“I’m hungry,” I say, and drop into the seat across from him. “You just look like dessert.”
Colton coughs, trying to hide a chuckle. “What’s on the docket tonight?”
No one answers. Not at first. The Board loves their moments, and Abelard knows how to wring tension from silence.
He smooths his robe, and rests both palms on the table.
“Gentlemen,” he begins, “as you are all aware, the next Night Hunt approaches. This year, however, we are faced with an… unusual opportunity.”
The word hangs there. Unusual. Like an open wound.
Abelard’s eyes sweep the table. “Our associates at the Vicious Kings have expressed the need for a ‘trial period’ for their successor. Westpoint, as ever, is honored to assist our benefactors.”
Someone behind me mutters, “Just what we need. A mafia brat.” I don’t need to turn; the voice is laced with envy, not challenge.
Rhett’s the first to show interest. He sits up, one brow arched, that snake grin curling. “You’re letting a girl into the program?”
“Not justagirl,” says Abelard. “A daughter. One with as much power as any of you, if not more. A runner for the Hunt, as stipulated by her father’s wishes. She will participate, be claimed, and have her spot within the Academy, tying the allyship between the Kings and the Board to this arrangement. We will sign her into the Book and it shall be processed.” He glances at the Chair. “Rhett, you’ll oversee the arrangements.”
Rhett shrugs, bored again already. “Fine by me. Who is she?”
“Dahlia Bonaccorso.”
“What?” Julian’s mouth drops open. “The Don’s daughter?”
“The very same. So you can see why we need to be careful.”
Abelard looks at me. “Bam, you’ll be sponsoring her integration. See to it that she survives until the Hunt.”
My jaw flexes. “Why me?”
The Board’s secretary leans in, voice like raspy sandpaper: “Because you, Mr. Ellis-Black, are the only animal we trust to keep her in check.” She smiles, the joke curdling on her tongue.
I don’t respond. My knuckles are white on the tabletop, but my face stays blank. You learn early that showing anything to the Board is a mistake.
Julian’s grinning. “When do we meet this prodigy?”
Abelard’s mouth ticks up, not a smile, just acknowledgment. “Tomorrow morning. Her car arrives at eight. She will require…orientation.”
“Great,” I drag the word out. “My way or no way.”
A few of the Board glance at each other, considering. The old woman says, “Your discretion is valued.”
Rhett stands, stretching lazily. “Well, this should be fun. Can we go eat now, or do we have to listen to more of the old man’s shit? We all know the song and dance now.”
“Meeting adjourned,” Abelard says, rapping his knuckles on the wood.
The Board rises and heads out, leaving the four of us at the table.
Colton lingers, shadowing the wall as I exit. He waits until we’re clear, then falls into step. “You good?” he says.
“Never better.”
He shakes his head, almost smiling. “They’re testing you.”
“They’re always testing me.”
Colton punches me in the arm. “This girl don’t treat her like the others. Her family will gut you if you fuck it up.”
