Page 66 of Faerie Marked

The killer was a shifter.

No one but a shifter could have kept up with me, especially not when I let my own wolf out to play. And he’d stunk like one of my kind.

Hehadto be the killer, because no one else on campus had a reason to chase me, to single me out. Because I’d gotten the top spot and like an idiot left myself open for an attack by walking alone at night. Reason enough, right?

Still, why would someone put in time and effort to kill off probationary first-year students? It didn’t makeanysense to me. I leaned my head against the stone and winced, clutching my books tighter to my chest. Dear God. Someone wanted to kill me.

Did this mean there were more shifters hidden at the academy? And if there were, then how did they avoid detection? The only other one I knew about was the detective assigned to the case. Wilson. But he hadn’t given me any other vibe beyond disgruntled and maybe a little pissed off. Also, the scents didn’t match. He certainly hadn’t seemed like a killer.

Then again, appearances could be deceiving.

Losing track of time, I caught my breath then followed the hidden passageway back to my dorm room, and climbed into bed still shaking. No one commented on the cobwebs decorating my hair. Not even Persephone, much to my surprise. She stared at me long enough that any other night I would have felt uncomfortable. Tonight, I just didn’t care.

Ducking my head to hide, I crawled under the covers and fumbled around until I found the two remaining vials of potion from Barbara.

One left, now.

I thought about it as I swallowed the contents down the hatch, watching my skin crawl and shift and dull my shifter nature, like crawling beneath a hot, wet wool blanket. The potion didn’t take my fear with it, sadly. No,thatwas left to me in its entirety. Apparently, my body and mind wanted me to have the whole experience of being afraid.

One vial and too much time until the end of the semester rolled around. I needed to at least make it to next weekend, when I had days off and could leave the campus.

With what car?

I’d junked the Toyota and wrote it off as a loss. Maybe I could ask Mike—

My jaw locked.No.I refused to ask him to drive me anywhere, let alone bring him near Barbara. Or the rest of my pack. He’d have too many questions. I didn’t want to be beholden to him, anyway.

I fell into a dreamless sleep and woke with the sun. Melia found me soon after I showered.

“There’s a party the upperclassmen are throwing tomorrow,” she began excitedly. She’d cornered me in my dorm so I had less of a chance to tell her no and make an excuse to escape.

I shrugged into a clean shirt, Melia standing near the windows with her gaze purposely averted. “A party for what?” I asked.

“To celebrate not getting cut from the school.” The way she said it told me I should have known already. “The upperclassmen throw one every winter around this time. It’s kind of one of those things that’s grown and grown until even the staff know the Friday night after the lottery is reserved.” She pushed herself onto the desk beneath the window, tucking her knees under her chin. “You know how it goes.”

“I guess I do,” I joked. I didn’t want her to know. I was afraid. Afraid to be around so many people with a target painted on my back. “A party could be fun.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course it will be fun. This is my fourth one and I can tell you it’s a pretty low-key affair but there’s always something exciting. Basically, we all use this to blow off a little steam and socialize. It’s like a break from the rigors of classes. There will probably be alcohol. It seems like most of the upperclassmen have the off-campus hookup and use it to dazzle the rest of us.”

I liked how even though she was in her fourth year Melia didn’t lump herself in with the rest of her upperclassmen. “I like the way you think.”

I grabbed my hairbrush, running it down the length of my still-damp hair. My school blazer hung on a peg near my bunk. After braiding the strands, I reached for the jacket, sliding my arms home.

“You’ll come?” she pressed.

What could it hurt? Maybe it would givemea chance to blow off a little steam. And surely no one would try to come after me in a room full of people. There would be too many eyes, too many witnesses, too many bodies to get in the way of making a clean kill.

Which made the party one of the safest places I could be, really.

“Yeah, I’ll come.”

* * *

I managed to squeak through classes on Friday even with my attention fractured in every direction. Later, with the moon riding high and me ducking low to avoid its light, I followed Melia into one of the upperclassmen common rooms wearing our “casual clothes.” She had on black leggings, offset by a rich purple sweater hanging down to mid-thigh.

I felt like a bum in comparison. I’d gone with a light-gray long-sleeved t-shirt and a black skirt, plus my ever-present ratty Converses.

She pushed open a door on the second floor to reveal a brightly lit circular space decorated in verdant greens and natural browns. A plush leather sectional sat in the center of the room facing a massive fireplace with a mantel made of carved wood.

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