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Looks like my “fated mate” radar is coming online along with my shifter form.
Fuck me.
eleven
FORD
A mixtureof anger and fear fills Juliet’s gaze, and I haven’t even dropped the bomb yet.
It makes me wonder…
“How are you feeling?” I ask, second guessing if this is the right time to tell her what I learned at the brotherhood meeting in the woods. But if she’s already in a fiery frame of mind, maybe it should wait until morning.
“I’m fine,” she says, jerking her hand toward her wrist. “Didn’t hurt at all.”
“I meant with the shifting,” I clarify. “Are you—”
“I’m fine,” she snaps. “But you’re not supposed to be here. If you’re caught, you won’t be able to get any more behind-the-scenes information.”
“And it sounds like we need it,” Catherine says, coming to stand beside Juliet. “What’s the bad news this time?”
I hesitate, but after another glance at Jules—who seems to be relatively calm, albeit irritated with me—I fill them in on the bombshell Beck was so excited about. And he has every reason to be. If the current trial situation is allowed to stand, very few Variants are going to be accepted to Lost Moon this year, and some of them might end up dead for trying.
“They can’t do that,” Catherine says. “Coralie will see they’ve rigged the trials to favor wolves and put a stop to it. She has her faults, but she believes in fair play and has always been an advocate for Variants.”
“Coralie isn’t going to be back on campus in time,” I say. “Beck’s father is manufacturing a fake crisis that will keep her in Montreal, too distracted to realize what’s going on until it’s all over.”
“What about Natalie?” Juliet begins to pace, the way she always does when tackling a problem. “Can we go to her for help?”
“Probably not,” Catherine says. “She’s not on the trial board and they keep the details of the tests top secret until right before they start. The president is the only one briefed ahead of time.”
“What if we have proof things are rigged?” Juliet asks.
“What proof?” I challenge. “My word?”
Juliet shrugs. “Why not? She seems to like and trust you.”
“But she didn’t have the pull to override Coralie’s orders to the doctor about your implant,” I remind her. “I doubt she’ll have the sway to pull the plug on the board Beck’s father bribed and start fresh. Especially not in thirteen days.”
“He’s right,” Catherine says. “If Beck’s father has corrupted the trial board, the only person who could fix things in time is Coralie. And even she might face pushback. The board is packed with very important people.”
“Very greedy assholes is more like it,” Juliet mutters, pacing faster. “And just when I was starting to think things weren’t so bad around here. Most of the wolves and big cats I met at the luau seemed to have no issue with Variants.”
“Which is why the bad guys are doing what they’re doing,” I say. “Fewer Variants in this year’s class will automatically sway the population in favor of wolf rule. They’re looking to decrease the number of dissenting voices by whatever means necessary.”
“Bastards.” Catherine sighs. “Well, on that note, I’m going to bed. I always do my best problem solving when I’m asleep. I’ll talk to Alexander at breakfast and get his brain on the case, too. Surely, between all of us, we can come up with some way to even the playing field.”
“Sounds good,” I say, though I don’t have a lot of hope right now. Not unless they can figure out a way for the seventy percent of Variants with tiny animal forms to grow fives sizes in the next two weeks.
“You okay?” Catherine asks Juliet. “Do you need anything from me before I turn in?”
“I’m fine,” Juliet says, even as she continues to pace like a woman possessed. “Or at least I’m still in control. If I start feeling any weirder, I’ll put the locket on.”
Catherine nods, glancing at me as she adds. “Okay. Call me if you need me. And don’t stay out too late, Ford. Intrigue and foul play aside, you guys do have class tomorrow at eight. And those grades will count toward your final admission score. It’s not enough to outweigh a bad performance at the trials, but if you’re on the line, an A instead of a B in history and campus culture could be a lifesaver.”
I thank her and wish her goodnight, waiting until she’s stepped through the door into the stairwell to turn back to Juliet.
I’m about to ask her what kind of “weird” feeling she’s talking about when she snaps, “Stop looking at me like that.”
