“Perfect! Then we’ll look there.”
Before I could warn Larissa, someone else appeared in the room.
“Where are you going to look for what?”
Grace was standing in the doorway. When I saw what she was holding in her arms, I forgot all my problems for a moment.
“In a café...” I stuttered.
Grace walked over to my bed, sat down and placed the little tuft of golden fur on my white blanket. It had its eyes closed and was sleeping peacefully.
“Is that a puppy?” Bayla sounded confused.
Larissa laughed. “What do you think? That this is what a kitten looks like?”
“Possibly,” Bayla said, annoyed, and Larissa rolled her eyes.
“Kittens are small, naked and ugly,” Larissa whispered and came over to the bed. “Oh, how cute.”
I looked at the sleeping puppy, which was the size of a paperback book. He turned his head briefly and curled up even more so that the tip of his nose disappeared under his paws, and his long, floppy ears covered his eyes.
Then I looked at Grace, who was sparkling at me with her brown eyes.
“It’s for the fish. I thought you might need some company when I’m not around.” She winked at me, and I couldn’t help but hug her with gratitude. “I thought he’d live a little longer.”
Her words drove away the pleasant feeling inside me that the puppy had just triggered. Instead, a feeling of unease spread through me.
What if I had another outburst?
I stared at the bundle of fur.
I was dangerous. And this dog was absolutely not safe in my presence. Because sooner or later it would happen again, and I would destroy everything around me. It was only a matter of time before everything that had built up inside me would burst out again.
Chapter 48
Adrian
It got colder. Just the way I liked it.
The fresh evening air blew through my hair and messed it up in an unpleasant way.
Bastien had called me and he was never late. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something must be wrong.
I was standing alone on campus, and it was now 11 pm.
At this time of night, only hormone-driven couples or drunken idiots from the Midnights came here.
Everything seemed empty today. It was abnormally quiet. A few hours ago, feral Copelands had been playing with their balls here and that annoying reporter girl had tried to interview Miles.
Her curiosity would eventually get her killed, as it often happened with reporters who stuck their noses too deeply into our family affairs.
I glanced over at the largest oak tree on campus, under which, of course, none of the dogs were hanging out at this hour.
“The Senseque are dangerous,” David had warned Miles, who was considering running for election in March just to piss them off. “You shouldn’t aggravate them in their territory.”
And while Miles, as usual, wouldn’t give a shit about David’s warning, David’s words bothered me, until now.
None of them knew that I was the most dangerous person on this campus.
A very familiar black BMW pulled into the campus parking lot, almost too slow to pass for one of us. But that was Bastien. Adapted to humans, like no one else, and yet one of our strongest.
He got out of the car and his crooked tie immediately caught my eye.
Untypical. Unprofessionalism was not one of his characteristics. Something was up, and I could literally smell it as the scent of cigarettes and rum wafted toward me.
Bastien didn’t drink rum. Never. He preferred scotch. And he didn’t smoke, either.
“Where the hell have you been?”
Bastien’s gray hairline shone in the moonlight. Still, he looked younger than he actually was.
He looked around as if someone was following him. Not a good sign.
“Tristan is here.”
The tension in my chest returned.
I hadn’t expected this.
