Page 6 of Academy of the Wicked, Year One

"You men don't know how to aim into a toilet!" I snap back. "So now I'm going to find out if you're genetically incapable of comprehending basic targeting or if you do it on purpose just to piss us females off!"

Nikolai's eyes narrow.

"Us females?"

I groan, letting my head fall back.

"Yes! I'm a girl! A woman! Now can I please go before sunrise? I have a sister to save and a new anatomy to figure out!"

"There hasn't been a woman at Wicked Academy in over 500 years," Damien says softly.

"Yeah, I know, very progressive of you all?—"

"Because they die at sunrise," Nikolai cuts in. "Unless they're feeding puppets."

Say WHAT now?!

That brings me up short.

"I'm sorry, what's a feeding puppet?"

The two princes exchange a look that makes my blood run cold. Whatever a feeding puppet is, I have a feeling I really don't want to find out.

"Think of it as a mutually beneficial arrangement," Damien says with calculated casualness. "The female gets to live, and the male students get to...practice their feeding techniques."

My jaw drops.

"That is the most horrific thing I've ever—wait." I narrow my eyes at him. "You're trying to scare me into confessing something. Well, the joke's on you because I already told you I'm a woman. And clearly the sunrise thing is bull because I've been here since yesterday afternoon scoping the place out."

"Fascinating," Nikolai murmurs. "The magic protecting you must be incredibly powerful. Old magic. Which brings us back to the question of who sent you here."

"No one sent me! I came on my own because my sister is dying and I needed the chalice and—" I yank at the ropes again in frustration. "Why aren't you listening to me?"

"Oh, we're listening," Damien says, pushing off from the desk and approaching my chair. "We're just having trouble believing that someone powerful enough to bypass our wards, glamour themselves male, and survive past sunrise just happened to stumble in here following a fairy tale about a magic cup."

Putting it that way, it does sound a bit suspicious.

Just a bit…

But I don't have time to argue about this. Somewhere in this wicked paradise is the key to my sister’s survival. She’s back home, far away, slipping further into the pools of death’s row with each passing second.

And now I don't even have the chalice to pin my hopes on.

"The sun will be up soon," Nikolai observes. "I suppose we'll find out the truth one way or another."

Terror grips me.

What if they're not lying about the sunrise? What if the glamour fails? What if?—

The shadows in the corner of the room began to writhe until they suddenly surged forward like an ink stain spreading across the parchment.

My heart leaps into my throat as Cassius emerges from the darkness, but this time he's not alone.

Another one? Really? How many supernaturally gorgeous men does one academy need?

"Mortimer Kaine," the newcomer announces without preamble, his voice resonating with power that makes the air itself feel heavier. "Necromancer Reaper of the Seventh Order."

A what of the what now?

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