Evermore Academy (Evermore Academy #3) - Audrey Grey Page 0,15
looks just like you, Moon Girl.”
Along with her newfound curves, Ruby has adopted the viewpoint that anyone less than a size six is starving.
Eclipsa growls, swinging her crescent-shaped dagger at poor Ruby. Ruby squeaks and flits out of the way. But her new curves come at the price of being slow, and she barely avoids Eclipsa’s blade.
Before Eclipsa can decorate the bleached white walls in my sprite’s blood, I wedge myself between them, shooing Ruby toward the ceiling.
“We don’t have much time so let’s concentrate on the photos of human girls.” I cast a look at Ruby, who’s pouting high above, before holding Eclipsa’s dark gaze. “Okay?”
“Fine.” Eclipsa plants her hands on her hips and throws a glance behind her. “I recall that the other two walls only feature Fae subjects, but that one might have what we’re looking for.” She lifts one hand up and examines her pristine nails. “The photos on that side are new.”
We find what we’re looking for almost immediately. It shouldn’t still surprise me how different Fae and mortals look, but it does. The girl captured in the photo is the only human featured in the entire gallery. Just like Eclipsa, her image is different from the others. Her back is turned, dark golden hair hanging tangled and unkempt.
Even with her face hidden, I recognize the sadness in her limp shoulders. She sits staring into the gorgeous fountain from the Spring Court gardens, except in this image the blight has yet to ruin the landscape.
Mack’s mouth twists as she examines the image. “She’s surrounded by all that beauty and yet, she looks seconds from drowning herself in the fountain.”
“Hellebore has that effect.” I study the portrait, desperate for any clue that could help us. “She doesn’t look afraid, though. Just . . . deeply sad.”
“Do you recognize her from any of the pictures?” Mack asks.
Both of us have studied the stolen student files of missing girls so many times that we can recite their bios and features in our sleep.
I shake my head in frustration. If we could match the girl to one of the academy students who left abruptly, that would be a link to Evelyn and something firm to go on.
Eclipsa has been strangely quiet.
When I glance her way, I’m surprised to catch metallic silver threads of magic snaking from her fingers into the image. “What are you doing?”
“A scent spell. Hopefully. It’s been a while since I performed one.”
Mack and I exchange confused glances.
I inhale sharply as the magical threads actually enter the photo. They swirl around the haunted figure, moving faster and faster. A bright pop of light illuminates the photo, and then the magic returns to Eclipsa, diving straight into her . . .
Nose.
My confusion turns to full-fledged bewilderment as Eclipsa shuts her eyes and inhales deeply. Her eyelids snap back open.
She hisses. “I’ve smelled this mortal before.”
“You can smell her from her picture?” I clarify.
“What about a scent spell is hard to understand?”
“Fair point.”
Eclipsa glares at the photo with newfound bitterness. “After my tragic mistake of a relationship with Hell, we avoided one another. But there was this one party when I drank too much Faerie wine and decided to remind him of what he was missing.”
“You didn’t erase that from your memory?” Mack bravely teases. She’s definitely letting her guard down around Eclipsa more these days, which is both brave and foolish.
“Erase?” Eclipsa asks, a naughty smile twitching her lips. “For all his many, many faults, sex is not one of them. He does this thing—”
I throw up my hands. “We don’t need details.”
“You sure?” She waggles her eyebrows.
“Positive.”
“Fine. After all the fun was had—and there was a lot”—more eyebrow waggling—“I noticed a noxious female smell clinging to him. A mortal female scent. It seemed odd considering he’s never found your kind even remotely attractive.”
Her nose wrinkles in distaste to drive home the point.
“You think this girl . . .” My focus wanders to the photo again. “But she’s so young. Sixteen, seventeen at the latest.”
“Summer, you know Hellebore. Do you really think he would refrain from claiming what he wanted just because it’s skeevy and morally repulsive?”
Point taken.
A gloating smile brightens Mack’s face. It’s the same grin she has when she knows the answer in class. “Whitehall. She was a shadow at Whitehall.”
“That does make the most sense,” Eclipsa admits.
A sudden rush of hope pours into me. “What if—what if she was his shadow?”
My heart races. I know there are still a lot of what-ifs. First we