Another rise of raucous laugher booms around me, clanging my bones.
I throw a wild glare at Landon as he pounds his fist on the table.
His pink face is twisted with laughter, and whatever he finds so fucking hilarious, it’s at Mildred’s expense.
Her face is an ugly shade of purple, of the rage I have seen on her so many times, often directed at me.
She picks up three playing cards from the middle pile, then tosses a ring onto the pile of gold and silver and diamonds in the centre of the game.
My glare holds from beneath my lashes.
I turn it on my brother.
Teddy has shifted to squeeze in beside him and Piper on the bench.
Now, Oliver has one arm thrown around Serena’s slender shoulders, but his other hand is clasped tightly around bending playing cards, three of them all up, and the tension of the game has his jaw working.
“It’s an interesting stance,” Courtney says and hands me the essay.
I eye her for a moment. “You don’t agree?”
In answer, she gives a one-shouldered shrug.
The thin, translucent paper crimps in my grip.
I toss it to the table.
Courtney thins her lips before she says, “Belladonna’s amnesic properties are stronger. That is a fact.”
The look I spare her is withering. “But Water Hemlock has longer amnesic side-effects. It can be lifelong.”
“Only due to the lethal amount required for Belladonna,” she mutters.
“Yeah, so Water Hemlock is better for amnesia, and Deadly Nightshade is better for killing,” I snap.
Courtney rolls her tongue around the inside of her cheeks.
I smooth out the crumpled paper, then snatch my pencil into my grip. I’ve not even touched lead to paper when the next shout erupts from the Snakes—
I flinch before I throw yet another glare down at them. But I only glimpse Mildred snatching up another few cards from the pile before the glint of diamonds catches my attention.
At first, I think it’s another bet about to be thrown onto the pile. But it’s diamond eyes—and they are staring right at me.
Dray hasn’t seen much of me since our deal was struck in the library. And now that I think about it, libraries seem to be our place of bargaining.
But this, now, is the first time I’ve been in his presence longer than a few seconds in passing, or when I’ve wedged myself into a chair far from him in class.
There’s a softness in his eyes. Something faraway, distant thoughts, a mind gone from the game going on around him.
He holds my gaze, and everything else just starts to slip away.
A heartbeat pulses through me.
The noise of the study hall is muted, an echo, and I only hear my own blood pulsing through my body.
Dray’s black sweater is crumpled over the crisp white of his shirt. His tie is tugged loose, but not undone, and his hair is ruffled.
By the look of him, I suspect there to be a flask being passed around under that table.
