Page 40 of Dead Wolf Falling (Bad Moon Academy 2)

Chapter 9

RAVEN

About an hour and a half passes while we’re in the cafeteria waiting for lunch. Some of the shifters are grumbling and fidgeting, obviously growing annoyed with the wait. Drumming my fingers on top of the table, I sigh and press my lips together.

“I’m so hungry,” Bea says, laying her head down on the table.

“I’m sure it’ll be ready soon.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, a low vibration flows from the floor to my feet, vibrating up my legs. The rumbling grows stronger and the buffet line rattles, the sterling silver pans and utensils banging around with the force of the vibration.

“What’s that?” Penelope asks from a few tables over.

“Good question,” I murmur, trying to lift my feet, but they’re stuck.

Would it be too much to ask for one freaking break?

Uh, are you asking me?Joan asks.

Oh, no. Sorry, I’m just thinking in my head because I don’t want to scream and scare people.

Is this another one of those tricks from the demon?

Must be,I say, chewing on my bottom lip.

Carter grunts. “I can’t move my legs.”

“Me either.” Adler leans back, but his feet don’t move from where the ground is holding them hostage.

“Jinx’s magic, I’m assuming.” Draco scowls.

“Look! The buffet!” Lincoln, the guy from my class with Ms. Fig, shouts.

Every shifter in the cafeteria swings their gaze to the food which has magically appeared. The rumbling subsides, and as soon as it stops, I can move my feet again.

“Thank the moon!” Lincoln rushes to the buffet line, bypassing the plates and going straight for a roll.

“Don’t, Lincoln! It might not be safe.”

He sneers at me. “We’ve been eating it for weeks now. I think you’re just trying to control us.” Taking an exaggerated bite, he chews and shakes his head. “See,” he says around a mouthful, “it’s fine.”

A few shifters exchange looks, but no one else gets up. I watch Lincoln swallow the last of the roll, washing it down with some of the tea which appeared at the end of the buffet line. He laughs and mutters about how we’re all paranoid idiots, all the while continuing to eat straight from the line of food.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” I say to the small group at my table.

“Let him eat it. He’s so determined to be right, let him see how hungry he’ll be in a few hours. Then maybe he’ll realize he needs real food and not her magic crap.” Everett leans his elbows on the table, rolling his eyes. “He’s the idiot.”

My lips twitch because I agree, but I don’t get the chance to respond. Lincoln starts to cough, having eaten too fast. Slamming his hand on the metal counter, he pounds on his chest with the other, trying to dislodge whatever’s stuck.

“Great, now I have to save him or look like an asshole,” Draco says. He uses his supe speed, flashing away from the table and over to Lincoln. He smacks the shifter’s back a few times, but it doesn’t help.

Lincoln’s face is tomato red now. I rise from my seat, wondering if I should go to help, but stop when Draco picks him up from behind and does the Heimlich maneuver. That’ll fix the problem.

Only it doesn’t.

Squeezing his hands into Lincoln’s stomach, Draco tries again and again to dislodge the food, but it’s not working.

“I should go—”

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