Investigated

by Maya Daniels

  “Buddy?” the bold one from the gate mutters under his breath. “They are sending us insane ones now.”

  Unzipping my jacket slowly so I don’t spook the shifter, I grin at him, not that he can see it thanks to my helmet. “You keep this one in a dog house, huh, only letting him out at night to do his potty.” When boldie snarls, the wolf in front of me chuckles. “If he mixed with others, he would know I can hear him.”

  When my fingers graze the thick envelope, I pull it out, giving the shifter enough time to see it’s not a weapon. His eyes widen comically when the cream paper is revealed. Even the bold guy sucks in a breath, fortunately staying mute instead of spewing more insults my way.

  “You are much smaller than I expected,” the wolf murmurs, his straight eyebrows pulling low over his eyes. “I thought someone else preceded you here. Franky Drake?” he says my name with uncertainty.

  “The one and only, my friend.” My voice is still muffled from the helmet, and I debate on taking it off when the shifter pivots on his heel, stalking away from me.

  “Come on, we need to get you inside. They are expecting you.” My eyebrows hit my hairline when he starts walking with a purpose toward the gate. “I can’t believe they sent us a boy.”

  The last word stops my hand from lifting the helmet off. The idiot thinks I’m a guy. A boy, in his words. Then I realize what might’ve confused the dumbass. I don’t fight in the typical female style, and there is no one better with daggers and knives in all of Sienna thanks to my father. With a name like Franky, I can see how it can be taken wrong.

  Deciding to take advantage of the misunderstanding, my hand drops to my side, and I turn to get my bike. Luckily for both of them, there is only a scratch on the paint, and that can easily be fixed. Pushing the visor back down, I roll my ride at the looming, open gate of the academy. If the welcome committee is anything to go by, I might just have enough fun here to forget why I was dreading crossing the iron gate.

  “Franky, the boy, at your service,” I tell the bold one cheerfully when I walk past him, but he only stares at me with rounded eyes.

  I liked him better when he called me insane.

  Chapter 7

  My feet falter when I cross the wrought iron gate. There is no mistaking the searing of magic on my skin, a clear indication that the wards placed around the academy are no joke. I feel like my skin is being peeled off with a dull knife and the pain alone forces me to step faster just so I can make it stop. This is some ancient magic, alright. I’ve never felt anything like it.

  Glancing at my two companions, I see that they are not affected by it. Or maybe if guarding the gates is their job they’re just used to it? I have no clue, and no intention of asking, either. As soon as my body crosses over the magic protection, everything around me comes to life. I jerk down, grabbing fast for my bike that I almost drop when the night around me blooms in bright colors.

  The wolf stands to the side, watching me curiously, giving me time to gawk at everything around me. Seeing this, if anyone is aware of the beauty hidden behind these gates, I can see why they will be willing to risk their lives to come here. Thanks to the Fae, Sienna is as surrounded by nature as it is urban. None of it compares to what my eyes looking at now, though.

  Tall, red maple trees, their bright red leaves contrasting against the equally impressive cedars and elms, surround a packed-rock path leading to the top of the hill and the still barely visible building of the academy. Wildlife scatters around undisturbed by our presence, some of the squirrels even cheeky enough to dart my way and back, almost as if they want to play. The sky is clear, not a cloud in sight, and the moon looks much closer because of it. Her silvery glow just adds to the enchanting feel around me, causing the breath to get stuck in my throat.

  A very strange feeling blossoms in my chest, making me relax and become wary at the same time. It feels like I finally found a place where I belong. Like I’ve been meant to be here all along. It sinks its clutches into my soul, trying to blend in with me so we are never apart again.

  It feels like home.

  As soon as that thought hits me, I tense up. Dropping my bike for the second time in one night, my knees bend slightly as I brace for whatever is coming my way. Fingers twitching with the need to hold one of my daggers, I scan the area around me, ignoring the two gatekeepers that are watching me with their heads tilted in confusion. There is magic at play here, and it stinks a hell of a lot like a trap.

