Page 18 of The Teras Trials

The girl stops mid-chew and delivers me a sly smile and dramatic touch to her breast. The boy shifts next to her and tuts under his breath.

He says, “Well, well, Cassius Jones. What have you brought us?”

“Prey?” Victoria offers with a purr of her own.

Leo says nothing. They want to make him squirm; he is marked as a xenos, and they cling to their Londoner titles fiercely.

“Be nice, Bellamy,” I say, though I doubt Leo is even a little bit concerned. I urge him down with a gesture. “This is a friend.”

“Well, your friend is covered in blood,” Victoria says with a curious quirk to her brow. “But I suppose that won’t be uncommon soon.”

Bellamy’s smirk slips from his face. I feel the shift as well, and suddenly Leo is staring at me, waiting for me to reply. I don’t—deliberately. I want to keep him hungry. But secretly I’m interested, too. Victoria’s acting like she knows. And how could she? The University is a secret place. People don’t talk about it.

I shift my attention and focus on pouring Leo a drink.

“You like wine?” I ask

“Love it,” he says, without looking at me. He’s looking at Victoria now, that same look he was giving me. I grit my teeth, hot with a jealousy I have no right to have, and pour him a cup.

“Drink,” I tell him. “But don’t get too drunk.”

He stares at his cup as if I’ve poisoned it. “Why?”

“Just trust me,” I say, and I let our thighs touch beneath the table in the hopes that will distract him from Victoria.

Leo glances between me and the other two, and must see some seriousness reflected there because he sips at his cup in a cautious manner.

Introductions, then. I open my palm. “Victoria Zaki, Bellamy Taylor, I’d like to introduce you to Leo Shaw.”

“Hello, Leo Shaw,” Victoria says, deep Chicago drawl coating her words.

Leo frowns. “American?”

“Allegedly,” she says with a grin. Then, as if recognising the insufficiency of her reply, “Egypt born, America raised. Until I was six, anyway. My family emigrated. My father’s a scholar.”

“And you?” Leo prompts Bellamy.

He shrugs. “My father and eldest sister came here. Both graduated.”

“Family tradition, then,” Leo murmurs. He glances down at his palms, picking at a scabbed callous on one hand. No doubt he heard the pride in Bellamy’s voice. I can’t tell if he’s judging Bellamy, or jealous. I want to know what he thinks of me.

“Not much else for us to do,” Victoria says with a tight-lipped smile. “And we have a lot of motivation this year.” She gives me a meaningful stare, and I nod back. She relaxes a fraction, and so I do; we all got the same warning, I suspect. Anyone who fails this year will have their family removed from London.

Before Leo gets a whiff of this I say, “Leo’s from Southend. Answering the Call.”

“That’s a given,” Bellamy murmurs.

Victoria slaps his arm “Oh, he’s not that scrappy.”

“I wasn’t talking looks, beyond the blood and the xenos mark.” Bellamy raises both hands.

Leo stares down at himself with a frown, like the blood is a surprise. His face crumples and he shrugs, wiping the base of his nose with his forefinger.

Victoria is the one who asks. “Encountered some trouble on the way over?”

She doesn’t realise it, but I think Leo’s leading them on. This is all a game to him, and Victoria and Bellamy are already a little tipsy when they shouldn’t be. They’re so full of nerves that both are vibrating, but the superiority is palpable. Leo is no threat to them. Leo is cannon fodder at best.

Then he says, “Androphagus,” so casually, sipping his wine, and I watch the other two freeze. I decide my nerves are shot too and light that cigarette I wanted earlier. Elbows on the table, hand scratching my forehead, I puff away as Leo drops, “Or manticore, as Mr Jones called it.”

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