The Culling Trials 3 (Shadowspell Academy #3)(20)

“I need to work on better decision-making when choosing my partners.”

At the bottom of the stairs, we turned toward the back of the mansion, retracing my steps the night I’d seen Gregory taken. Flashes of the scene rolled through my head. I tried to summon up information about the men who’d taken him—their stature, the bulge of their lean muscle as they struggled to contain him, the plain shoes they wore. Images rose of possible body types, what they might’ve looked like, what their magical talents might’ve been. Not vampires, surely. They’d been much too coarse in their movements. Yes, I’d seen a wand, but only in the hands of one of them. Not Shades, either, unless they were lower on the scale. They’d looked too human to be goblins or trolls. Shifters would be stronger, well able to handle a half-pint goblin like Gregory. But a necromancer or someone who didn’t use strength and speed in their craft might fit the bill.

My eyes cut sideways as we reached the back door, noticing Colt’s lean muscle against Ethan’s more robust body.

“Do you work out, Ethan?” I asked, following the curve of his bicep with my gaze before eyeing the size of his thighs.

His bored amusement spoke volumes.

“It’s just that,” I hurried to say, ready to die if he thought I was interested in any way, “spell workers don’t physically fight, right? Where’d you get all the muscle?”

His chest puffed up slightly, preening at the notice. “I lift.”

“Right.” I drew the word out. “But why bother? You do all your defensive fighting with a wand. I haven’t seen you throw so much as a single punch.”

A smirk graced his lips. “Don’t you like your men fit? Or are you more the dominatrix type?”

My face annoyingly flamed red. “So that’s why, then? Body image issues?”

His smirk broadened into a knowing smile, his ego of steel deflecting my light jab.

I glanced toward the trees where I’d last seen Gregory. Memories flooded me, of Rory’s lips pressed against the shell of my ear, quieting me, of fingers tapping against the pulse in my neck. I remembered the feel of his solid strength as we cried against each other about Tommy.

I blinked away the tears and gritted my teeth. I had surviving to do.

“There,” Colt said in a hush, grabbing my elbow and jerking his head to the left. “Near the portables. See him?”

Even with the distance, I could recognize him moving with the grace of a predator, his hair cropped short and his posture straight and strong. No suit adorned his muscular physique. Instead, he wore the sweats we all did, larger to fit his heartier frame.

Adam. And he was far, far away from his desk.





Chapter 8





“Is he trying to blend in?” I asked, an incredulous giggle escaping me. Adam was huge next to the students, both in stature and in presence. How could he not be noticed near the rundown portables? “He’s like a wolf wandering around a pack of poodles and trying to act like he’s tame.”

“Poodles are actually very intelligent dogs,” Ethan said, still sauntering for all he was worth, but a little less gracefully, now. A little more on edge.

Good. He was taking this seriously.

“Intelligent, sure. Trainable, definitely.” I let Colt lead me, his instincts right on. If we veered from our path, we’d get noticed, especially since Adam had just looked around to see if anyone was near. He was up to something, clear as day. “But adept at stalking prey and then ripping their throats out? Probably not.”

Adam went up the steps and stopped at one of the portable doors. His hands pulled up in front of him and his head was lowered as he worked at the knob. It had to be locked. It wouldn’t be for long.

“Whose portable is that?” Colt asked, quickening our pace as we reached the line of portables in front of us. “Ethel Wiseman?”

“No idea,” Ethan replied. “We didn’t get friendly with the neighbors the night we stayed.”

No, we just stole their food.

“Who’s Ethel Wiseman?” I asked.

Colt slipped in between the buildings with incredibly light feet. He sped up to a jog, staying close to the buildings so he could duck into the small alleys between at a moment’s notice. It’s exactly what I would’ve done had I been leading. Just like the way he’d slipped in and out of my bedroom window without any of my guard dogs noticing. “Are you sure you’re not a Shade?”

“His mother is a Shade,” Ethan said with condescension ringing through his voice.

“I didn’t get any of her magic,” Colt said, his step faltering. “But I noticed how she went about certain things. It’s common sense, if you think about it. How to sneak up on someone.”

“It’s lower class,” Ethan murmured.

I rolled my eyes, so many arguments springing to mind that my tongue locked. Now wasn’t the time, anyway.

“I heard Ethel was approached after the trial yesterday,” Colt said, slowing before looking back the way we’d come. His eyebrows lowered, and it occurred to me that he didn’t know how many portables separated us from Adam.

I stepped around him, taking over, and resumed the jog, albeit slower. We didn’t have far to go.

“I thought you guys must’ve heard about that,” he continued. “The guys in my dorm were talking about it last night. Robby’s girlfriend heard it from her friend Sarah, who heard it from Ethel first hand. She got asked to skip the rest of the trials and asked everyone’s advice.”