  “If you are done gawking, we should move along,” the wolf says, frowning at me like he can’t quite figure me out. “They’re expecting you.”

  Not bothering to answer him, I keep trying to see what exactly set my instincts on overdrive. Everything looks peaceful and beautiful, a little too serene for my liking if I know anything about Sienna. And I know everything there is to know about my town. The colors around me make the white, wide river rocks on the path even brighter, and I follow them with my gaze as far as I can see until they turn to the left, disappearing from view. A slight shimmer in the air, like a light reflecting off a spiderweb, blinks in and out for just a second. Andrius’s voice echoes in my head.

  You need to go to the gate, hand over this envelope, and pass the trial. When they let you in, he will meet you on the other side.

  Roberti said I need to pass the trial before getting on the other side, whatever the hell that means. I didn’t hand over the envelope, but I did show it. Now the wolf is taking me to the academy, leaving one thing missing from the instructions given to me. This must be the damn trial. My mouth opens so I can tell the gatekeepers to get lost, but I only manage to fill my lungs with air. A violent shudder under my feet sends me stumbling to the side, luckily catching myself before I end up on my ass. My arms shoot to the side, forcing me to do a great impersonation of a rope walker while I sway with the waves moving the earth under me. As soon as it stops, another loud thump sends me stumbling again. When the sound of a tree snapping booms in the air, my head snaps to the right just in time to see something barreling in my direction, the thick, ancient trees snapping like twigs, making way for it to reach me.

  “Fuck this shit!” Anger surges through me, and I throw myself at my bike. Yanking it upright, I jump on the Ducati, revving its engine for just a split second. “They want me to pass a trial? They’ll have to catch me first.”

  The bike shoots up the glowing white rocks like an arrow, my arms straining from the force with which I’m gripping the handles while it jumps over the uneven stones. My body is hunched over the bike, my chest almost pressing over the sleek body. The panicked shouts from the two jerks get lost in the sound of my bike and the crashing of trees, directly followed by a roar that curdles the blood in my veins.

  I weave in and out through the narrow road while my heart jackhammers against my ribs and my ears buzz from the rushing of my blood. In no time at all, I can see the sides of the academy peeking through the winding road, and a smile stretches my lips. Take that suckers, I think to myself, excitement bubbling in my chest.

  “Stick that stupid trial up your asses.” Chuckling gleefully, I almost swallow my tongue when two tree trunks, each as wide as a house, slam over the path and block my escape.

  Skidding to a stop, my bike fishtails wildly before I manage to take control and stop an inch from hitting the first fallen tree. Not waiting to see what pushed the ancient trunks to prevent me from escaping, I bolt back the way I came. The rear wheel of the bike kicks up a few of the rocks before getting enough traction to catapult me away from another earsplitting roar.

  “If I survive this”—My voice shakes, amplified in the confines of the helmet—“I’m going to punch the first asshole that meets me on the other side.”

  A crazed burst of laughter escapes me.

  All my instincts come to life. From the corners of my eyes, I can even see the slight movement of the leaves on the trees. The wild beating of my heart stops before resuming at a slow, steady pace, making everything around me appear like it’s
in slow motion. All I can hear is the sturdy thumping of my heart.

  Thump.

  Jerking my bike to the left, I narrowly miss a boulder dropping on the spot where I should’ve been.

  Thump.

  Leveling up my ride, I swerve to the right, seeing an arrow zip by my head, disappearing in the night ahead of me.

  Thump.

  A three trunk falls a few feet in front of me, obstructing my path. Not slowing down, I brace my legs on the bike and, the moment I’m about to do a head-first collision with it, I push off it, sailing through the air.

  Thump.

  I tuck and roll over the rocks, pushing off with my hands, not stopping for a second even when I hear the crashing sound of my now-destroyed bike. Veering off, I head through the trees, changing direction yet again and heading straight for the damn academy. I’m going to get there if it’s the last thing I do.

  Thump.

