Page 43 of The Devil's Trials

“What do your instincts tell you to do at this moment?” he asks loudly enough for the class to hear.

“Scream,” I offer plainly, “but I know that’s useless.”

Noah makes no move to let me go. “Your instincts can be clouded by emotion, including fear.” His grip tightens, and I suck in a breath, unable to ignore the fluttering sensation in my stomach. “Which is why we drill this training into you,” he continues, “so you don’t have to think. You’ll act without hesitation and, ideally, avoid a situation like this.”

“I get that,” a girl with bright red hair speaks up, then asks, “But what would you do if you ended up in this situation?” She’s wearing a matching soft blue workout set, which stands out against the sea of black outfits around her. I like her already.

Noah’s responding chuckle vibrates against my back, and I press my lips together, cursing this stupid exercise. “I wouldn’t be in this situation.”

I roll my eyes, trying to pull away instantly.

“Nope,” he murmurs, “we’re not done yet.” He clears his throat, speaking to the class again. “If Camille had a dagger, she would do her damn best to get her hand around it and stab wherever she could until I let go.”

He finally does, and I immediately take a huge step away from him, my chest rising and falling faster than it should.

“The very moment you get free, you need to attack. Don’t give them a second chance to capture you.”

Without thinking, I strike out with my fist. There’s a fleeting moment where I think I’m going to get a shot on him, but he dodges at the last second, his gaze sharp, focused.

“Plant your feet wider apart,” he instructs, his eyes locked on me as if we’re the only people in the room.

I adjust my stance and throw a punch before he can bark another order at me. This time I aim lower, my fist connecting with his ribs, and am met with a satisfying grunt. Pain flares across my knuckles, but it’s worth it for the impressed look stealing over Noah’s features.

My god, it’s as if I’m fifteen all over again.

I shouldn’t give two shits about impressing Noah, and yet…

Whirling away from him, I blurt, “Who’s next?”

Without waiting for a response, I return to where I was standing before getting called on.

Try as I might, I can’t shake the weird bubbly sensation in my chest. And every time Noah’s eyes land on me over the next hour, I look away. It’s ridiculous, and I want to kick myself every time it happens.

“Take a five-minute break. When you come back, pair up.”

I make a quick trip to the bathroom and gulp down half my water bottle, catching eyes with the redhead I noticed earlier. I try for a friendly smile, and relief floods through me when she returns it and approaches.

“Hey, I’m Sierra. You’re Camille, right?”

“Yeah. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” she offers, propping her hands on her hips. “Partners?”

I laugh softly, nodding. “Sounds good.”

“I haven’t seen you here before,” she comments as we wait for the rest of the class to pair up.

“Uh, yeah.” I panic over how much to say and land on, “I left the academy for a while and I’m just coming back to it.”

Her brows lift. “Why’d you leave?”

She doesn’t know?

I glance around the room. Maybe these trainees are too young to recognize who I am. Frankly, that would be ideal.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry or anything. I was just curious. You can absolutely tell me to get lost.”

My gaze flits back to Sierra. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just not used to people being involved with the organization not already knowing.” I lick the dryness from my lips. “My sister was killed by a demon a little over five years ago. I left after that.”

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