“Too festive, for me. But I’ll bear that in mind.”
If he found it absurd to be standing here, talking to her about tree species while his regular salon attendees whispered poison behind them, it didn’t show in the lines of his face. Should she ask him about the Old Masters directly, or would that only get her killed? Was this salon part of the recruitment effort, or would his guests be shocked if he killed her before them and buried her underneath his dead trees? Ellory tried to slide her trembling hands into her pockets before remembering that, unlike her coat, this dress didn’t have any. She twisted her fingers in the folds of the skirt instead.
“So Hudson didn’t tell you he couldn’t make it?” she asked, finally turning away from the view.
“He rarely does,” said Colt, unbothered. “These salons are difficult for him. The rest of the group envies him in many ways. They think he’s my favorite.”
“Well, is he?”
Colt’s smile widened. “It would hardly be appropriate for me to play favorites, Miss Morgan. I’ve done this too many years for that. But I do see a lot of myself in him, more so than I do in Kendall, Duncan, Sofia, Quentin, Miles, Percy, or Gaia.”
It took Ellory a moment to realize that Gaia was the girl she’d thought was named Greer. “How so?”
“I choose my cohort based on talent, potential, and, I’ll admit, connections. Talent is something many people are born with. They may cultivate it, but they may also take it for granted. Connections, as I’m sure I don’t need to tell you, grease the wheels of this world. Knowing the right people at the right time offers the kind of protection that not even money can buy. But potential…it can be hard to find students who aim to reach their full potential. Mister Graves is one of two, in the entire time I’ve been hosting these.” Colt rubbed at his bare chin, shaved so closely that she could hardly see the silver of his stubble. “He’s never been content to coast on his talent. He reads ahead. He asks questions. He has a hunger in him that appeals to me as an educator. He will do great things, and I want to be a part of his journey.” A wry laugh escaped him. “Perhaps Iamplaying favorites.”
“No, I think you’re right,” Ellory said carefully. “I’ve always…seen that in him.”
“I see that in you as well,” said Colt. “Mister Graves can be very withdrawn, so I was surprised when he brought a guest at all. But in the short time I’ve known you, I see your similarities. Have you considered—”
“Professor,” said Gaia-Not-Greer, appearing between them with a look of strained politeness. Her blond hair was pulled up into a messy bun, which made her look like she should have been teaching classes herself. “Can you come and settle something between Sofiaand me?” Her blue eyes cut in Ellory’s direction. “You don’t mind if I borrow Colt, do you, Morgan?”
“Not at all—”
But Gaia was already dragging the professor away, leaving Ellory alone by the windows. The whispering on the other side of the room grew louder, interrupted by performative laughter that sent a clear message. The setting sun looked like the glowing eye of a monster, waiting for her to fail.
Ellory took a deep breath and braced herself for a nightmarish evening without Hudson as her shield.
***
Dinner had a Southeast Asian influence: pancit miki bihon, which blended egg noodles and rice-stick noodles, shredded cabbage and stripped carrots, shredded chicken and chicharrones; skirt steak skewers with caramelized marinade and a side of nu?c ch?m; tofu pad thai, the rice noodles flavored with sweet-and-sour sauce; Cambodian chicken and rice soup garnished with a lime wedge and garlic cloves.
Ellory forwent the wine in favor of water, letting the conversation wash over her instead of contributing. She didn’t want to be drunk around these people normally, but she especially didn’t want to be drunk around people who might want her dead. Her phone was in her lap, the screen remaining dark as the night wore on. At one point, Miles tried to press her for information about Hudson’s whereabouts, his eyes narrowing when she told him she didn’t have any.
“Then why did you come?” he asked. “Not that you’re not welcome. It’s just a little strange, don’t you think?”
Ellory lifted her eyebrows. “You seem to have a lot of thoughts you want to share.”
“The rest of us busted our asses to get chosen by Professor Colt for this year’s salon,” said Miles, leaning forward so that she could smell the rosé on his breath. He wore a silver tie that stroked her arm as he invaded her space. “And you just, what, slept your way in? It’s not fair.”
It wasn’t fair that Miles’s grandfather had possessed a billion dollars in start-up money to loan to his father. It wasn’t fair that Miles’s father could still oppose things like the Godwin Scholarship for elevating disadvantaged students into spaces like this. It wasn’t fair that Miles could look at her and assume she could have gotten here only on her back—and that he would look down on that when he didn’t seem to have anything that wasn’t handed to him thanks to an accident of birth. At least if she had slept her way into the salon, she would haveworkedfor it. Miles dripped with the egotism of a man who had never struggled and never would.
“Leave her alone,” said an unfamiliar voice on her other side. Percy, the quiet one, didn’t lift his gaze from his plate, but his mouth was twisted into a scowl. “That’s so fucking sexist, man.”
Miles snorted. “I’m just saying what the rest of you are thinking.”
“I’m thinking you’re an asshole, actually,” Sofia, sitting on Miles’s left, chimed in. “And that you’re probably projecting. Which of your professors are you sleeping with to have the grades to be here?”
Miles’s suntanned cheeks grew dark with an angry flush. He drained his wineglass, glancing quickly at Colt to make sure he was still buried in conversation with Kendall. When he spoke, it was acidic. “And why are you here, Aston? Didn’t your family go bankrupt in the last hospitality crash?”
Sofia rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe I ever dated you.”
While Sofia and Miles argued over who was to blame for their breakup, Ellory loosened her grip around her fork. Her nails hadn’t broken the skin of her palm…this time. She wanted to be angry at Hudson for leaving her to suffer these people alone, but she had chosen to come, despite everything. She was choosing to stay, in the hopes that all this would be worth it, and she was choosing to bite her tongue so as not to come across as the belligerent one. But Miles’s accusation did more than make her feel small. It made her feel like the basest sum of her sexual parts, worth nothing in his eyes but what was between her legs. Her mind, her personality, her appearance—those things could not possibly have charmed Hudson. No, they had to have fucked.
It made her ashamed of every time she’d ever been aroused in Hudson Graves’s presence, and who was Miles to have that kind of control over her thoughts?
Carefully, she set her fork down on the table before she stabbed him in the thigh with it. She had been so focused on the dangers of magic that she had forgotten the everyday danger of a man who thought his money made him worthy of having stupid opinions.
Dinner wrapped up soon after. Ellory helped Colt’s cook clear the plates, mostly so she didn’t have to risk walking out with the rest of the group. Her thoughts were a tangled wasp’s nest, buzzing with her anger, and she was afraid of what she might say to them. By comparison, Colt—who had yet to do anything to her that she could prove—seemed like the lesser evil.
