Asher
Fox
Did she show?
Iglance down the tiered lecture hall once again, as if she’ll evaporate before my eyes.
Her hair falls down the back of her sweater.
The subtle movement of her head follows our professor as he paces the floor, talking through his slides.
He uses a microphone to save his baritone voice, which on more than one occasion has put me to sleep in the past, but today the somber sound is an itch in my gut that I can’t seem to scratch, no matter how I squirm.
Each click of his remote feels like it’s another hour of my life slipping away.
Class has never been so grueling, and you’d think it was finals week by the way my hands shake as I type out my reply.
Two rows ahead of me.
He and Thorne are waiting in the north parking lot, where they tracked down her car. Maddox is stationed in the courtyard outside the building as our plan B if she leaves class early or gets out the door before I do.
It didn’t take long to connect the dots on social media.
Fox found out where she lives within twenty minutes.
Her roommate is friends with one of Thorne’s previous bedfellows.
The web of mutuals, clubs, and on-campus societies makes it difficult to hide, but she’s still found ways of doing just that.
All of her socials are less than two years old.
Her photos are mainly of food, travel views, and nights out with her roommate and her fiancé.
The last name, Goodman, is fake, along with her entire resume that Maddox found on a job posting site.
Three of the four establishments closed down a few years ago, and the last had no record of a Elsbeth Goodman, or anyone with the name Elsbeth, in their IRS files.
If it weren’t for the coven members that work in the administration and registration office on campus, Fox would have hacked those databases as well.
But as it stands, any alarm raised would mean answering the coven’s questions and facing a tongue-lashing from my father.
Senator Morey may not be able to ground me or take away my car keys like he did in high school, but he would see to it that my post college plans only entail being his lackey on the campaign trail next year.
I check the time again. The clock’s taunting hands refuse to budge as Dr. Benson dives deeper into the rise of China and India in the global trade market influencing the current political climate.
Ten minutes until class is over and I potentially go to jail for attempting to kidnap a fellow student for questionable reasons.
Not that it would deter my father from dragging me kicking and screaming down the path he walks.
I have always wanted to work in politics.
I chose this major to help people. The many silver spoons I was born with have pull.
Edmund Morey, on the other hand, saw politics as a way to pad his bank account, claiming progressive views but doing little to push for the rights and betterment of our community.
The coven is his only priority, followed by his wealthy corporate backers.
I learned a long time ago that he is a witch who finds the gray areas between what is being promised and what is delivered.
Meaning that progress becomes an illusion to the people who need it most.
Elsbeth bends down to her bag on the floor and pulls out another notebook to scribble into.
Her laptop has a privacy screen over it, something I didn’t realize yesterday at the library, but trying to peek over her shoulder for over an hour has made it very apparent.
It’s not rare to see—many of our more competitive peers go to obnoxious lengths to keep their coursework private. Trust behind ivy walls is thin.
“That’s the end of this week’s presentation,” Dr. Benson announces, and the weight on my shoulders lifts only for my stomach to writhe.
“When we come back from break, we will be going over each of your opening statements. This means that those of you who have been agonizing over the witty one-liners or pedantic research info dumps need to work on tightening it up.”
Elsbeth closes her laptop and turns to our classmate, Vihana, next to her to whisper something in her ear.
Vihana pulls her dark hair up into a bun as she replies to Elsbeth.
I have to find a way to get to her before she makes plans and puts Vihana at risk of going on the same unplanned vacation she’s about to take.
Dr. Benson is still talking, but I gather my stuff and shove it all into my bag.
Not that I took any notes or worked on my assignments while having an existential crisis.
Getting to my feet, I reach the end of my row right as the professor dismisses the class.
Elsbeth and Vihana sling their bags over their shoulders, and I time my steps perfectly to meet Elsbeth as she exits her row.
As my foot meets the wood of the stairs, she walks into me. The intentional collision causes her to lose her balance and fall into my chest. I wrap an arm around the small of her back to stop her from tumbling down the auditorium style steps, and she looks up at me in surprise.
