Page 108 of Lady Killer

The man was as pretentious as Locke, but far less interesting.

After spotting him in the library, Nixon and I had traded off, and I took over watching Starbright while he had trailed the borehole for the rest of the day.

Since then, one of us had eyes on him most of the time. The man went to his classes, the lab where he spent most of his time, and the gym. On the weekends, he went out with a group of equally stodgy-looking fuckers.

Two weeks later, and we were no closer to linking him to the Virgin Sacrifice Killer than we were at the start.

Stalking Luz? Five out of five stars, highly recommend.

Stalking spoiled, rich prats with no life? Zero out of five stars. Would not recommend.

All of this time wasted tailing him for information when we could have been torturing it out of him.

It’s better to ask for forgiveness . . .

No!I shook my head.Bad Everest.

I was on thin ice with Lucian ever since the whole lips incident, and I needed to save all my brownie points for Luz.

My love could be a grumpy Gus when pushed too far.

It was March 1st tomorrow, which meant there were seventy-three days left in the term.

I was fighting between the urge to go rogue and get answers and the need to save my shenanigans for when they counted the most.

Self-restraint was entirely unlike me, but for my Starbright, there was nothing I wouldn’t do.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t improvise.

The lights in the student offices housed in Erstveld Lab went off, and shortly thereafter, Clayton exited the building with a colleague before they went their separate ways.

It was late enough that no one was about, and I strolled leisurely into the building, swiping the pass that Locke had procured for me. One of the benefits of being an unofficial Blackwell was that there was nowhere on campus I couldn’t go.

I jogged up a set of stairs, then padded down a hall of faded linoleum tiles, the familiar scent of bleach lingering in the air. If anyone ran into me, I looked no different from the average aging PhD student you would find laboring after hours.

“201 . . . 202 . . . 203!”

With another quick swipe of my pass, I was in the offices of the pharmacology doctoral candidates, along with some of the professors as well.

Scanning the hall, a I spied a room with Clayton’s name on it.

No swipe card needed here, the ancient metal door swung open with ease to reveal four pockmarked desks,several filing cabinets, and a sagging bookshelf that obscured most of the room’s one tiny window.

Based on the nameplates, the first desk belonged to an Aadesh Singh, the next a Tiffany Chow, and then, jackpot, Clayton Royal.

His desk, however, revealed nothing.

Unsurprisingly, he had taken his laptop with him, and all that remained were some hastily scrawled notes that I didn’t even pretend to understand.

“Like I said, dull as they fucking come.”

Aadesh, Tiffany, and a Jason Slater, the owner of the fourth desk, also appeared to be equally dull.

I refused to give up, though. Something was here. And I would be damned if I let a slimy little fuck like Royal slip through my fingers.

It was bad enough that Aaron had gotten close enough to Starbright. I wouldn’t let anything like that ever happen again.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

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