Reaching Answers (Artemis University #8) - Erin R Flynn Page 0,39

wasn’t sure. I had gotten a chance to get out what I’d still been feeling instead of pushing it down because I was embarrassed I still felt it?

It was a miracle I functioned most days when I was always so confused and tied up.

“No, she wasn’t, and fucking drop it,” Ray snarled quietly.

“Fine,” Neldor grumbled. “As long as she didn’t actually do it.”

I rolled my eyes. All of that, and he was still pushing to find out if I’d done porn to see if it messed up his plans.

I did swallow my next sip loudly. Wow, I was an actual princess and had almost done porn to survive. My life was so, so very fucked up.

Thank the gods that I didn’t, and for Mel. I rubbed my chest, missing her and in pain from how she was treating me and finished my juice.

“Tamsin?” Irma whispered when I stood.

“I’m—there are some journals I want to get to. I’ll—um, when—I can just—”

“I’ll bring you breakfast in the library, agra,” Darby offered.

“Yeah, you’ve got time before Larson’s here to work with you,” Lucca agreed. “Just go chill, kitten.”

“There is a message from Dean White you need to read,” one of the hobgoblins told me, nodding to an envelope on the table.

I frowned. What had been going on that she wouldn’t just text? Maybe she just wrote a quick note while here yesterday?

Everyone stopped what they were doing and focused on me as I went over to the table and read the note. And what I found didn’t make me happy. She was worried about the attitudes and auras at the havens, too many full of fear and other things. This new wave of shit against us and female supes was worrying them.

And scared, worried people did stupid things.

I agreed with her and that we needed to take steps. Quietly. This was not something everyone needed to be read in on and risk someone overhearing or problems later.

Which meant I was teaching White how to make my spy traps so she could either do them or teach me how to do them much better.

I really was never going to get a chill break. Fuck.

8

“What had you so upset about White’s note that you read it and immediately burned it?” a sexy voice with a British accent asked, stirring me awake.

I blinked up into Julian’s eyes. Another dream. I swallowed a sigh. Why was I having these? Because they helped.

Did they? Yes, but also they made me miss him more.

What he asked seemed like a safer topic and clearly, I was conflicted about it if I was bringing it up in my dreams. So I answered.

“She’s concerned about the mood at the havens and the mentality going around. She didn’t spell it out, but I know what she’s specifically worried about.”

“What, love?” he murmured as he pulled me to him so I was half lying on his naked chest. “Tell me so I can help.”

“Rub my back like you used to when I was upset, and maybe I will,” I whispered, closing my eyes and enjoying it more than I should when he did. “People are stupid when they’re scared, Julian.”

He flinched. “I know I was and I’m sorry how much—”

“I didn’t mean you,” I interrupted, tracing my fingers over his stomach. “I don’t want to talk about that tonight. I was answering your question. People are scared at the havens. Of course, they left everything they knew, but it was a chance for better and to be safe.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “And they think that’s all being threatened with these new attacks and crap. Fucking gits. I didn’t think of that.”

I nodded. “They’re vulnerable and terrified. It makes them ripe to be taken advantage of and not thinking of the consequences, too scared to care who they could hurt.”

“You think one of them might trade the locations for the brass ring,” he whispered in horror, swearing in some interesting combinations when I nodded. “How could they be such—”

“They’re scared and have been beaten down, Julian. Their fight isn’t over. It’s never over in this world. There are people who sell out all the time for a chance at an easy life. There are people we got safe and clean, and all they did was go back because being high was easier, even if they had to sell themselves. Being smacked around was fine if they didn’t have to figure out their own lives.”

“My heart aches for them,” he murmured, hugging me closer