Page 43 of Wicked Court

Tempest’s smile is thin, almost rueful. “Cav looks for a beacon in a storm he doesn’t understand. The Heart is more than a simple treasure or talisman. If it were as easy as digging up a chest or prying open a vault, it wouldn’t have eluded so many for so long.”

I’m standing in front of him, feeling the weight of the hidden necklace like it’s suddenly ten times heavier.

“You’re hedging.” I cross my arms against my chest. “If you have proof the Heart doesn’t exist, just say it to me plain.”

Tempest continues, his tone turning serious again, “I may not be with the Court. But that doesn’t mean I’m any less informed. Or any less dangerous.”

I cut through the bullshit. “Then who are you with?”

“The Vultures,” he says, as simply as I asked him to answer.

It sends me back a step.

“We’ve been watching you ever since your brother’s funeral,” he says. “And trust me, Elara, you’re not the first to go looking, and you won’t be the last. But you should be the wisest.”

A shard of ice cuts into my chest. “Why are you mentioning Maverick? Did you know him? What were you doing at his funeral? How did you know him?”

My questions come out in a cold rush, my heart frantically cracking through the deep-freeze of my soul.

Too many strangers are mentioning my brother’s name. Too many enjoy dangling his death in front of me like a fucking carrot.

Tempest withdraws, his expression hardening. “Not everyone gets a warning. Consider yourself lucky. I’d hate to see history repeat itself.”

“What are you talking about?” My cry is close to scream as Tempest slinks into the forest.

I give chase, my vision blurred with hot tears. “Answer me!”

The only response is nature telling me to go home with a biting wind and a burst of purple martins leaving their shelter for the night.

“I don’t scare that easily!” I yell.

But I’m alone, with only the echo of his warning whispering through the trees.

Chapter 16

Axe

I hate crowds. Each shout from the quad or pack of students trampling by causes a wince before I shuffle deeper into the crevices of TFU.

Away.

Usually, I take my classes via video streaming in my room. The dean allowed me to listen to lectures via video streaming as soon as I was accepted into the Court. One of many powerful benefits given to us as members, almost as mighty as the punishments administered.

This morning, I’m strictly prohibited from attending through my computer camera. It’s less embarrassing when I’m able to pause and transcribe the lecture, then repeat a sentence out loud three times before it finally fits into my head.

I’ve been assured multiple times that I don’t have to take exams, attend classes, or even lunch hall. My graduation with top marks is a guarantee by the Court. But nothing in my life is granted so easily, and I refuse to let my inability to concentrate be a crutch. I will graduate under my own rules and earn those top grades. Others may see me as a liability, but I know that I am not.

Take today, for example. I share two classes with Elara: one with Cav, Wilder and Kaspian, and one where it’s just me.

Guess which one I’ve been ordered to personally attend?

I’m not the only one skulking around her, either. As soon as I step onto the path to the Media Building, two sets of mismatched eyes track me from the other side of the quad. Wilder and Kaspian both give me measured stares as they lounge on a bench, one with an arm slung over the backrest, one with his legs stretched out in front of him. They look like they don’t have a care in the world.

I know better.

It takes every ounce of self-restraint to keep my stride casual as I walk past them. Not that it matters. Wilder can smell weakness a mile away, and he’s practically salivating at the idea of making my life difficult.

I just have to get through this semester without him deciding he hates me enough to go higher than me on the Court’s food chain. Cav can be... persuasive, but even he has his limits where Wilder is concerned. And I don’t want to find out what happens when he exceeds them.

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