Her pupils widen, eating up the mossy green irises surrounding them. She’s wearing makeup that makes her lips look fuller than yesterday, and my eyes get stuck on them for a long moment before she pulls out of my hold.
“Hello, again,” I say, letting her decide how much space to put between us. “Did you ever get your paper recovered from your computer?”
Two other people from the row above us step between us to leave. Vihana passes Elsbeth from behind and takes two steps down to wait for her. I have to find a way to separate them. Have they been friends the entire semester?
“Yes, I got lucky. All safe and sound. Thanks for the attempt of being a knight in shining armor.” Her voice is silk. Dark and sensually wrapped around each word.
She steps closer, allowing another student to pass behind her.
“I don’t think most would say that’s part of my reputation.” I step down so our eyes are level, but more so I can block Vihana from interfering.
“I don’t care for gossip.”
I take her in fully for the first time. She’s wearing a heavy gray cable-knit sweater.
The kind you see in catalogs that looks way more comfortable than they actually are.
Her short black skirt would be provocative if it weren’t for the tights and tall boots wrapping around her legs.
There are plenty of modest good girls on campus.
The ones that follow all the rules, go to their Protestant churches every week, and worship at the alters of a god who only sees them as breeders for the next generation of senselessly wealthy.
Whatever modesty her outfit may be giving, the look in her eyes is rebellion. It’s the same one that Fox gets when he’s being lectured by the coven elders.
I lean in closer, her sensual perfume filling my lungs as I ask, “You haven’t heard anything about me? I find that a little hard to believe.”
Vanilla. Amber. And something warm underneath. Floral and sweet but darker. Like plum or wine.
“I never said I didn’t hear what people say. Nothing stays a secret behind these walls.”
Gods, she really is pretty. I suddenly have many reasons that justify taking her somewhere no one else can see us.
“I think you have a few secrets.”
She shrugs, and I give her a flirty smile that has never failed me before. “But you wouldn’t trust any of those secrets with me?”
“I like my privacy.” Her retort is quick and practiced.
“Being discreet is a rare quality.”
“Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?” Her brow lifts. “Because the whole ‘you’re not like other girls’ line is a bit old.”
I move in closer, hiding my fascination by lowering my voice so only she can hear me. “Are you saying you’re like every other woman in our class?”
The flirtation in her tone slips to annoyance and that small loss of her control feels like a triumph.
“I am exactly like every other woman.” She smiles but it feels forced. “Long walks on the beach. Pumpkin spice lattes. I never leave my house without my favorite lip gloss and always make a wish at 11:11.”
“Hmm.” I lean into her warmth. “But you’re not waiting around for Prince Charming to make all your dreams come true. Are you?”
“Maybe I am. Have you seen one around?”
“Let me buy you a coffee and I’ll help you find one.”
Her eyes widen like she wasn’t expecting my invitation.
I can see the moment her mask slips. The calm, sensual illusion she’s constructed falls away to the dangerous creature lurking underneath.
If she’s going to be cornered, it’ll be on her terms. She looks over my shoulder then back to me with renewed airiness.
“I actually have somewhere be, but another time?”
She takes her phone out of her pocket and taps the screen to bring it to life. When she looks up at me expectantly, I rattle off my phone number, and a moment later my pocket vibrates on cue.
I narrow my eyes at her, wanting to keep her longer just to watch her squirm but knowing we’ll have plenty of time for that soon. Instead, I move to the side and swing my arm in an “after you” motion. “See you around, Elsbeth.”
Without another word, she takes the few steps down to her friend and links her arm with Vihana’s to leave the room together. I take my phone out and send a text to the group chat.
ASHER
Plan B.
MADS
On it.
I take the steps two at a time then head for the back door. It’s a short jog to the parking lot. Fox and Thorne are sitting in Thorne’s Rover. Fox opens his door and climbs out.
“Maddox needs backup,” he says, pulling on a hoodie to blend in better. “Be ready to go as soon as you see us come around the corner with her.”