The Key to Fear - Kristin Cast Page 0,14

He cleared his throat and took a quick drink.

Getting a reaction from Preston Darby had always been easy. So easy that it hadn’t been fun since he’d dissolved into a mushy bag of snot and tears during their final year of schooling. That last semester had shone a spotlight on Blair. The corporation had been correct when they’d chosen her for leadership training. Blair had been named the Key’s student body liaison and, in all of her correspondence with the corporation, he’d been listed as Preston Derpy. It hadn’t even been Blair’s mistake. It had been their virtual assistant’s. Blair just didn’t correct it.

The door slid open behind her and Cath’s crone assistant made a small coughing noise. “You can go in now, Ms. Scott.”

Blair nodded. The assistant’s timing had been perfect. Perhaps Blair should learn her name … “If you’ll excuse me, Council Leader, I have a meeting to—”

“I saw your broadcast,” he boomed with another surge of his mug. “It was—” He paused, tilting his head from side to side as if weighing his words. “Let’s just say you can tell it was your first time. But don’t worry, Blair. Practice makes perfect.” He took another drink, the corners of his lips curving into a grin around the mug’s black rim.

Heat painted Blair’s stomach. Derpy was upping his game.

Blair scanned the sets of eyes patiently peering from their glass boxes. She could practically feel gossip churning inside them. Did you hear what the Council Leader said to Ms. Scott? No one talks to her like that. And then she ran away to her mom’s office!

That couldn’t be the office chatter. It wouldn’t be. Blair slid her tongue across her lips.

“You’ll have to forgive me, Council Leader. I was taken aback by your gorgeous shoes.” She pressed her hand against her chest and peered inquisitively down at Preston’s petite feet. “It’s about time a designer came out with a line of heels for men.”

Now that would make for some excellent office goss.

Coffee sloshed to the tiled floor as Preston whipped around toward the bubbles of laughter erupting from the glass boxes behind him.

Blair’s prey was wounded, but she needed Council Leader Preston Darby dead. Figuratively, of course. “They’re beautiful, Council Leader, just beautiful.” Blair squatted as much as her slim skirt allowed. “Is that a two-inch lift? I’ll have to see if they have them in my size.”

Preston’s face lit up stoplight red. “This is the last time you make a fool of me.” More coffee leapt from his mug as he clicked off toward the elevators.

Blair smoothed out her skirt, nodded at Cath’s assistant, and strode into her adoptive mother’s office. A chorus of laughter erupted as the door slid closed behind her.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Blair.” Cath tapped her pursed lips with her index finger, her perfectly manicured Key Corp–red nails in stark contrast against her pale lips and white desk.

Blair waved away the comment. “Preston deserved it.” She fluffed her wild curls over her shoulder. “I don’t know who that short little gnome thought he was talking to.”

Cath hid her smile behind her fingertips. “He can make your life more difficult. And Denny’s.”

Blair snorted. If Preston Darby dared to mess with her brother, she’d have his tiny feet stuffed and mounted.

Cath chuckled lightly. “Short little gnome …”

Blair ran her fingers over the cracked spines of the reference books lining Cath’s bookshelves. “Did you happen to see my broadcast?” Blair pressed each word against the back of her teeth, forcing them out slowly, subtly, as if that one question hadn’t been the reason for her visit. “I feel like it went okay,” she continued, strangling her footsteps the same way she choked her words, with practiced ease. “I didn’t have a prompter or anything. There wasn’t time. But I guess that is the nature of an emergency. I ended up having to wing it.” She came to the end of the bookshelf and flicked an invisible speck of link from her fingertips before making her way to Cath’s desk. “Any thoughts?”

Blair clamped her mouth shut as anxiety clacked her teeth together. If she could reach inside herself and punish her nerves, she would. She hated the way they popped beneath her skin, the pressure building until she felt like she might explode if she didn’t vent. And her current go-to was Cath. Who was she kidding? Her go-to was always Cath. It had been since Blair had turned thirteen. Since her parents—

Blair shook her head. There