Azure Dragons (Supernatural Shifter Academy #2) - G. Bailey Page 0,30

see the Academy executives already sitting in prime spots in the front few rows. It’s silent inside, and the talk seems to have already started; a moderator is in the midst of asking whether the shifters’ policy of secrecy is sustainable in today’s culture.

The three of us are relegated to one of the back rows, and I slide in between Hunter and Silas, my eyes wide as I watch the politicians below us. “That’s hardly the point, and you know it,” says one of the speakers, a dark-skinned woman in an impeccably tailored suit. “The discussion isn’t about secrecy—it never was—and I think questions about shifter culture is a diversion from the real issue, here.”

“With all due respect, Ma’am,” replies one of the older men flanking her, “the issues are linked. We have to face the fact that keeping the existence of shifters a secret from humans is becoming less realistic by the day. It’s only giving these fringe groups more ammunition against us.”

“And why should that be our responsibility?” pipes up another speaker. “We should be addressing how this information keeps getting out, instead of throwing the baby out with the bathwater.”

I lean in to Hunter as the moderator struggles to keep a hold on the increasingly tense debate. “Do you know who any of these people are?” I whisper.

Hunter’s brow furrows. “I recognise a few of them from my father’s meetings. The ones on the left look like some of the shifter representatives. I’m guessing the others are the human ambassadors.”

“They’re the ones with the leverage here,” Silas states flatly. It’s not a question. I can see his hands gripping his armrests tightly, and part of me wants to reach out and smooth the tension out of them, but I can’t bring myself to, not with Hunter on my other side.

“You’re arguing in favour of secrecy,” the moderator says to the first woman. “Do you have any thoughts on protected communities, then?”

“If by ‘protected’, you mean ‘segregated,’ then yes, I have quite a few,” the woman replies shortly. “This isn’t an either-or situation. Humans and shifters have lived together for hundreds of years - there’s no reason to change that. It would just be caving to the humans who want us out of the way.”

“Who said anything about us wanting shifters out of the way?” replies a man on the other side of the table. “Everyone has to realise that we’re talking about a small fraction of humans who know about shifters, and an even smaller fraction of those who want to subjugate them.”

The debate rages on, replies firing back and forth so quickly that I can hardly keep up. Hunter watches them intently, leaning forward in his seat, his eyes occasionally moving down to where his father is, while Silas frowns, lost in thought as he listens. I’m left wondering how on earth anything is going to be resolved in the short time that this conference is set to go on… until my cell phone vibrates in my pocket.

Frowning, I dig it out and glance at the screen. It’s a text message from an unknown number.

Watch your back. It isn’t safe for you here.

Chapter 12

My body is tense as we emerge from the assembly room an hour later, my shoulders hunched and my fingers nervously carding through my hair as I stare down at my phone. I know I should have been paying more attention during the peace talks, but as soon as I got that text, it was more or less over for my focus. Could it have been a wrong number? Sure, but I doubt it; even after replying with multiple messages asking who the sender was, I received no response, and my mind has been a mess trying to figure out who it might be. It sure as hell doesn’t feel like a coincidence, especially now that the whole Academy has up and left the island to surround ourselves with humans for the next week in an unfamiliar city. The idea that the warning might actually be a threat has crossed my mind, although from whom? Hawthorne? That would be bold, even from him, especially considering that the number could be traced, in theory. Another student? That hardly seems more likely; if it were someone I knew, why wouldn’t they tell me to my face? I’m left spinning out with more questions than answers, and I think Silas and Hunter can tell that something is wrong. They keep shooting me glances out of the