26. Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Six
Dacre
“I need to talk to you.” I manage to get a moment alone with Parker the morning before we leave for the culinary club trip. “It’s about Emma.”
We’re standing in the hallway right outside the dining room doors. The location is intentional on my part: it’s not a wide-open space, so there are fewer eyes, no cameras. The air is rich with the smell of freshly baked croissants and ham, with the faintest hint of coffee.
“Figured. She told me you guys had a moment the other night with the cake.” Parker’s talking but scanning the room for something or someone behind me. “It meant a lot to her, you know.”
Does this family have boundaries?
“I have a task that I’m going to ask you to do, and I’m not going to tell you why.”
“I’m listening.” He crosses his arms, nearly bursting out of his blazer.
“You need to find someone capable of hacking. Not just anyone, someone who can do deep digging. If they’re cheap, they’re not good enough.”
“I don’t know anyone, but I can figure something out. What am I having them look up?”
I hand him a piece of paper.
“Don’t leave an electronic trail.”
He smirks after looking at the paper. “Does she know?”
“No. We aren’t exactly friends, so I try not to talk to her about my grandfather.”
“I mean, does she know you have feelings for her?”
“That’s not why I want her to be safe.”
“You know I can feel the shift in the air, right? When you look at her . . . when you think about her? I clocked it last semester. I’ve had Zant keeping tabs on you this whole time.”
He hits my shoulder as if we were friends.
“I thought you wouldn’t let anyone near her.” Anyone like me.
He scoffs. “Eh. You surprised me. I’m giving it a chance. Plus, I don’t think I need to tell you what I’ll do if you hurt her.”
I used to dismantle a guy’s inheritance for looking at me wrong. But this year is different. My grandfather ensured that. Made me the lock and the key for the safekeeping of my conscience.
“Me involving you is going to put a target on your back, just letting you know,” I say.
“I’ve already been shot, let ’em try.” He winks.
It’s as if he has a death wish.
Emma is eating with her sisters. I’m out of sight, where she can’t see me, but I can see her.
Her blonde hair is brushed neatly into a ponytail that’s bouncing as she speaks. Parker just might have been the perfect person to walk into their lives when he did. Someone who’s confident and a little close to death at any given moment.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to make a scene,” he says, cracking his neck and glaring down at his mark across the dining hall.
“Have you tried the nonviolent method?”
It’s too late. Parker shifts into his werewolf form in the middle of the dining hall.
Appalling. Improper. And . . . extremely entertaining.
He’s a huge ball of brown fur as he prowls through the tables and grabs the collar of some guy’s shirt.
He was all over the forum for cornering Evangeline the other day, heckling her about not joining the Donor Program. It left her with a bruise on her wrist.
Snarls and grunts erupt as Parker lashes out. Students stand up to get out of the way. His claws tear skin, and the coward braces himself to be mauled to death on the dining room table.
To my surprise, the richest Were in Doxlothia, named Aster, comes to Parker’s aid.
Not shifting, but standing close by and urging Parker to stay calm.
Parker listens but leaves him with some minor wounds.
His outburst works. No one wants to cross Parker.
From what I can tell, Parker is starting to earn some respect among the Weres on the council, which is good for him and good for Emma because Parker and his pack wouldn’t know the definition of subtle if it hit them over the head, and in this world, you need to be that and more.