Page 94 of Shadebound
“The Salem serial killer’s going to pick us off one by one.”
“They said it was an accident—do you believe that?”
“Not a chance. Look at her throat. It has to be a vampire or something.”
“Who’s next? Who do you think’s next?”
“We’re not safe here. None of us.”
The words landed sharp, but my brain couldn’t hold onto them. Every time I tried to string them together, the thought broke apart and scattered. Fog pressed behind my eyes, heavy enough to block anything but fragments.
The room fell still when heels clicked against the tiles.
Hightower strode through the doorway, her white feathered wings unfurled in a slow sweep behind her. They caught the light, gleaming in stark contrast to the black bag at her feet. She looked down at the body once, then up at the cluster of us.
“Use the showers,” she said, her voice cool, calm, commanding. “Or move on to your next lesson. There’s nothing to be concerned about. A suicide, perhaps. An accident. Nothing more.”
The crowd shifted uneasily, murmurs dying as her gaze cut through them.
Her eyes found me. A slow, cruel smirk touched her lips as she tucked a lock of white hair behind her pointed ear. “You look like you’re settling in wonderfully, Miss Draconis.”
I dipped my chin once, jaw locked tight.
A hand closed around mine—Zayden. His grip was steady, pulling me toward the other section of the showers.
“Come on,” he said low. “We need to get cleaned up before the next lesson.”
I let him drag me, the sounds of whispers and dripping water trailing behind. He stopped near the sinks. I leaned over one, turned the tap, and splashed cold water over my face. The sting cut through the fog for a second, but it didn’t wash away the image of ginger curls and lifeless eyes.
The Salem killer. Picking us off one by one.
I tried to follow the thought, tried to dig into it, but it slipped away again, dissolving as fast as it came. My head was too heavy. My chest too tight.
Steam fogged the mirror as showers ran behind me. Letters formed slowly as I tilted my head, blinking multiple times to be sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
Games are boring when you’re the only one playing.
My fingers curled tight against the porcelain. The urge to smash the mirror flared sharp in my chest, a clean burst of anger cutting through the fog for a heartbeat. Instead, I pressed my palm flat to the glass and dragged it across hard. The words smeared into streaks of condensation and disappeared, leaving only my blurred reflection staring back at me.
Water dripped from my chin. I wiped it with the heel of my hand, shoved damp hair back off my face, and blew out a sharp breath that didn’t do a damn thing to steady me.
Zayden stepped closer, his voice low. “You good there, Heartache?”
I gave a short nod, still watching my reflection as I answered something randomly so he wouldn’t ask about my feelings again. “I don’t know how to work out the riddle. I’m stuck.”
“That’s okay,” he said quickly. “Don’t worry about it—we’ll figure it out together. We’ll make sure everything’s okay.”
I glanced at him, caught the crease in his brow, the way his hand flexed at his side like he wanted to reach for me. He stepped in closer, close enough that the heat of him cut through the damp chill of the room.
“I just want to be sure you’re okay,” he said, softer now. “That’s all. The riddle can wait. The other stuff can all wait. I just need to make sure you’re not… not too unhappy.”
My throat tightened. I forced a shrug. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I’ll figure it all out.”
He searched my face like he didn’t buy a word of it, but he didn’t push further as I turned toward the rows of showers, shoulders stiff, the body bag still burning at the back of my skull.
My tired, empty skull, that I wanted to smash open against the wall. Perhaps then I would have found out what was wrong with me.
Field Journal — Entry #121 - Classified
