Page 35 of A Dusk Of Stars

Smiling and wide-eyed, some of them nod and some wave, but they immediately leave, closing the door behind them. I take my seat.

“So,” Bane starts. Without getting off the desk, he reaches for a folder behind him and starts perusing it, making me wonder what’s going on. Is that…

“Anna Novak, 29 years old, born in Croatia,” he recites. Then he looks up at me to ask, “That all correct?”

I guess itismy student file. And I guess we’ll be doing questions again. Only this time, I remind myself, I’ll be trying to tell the truth and I won’t be blocking my animal.

“Yes,” I say with a determined nod.

That seems to please him, but I’m busy feeling the presence rise to the surface, making my senses sharper. How is it thatthistime, I only have to decide not to block it?

Bane looks down at the file again. “And it was four years ago,” he keeps going, “that you first arrived to work as the Librarian here. Correct?”

He’s still looking down at the file, giving me the opportunity to scan his face. But the presence seems to want me to inspect him a lot more closely.

He looks up at me, an eyebrow quirked. It's beautifully shaped, just like his nose and his lips, this sharpness in their lines making them interesting, not just attractive.

Shifting, Anna,shiftingis your focus today. “Yes,” I reply, making myself refocus my thoughts.

“Before that, where were you employed?”

The question makes me frown, simply because it’s a question involving my past. But I find myself a lot less tense about it than usual.

My lips stretch into a smile. “Before that, I took a break to do some traveling.”

I guess it’s sort of true.

He squints at me. “Yeah? Where’d you go?”

“Ah,” I say with a wave of my hand, “I ended up mostly hanging around the hotel pool.” When I see the suspicion in his eyes, I give him a shrug and a smile. “What can I say? They had mean cocktails.”

To my misfortune, he doesn’t move on from this. “Hotel?Not hostel?” he insists. “So it wasn’t exactly a budget vacation?”

I’m still feeling more relaxed than ever answering questions like this, but it doesn’t make it smart. “Wow, ‘hostel’, ‘budget’,” I start a little mockingly. “I thought rich people didn’t have words likethatat their disposal. Is that why you agreed to come teach here?” I raise my eyebrows at him in fake sympathy, failing to resist the urge to poke at him. “Your gambling empire turning to dust?”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he quips, “but it’s only growing stronger. Also,I’mthe one asking questions here.”

“You are,” I murmur, still smiling, “but I’m starting to notice they’re all personal questions that have nothing to do with shifting.”

Something flashes through his eyes. “They are,” he says with this devious little smile. “Very basic personal questions, Miss Novak. So imagine my surprise when I couldn’t find answers toanyof them, at least not before your arrival to Grimm Academy.”

The words and the smile make my bubble burst. I sit straight. “And where did you expect to find them? In that student file?” I ask with a laugh that I hope doesn’t sound as awkward as it feels.

“Sorry, um, I seem to have misspoke,” he says, obviously feigning confusion, before he leans a little forward to pin me with his eyes. “It was my usually highly efficient and incredibly expensive team oftrained professionalsthat couldn’t find answers to any of those questions.”

For a second, I just blink at him, watching his lips curl into a self-satisfied smile. Then, when the realization starts hitting me, so does the anger.

Quickly, I lock the presence away and grit out, “You had PIs try to dig up dirt on me?”

“Not ‘dirt’ specifically. More like…” He shrugs, that smile still dancing on his lips. “Anything.”

“And why would you do that?”

He lets out a scoff. “I’m on a mission here, aren’t I? Until I get you to shift, I’m obligated to come to these classes. So I need to know stuff about you. It’s not like you’re being an open book with me, is it?”

For a second, I just stare at him. It’s not fair, because my past doesn’t concern anyone, let alonehim. It’s not criminal and it has nothing to do with my shifter side.

I force myself to calm down so as not to raise any further suspicion, but there’s an underlying threat in my voice when I say, “Alright, here’s what we’ll do.” I lean a little forward, sliding my forearms down my desk. “You’ll stop wasting my time with these questions and you’ll start with the actual class. In return, I won’t report you for violating my privacy like that. How does that sound?”

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