Page 45 of Faerie Marked

“Miss Alderidge?” the detective barked out, staring down at me and not liking what he saw.

Were my cheeks flushed? I swallowed hard and nodded.

With a sniff he gestured for me to follow him. “Come.”

I paused for the briefest moment.

“Well, come on!”

I jumped at the sound of his voice and poured on the speed, closing the door behind me.

Lean and sinewy, the detective moved with the supernatural grace inherent to shifters, a kind of predatory slowness coupled with a surety and confidence matched by no other species.

Clearly the detective had worked hard to cultivate a thuggish appearance. I could understand how the headmaster would underestimate him even if the man weren’t a werewolf. Still, beneath the loose cut of the jacket I noticed muscle and definition. Not a handsome man, but the detective defined masculinity from his black hair to his scuffed boots.

God, I hoped he sucked at his job.

He gestured for me to take a seat and I did so with as much poise as I could muster. Not much, as it turned out. I almost fell off the edge of the seat when I missed it by an inch.

“Miss Alderidge, are you feeling all right?” His nostrils flared. “Your heart is nearly beating right out of your chest and I can sense your perspiration.”

I tried not to tug at the white button-up shirt I wore beneath my school blazer. “I’m fine.”

“And you’re the one who found the body?” he barked. When I stared at him, the werewolf chuckled. “I apologize for diving right in. You’re my last interview of the day. I’m Detective Douglas Wilson, by the way, lead investigator on this case.”

I wanted to tell him it was nice to meet him but I couldn’t manage to force the words out. “How can I help you?” I asked instead.

“I want you to take me through everything from last night. We’ve heard from some of the others about the game you were playing.” He glanced down to consult a piece of paper in front of him. “A game of Capture the Scroll? From what I understand, your reflexes were better than your peers expected them to be. That is the singular consistent statement to all their versions of events.”

The rest of the blood drained from my head. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry to tell you they underestimate me in a number of ways. I’m not well liked.”

“Why, Miss Alderidge?”

I shrugged, uncomfortable with his attention. “I’m new. People who have already found their group of friends don’t usually take kindly to newcomers. Especially those who are half-human.” I tried not to stress the last word too much.

Detective Wilson continued to stare at me with his shoulders tense and his face giving nothing away. “I find it a little hard to believe. Your entire incoming class is made up of new students who surely do not all know each other. Why shouldyoube singled out?”

I shrugged again.Calm those shoulders!“Your guess is as good as mine,” I told him.

He wouldn’t even blink and a wave of terror crashed down on me. Was Detective Wilson able to smell me even under the effects of the potion? I had no way of knowing. The room was suddenly too small, too hot, the walls closing in around us.

“Why don’t you tell me everything. Take me through the evening as you remember it.” He grabbed a pen from his jacket pocket, setting the tip against a fresh sheet of paper. “Spare no detail.”

I walked him through my memories of last night, answering whatever questions he had no matter how strange they seemed. The clock ticked on and I noticed thirty minutes had passed. I’d missed the rest of my class.

He kept me longer than he’d kept the others.

“I think we’re done for the day,” Wilson stated finally, leaning back in the chair after another ten minutes of questioning.

“Okay. Thank you?”

Was it the appropriate thing to say in this kind of situation?

“If you remember anything else…call me immediately.” He slapped his business card down between us before standing. Cracking his neck with a single twist of his head. “You’re free to go.For now.”

16

Ilived on a diet of nerves and chewed fingernails, waiting for the first elimination of the semester to arrive.

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