Evermore Academy (Evermore Academy #3) - Audrey Grey Page 0,13
green hair and fragile iridescent wings, I know I’ve won this battle.
I’m no longer the shiny new toy in the room.
His wicked gaze never leaves the Fae girl as he murmurs, “Out of my sight, little pet.”
I should be relieved, so why do I feel seconds away from vomiting? But he’s looking at the Spring Fae as if he wants to snap off her wings and hear her scream and—
No. Not your problem.
I hesitate, torn between taking advantage of my lucky break and warning his new victim. But Mack grabs my arm and yanks me from the room, one of my sandals nearly falling off.
When we’re out of earshot, she whisper-hisses, “Stick to the plan.”
“But—”
“No, that Fae knows Hellebore’s reputation. She’s from his court, and Fae have been raised from birth to recognize danger. You can’t save her, but if we play our cards right, we can save thousands of mortals.”
More like millions. I run a hand through my wavy locks and exhale. She’s right.
This is our opportunity to dig deeper into Hellebore’s private life.
On cue, Eclipsa peels away from the shadows cloaking the far hallway and jerks her head to hurry. The sleek dress hugging her athletic body reminds me of molten silver. The slick material glints as she glides into the sunlight, her seven-inch platform heels impossibly quiet.
“Fae ears,” Mack breathes, running her hands over her arms as we jog, “I hate it when she does that.”
I hardly hear her. Anticipation laces my blood like a drug.
I forget the poor Fae girl.
I forget Hellebore and his sadistic whims.
I forget that right outside Inara has her arms around my mate.
My entire focus rests on one goal—find Hellebore’s secret and destroy him.
6
Eclipsa’s dark gaze scrapes over me like acid before snagging on my cover-up. “What in Titania’s name is that?”
“A cover-up?”
One delicate silver eyebrow arches.
“I didn’t want to attract too much attention,” I explain, hugging the wall as we round a sharp corner and plunge deeper into Hellebore’s beach compound.
Eclipsa scoffs, her half-moon pendant earrings performing mini-circles on either side of her sharp chin. “Don’t be silly. Bad fashion always attracts attention.”
“She does have a point,” Mack concedes with a traitorous grin. That smile goes full-watt as Eclipsa looks over Mack’s dress and nods approvingly.
“This is your dress,” I remind her.
“Yeah, and I’ve only worn it once, to the Marcus Garvey public pool after our rooftop pool closed for maintenance.”
Only Ruby defends my style. “My master is a goddess and anyone who disagrees deserves to have their defective eyes plucked out and crammed down their lying throat.”
I pat Ruby’s tiny head. Normally I try not to encourage Ruby’s violence, but today is an exception.
She hugs my neck as I plunge recklessly down a modern set of floating stairs. My flippies slap the sleek wood. “I’m not here to impress, remember? I’m here to destroy this mother trucker.”
Shock makes me halt as I catch the curved sickle-blade in Eclipsa’s hand. “Darling, revenge is best served in a designer dress.”
There’s no doubt this is her revenge against Hellebore. Not that she wouldn’t be here anyway to help Valerian and me—but she might not look so gleeful about it.
Mack is the last to descend. I try not to gloat too much as her designer heels struggle to navigate the polished stairs. We all halt in front of a steel-reinforced door.
Locked.
I crack my knuckles. “Time to find out if my theory is right.”
Over the summer, we learned some interesting things about my abilities. The magic I borrow stays with me after its owner has gone. It doesn’t seem to matter how far away they go—I can usually conjure the same amount for a few hours.
The more powerful the energy, the longer I can use it.
My mother’s magic, for instance, stays with me for just over a day.
I haven’t tested Hellebore’s magic yet, but the theory goes that all the locks in his residence recognize his powers. It’s like a signature.
One I’m hopefully about to forge.
Eclipsa stabs a stiletto into the marble floor. “Any day now, Summer.”
Before I can ponder what happens if I’m wrong, my fingers wrap around the metal handle. It’s cold beneath my fingers. The soft hum of powerful magic caresses my bones.
Who are you?
My eyes snap shut as I let the energy I felt from Hellebore earlier seep out. I am the dew on a spider’s web. The wilted leaf of a honeysuckle. The prick of blood from a bramble’s thorn.