Page 24 of Shadow Caster
The party wasin a clearing in the forest behind the Academy that everyone had dubbed “the grove.” The cadets of the Academy had used the grove for generations, and even though the gatherings weren’t authorized by administration, everyone knew they turned a blind eye to the merrymaking.
We slipped out from the hulking shadow of the Academy building and joined the train of students dressed in jeans, flats, T-shirts, and fancy tops heading into the forest. I’d opted for sneakers, dark jeans, and the cerulean halter neck Minnie had lobbed at me. I’d pulled my hair back into a French braid, added a lick of gloss and a dash of mascara—my tribute to makeup.
Minnie looked hot in skinny jeans, ballet flats, and smoky eye makeup that brought out the emerald in her eyes.
My gray eyes were unremarkable in comparison. Heck, I’d never relied on my looks, though; my smart mouth was what got me places.
And here we were, slipping under the canopy of trees into the cool confines of the forest. The aromas of earth and flora filled my head, and then we were running, weaving through the trees toward the grove. Howls rose up on either side of us. Wolves on a run. Free, wild, and natural. The nightblood beneath my skin surged to the surface, and with a challenging glance Minnie’s way, I broke into fast mode.
The world whizzed by with the scrape of leaves, the slash of branches, and the exhilaration of the chase. Minnie was on my tail. She was fast, but heck, I was faster.
I leapt over a log and landed on the edge of the grove. The sounds of the party wrapped themselves around me—music, laughter, and the distinct aroma of poppy seed cigarettes, a favorite of the feyblood.
Minnie joined me a moment later. “Damn, Indie. You’re rocket-powered.”
“Yeah, shoved one up my butt before we left the dorm.”
“Don’t look now, but Thomas is heading over.” She moved closer to me. “If he mentions the damned test, I’ll nut him.”
Thomas stopped a few feet away from us, hands in his pockets. “You okay?” he mumbled.
Wait, what? Had I just heard right? “Who are you, and what have you done with the intolerant nightblood called Thomas?”
He gave me a smile and opened his mouth to say something.
“Hey, Carmichael, you gone over to the dark side now?” someone called out.
I looked over his shoulder to see a group of nightbloods holding drinks. Carmichael and Hartwood lads.
“Nah!” Thomas backed away from us as if we gave off toxic fumes. “Just checking out the freak show.”
I shook my head. “And there he is.”
Minnie snorted. “Sheep.” She linked arms with me. “Come on, let’s get a drink.”
Alcohol didn’t affect supernaturals the same way it did humans, but it did give us a warm buzz. It made the world a little softer. A trestle table had been set up to one side, and we wove our way toward it, past half-naked grinding moonkissed and necking nightbloods. Past feybloods in lip locks and toward sanctuary.
How many of the guys here would be with us tomorrow, and how many will have been shadow marked and shipped off to the shadow cadet wing?
“Shit, these things get steamy,” Minnie said as we reached the table.
Several bottles of lethally strong vodka were lined up on it with neat piles of plastic cups.
I grabbed a cup and filled it. “Horny supernaturals on a full moon.”
“And bitchy supernaturals on the prowl,” Minnie said. “Harper alert.”
Oh, great. I turned to find Harper and her posse descending on us. Tonight they were dressed in various shades of green. They looked good, and plenty of male heads swiveled their way, but Harper had eyes only for Minnie. She stopped a little way away and said something to her girls. They turned and melted into the crowd as she approached us.
“Hey, Min, you look good,” she said. “I was hoping we could talk.” Her gaze slid to me then back to Minnie. “Alone.”
Minnie tensed. “If you’re here to apologize for the way you spoke to Indie then I’m happy to chat. If not, then we have nothing to talk about.”
Harper crossed her arms, and for a moment, there was a look of vulnerability on her overly painted face. She glanced over her shoulder to where her posse was mingling and then fixed her eyes on me.
“Look, I’m sorry if I offended you. But you know what I said was true. Youarea criminal. You’re here because you have to be, not because you want to be. You don’t even care about being in the Nightwatch.”
Her words, which would have been like water off a duck’s back a day ago, hit home hard. She was right. All of it, and in that moment, I saw myself through her eyes—an uncaring, snarky woman who’d come in and stolen her friend.
