Page 129 of The Wild Charge

“Hey, Cass!” Axelle interjected, nearly shouting. The room fell silent – Raven glaring at the interruption – and, in a softer tone, Axelle said, “You got into that really prestigious art clinic, yeah?”

Cassandra drew up, defensive, but said, “Yeah.”

“Is there a group chat for it? For everyone who got accepted?”

Raven’s face twisted, but Eden sent her a quick shushing gesture, which earned a glare. She kept quiet, though.

“…Yeah.” Cassandra’s gaze shifted, back and forth.

Axelle offered a disarming smile. “That’s cool. It gives you a chance to get to know everyone before the clinic starts.”

Cassandra looked even more suspicious. “Yeah. That’s the point of it.”

“You made any friends that way yet?”

“Bloody – let’s not be cute about this,” Raven snapped. “Cassandra, who’ve you been chatting with?” She held out her palm. “Let me see.”

Cassandra snatched her phone up and pressed its dark screen to her chest. “It’smyphone.”

Eden and Axelle traded a glance; propriety wasn’t exactly a denial of having said too much.

Raven stared her down with an icy fury reminiscent of Walsh. “Give it to me.”

The moment stretched before, finally, Cassandra wiped at her tears with an angry sniff, unlocked her phone, opened an app and passed it over.

Raven scrolled for a while, brows climbing higher and higher. “Kaitlin and Brandon. These are other artists in the clinic?”

Cassandra dropped her head, so her dark hair veiled her face. “Yes,” she said in a small voice.

Entirely too calm, Raven said, “Brandon, it seems, was especially impressed with the photos of the hotel.”

Eden sucked in a breath.

“Shit,” Axelle whispered.

Cassandra trembled, faintly. “They’re my friends. They’re students, like me. Not gangsters.” She sounded defeated and frightened, though. Not at all sure of her words.

“Photos?” Eden asked. She felt a little faint.

Raven stood and handed the phone over. And therewerephotos, plenty of them, everything from the barn at Briar Hall, to the inside of Ian’s jet, to the posh lobby of the Ritz. She’d kept her new friends apprised of her whole trip, their chat full of exclamations and emojis and “squee”s at the prospect of finally meeting in person.

Stunned, Eden slid the phone over so Axelle could look.

“Well,” Raven said, “now we know where the leak is.” She settled back on the bed with a calm weariness, but no longer seemed livid.

“They’re just students,” Cassandra sniffled, miserable. “They’re my friends.”

Raven touched the top of her head. “Darling, I wish that was true.”

~*~

A cushy chair and a glass of minibar whiskey went a long way toward easing Fox’s road stiffness. It was with no small amount of chagrin that he recognized he wasn’t as young as he used to be. He’d once been able to stay up all night, hugging a tree trunk with night vision goggles strapped to his face, drop down, fight ten guys, jog back to his bike, and be good for another full day of the same with only a little coffee and toast. Now his joints ached and his eyes were gritty.

They gathered in the suite’s sitting room, scattered across the sofas and aforementioned cushy chairs. Maverick handed around drinks and Fox glanced up as Ian returned to their gathering, Tenny in tow. A quick, sideways glance proved that Reese – seated on one end of a sofa beside Evan – lifted his head when Tenny entered, pale brows drawing together the barest fraction. Tenny carried a drink he hadn’t had before, and he looked a little less pinched in the face; he followed close at Ian’s heels, not aiming for personal space or any sort of charade. The corner of Reese’s mouth twitched down, and Fox wondered if he was worried, or maybe jealous. Perhaps worrying if he ought to be jealous.

The two split apart, though. Ian perched on the arm of Alec’s chair, who tried to get up and offer his husband the seat – for appearance’s sake, Fox figured; the Great Lord Shaman should have been the one in the chair, and Alec sitting accessory. But Ian waved him back down and organized his long limbs with a dancer’s grace, unbothered by the arrangement.

Tenny went over to the sofa, glanced flat-faced down at Evan, and said, “Move, shithead.”

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