Demonic Vampires (Supernatural Shifter Academy #3) - G. Bailey Page 0,18

We arrive outside a pristine-looking apartment, following Mollie inside and up to the second level. She unlocks the front door and we file in one at a time, finding ourselves in a sprawling, well-lit, multi-room flat.

“This place is huge,” breathes Hazel.

“The perks of having friends in high places,” Mollie says, grinning. “Make yourselves at home. Although, I have to say, this is an interesting situation.”

“How so?” asks Shade incredulously.

“All six test subjects under one roof,” marvels Mollie, putting her hands on her hips.

“Six?” I ask, my eyes going wide. “You mean, there’s another one?” I’ve always known that there must be, since I have access to the witch form, but so much time has passed that I was starting to think I would never meet her.

“Damn right, there’s another one,” Mollie says, peering down one of the hallways. “Edith!” she yells. “We have more guests! Come out and say hello!”

“Just a second,” comes a muffled female voice.

Moments later, a door opens, and I find myself face to face with the last piece of the puzzle, the last ingredient in my strange past.

Chapter 8

To describe her as “pretty” would be an understatement. She was radiant, almost ethereal, like I might picture a fairy, if fairies existed. Her stature is svelte and petite, her skin pale and pearlescent, contrasted by her jet-black pixie cut and vivid green eyes. The girl smiles, and although it only takes a second for her expression to shift from vague distrust to jovial friendliness, a second is all I need to feel a brief pang of unease.

For a moment, neither of us speaks, and I can’t shake the feeling that she’s sizing me up as much as I’m sizing her up. This is the last test subject, the girl responsible for giving me my witch powers. I’m expecting to feel happy, reassured, even, now that the last question has been answered. By all accounts, it should be cathartic, especially considering the danger our little posse is in…

But.

Something about her gives me pause, and the frustrating thing is that I can’t even put my finger on it. She’s gorgeous, that’s obvious, and I can feel the others watching me expectantly, no doubt curious about how I’ll react to the new addition, but something still feels off.

You’re being ridiculous, I tell myself, forcing myself to smile at her. There’s literally no reason to be suspicious. If anything, you should be happy to have finally met her. So why the hell do I have this strange feeling in the pit of my stomach?

The girl breaks the silence, her voice tinkling with the hint of an Irish lilt. “You must be Millie Brix,” she says, extending a delicate hand to me. “My name is Edith Conaway. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

I blink, my movements stiff and rusty as I accept her proffered hand, half-wondering if I’ll break it if I shake it too hard. “You know who I am?” I ask with dull surprise. It’s a stupid question, considering who she’s been living with, but it takes me aback just the same.

Edith laughs, a bell-like sound that is half-beautiful and half-grating. “Of course,” she says. “It would be a bit strange if I didn’t at least know your name, considering…” She gestures vaguely around. “Well, everything.”

“I… guess that’s a fair point,” I admit.

“Mollie told me about what happened at the peace convention,” Edith goes on, sidling up to my former foster mother with a familiarity that makes me bristle in spite of myself. “It must have been dreadful. For the humans to attack like that…” She shakes her head. “Well, you’re safe here, at any rate.” I glance over at Hazel, who clears her throat. “Oh my god, I feel like a buffoon,” exclaims Edith. “Here I am, acting like you’re the only one here. Are the rest of you shifters as well?”

“That’s right,” Silas replies stiffly, indicating the rest of the guys. “Believe it or not, we’re the other shifters who the humans experimented on.”

“Is that so?” Edith asks, her eyes going wide as she sweeps her gaze from one face to the next. The corner of her mouth twitches, and her eyes linger on each of the guys a little longer than I’m comfortable with .

Landon shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot, coming to stand beside me and slides an arm around my waist. “Boots here is the common denominator,” he announces, clearly trying to inject some levity.

“Boots?” asks Edith, tilting her head to one side.

“It’s sort of