Page 32 of Wicked Chains
"I know," I tell him. "I'm worried too."
After a while, I have to accept that Drake isn't here. Maybe he's avoiding me. Maybe he can't get back. Maybe Ash did something more permanent this time. The thought makes my blood run cold.
"Let's get out of here," I say to Hank. "I'm starving, and you've been stuck in my pocket all morning. We deserve a little snack."
The dining hall is mostly empty when I arrive, with just a few stragglers grabbing late breakfasts or early lunches. I keep my head down, grabbing a chocolate chip muffin and a bottle of orange juice from the counter. I really should find out what frogs eat. I slip a bottle of water into my bag too, thinking Hank might appreciate some hydration.
The cafeteria worker eyes me with barely concealed suspicion.
“All set," I say, plastering on a fake smile. "Just grabbing a quick snack."
"Shouldn't you be in class?"
I shrug.
Her expression says it's not her job to police my attendance. She waves me through, and I make a beeline for the exit before anyone else can question why I'm wandering the halls when I should be learning how to turn water into wine or whatever magic school stuff I'm missing.
The weather is crisp; it’s cold but not unbearable, and the sky is a clear, bright blue that’s almost blinding after the dark interior of the school. I find a hidden bench behind the east wing of the building, partially sheltered by an enormous weeping willow tree that still has most of its leaves. It's the perfect spot to hide from prying eyes, with a decent view of the grounds so I can see anyone approaching.
"Here we go, Hank," I say, setting my frog familiar on the bench beside me. "Breakfast is served."
I tear off a small piece of my muffin and offer it to him. He eyes it dubiously, then turns his head.
"Right. I guess chocolate chip muffins are not really frog fare."
Hank makes a small croaking noise in agreement, then flicks out his tongue to grab a beetle crawling up the arm of the bench.
Fair enough.
I unwrap the rest of my muffin and take a big bite, suddenly realizing how hungry I am. Between the drama with Ash and Helena, and the search for Drake, I hadn't noticed my stomach trying to eat itself.
"So, what's our plan?" I ask Hank between bites. "We can't keep playing along with these psychopaths forever. There's got to be a way out of this mess."
Hank blinks his big eyes at me.
"Yeah, you’re right. Easier said than done." I sigh and take another bite of my muffin. "But we've got to try something. Maybe if we can find Drake again, he'll have some ideas. He's been here for, what, a century? He knows some secrets about this place."
The sound of approaching footsteps makes me tense. I instinctively reach for Hank, ready to hide him in my pocket again, but I'm too slow.
"Miss Smith." Lucien. "I believe you're supposed to be in Professor Pimley's class at the moment."
I don't bother looking up at him. "Good morning to you too, Lucien. And yes, I am fully aware of my schedule. I just decided that after being threatened by not one but two megalomaniacs this morning, I deserved a mental health break."
He moves around the bench to stand in front of me, blocking my view and the weak November sun. His crisp suit is immaculate as always, not a wrinkle or speck of dust to be found. His crimson eyes study me, like I’m a strange bug.
"The headmistress summoned you?" There's something in his tone I can't quite read.
"And Ash," I confirm, taking another bite. "They had a little power struggle over who gets to torture me more. It was super fun."
Lucien's voice changes almost imperceptibly, but I clock it. "What did they want?"
I shrug. "Same old, same old. Helena wanted to remind me that I'm property of the Blood Moon Coven now, and that she'll make my life hell if I step out of line. Ash wanted to remind Helenathat I'm his property specifically." I make air quotes around "property" with my free hand. "You know, typical Thursday morning stuff."
Lucien doesn't respond immediately. Instead, he looks around, taking in our secluded spot. "You shouldn't be out here alone."
"I'm not alone," I say, gesturing to Hank. "I've got my good friend Hank here."
Lucien's gaze drops to Hank, who puffs up slightly as if trying to look more intimidating. The corner of Lucien's mouth twitches, almost a smile but not quite.