  A shadow of a body comes at me from my left. Bouncing off the uneven ground, my hands latch onto a branch from a nearby tree, swinging my body in the air before I release it and sail through the forest at high speed. The sound of a body colliding with the trunk of a tree makes me laugh again.

  Thump.

  Landing in a crouch, my head swings left and right before I see the glint of metal reflecting the penetrating silver rays of the moon through the trees. I feel the blade slicing my shoulder, but I’m already moving, avoiding being hit.

  Thump.

  Using the trees for cover, I weave in and out, my feet barely touching the forest floor or disturbing the fallen leaves covering it. An owl hoots somewhere above my head before taking a sudden flight, and I drop on the ground, prostrating myself face down. Another arrow flies not an inch above my shoulders. That could’ve been a clear chest shot. These assholes are getting serious about stopping me from reaching the clearing. Shoving my hands under my chest, I push off the floor and bolt from that spot.

  Thump.

  My eyes lock on the narrowed gaze of a large feline waiting for me in a crouch. The inky-black fur shimmers like oil in the moon’s rays, giving its position away. My hand grabs the blade strapped on my thigh, my hand jerking up and slicing just in time as its massive body pounces on me. Warm fluid covers the skin on my hand when I slice its underbelly, and a pained roar almost bursts my eardrums even through the helmet. The sky opens, and a torrent of rain drenches me from head to toe within a minute.

  Thump.

  I can see the clearing like a beacon, peeking through the residing forest. Leaving the injured shifter behind, still clutching the bloodied blade in my hand, I push with everything in me, heading for that paved area. My shoulder is burning, as are my lungs. The muscles on my legs scream in protest, but the escape of this insanity is so close that I can taste it. It feels like I’ve been running and fighting for my life for eternity. Mouth dry and breath harshly coming through my parted lips, I fling my body from the forest, landing face-first on the paved front area of the academy, the rain pelting my bruised body and bouncing off the helmet.

  Thump. Thump-thump.

  The crunching of gravel makes me lift my head up in time to see two shiny black boots stop right in front of my face, raindrops jumping off them like dancing fairies. My eyes close, my body bracing for the kick I’m expecting to receive. When nothing happens, and the sound of shifting clothes reaches my ears, I reluctantly open my eyes to see someone crouching next to me. A curved finger under my chin lifts my head higher, pulling off the helmet from my head. The sharp intake of breath and the headgear dropping like a rock next to him makes me smile. They realized the boy is not really a boy, I guess. With the last of my strength, I look up, and my gaze locks on the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.

  “Surprise!” I croak before passing out.

  Chapter 8

  “This is absurd and unacceptable.” The booming voice drags me from sleep.

  “I’m sure there is an explanation for all this.” The baritone speeds up my heart, coating me like melted chocolate.

  Where the hell am I, and who are these people? The question floats through my cloudy mind, disappearing like sand through my fingers when I try to cling to it. I can’t remember drinking too much at Raven’s Feather, so why do I feel like I’m having the worst hangover ever? The voices keep talking, blending in together like an annoying hum in the background. It must be the TV. Assuring myself that I’m just messed up from whatever beer Daren has brewed, I try stretching my arms.

  Pain shoots through my entire body, lodging my breath in my throat when a scream is about to escape. Hard, sharp rocks dig into my face when I move, snapping my eyes open. Bolting upright, my head flings wildly as I look around to see where the hell I am. My braid slaps me across the face, and I snatch it, flipping it over my shoulder while reaching for one of the daggers. Seeing the large building in front of me brings all the memories back. At least the rain has stopped. Who knows how long I’ve been laying here like roadkill.

  “Oh, good. She’s awake.” That same booming voice makes me flinch, my head pounding like a war drum.

  “Not thanks to you, that’s for sure.” Glaring at the large man that spoke, I straighten from my fighting stance. “What the hell is wrong with all of you? That’s not a fucking trial back there. It’s a death trap!” Spitting the words at him, my fingers are tingling and crackling from the energy surging up with my anger.

