Page 77 of Shadowed Fate

“Did you see that in one of your little premonitions?” I scoff.

“No.” Tiernan sighs. “It would take a fool not to figure that out.”

Before I can do something he’ll regret, like slamming my fist into his jaw, I turn and walk away.

Chapter 33

Brigid

I step into the auditorium and my jaw drops. This isn't some dingy high school gym with squeaky bleachers and the stench of teenage sweat.

No, this is pure excess .

Towering columns flank a stage that could rival Broadway, intricately carved with scenes of different creatures battling each other. Tiered seating rises in a perfect semicircle, each row draped in deep crimson velvet. The ceiling soars impossibly high, adorned with frescoes that make the Sistine Chapel look like finger paintings.

"Damn," I say under my breath, but even so, my voice echoes slightly in the cavernous space. "And I thought our school assemblies in the gym were fancy when they put up crepe paper streamers.”

I shudder, thinking of those assemblies. School spirit days were not my thing.

Students file in around me, their chatter a dull roar. I force myself to move, to blend in, even as my skin crawls with the weight of unseen eyes. The Council members are here somewhere, ready to judge us all for Dean Charling's murder. Ready to judge me.

My gaze darts from face to face, searching for a friendly one. I spot Callen, Rory, and Tiernan sitting together near the front. Callen's eyes meet mine for a split second, and the ache in my chest flares anew.

I veer away before Tiernan and Rory see me, choosing a seat as far from them as possible. Let them have their boys' club. I'm done trusting pretty men.

"Brigid," a silky voice says from behind me. "Sitting all alone? How fitting."

Of all the seats in this goddamn auditorium, I manage to plant myself right in front of Laria and her pack of vultures. Just my luck.

I grit my teeth, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response.

The murmur of voices fades as a figure takes the stage. I lean forward, straining to hear over Laria's deliberate whispers. The council members are talking about what is happening with their investigation into Dean Charling's murder.

I’m trying to hear the speaker’s words, but Laria's voice drowns them out, her voice tinny and dripping with venom.

"Look at her, pretending she doesn't know anything. We all know what your little shadow tricks are capable of, don't we?"

I clench my fists, nails biting into my palms. Don't react. That's what she wants.

"...still seeking information," the Council member drones on, his voice barely audible over the commotion behind me.

"Hey, freak," Laria hisses, kicking the back of my chair. "I'm talking to you."

My jaw tightens.

I risk a glance over toward the guys, catching sight of Callen. His eyes are fixed on our row, his expression thunderous. Is he glaring at me or Laria? I can't tell anymore.

I spin around, ready to tell Laria to shut her mouth, but the words die on my lips. Nester, a quiet redhead from my Temporal Distortions class, slides into the seat next to me. His eyes are glazed, unfocused.

"Nester?" I whisper.

He doesn't respond, doesn't even look at me. A chill runs through me as I see Laria's smirk over his shoulder.Fuck. Has she compelled him? Nestor’s a fire elemental.

I try to turn to Laria, to tell her to quit whatever stupid game she’s playing, but my arms won't budge. Invisible bonds hold me to the chair. Panic rises in my throat as I struggle against the magical restraints.

"What the hell are you doing, Laria?”

She leans forward and I can smell her stank breath. "Oh, sweetie. I'm just getting started."

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