“Oh! You’re Edmund Pike,” I said as I took a step forward, feeling a surge of excitement.
His dark eyes swept over to me. “I am.”
I couldn’t contain the smile that broke out across my face. I never dreamed I’d ever be in the same room with this man, let alone get to talk to him. “Can I just say, I loved your speech at the council’s symposium last year. Your ideas about splicing necro genes to counteract the effects of bloodlust in vampires was revolutionary.”
I’d pored over that speech for days, picking apart every fragment of his research. It was work like his that could help vamps like my aunt.
Surprise flitted over his features, and he turned to face me more. “What is your name?”
“Motley Coven, sir,” I answered.
“Hmm. One of yours, Torne?” he asked, looking over at my headmaster.
Headmaster Torne had his gray hair slicked back, and his dark eyes bore into me. He was a strong elemental with equally strong bloodlines, and he looked at me like a bug stuck to his shoe.
“Yes,” he answered coolly, as if my mere presence was a bother. “She’s one of Thibault’s financial fellowship recipients. She received her scholarship for all five years of her attendance.”
“Ah,” Mr. Pike said, his eyes already dimming from their earlier interest in me. “Anyway, as I was saying, the council…”
And just like that, I was dismissed. My fingers curled into my palms, two fists at my side my only defense against the discrimination in the world.
Stiles shot me a sideways look, but I pulled away from the group. I stalked over to the bar and snatched up another flute of blood, downing it all in one unladylike gulp. I snatched up some dainty finger foods from a passing waiter, shoving three cucumber sandwiches with blood cream into my mouth.
Some of the pain and disappointment leaked through my expression before I could lock the cage around my feelings again. I slammed it into place and straightened my spine, licking the remnant of food off my fingers.
Just one more night. I just needed to get through one more night, and then I could leave Thibault and all of this behind. Spector Inc. was my chance, and I wasn’t going to let anyone ruin it for me.
Chapter 3
Things got...weird.
One moment, the banquet was in full effect, with dressy people drinking and eating and mingling, and the next, we were ushered into a new room. This one was just as large as the one before, but there were no decorations in the sparse space. It was just wood panelled walls and black marble tile, an expanse of windows lined up along one side of the room.
The only embellishment was a huge black rug laid out in the center of the room. The lights were just as dim as in the other room, and as soon as I made my way inside, I noted that there were a dozen men and women in Spector Inc. uniforms standing sentry along the walls.
My steps slowed, a feeling of unease spreading through me. When I saw Stiles, I snagged his jacket sleeve. “What’s going on?” I hissed in his ear.
“Don’t fight it,” he replied back.
My grip tightened. “What the fuck does that mean?”
He shrugged me off as if I were a nuisance. “Spector obviously chose you for a reason. They can make you better, Motley. Stronger. Just don’t fight it, okay? It’s bad if you fight it.”
I blinked at him, and the foreboding feeling in my gut spread throughout my entire body. My fangs dropped down at my rising fear.
“All Spector intern invitees, please step into the middle of the room, and then we will begin.”
I turned to look behind us, just as the door to the room closed with a click. I saw a searing bright light coming through the other side, letting me know that a portal had been opened.
Searching around the room, I saw that all the high society members hadn’t come into this room. There were about two dozen Thibault students, including myself, Headmaster Torne, another man I hadn’t met, and the Spector Inc. guards. That was it.
A slick sheen of sweat broke out on my skin. The other students looked curious, but wary, while the Spector members and Headmaster Torne looked…eager.
“Welcome,” the man standing beside Headmaster Torne said, flashing a charming smile as he looked around the room. My eyes slipped down to the X mark on his pale neck. So he was a necromancer, then.
“My name is Cue Hafferty, and on behalf of Spector President Lorenzo Belvini, I’d like to welcome you all here tonight,” he said warmly. “This is an extremely exclusive internship. Thibault Academy and Spector Incorporated have teamed up for this amazing opportunity, and you’ve been selected to participate in this program that will propel your careers. Each and every one of you fits into the very specialized attributes required, so you should feel very proud.” Hafferty boasted his speech with pride, walking around with his chest puffed out and a grin on his face. “Now, if you accept the internship, please come forward and sign your name at the table behind me, then return to stand in the middle of the room, and we’ll get started inducting you.”
My eyes slid around at the others, noting the various expressions on their faces once more.
“What’s the program?” a necro student asked. “What’s required of us?”
“Unfortunately, all information is classified until you join,” Hafferty answered, looking apologetic. “But I can tell you that you’ll be working with Spector very closely. You’ll be groomed to propel their vision and have opportunities to be placed in leading positions throughout the supernatural communities.”
At that answer, several people moved forward to sign the contract.
“And what exactly is their vision?” I asked.
Hafferty faced me, his friendly smile still in place. “Again, I’m not
