Page 57

“I mean, are there any good clubs here where you can get properly drunk and dance?”

My grin widened.

“You bet there are.”

Wild Child

The Black Keys

My stomach wasn't doing what it was supposed to, and it didn't get any better as we approached Vanderwood in Bastien's new BMW. I had even drunk AB, but it was as if someone had hooked me up to a stun gun, and now millions of tiny lightning bolts were shooting through my stomach.

I tried desperately to ignore the reason, but the closer Bastien drove us to this place, the worse it got.

I was excited.

According to Laurent, I had to suppress this feeling because it had a lasting negative effect on our performance as Ruisangors, but it didn't work. It never worked.

This level of excitement, though, was not normal. Why exactly was I excited? I didn't really know. All I knew was that I had to get it under control as quickly as possible. There was no reason for it. None whatsoever.

I tried to focus on the Gothic towers of the massive university, which rose in the distance from the valley of the island’s lower part of the medium-high mountains, lined with dense forest, around which – as always – massive swarms of ravens circled, as if the town’s corpses were buried up there.

The dark storm clouds in the distance, hanging over the mountain tops, made it look as though this university were anything but the Copelands’ pretty little fairy-tale prestige playground.

And they told us we owned the fairytale castle...

“Why didn't you let us drive our cars?” Adrian grumbled from the passenger seat.

“I would have preferred to ride my motorcycle, too,” Larissa complained next to me, and I smiled, thinking of my baby, who was waiting eagerly for me in our garage.

I would have preferred to drive to university in my new sports car, too.

The auto repair shop had managed to restore the originally matte-gray model to its former glory.

If Emely could see my car now...

Once again, I felt the thrill in my stomach, and I took a deep breath.

Where did this ridiculous feeling come from?

Damn it.

“Simply because I wanted to talk to you guys.”

“Where are you when someone wants to talk to you?” my sister grumbled, and Bastien looked in the rearview mirror.

“Didn’t anyone give you my number?”

With a guilty expression, I looked at Larissa, who shook her head and gave me a reproachful glare.

“No.”

In my pathetic attempt to suppress a grin, I earned a withering look from her.

“Take care of it, Miles,” Bastien said, and I nodded to him through the mirror.

We crossed three traffic light intersections, and I had to restrain myself from laughing because Bastien was driving even faster than Adrian today. And how he drove.

This man could do anything, but when you sat in a car with him, you began to seriously question your immortality.