She started to walk away, then turned back with that mischievous grin that usually meant trouble. “Oh, and Archer?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re going to the party,” she said, giving me a little wave. “If you don’t, I’ll tell Mother and Father about your little chat with Professor Blackwood.”
“How did you?—”
“I have my ways.” She wiggled her fingers dramatically. “Besides, what’s a tiny bit of blackmail between siblings? If you won’t do something nice for yourself, I’ll give you no choice.”
Before I could respond, she was already heading toward the athletic complex, leaving me standing there wondering how and when my sister had become such a problem. It was strange. Up until this past year, she’d been just as obedient as me. But after Theodore Voss, our parent’s long-intended partner for her, ran off with a male siren, she’d changed. She wasn’t an obedient child anymore. She was an adult with plans for her own life.
Maybe it was about time I took a page out of her book, even if it was only for a weekend.
Chapter 3
Valen
“Ican’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I groaned as we stepped up to the teleportation circle of standing stones. “This is such a bad idea…”
“Oh my god,” Lila muttered back. “Stop bitching or everyone is going to know how much of a stick in the mud you are. It’s a bar crawl, not the electric chair.”
“That’s a dated reference.”
“I’m almost two hundred years old,” Lila shot back. “Cut me some slack.”
“I will do no such thing. You dragged me into this and I’m gonna bitch about it the entire time.”
“Wonderful…”
We followed the group, bickering mostly just for fun. There were only thirty or so students teleporting into Pigeon Forge, and we were part of the last group to go through. Thankfully, I didn’t see anyone I recognized from my classes or the fencing team the previous year. That, at least, was a small turn in my favor. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Lila was right. I needed a night to let loose a little and just be… someone other than myself.
The teleportation circle hummed with magical energy, making my teeth ache in that familiar way that always accompanied group transport spells. I stepped into the glowing ring of stones, feeling the familiar tug in my stomach as the world dissolved around us.
When the spinning stopped, we materialized in a wooded area just outside Pigeon Forge, the neon lights of the tourist strip visible through the trees. The scent of funnel cake and car exhaust hit my nostrils immediately, along with the overwhelming cocktail of human emotions that always made my head pound in crowded places.
“Okay, everyone remember the rules,” called out one of the nearby students, a senior who’d organized this whole expedition. “We’re just college kids having a night out. No magic, no supernatural abilities, and definitely no feeding on the locals.”
That last bit was clearly directed at the handful of more rambunctious students toward the front. Even from here I could tell at least two of them were werewolves and as I glanced up at the night sky, I realized that the full moon was only a few days away.
“And if anyone gets arrested,” he continued, “you’re on your own. The academy will disavow all knowledge of this trip.”
Lila snorted beside me. “Like they don’t already know exactly where we are. I guarantee Dean Thornfield has a tracking spell on at least half of us.”
She was probably right, but I pushed that thought aside as we made our way through the trees toward the main drag. The sounds of human revelry grew louder with each step. I could hear the music, laughter, and the general chaos that seemed to follow large groups of intoxicated mortals wherever they went, especially in a big tourist town like this one.
“So, what’s the plan?” I asked, already regretting this decision as we emerged onto the sidewalk. The street was packedwith tourists, the air thick with the smell of alcohol and fried food.
“First bar is called The Moonshine Tavern,” Lila said, consulting her phone. “Apparently, they have live music and cheap drinks. Perfect for blending in with the locals and letting loose a bit.”
I followed the group down the crowded street, trying to keep my supernatural senses dampened so I wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the sheer volume of human emotions and pheromones. It was like trying to listen to a whisper in the middle of a rock concert.
The Moonshine Tavern turned out to be exactly what I’d expected, dim lighting, sticky floors, and the kind of country music that made my centuries-old ears want to bleed. But it was crowded and loud, which meant we could disappear into the chaos without drawing too much attention.
“Drinks!” Lila announced, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the bar. “You need at least three before you’ll stop looking like someone’s forcing you to attend your own funeral.”
I was about to respond with something appropriately sarcastic when I caught sight of someone across the room, and every witty comeback died in my throat.
He was leaning against the far wall, nursing what looked like a beer and watching the band with an expression of polite interest that suggested he was about as thrilled to be here as I was. Dark hair, sharp jawline, and the kind of understated confidence that came from someone comfortable in their own skin. But it was his eyes that caught my attention. They were intelligent, observant, and currently scanning the room with the practiced ease of someone who was comfortable in this sort of situation.
