Page 18 of Wicked Court

“You mean the family heirloom? The ruby necklace?” Her voice trembles and turns husky.

“Yeah,” I intone.

Gram knows what I’m talking about without me explaining further, which is … suspicious.

I add, “I never saw you wear it. Why?”

“I don’t know, I just … never felt the need,” she says carefully. “It’s just a trinket from the colonial days, one of our ancestors who settled in Titan Falls.”

“Why does it feel so…” I finally give a word to the turmoil in my gut ever since the Untouchable Four approached me. “Dangerous?”

Gram doesn’t respond. If it weren’t for her devotion to proper etiquette, I would’ve thought she’d hung up without a goodbye.

“The settlers of Titan Falls,” I clarify. “There are other families that are still around, right? What can you tell me about the Nightshades? The Devereauxs or the Valentis?” Cav. Axe. Kaspian. I have no idea what Wilder’s last name is. “They were in Titan Falls around the same time, and I think they might be interested in?—”

Gram’s initially warm tone takes a turn.

“Elara, listen. You must never let anyone see it. You’re meant to keep it in your jewelry box growing dust.” She adds breathlessly, “It’s why we don’t wear it or share it with anyone else, not that you’d want to. It keeps the family safe.”

Safe? Like, magically? Then what about Maverick?

I clench the phone so hard my fingers whiten.

She continues, “It’s best not to ask questions, sweetheart.”

I ignore her. “What do you know about these families?”

Silence echoes through the line.

“Gram?”

“They’re not worth your time, Elara,” she whispers. “Look after it, love. Other than me, there’s no one else who can,” Gram warns before hanging up with a soft click of her landline.

Chapter 7

Axe

I stand alone on the small bridge leading over a lazy stream winding through campus, my gaze fixed on Elara’s distant figure as she exits Camden House, the girls’ dorms.

Her pinched expression says she’s too caught up in her own thoughts to notice me staring, but I see everything. That’s always been my way—watching, understanding, recording information with no need to be at the center.

Elara’s fast clip speaks of frustration. On the other hand, she’s holding herself with a surprising amount of poise, given the circumstances of what we did to this pretty girl last night.

I’ve always admired strength, and there’s an undeniable toughness to her, a resilience that goes beyond the superficial image she presents to the world.

As she heads into the arts building with a determined set to her shoulders, I can’t help but wonder about what secrets she’s keeping. She refused to tell us anything about the Heart, even after Cav played his mind games with her, we frightened her, and Wilder seduced her by fingering her against a tree. Even Wilder didn’t glean much, other than a bulge in his pants and an itch for this girl he’s now unable to scratch.

All that, and nothing to show for it.

Elara has to know something. You’re not both on the Sovereign’s radar and a founding family of Titan Falls if you don’t hold your fair share of terrible, blood-soaked secrets in your ancestral vault.

There’s more to Elara Wraithwood than meets the eye, and I’m unexpectedly intrigued. It’s a rarity for someone to pique my interest, but she’s done it.

I wait for the doors to the building to shut behind her before I make my move.

It’s easy enough to slip into Camden House in the morning because almost everyone has class and any RAs are in their rooms, enjoying the quiet floor while their demanding tenants are elsewhere.

I slip up the east stairwell to the second floor and peek through the fire escape to ensure no one’s loitering in the halls before I unlock Elara’s door using a simple maneuver with a credit card.

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