Page 93 of Demon Found

The dean glances at me, eyebrows raised. “The question really is, did sheknowshe was suppressed?”

“Of course, she knew!” Camille stamps her foot. “You need to see what she did to Belinda. She’s unstable, she should be expelled and destroyed. Or at least sent to the Collectivo lab for . . . analysis.”

What the fuck? She’s admitting she knows what goes on in those hellholes. If she knows, Farrell knows. My tail lashes back and forth, sweeping a stack of papers off the dean’s desk. It’s enough to snap him out of his bemused state. He straightens, glowering at me, before turning to the remaining bouncers.

“Send the guard. I want two of them searching Miss Smith’s room. And I want two more here for when Miss Smith wakes up. After that, you may return to the Wailing Moon. I want camera footage of the incident on my desk by the morning.”

That’s overkill. Lorelei is harmless. Mostly.

Chapter Forty-six: Lorelei

Myheadlollstothe side, my neck entirely incapable of holding it up. A wave of weakness washes over me and I let out a whimper. My focus fades in and out. Where am I? Is that the dean? Why is he in my room?

I screw up my eyes, then force them open. The room into view for a few seconds before it slips away. Shit. Not my room. The dean’s office. Why is the dean’s office sideways? That’s not right. It’s me, I’m sideways. I’m lying down in the dean’s office. A charred smokey scent drifts into my nostrils and I’m slammed back into reality.

Fuck. Chano had that bitch drooling all over him. I reacted, attacked Belinda, then . . . then I couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t rein my power in. It took over. How did I get here?

“It would take an ascended and very gifted upper-level demon to create that kind of suppressant. To hide hergenus. There’s no doubt she’s demon. You can clearly see now. Look, she has the rings.”

Fingers pry at my eyelids, forcing one eye open. A bright light shines in my face. Groaning, I grapple ineffectually with the fingers, shoving them away.

“She’s waking up. We can ask her.”

Is that Professor Maggo?

“Time to wake up, Miss Smith.” I flinch away, forcing my eyes open, pushing myself to sitting. The dean. “Drink this.”

A cool glass is pushed against my lips. Cracking them open, I take a cautious sip, allowing the liquid to roll around my parched mouth. It tingles, sending a searing heat down my throat.

“Now. The truth.”

“It’s not like she has much choice. You just gave a barely conscious teenage girl a truth serum without her consent,” Professor Maggo grumbles, other voices joining in. My hearing wobbles in and out. Everything acutely loud, then whisperingly quiet.

“I did what was necessary,” the dean barks. “Miss Smith, focus. You will tell me the truth.” The compulsion in his words hammers into my mind, forcing my tongue to twitch.Shit.

“Did you know you were a demon before tonight?”

I blink at him, mouth dropping open. A smile plays at the corner of my lips and, before I can stop it, I’m laughing. Great hiccuping sobbing bellows of laughter, and I can’t stop. Tears run down my face, and I can’t breath for chuckling.

He’s deadly serious. I can tell by the frown. But me . . . a demon? Really? Has someone slipped him some SupeZ?

Taking deep breaths, I stare around, trying desperately to get myself under control. A crowd of concerned faces peer back at me. My allegiance. They’re here.

“Answer the question.”

“I . . . I’m not a demon,” I hiccup, then the drug takes over and my tongue works by itself. “I didn’t know I was a demon before tonight.”

I slap a hand over my mouth.

“I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m not a damn demon. Are you crazy?”

I glare around the room, challenging the sympathetic stares coming in my direction. What the hell? I’m not a . . .

Why were you hiding, chica?The words Chano spoke earlier echo around my head. My hand drifts up to touch where my wings would be and the memory of a horn poking out among the feathers slaps me in the face.

I swing upright, alarmed, stumbling. A strong arm hooks around my back, and I sag into a muscled torso. Wood smoke billows up my nostrils. Chano. I bury my head in his chest. He’s not mad? He doesn’t hate me for hurting Belinda.

“Belinda?” I croak out.

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