.

No, the Academy was no dream. Damien was no dream.

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