Page 97 of Dragon Unleashed

I have to get through the rest of the school year. If I keep my head down, the gossips will forget I’m a so-called murderer. Until the trial. Or the next damn NewShift article.

Chapter Forty-four: Lorelei

I storm toward the quad. What idiot thought the person just out of prison should advocate for the school? The dean. The damn dean who thinks “it’ll keep me out of trouble.” Bollocks. Tell me there’s no time for coffee in the morning and send me at a bunch of stuck-up fae and prepare for a complete disaster.

A group of foreign students huddle at one end of the quad. Their dreary garb singles them out instantly. None of the rich silks and exotic fabrics the fae are renowned for, this uniform screams institutional. It’s almost identical to the jumpsuit I was made to wear in juvie, except for the cloaks. The biting wind catches the hood of the fae closest to me, and for a brief moment I see his pointy ears. He yanks the cowl back up and hunches his shoulders. They’re clearly miserable. Striding forward, head high, I clear my throat.

“Listen up. I’m your escort for today. I will be showing you around Fates Academy, giving you a taste of what you can expect next year.”

They form up, a solid wall of sullen faces staring me down.

“You might not want to be here, and I sure as hell have better things to do than play babysitter, but here-we-fucking-are.”

Someone laughs, but is quickly hushed by the others.

“You’ve got the next few weeks to cause trouble around here. Don’t do it today on my watch.” I lower my voice to growl but it doesn’t have the effect I hoped.

“Stinking mongrel,” a fae mutters.

“And we’re supposed to want to be like them?”

“I told you this is our best chance to get away…” a third joins in.

Okay, so maybe aggressive was the wrong way to go. These guys don’t look like they’ve been living the dream fae life. Who knows what the correctional facility is like. Itsoundsstraight-up evil.

“Do what you want,” I say, and suddenly I have everyone’s attention. “I’m not your keeper. My name is Lorelei Bal, and what I can do is make your life here easier. Follow me.”

I stride for the cafeteria and Mrs. Cocci’s baking, straining my ear for footsteps behind. I’m not as good as Silas yet, but I’m pretty sure I count ten pairs of feet trailing after me.

Once we’re inside, in the heat, with steaming drinks and flaky pastry goodness, the fae start to mutter among themselves. A fae with long lilac hair and a severe undercut steps toward me. His eyes are yellow flecked and burn with the intensity of the sun. His sallow skin can’t hide a faint scar spreading across his cheek and down his neck. He’s lithe, walking with the fluidity of a dancer, but his muscles are tense, ready to run, or pounce.

“Kai Grigori,” he announces with a flourish.

“Is that name supposed to mean something?”

The smattering of laughter from his peers makes him grimace.

“It’s probably better that it doesn’t,” he admits with a wry grin. I store that particular nugget away to ask Val about later.

It probably isn’t the tour the dean anticipated. I tried. I really tried, but it’s like herding cats. Very angry, combative cats. We got around half the academy before I gave in and took them to see Silas. That almost didn’t work. Only when I explained he wasn’t a professor but a seasoned warrior did they chill out. Then they were all over him.

Other than the café and Silas, the only places I’ve got them to without a fight today are the library and the Wailing Moon. Luckily Beck gave them a free round or that would’ve been a disaster too. How the hell was I supposed to know they don’t haveanymoney? Dammit, it’s not my fault they’re here.

I herd them toward the new squat building at the edge of campus, apparently their quarters for next year. I count them quickly; somehow I haven’t lost any yet. Good. They walk stiffly, in formation, always on the lookout.

“Oh look, the stinking fae and the murderer,” someone calls from up ahead.

Camille. Great. She stands in the middle of the path, hands on hips, blocking the fae from moving forward. I shoulder my way through the tightly packed group.

“Out of the way, Camille. Don’t you have something better to do than accost strangers in the woods?”

“I have better supes to be with, certainly. This bunch of outcasts is almost as scummy as you, professor-killer.”

I roll my eyes. “If you can’t think of better insults then you need to run along. Or maybe what happened to Allegra will happen to you.”

I take a large step toward her. It works. She flinches back, eyes going wide for a second before the sneer returns.

“You stick with your pathetic new friends, you psychopath. Stay away from Farrell.”

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