Evermore Academy (Evermore Academy #3) - Audrey Grey Page 0,100

for their hygiene—”

“Is it safe or not?” I interrupt.

“Nothing will eat us inside,” she amends, wrinkling her nose. Honestly, how is she picky at a time like this?

“Perfect.” In a few hours, the spring air will drop, and then we’ll all be thankful for any shelter. Although I’m hoping by then Mack has found reception and we’re back at the academy. I shut my eyes for a moment and imagine sipping hot chocolate in the safety of my little cottage. Bane and the others will be halfway to prison by then, because in my fantasy the school authorities actually care when the Evermore try to kill us.

A girl can dream.

I’m still mired in my fantasy, although it’s moved on to Valerian and only one bed, when a thought occurs.

The darklings wouldn’t leave our trail unless they had a reason. What if that reason is Inara?

No.

I shake my head, trying to dislodge the thought, but it burrows deeper.

No. Her fate at this point is not my concern.

Sighing, I lift to a crouch and slide around the ledge. From here, Whitehall looks so close, a beacon of hope I can almost touch with my fingers. The others will be looking for us. At least with Inara missing there’s a higher chance that they’ll look longer before giving up.

I lower my gaze to the ruined landscape below. Maybe Inara made it back already. Maybe she’s already telling the teachers to come get us.

There’s more hope that Ruby will suddenly swear off candy, but I have nothing left except irrational, unlikely hope.

I exhale and start to turn when motion close to the base of the cliffs catches my eye. Darklings are pooling around something.

Something with bright aquamarine hair wearing silver and navy blue clothes.

Frick.

Pretend you didn’t see her. Pretend she’s not there.

But I can’t. I just can’t. It’s not in me to leave someone to die—even if they are the epitome of evil and deserve a thousand horrible deaths.

“Mack,” I whisper. “Mack!”

She sneaks over, ducking low. “What? A search party?”

“If only.”

She follows my gaze to Inara surrounded by darklings. Gasping, she shakes her head. “No. We are not helping her, Summer.”

“You don’t have to, but I am.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “Because I’m not like her. Everyone keeps telling me to be ruthless, embrace my Fae side, but this is who I am. She might be my enemy, but I can’t let her die knowing there was a chance I could save her.”

Mack releases the world’s most dramatic sigh. Then she settles beside me, loads a bolt into her crossbow, and takes aim. “I only have thirty bolts.”

“Same.”

Neither of us mention there are well over sixty darklings. But maybe, just maybe, we can fight them back long enough for her to join us.

Sitting, I press my back against the cliff face, steady my crossbow on my knee, and take aim for the nearest darkling rushing Inara.

The broadhead iron bolt tip sparkles like a falling star as it streaks toward the chaos. It lands with a horrible thunk in the forehead of the nearest darkling.

“One down,” I murmur, reloading my crossbow.

Mack’s aim hits true, another darkling falling beside Inara. “Didn’t know this was a contest.”

I snort. It’s always a contest with my overachieving bestie.

Both of us go silent as we focus on the task at hand. It almost feels like a video game. Load, aim, shoot, repeat. Inara’s too far down to make out her expression, although I’m not naive enough to think she’s overly grateful. But slowly, we push back the surge of darklings, allowing Inara to reach the cliff’s base.

Once there, she scales the almost sheer face with impossible speed, showing off her Fae strength and balance.

Mack and I watch her climb past us without a word, as if we didn’t just save her life.

“No, no,” Mack snarks, holding up her hands as she addresses Inara. “No need to thank us for single-handedly saving your life and wasting nearly all our weapons in the process.”

“What?” Her head snaps back.

Mack’s dark eyebrows crawl up her forehead. “You are aware those projectiles didn’t fall out of the sky, right?”

“Oh, thanks.” She turns to examine the cave, her nose wrinkling like Ruby’s earlier. “Is that troll poop I smell?”

“Let me throw her over the edge,” Mack pleads, totally serious. “She can be our sacrifice to the face-muncher god.”

“One, that’s not a thing, and even if it was, that would be like feeding a bear. And you’re never supposed to do that because then they associate that spot with food