  The jerk has the decency to lift an incredulous bushy eyebrow at me. I guess not many have the guts to speak to him the way I did, but I’m so angry right now I can literally chew his head off. Roberti is right when he says I work best when I’m clueless or cornered. I’m not exactly sure what happened back there, but whatever possessed me saved my life. One thing I know for sure is that they were not testing me.

  They tried to kill me.

  “Trials?” Crossing thick arms over his barreled chest, he scowls at me like I’m a child. “You passed no trials girl. I don’t know how you did it, but you maneuvered around all of them and just dropped here on our front step.”

  “It’s called survival instinct, asshole. You should look it up.” One step towards him is all I manage.

  A chuckle sends shivers up my spine, my belly flip-flopping like I’m about to be sick. Very slowly, my head turns in the direction of the sinful sound, my mind screaming that I really shouldn’t look. Call it a gut feeling, or a premonition if you will, but that shit is real. It will bite you in the ass if you ignore it, just like I’m doing right now. With all alarms blaring through my head, my gaze locks on bright blue eyes.

  The chuckle dies on his full lips, his nostrils flaring up and his square jaw clenching, forcing a muscle to jump on one side of his face. Supernaturals, in general, are beautiful beings. It’s just one more weapon in the array of things in our arsenal we can use to trap our prey. Frozen in the prime of our lives, most species are irresistible to humans at least.

  Not this guy.

  His face is chiseled, so much so I almost feel unworthy to even set my eyes on him. His thick, dark lashes only bring a higher contrast to his bright-blue eyes that shoot daggers at me this very moment. Dark hair surrounds his face, the pale skin standing out harshly against it. If I can describe his face in any accurate way, I might call it deadly perfection. Standing at around six-foot-two, he is slightly taller than my five-eleven, so we are almost at eye level with each other.

  Subconsciously, I wipe my damp palms off the leather of my pants, hoping he can’t hear the crazy beating of my heart. If the nostrils that flare again are any indication, he cannot just hear it, but he can also smell the insane arousal that hit me the moment we locked gazes. Dressed in a white t-shirt stretching to an inch of its life over his broad shoulders and thick biceps, dark jeans wrapping around large thighs as wide as my waist, and boots I remember seeing before I passed out, he stands there like he expects me to do something. Oh, there are a lot of things that come to mind that I would love to do right now, but none of them are appropriate right here in th
e open, or sane for that matter. The smirk on his lips reminds me that I’m still gaping at him like an idiot, and I almost jump out of my skin when bushy eyebrows clears his throat.

  “Who are you?” he booms at me. I guess he has never heard of lowering the tone of his voice when standing a couple feet away from someone.

  “Franky Drake.” Reluctantly pulling my eyes away from the sinful temptation still glaring daggers at me, ignoring the sharp intake of breath I’m sure I wasn’t supposed to hear, I look at the other man. “Invited guest.” Remembering the gatekeepers and their welcoming party, I figure it’s better to get that out of the way first. “I have a letter.”

  Lifting my hands in a gesture of surrender, I keep one hand out, my palm facing him, while very slowly reaching for the zipper of my jacket with the other. I can feel both their eyes like a physical pressure on my hand as it glides the zipper down, then disappears inside my inner pocket. Holding the envelope between two fingers, I slide it out as slow as I can. My body feels like a giant bruise, and I have no desire to test and see if these two know how to fight. Both their bodies look like killing machines, and I could use a break.

  As soon as the letter is freed and up in the air, bushy eyebrows strides right at me, snatching it out of my hand. He tears it up angrily, taking all his frustration out on the poor envelope. Flipping the folded paper open with a snap of his wrist, his eyes flick fast through the dark ink lines scribbled on it. The longer he reads, the wider his eyes get, and dread pools in my stomach. Should I have given this guy the letter? What if it was for the informant Roberti has in the academy? My teeth are doing a great job of eating through my lower lip as I gnaw on it. Too late to grab it back since he has already read more than half of it. So, I hold my breath and pose myself to kill both of them if the letter is a dooming one.