Sauter (Ironside Academy, #3)

Elijah: Save your bossy voice for Isobel. You’re going to need it.

Theodore: What? What does this have to do with Isobel?

Gabriel: Ah. Yes, that makes sense.

Moses: We’ll be the judges of what makes sense.

Moses: After you explain everything to us.

Gabriel: The club is trying to recruit Isobel. If she asks Kalen to be her sponsor, she can shadow him to all his engagements, even the private ones. If some rich cougar was hoping to get her claws into Kalen by spending a small fortune on a few hours in a private room with him, Isobel’s presence will prove disruptive.

Cian: So? What’s so bad about that plan?

Kalen (admin): That wasn’t the plan.

Elijah: The plan was a little more comprehensive.

Gabriel: Okay, never mind. I’m with Kalen on this one.

Theodore: No need to get comprehensive.

Moses: Can we go back to a few minutes ago when Gabriel was actually wrong about something?

Gabriel: No.

Elijah: If Kalen changed his act, we could mitigate all risk. I think the comprehensive plan is better.

Oscar: Isobel Fucking Carter is a virgin Sigma who still can’t meet our eyes while she’s talking to us half the time. She isn’t in the same league as a Shibari bunny.

Moses: Bunny, huh?

Gabriel: Awkward.

Elijah: Freudian slip, Oscar?

Oscar: I’ll Freudian slip my fist through your teeth.

Oscar: As soon as I’m done with Gabriel.

Kilian: Where are you right now?

Oscar: In Gabriel’s room.

Niko: What the fuck, Gabe. You let him in?

Gabriel: He was being loud. And I never touched Isobel. He has nothing to break.

Kilian: Then what is he doing?

Gabriel: He’s currently standing in the corner, glaring at me, and trying to figure out how I could possibly have anything to do with Isobel touching herself in the shower when I wasn’t even there.

Mikel (admin): For crying out loud, Oscar. Don’t make me come down there again.

Oscar: I haven’t hurt him yet. Everyone keep your panties on.

Moses: Speaking of panties. Want to search Gabe’s hiding places while you’re in there?

Theodore: Isobel isn’t ready, Kalen.

Kalen (admin): I know.

Elijah: You could get her ready.

Kalen (admin): I know.

Niko: But you won’t, right?

Kalen (admin): I need to get a better gauge of where she stands with all of this. She already asked me to be her sponsor.

Kilian: Don’t push her.

Kilian navigated out of the chat and flopped back onto the couch, staring at the shadowed patterns on the roof. Isobel was in good hands with Kalen, and they all knew it, but there were parts of the club that even Kalen couldn’t protect her from.

Things were getting more complicated … but a weight had just been lifted off his chest.

He didn’t usually keep secrets from them for so long, but he had thought it would be better if all their focus was on protecting Isobel.

He should have realised they already knew.





Isobel woke up an hour before her alarm was set to go off, her mind buzzing. She checked her phone just to make sure nothing terrible had happened while she slept, and then she snuck into Kilian’s bathroom to get ready for the day. She was halfway out of the dorm before she paused, remembering that Mikel had ordered them to go everywhere in pairs or groups.

Thankfully, Elijah also seemed to be an early riser. He padded out of his room in rumpled sweats and mussed hair, heading toward the stairs leading up to the kitchen before he turned, pinning her with a look, his nose twitching.

He assessed her quickly, before mumbling, “Give me a minute,” and disappearing back into his room.

He re-emerged dressed for dance practice, his bag slung over his arm, and met her at the door. “Where to this early? You don’t have practise for an hour.”

“I thought I’d check on Sophia and Luis.”

“All right.” He pushed the door open, holding it and nodding for her to go first.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked as they reached the stairs.

She felt awkward trying to make small talk with him, but he didn’t seem to suffer from the same problem. He peppered her with polite, surface questions until they reached the chapel, where they both stopped short inside the doorway. The Guardian, Maya, was vacuuming around the dais, an old set of headphones strapped to her head, her foot tapping absently. She stopped when she saw them, shifting the headphones to her neck and turning off the vacuum.

“Carter,” she said, her tone surprised. Her steady, gold-ringed, mahogany gaze moved to Elijah. “Reed, is it? I apologise, my son is a big fan, but I don’t keep up with the show much.”

Elijah only reclined his head a little in acknowledgement.

“Maya Rosales.” She wound up the vacuum cord and strode over, sticking her hand out to Elijah.

“A pleasure,” he said, pretending not to notice her hand. “I’ve heard … things.”

“A sceptic, huh?” She chuckled, amused by his cool reception, before turning her attention back to Isobel. “What brings you here this morning? Have any other artefacts appeared?” Her eyes darted right to Isobel’s chest, even though the chain was hidden by her over-large shirt.

“Nothing since Sophia and Luis last updated you,” Isobel answered blandly.

“I am a Guardian, Carter.” Maya’s lips thinned. “My children might have a knack for Gifted occult, but they don’t have my years of experience. Of course they consulted me.”

“And what do you have to say?” Isobel asked, crossing her arms.

The woman had only been polite to her, but it made Isobel extremely uncomfortable that Maya and her children were walking around with the knowledge that both of Isobel’s eyes had changed.

After Eve …

She stiffened, forcing the thoughts out of her mind to concentrate on Maya, who was pushing out little currents of anxiety to tease into Isobel’s chest. It felt different to when Isobel’s father bulldozed over her with his emotions, or when the Dorm A Alphas sent their emotions colliding against her body. This was softer, subtler, as though Maya was as practised as Isobel at keeping her emotions under lock and key.

Maybe she was.

Her entire occupation was maintaining a dead religion and a group of gods that most Gifted had long forgotten. She likely had to suffer just as much ridicule as Isobel did for being a Sigma.

“I think that the gods don’t bother with curses,” Maya answered. “But there is one god who must maintain the balance when the other gods go overboard with their gifts.”

Isobel nodded, trying to recall the name of the god Sophia and Luis had shown her.

“Stygian,” Maya supplied.