Page 47 of The Devil's Trials

Francesca blinks at me. Her cheeks are flushed, though that could be a combination of the drinks and my proximity, or perhaps frustration based on the pinch of her brows. Still, she doesn’t back down.

Not a chance,” she murmurs, her long, dark lashes shadowing her high cheekbones. “So if you want a real distraction from the trials or the oh-sotragicloss of your soul, I assure you I can provide one.”

The back of my neck prickles at her suggestion. While Francesca and I have, at times, been there for each other like that, it was a long time ago. She isn’t who I want now.

Perhaps she’s what you deserve, a feminine, hauntingly familiar voice croons at the back of my head.A monster, just like you.

I recoil from the thought, putting distance between us.

“Seriously?” She arches a brow at me.

Holding her gaze, I speak firmly. “Whatever happened between us stays in the past where it belongs.”

Francesca studies my face in the silence stretching between us. “You don’t want me?” Her doubt-filled tone raises my hackles, as if telling her nothing is going to happen between us now isn’t convincing enough.

“I don’t,” I say firmly, so as to not leave anything up to interpretation.

“You used to.” She prowls closer again. “Especially when I did that thing with my tongue on your—”

“Enough,” I cut her off, my tone sharp. “You wanted a spot on my council, and I gave you one. I thought we had an understanding of what that meant and what it didn’t. Do I need to clarify things for you?”

She scowls. “Of course not. I’m simply trying to be there for you. To help you keep your head clear of certaindistractionsso you’re at your strongest for the remaining trials. You don’t need to be an ass about it.”

I grind my molars at her insinuation, though I can’t refute it. “We should go back to the bar,” I finally say, walking out of the room without waiting for her.

I wave the bartender over and point to a bottle of scotch on the middle shelf behind her. When she hands it over, I turn away, unscrewing the bottle and taking a long swig. The burn is immediate, a welcome distraction from the storm brewing in my chest. As I tip the bottle to my lips again, the room fades into a blur of sounds and moving bodies. With a deep sigh and another burning shot, I close my eyes and resign myself to get lost in it.

TWELVECAMILLE

“I have a bone to pick with you,” I tell Noah the next morning when we meet at his car. I didn’t bring it up on the drive home from Ballard yesterday because I wanted to give myself a chance to cool down instead of snapping at him. I had hoped that sleeping on it would diffuse my anger at being blindsided by news of the hunter tests.

“Uh-oh,” he says with a grin, getting behind the wheel and setting his travel mug of coffee in the cup holder.

“I’m serious.” I buckle my seat belt as he starts the car. “When were you going to tell me about the tests? That seems like something my mentor should have brought up to me instead of finding out from someone in class.”

He sighs as we drive out of the parking garage. “I wasn’t trying to keep it from you. I was waiting until you were ready—”

“There you go again with that shit,” I interrupt in a snippy tone. “You don’t get to—”

“Actually, I do.” He cuts me a look before returning his attention to the road. “I’m your mentor. I decide what you can and can’t handle, and when, based on what I see in class and our private lessons. I hate to break it to you, Cam, but you have a long way to go until you’re ready to be tested.”

I recoil as if he just smacked me across the face. My cheeks flame with embarrassment and my eyes burn. I stare out the windshield, willing myself not to cry, but all I want to do is curl into a ball and hide.

“When I think you’re ready, we’ll talk about it,” he adds.

I can’t bring myself to respond. I have no idea what I’d say, anyway. I can’t refute his words, and I hate that. So, I pull out my phone and send Harper a text.

Are you around today? I could use a chat and I miss you.

Her reply comes a minute later.

Heading to class now and training right after. Can I call you tonight? Unless this is an SOS, in which case, I’ll ditch my lecture.

I chew my lip, typing out a quick response.

All good. Noah and I are heading to Ballard now. Give me a shout when you’re home.

I pocket my phone and turn up the music, hoping to fill the silence without having to talk.

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