“If it wasn’t you, then who was it?”
I scoff. “You’re still looking at the wrong person for answers.” I don’t know how to make it any clearer.
“Where did you go off campus?” Toman asks, and I shrug, aware of the scrutiny I’m under. I wouldn’t usually care to deal with these questions, especially after our last talk, but the only logic I have is that the quicker I answer their questions, the faster they lead me to Elodie.
“To help a friend,” I state with a sigh.
“Which friend?” Cordelia pushes, and I imagine prying those blood red nails from her fingertips and piercing them into her eyeballs.
“Rion.”
“Rion Banks, who remained on campus?” Cordelia clarifies, and my nostrils flare with annoyance as I nod. “Why would you need to leave campus to aid him?”
I purse my lips as I decide to turn the tables on them instead. “We can carry on this conversation, but it means you’re going to have to accept that one of your professors is a pedo?—”
“That’s enough, Mr. Forrester. I will not tolerate unfounded allegations against our staff,” Anya snarls, rushing to her feet with her palms flat against the table as if it’s the one thing holding her back.
“I thought not,” I say with a smile, aware that the woman before me is best friends with Professor Drayker.
“Has Elodie’s magic made an appearance?” Toman asks, and I shake my head. “Are you sure?” he encourages, and I give him a pointed look.
“Do I look like I waste time lying? Besides, Professor Morton advised that you already had Elodie in your presence. Why don’t you see for yourself?” I’m playing with fire saying that, but I need to keep the façade of indifference, despite how much my gut clenches.
“Speaking of the wicked girl,” Cordeliawhispers with glee before reaching toward the center of the table where a small panel of buttons sits. She presses the green one and a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention.
The wall has vanished, and in its place sits a thick pane of glass offering a view over what looks like a laboratory. But the part that captures my attention is the subject in the center of the room.
Elodie.
She’s lying on a white bed, her legs, arms, neck, and torso all bound to it with a barely-there pillow wedged under her head. It’s propped up at an awkward angle, but it doesn’t matter to Elodie, who is limp in its vise. To top it all off, there’s some kind of contraption secured to her head with an array of wires leading to five or six machines placed around her.
What the fuck have they done?
She looks like she’s been here for weeks, feeling the weight of their torture, but it’s barely been a few hours based on what Rion said.
“What have you done to her? She was only just transferred here by Professor Morton,” I ask, the bite still noticeable in my voice as I cock a brow, but I don’t manage to turn my attention away from the girl in question.
“You know time is a specialty of mine,” Rikard explains, leaving me to squirm with nausea.
What he means is he’s slowed time right now so they can have their fun with her. God knows how long she’s been brutalized by them.
Fuck.
It takes everything to fight the urge to destroy them all, but I keep it together for the greater good. Whatever the fuck that might actually be right now.
“Your results?” I grunt, and Saken sighs.
“Inconclusive. No measure of magic has appeared, and we’ve had everyone in there.”
“Everyone?” I repeat, finally tearing my gaze away to look at them, only to find Cordelia smiling.
“A wolf, a vampire, a witch, you name it,” she sings proudly.
“What have you been doing to her?”
“Whatever is necessary,” Toman states. “You were right. She doesn’t take the full wrath of anyone’s abilities.”
My jaw clenches.
