Kirwan freezes. For one suspended second, she looks like she’s about to pretend it isn’t there.
Then her head turns. Her gaze doesn’t go to the SUV. It goes to the space beside it, the place where the light seems thinner.
The man from inside is simply there. In the daylight, his eyes don’t look human at all, almost pure black, absorbing light in a way that’s not natural. He stands close enough to the SUV that he could have stepped out of it, yet Grayson knows he did not. There was no metalliczipof a side door opening. One moment, the space was empty; the next moment, it wasn’t.
Kirwan’s mouth opens, and nothing comes out at first. Then, throat working, the words spill out, “She was wrong! She lied. He’s powerful. I’ve seen it! He is the o—”
The man raises one skeletal finger.
Kirwan’s voice cuts off abruptly.
She claps a hand to her own throat and stumbles back a step. Her eyes go wild, and just like that night in her apartment, her face isn’t smug or calculating or cruel.
It’s terrified.
Then the man’s hand shifts, and the air in front of Kirwan ripples, like heat over asphalt. One moment she’s there, a scream trapped in her throat, and the next, the space where her body stood is empty pavement. The only sound remaining is her keys as they hit the ground.
The man’s black gaze finds Grayson easily, like he’s known exactly where Grayson has been the whole time.
Grayson’s body goes still, and he can admit that it’s fear that makes a cold sweat bead on his forehead and down his spine.
And then, with a faint, almost courteous lift of two fingers, the pale man salutes, and he, too, disappears into the shimmeryvoid, leaving the air tasting like metal for a moment. The SUV speeds away, disappearing beyond the magical gate.
“Grayson!” Knox Mehta barrels through the door in a gust of wind that forces the glass door against the side of the building. He doesn’t see Grayson in his hiding spot, and he’s got his phone in his hand while he mutters, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
Grayson finds his voice. “Hey.”
“Thank fuck. I thought—” Knox grits out through a clenched jaw. “Dammit! What were you thinking?”
What was Grayson thinking? Good fucking question.
He hadn’t been, not really. But he has never ignored his pre-cog, and he hadn’t been about to start now. If The Plain said he had to move, Grayson moved, and he has never regretted it.
Knox moves closer, and the scent of his cologne and patchouli floods the place between them. It’s stronger than it usually is, even when he’s trying to encourage Grayson to cut loose in class. He must have been drawing hard on The Plain for it to be still sticking around through that breeze and outdoors.
He has a hard hand on Grayson’s shoulder so he can give him a tiny shake. “I thought they’d taken you. After all that’s happened, you try to throw yourself into the back of the van all on your own. How stupid—”
Before Grayson can process that histeacherknows about the threat Kirwan posed or the mysterious van, his professor is pressed up against the building, feet off the ground, with Rowan’s narrowed gaze clocking every surprised twitch. It’s a testament to how scary he looks that Knox doesn’t even have a second to draw on his power.
“I have had enough. Don’t fuckingtouchhim. Why can’t you fuckers show some respect?” Rowan gives the smaller man a shake. “What the fuck is wrong with you people?” It’s growled out, and Grayson can see his mate shimmering as he fights off his Wolf’s transformation
“It’s okay, Ro,” Grayson murmurs, but doesn’t move an inch.
“No, it fucking isn’t. These magical assholes think that they can treat you like a dumbass kid. Like being Were isn’t good enough, and they’re fuckingrudeabout it.”
Knox wisely says nothing, but he doesn’t hesitate to meet Rowan’s eyes. Brave, but stupid, as eye contact with a dominant Were meant a challenge, but maybe his teacher already knows that.
Before Rowan loses his grip and shifts—or worse, renders Grayson’s favorite teacher unconscious with a fist to his face—Grayson lowers his voice to say, “He’s my friend, baby. My teacher and—”
“I’d rather speak for myself, if that’s okay with you?” Knox interrupts. “He’s right, Grayson. I was rude.”
Rowan narrows his eyes suspiciously.
“I’m sorry. It’s not an excuse, I overreacted, but I am…uh…” He tilts his head to the side, carefully choosing a word that won’t set Rowan off again. “I amfondof your mate.”
“Fond,” Rowan repeats with a growl.
“Er, yes…we’re friends. I am his teacher, but have learned to respect and admire—”
