I sputter out what I know, growing with confidence as my anger gets the better of me. They’re trying to be all secretive, even after I’ve obviously let on that I know Chris is a girl!
“Tell me the truth,” I finally growl. “How the hell did Ivan find out who she really is?”
“We don’t know that he does.” The male agent lifts his hand like it’s no big deal. “Maybe he’s just taken her away to beat her up. You said he’s been bullying her.”
“And that makes it better?” I shoot out of my chair, fisting his collar and not giving a shit who he is. “She’s risked everything to testify against some asshole and you’re acting like it doesn’t matter that she gets beat along the way.” I lunge back, slamming him into the wall behind me. Rage is making me strong, terror for what Chris might be going through adding fuel to my inferno. “You’re supposed to protect her until the trial!”
“Hey!” He muscles me off him, shoving me back with enough force to create a decent space between us. “We researched this place. We made a smart move. We’ve been monitoring who comes and goes and there’s been nothing suspicious! As far as we’re concerned there are absolutely no ties that could link her with the accused or the family of the victim.” His eyes dip to the floor. A muscle in his jaw flashes me an I’m guilty sign.
The woman steps in front of him, crossing her arms and trying to intimidate me with an icy, cold glare. “If anything, her biggest concern was you. You’re the only one who knows what she really is.”
“Are you accusing me of something?” I seethe, baring my teeth like a rabid dog.
“No. I’m just suggesting that taking your anger out on us isn’t going to help anyone find her.”
“Now back off and let us do our jobs.” The tall guy pulls his jacket straight and dismisses me with a wave of his hand.
My death glare is ignored and Dean Hancock puts a swift stop to anything else I’m tempted to say.
“Head back to your room now, Trey. I’ll bring you an update as soon as anything new pops up.”
I stand my ground, my hands fisted at my sides.
“Mr. Calloway.” He deepens his voice to that low warning I know I can’t mess with. “Off you go.”
My upper lips curls and I fire two more glares at the agents before spinning out of the office. I don’t trust them. I don’t trust anyone…except Kade and Riley.
A breath snorts out my nose and I pick up my pace, running through the halls to my room.
I should have gone to them in the first place.
Out of all the people in this school, we care about Chris the most. Not because she’s a witness or some pawn to be used in a game, but because she’s an awesome chick who, okay…maybe I’m in love with.
The thought tempers my raging anxiety for a quick beat, settling in my stomach—a notch of truth to drive me forward and keep me focused.
“I’m coming for you, baby,” I whisper as I haul ass up the stairs. “I’m gonna find you.”
#33:
The Taloned Mistress
Christiana
The car slows and turns a corner. Because I’m lying in Ivan’s lap and he keeps forcing me back there, I have no idea what’s out the window. It’s night—that part’s obvious—but I don’t know the time.
I’m cold and stiff. Aching. Terrified.
Lurching to a stop, the driver turns and, in a low voice that makes me think of Wolverine, he mumbles, “We’re here.”
Ivan nods and pushes the door open. A cold blast of air shoots down my neck. There’s a faint smell of oil and industry on the breeze, but I can’t figure out where I am. The wind continues to thread beneath my clothing. I shiver but then can’t stop the shakes. My head thumps to the seat as Ivan gets out. I start wondering if I can somehow escape at this point, but with every part of me bound or gagged, I don’t even know where to begin.
Wriggling my wrists, I ignore my burning skin and keep fighting the holds. Ivan reaches back into the car, hauling me out and forcing me to my feet. I start to scream but my cries for help are cut short by a slap to the face.
“Shut up!” An icy female voice sends goose bumps rippling over my skin.
Jerking my head back, I hope my glare is black enough to show the platinum-blonde bitch what I really think of her.
She’s unfazed, grabbing my face and squeezing my cheeks. Her long nails dig into my skin. I taste blood in my mouth; the wound Ivan inflicted earlier has opened up by her rough inspection. She scrutinizes me with her pale eyes, and the shadows cast by the overhead lights give her a ghoulish quality.
“Are you sure it’s her?”
“Yeah.” Ivan nods. “Why else would a girl be stuck in a boys boarding school, right? She started at Eton just after the murder. The timing is too coincidental.”
“And you’re sure she’s a girl?”
Ivan smirks. “I did verify it, but you’re welcome to see for yourself.”