Unstoppable (Their Shifter Academy #6) - May Dawson Page 0,46

point, the best chance to rescue them all. But they’ll be waiting for you.”

I studied Frederick’s face, because I had to read him. He was never good at masking himself; his red lips pressed together stubbornly as if he was holding himself back from asking me for anything; he knew me well enough to know I’d do whatever I thought was best. His cheeks flushed even more as if he felt my gaze and knew what was on my mind, even though he never looked away from the dust worm. Christ, the Establishment should see right through him. Was he leading me into a trap? Did he even know it?

Or had he managed to outsmart them for a while, just long enough to get himself killed?

“I’m going to take your memory before you leave here,” I said. “Don’t find me again.”

He crossed his arms, his jaw setting impatiently. He muttered, “I won’t remember you telling me that.”

“Tell me everything. Then let me tinker,” I said.

He raised one eyebrow. “You haven’t changed.”

“I never do.” Maybe that was a lie—had the academy changed me?—but it was what he needed to hear at the moment.

He turned to look at me then, and I saw my best friend, the kid who had been with me all my life, as if his old faces were flickering into view along with his grown version; the freckles across a snub nose, the stubborn little chin that had hardened into a powerful jaw. Fred had deep amber eyes that used to flood with tears when we were boys, even though the rest of us had given up crying while we were still in the crib. No one ever came for us. But maybe Frederick was tougher than the rest of us, in his own way.

Then he said, “I trust you.”

I nodded as I gripped the side of his face, just for a second, letting my magic flow through my fingertips and sink into his brain, wiping out the last ten minutes. Manipulating anyone’s mind was a clumsy operation. I tried to twist his intentions too—Silas can’t help me, he’s always been a worthless prick—so he’d stay away from me and stay safe.

I’d bring Isabelle home to him, but I couldn’t reassure him of that without endangering the mission. Better to let my friend suffer a little in the short term.

“Close your eyes and count to twenty, and when reach the end, you’ll have lost your faith in me,” I whispered.

It was hard to give up a friend’s trust, but then, I never shied away from what was hard.

Not when there was a mission.

I left him there counting and didn’t look back. I strode back past the glittering jewels at the mouth of the exhibit and jogged quickly down the stairs, searching for an enemy. But there was only Rafe standing to one side of the sun dial, studying an exhibit map.

Would these friends trust me enough to let me save my oldest friends?

Or should I lie to them?

Chapter Twenty

Maddie

* * *

Jensen and I stood deep in the woods behind the cottage. I balanced myself with his shoulder while I jerked off my boots and socks then stood barefoot on a folded blanket to keep my feet out of the frost-coated grass. I undressed grimly, handing my clothes to Jensen; he slung my coat and my jeans over his arm as I shivered.

“I hate this,” I groused, shaking out my shoulders and trying to relax my muscles, but the cold made me tense. My nipples were so painfully stiff they hurt, and I crossed my arms, trying to keep my breasts warm, at least.

“The sooner you wolf out, the sooner you’ll be toasty warm.” Jensen didn’t sound all that sympathetic.

Maybe he was annoyed with me because he couldn’t shift himself. My lack of enthusiasm about the shift might rankle.

We should talk about that later, but for now, I closed my eyes and thought of my wolf, hoping to summon her. I imagined her bounding out from between the white-barked trees. I wanted to believe she wasn’t dead, but was merely locked away in my subconscious. Her dark-rimmed eyes would be bright and her mouth smiling mischievously, the way it always had before when I managed to glimpse her, when I wasn’t deep inside.

I’d always had to work to change into her. A familiar knot of dread rose in my stomach as I tried to imagine the change. I pushed away the memories of pain; of snapping muscles, of ligaments

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