Page 2 of Inside the Wicked

Alistair’s manor is huge and impressive in its architecture. Tucked away in deep woodland on the edge of Washington, D.C., it’s not his main residence, but he’s taken a more permanent residency here while I finish my postgrad year.

My black boots clack across the marble and Shadow follows at my heel. Together, we’re a stroke of darkness. I don’t spare a glance at any of the men stationed around this manor I often spend more time in during the week than I do in my own apartment. They avoid my eye anyway, and I relish in the power of being Alistair’s protégée, his most prized possession, as it keeps every one of them at my command.

Alistair has made me use that authority several times before. He’ll stand by with wicked glee as I order them around like dogs. I ask them to fetch and they scramble at my request. I ask them to kneel and they hit the ground with heads bowed. It’s twisted of me to find satisfaction in it, but these people are all sick criminals, and I would gladly set fire to this manor and watch them burn within it.

Some might think I’m throwing my life away for nothing. That I’ve blackened my soul over one lost love. It wasn’t just losing Rhett that left me with nothing to lose—it was all that loss represented.Howhe was taken from me. The realization that this corruption will continue to spread like poison, and I have the chance now to push a blade between the eyes of the snake, once and for all.

I put on black sunglasses and step out into the sunny morning. The door to the black SUV is opened for me, and I slip into the back seat, letting the world drift by as my bodyguard, Tony, drives me. To his credit, he tries to be friendly. I can’t reciprocate. It doesn’t matter who is placed by my side—they only ever remind me every single moment that they aren’t Rhett.

He will never be here.

I’ve become numb to the routine of my university days, trying to engage with people as little as possible. Riley remains persistent, and there’s a small part of my heart left for her, grateful she didn’t give up on me when sometimes I can’t help distancing myself from everyone.

As I push my salad around at the quaint cafe we’ve come to for lunch break, my mind wanders every now and then while Riley talks on.

“I’m not going to be around much longer,” she says.

The quiet sorrow in her voice catches my attention, and I frown. Riley’s look is pitiful, like I’m the sad puppy she has to leave behind for vacation.

Then I realize . . .

“You got the placement at Keithlington?” I ask with the most enthusiasm I’ve felt in a while.

She smiles like she doesn’t want to gloat in my sad company, and that sinks me. I’ve been an awful friend. “I did,” she says, straightening in excitement. Then her shoulders fall a fraction as she takes a sip of her tea. “Though I wasn’t the only one.”

“Nolan Flynn? I thought they were only taking one student.”

“That’s what the placement said. I guess they changed their minds, and now I have a whole year of internship stuck with that insufferable idiot.”

My smile feels forgotten and foreign, but I endure the sensation for her. “I’m so proud of you, Ry. You’re going to kill it, and they’ll have no choice but to offer you a full-time job there once it’s over.”

Her eyes fall to her tea as uncertainty clouds her face. “Since there was only supposed to be one intern, they’ve said they’ll only offer one full-time placement at the end. It’s like I’ll never be free of the torment and competition of Nolan fucking Flynn.” She huffs, sinking back in her chair.

A laugh lingers on my lips, but like anything bright, it loses the fight to become whole.

“That’s it!” she says with a sudden rise in volume. Her hands hit the table lightly, rattling our cups. “We’re going out tonight.”

My mouth opens to protest, but her rising hand stops me.

“I won’t take no for an answer. I know where you live, and I’m picking you up at eight.”

“I’ll only bring the night down,” I grumble.

“I’m making it my mission that you have fun. You’reallowedto have fun, Ana.”

I appreciate my friend for trying—I know I would do the same for her. So I smile, though it holds no real enthusiasm. Riley seems to know it with her pitying look.

“And I demand you add some color to your style. You only ever wear black now, and I’m surprised your red hair hasn’t followed the trend.”

I’m in mourning.

I don’t tell her this. She won’t understand, and I don’t expect her to.

“I should get to class,” I say, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

Riley isn’t in this module of classical studies. I’ve fallen behind in class since everything happened, so this catch-up module is a result of that.

Tony lingers a table away, and he stands as I do.

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