Page 7 of Immortal Sins
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Humidity rolls offthe stone walls of the restricted section. The day is unseasonably hot, and the stacks of books reek of mildew and loneliness. Mrs. Pembrooke probably spent the whole day casting dry spells to spare the precious, brittle pages of the most coveted and important tomes in the realm.
The wings at the librarian’s back twitch as she approves the list of books I requested, most of them part of Beth’s collection. “Don’t be fooled, I know what you’re doing.”
My shoulders tense. “Sorry?”
“There is no uglier crime than killing a unicorn.” She inches closer and lowers her voice. “Were you really there when it happened?”
I’ve been asked about that night more times than I’ve got hairs on my head, but coming from Pembrooke…
“I can’t believe he did it.” The leopard-print glasses slide down the tip of her pointy nose. “He was always such a gentleman.” With that, she flies up the staircase.
I head to my usual table. A black uniform jacket is sprawled over it, and I search the stacks for the intruder. Everyone knows this is my spot.
Trent appears, holding a pile of books to his broad chest. “Hey.”
A tinge of fear pinches my belly, but his garnet eyes do not betray a hint of thirst. “Hey.”
The books land on the table with a soft thud.
“Can we talk?” he asks.
With a quick nod, I sit on the stool across from him. The shorter haircut somewhat strips him of his carefree, rebellious vibe, and his anti-dress code leather jacket is nowhere to be found. The roundness of his cheeks isn’t as pronounced as it used to be.
He drums an absent-minded pattern on his knee. “How are you? Really?”
“Wretched.”
He scans the empty stacks. “Are you nervous about the trial?”
In another life, Trent and I might have shared secrets with each other, but I keep a neutral expression on my face.
He smacks his lips and traces a line in the wood with his nail. “I can protect you, you know.”
I roll my shoulders back.Protectme? Last time Trentprotectedme, he tried to have me expelled for a crime I didn’t commit. “You told me yourself you couldn’t be seen with me.”
“My father is a dick. I didn’t have much of a choice, but it’s over now.” He puffs his chest. “If we hung out more, I’m sure the other students would back off. The stupid Fae is gone, Jules. It’s in your best interest to distance yourself from that disaster.” No matter how altruistic he tries to make it sound, the hard edge of his voice drips with contempt.
“I’m sure being your girlfriend would help myreputation.” Ever since their father was elected, Mel and Trent’s popularity and overall sway over the other students had skyrocketed.
He drags a tired hand over his face. “You think this is what I wanted? The press is constantly breathing over our shoulders. Melanie’s affair with Flynn made the front page of Witch Tales last week. And that horrible primordialist woman basically lives in my house.”
The last part grabs my attention.Horrible womandescribes Allie’s mother to a T, and while they now belong to the same political party, I didn’t think Piper was close to the new President. “Piper?”
“Yeah, she’s the worst. And it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that he’s banging her.”
“Your dad…and Piper Davenport?” I repeat.
Trent purses his lips in disgust. “Ick, I know.”
The cringey instinct to dismiss the internal images that flash in my brain at the mention of the two of them together gives way to a ticklish buzz. Theodore Darkwood and Piper Davenport… She’s such a hypocrite. The last few years, she often denounced on national TV the damages that vampire feeding does to our fragile cohabitation with humans.
I guess that was before Darkwood embraced her rotten party to steal the election. Piper’s ambition knows no bounds. If she somehow got into the President’s ear—and pants—what a scary thought…
Trent scoots closer, and the stool’s legs scratch along the carpet. “How is your dad handling his demotion?”
I keep my poker face on. “He got elected.”
