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The second the words leave her tiny red lips, my stomach flutters strangely. A wave of euphoria rushes through my veins.
Crap on a stick.
A quick check of the courtyard reveals the censor is gone.
Nonono—
“Stand up, you dull little mortals,” a horribly familiar female voice orders. “It’s time for a game.”
Inara Winterspell. Any hope I have left that we’re not totally screwed dies a quick death at the sound of her cruel voice. The entire courtyard full of shadows jumps to their feet at the exact same time, including me.
“Ruby,” I call. “What’s happening? Why didn’t my necklace protect me?”
“Sorry, Kid.” The concern in her voice scares me. “Your soulstone can’t protect you when you willingly consume the magic.”
“It will be okay,” Mack assures me, but I don’t fully believe her. Nothing’s ever okay where the Fae are concerned.
Inara strolls through the tables, shadowed by what’s left of the Elite Six. Kimber wears a black veil against the spring sun that partially obscures the vampire’s feline golden eyes and chin-length black hair. Lyra, positioned to Inara’s left, looks both ferocious and stunning, her caramel mane of hair falling over tawny, athletic arms.
Only Inara could make both a lycan and a vampire submit to her command.
While Reina and her twin boy toys stroll around filming, Inara’s twin, Bane, busies himself toying with the mortal shadows.
My blood boils as I watch him pick up a plate of pink frosted donuts and force a first year shadow girl to shove them down her throat until she pukes. All the while, his face is transforming into monstrous faces meant to terrify the first years, who haven’t yet been told about his creepy gift.
The only silver lining to this whole situation is that I can’t move. Otherwise, I would have already throat punched Bane and earned myself the Six’s attention.
Not that I’m deluded enough to think they’ve forgotten about me . . . but a girl can dream.
“What?” Inara purrs. “Did you really think we couldn’t control one human censor? That you were safe now?” Her unnerving frost-colored eyes sift through the crowd until they find me, and freezing fingernails scrape down my spine. “Dance, monkeys, dance!”
I glance down at my arms and legs, both awed and horrified as I watch them twist and leap like some drunken Faerie.
Mack’s eyes are huge as they meet mine. The terror in her expression contrasts against the joyful way she spins and sways. Our bodies collide as we move faster. Spinning and spinning and spinning—
“Stop.” Inara’s command freezes us in place. I’m breathing hard, sweat pasting my tank top to my ribcage. It feels like my heart will beat right out of my chest.
The wolf pendant burns against my flesh, powerless to help me.
Inara’s focus hones in on me. Oh, goody.
I can tell by the murderous anger in her eyes that she hasn’t forgotten about me.
If anything, our months apart have only stoked her hatred to the next level.
What’s the saying? Absence makes the heart grow more stabby?
Her seven-inch crystal heels spear the grass between the cobblestones as she stalks this way. It’s like a repeat of last year, only now—despite all my training—I’m at her absolute mercy.
Frustration slams into me. I try to ball my hands into fists, to move even an inch, just enough to look intimidating, but I’m frozen mid-dance—arms out like I’m about to fly.
As soon as Inara nears, the others smell blood and converge. Inara smiles sweetly at me. Her hair seems bluer somehow, a dark ultramarine that’s pulled into a high bun, and her skin shimmers with ice crystals, as if she’s literally made from snow.
Blinding frost-white teeth flash as she smirks. “Wow, so brave to come back after your humiliation last year. Or, wait. Did you think your little prince would save you?”
I glare at her, my tongue loading up curse words that my frozen lips fail to deliver.
Dammit!
