Page 83 of Wicked Chains
I try to ignore it. I make straight for the serving line, grab a tray, and keep my eyes on the food—roast chicken with sage and apple stuffing, fluffy mashed potatoes with heaps of melting butter,golden and airy popovers, and fresh cranberry sauce with orange zest. I grab a bottle of water, say thank you to the server, and scan the room for a free spot.
I’m halfway to a table by the window, close to the door but off to the side, the one place you can sit with your back to the wall—when a voice cuts through the din of the crowd.
“Rose Smith. How nice of you to join us.”
No. No, no, no.
The room goes silent so fast it’s like someone pressed mute. Even the cafeteria workers look up, scoops of mashed potatoes arrested mid-air.
Helena stands at the head table, flanked by two creepy Blood Moon Coven members, her red hair coiled tight and her lips painted a shade of violet that no person with any complexion looks good in. Her eyes are on me, cold and gleaming.
I take a deep breath, set my tray down on the table, and turn to face her.
“Headmistress Helena,” I say, dipping in the world’s worst curtsy.
A ripple of laughter moves through the room. I hear Thorne’s nasal giggle, which is the closest thing on earth to nails on a chalkboard.
Helena is not amused.
I glance around for Lucien and Soren, but neither is in sight.
“Your recent escapades have not gone unnoticed.”
For a minute I panic, wondering if she’s talking about my meeting with Ollie, but if that were the case she wouldn’t be accosting me in the dining room.
I feign ignorance. “No idea what you’re talking about, sir.”
She cocks her head. “I wonder, Rose, do you think you’re above the rules here? It’s unacceptable.”
There’s an excited murmur that runs through the room. This is what they live for, the rich little monsters. A public execution.
Helena steps toward me, her heels clicking on the polished floor. “I mean your disrespect to me, Miss Smith. To this institution.Youare unacceptable. You will show respect. Kneel.”
For a second, I think she’s kidding. Then I realize she’s not. There’s an expectant hush. I glance around the room and see that Thorne looks like she’s about to puke with anticipation.
I shake my head. “Hard pass.” She can’t control my body like Ash can, and I will notkneelfor Helena Wickersly. I surreptitiously dismiss Hank, keeping him out of harm's way this time. If she wants to fuck with me, fine. But she does not get to fuck with my frog.
Helena stops two feet in front of me. Her voice is lethal. “Kneel.”
I don’t move.
Helena’s eyes are slits.
But I won’t kneel. Not for her.
Helena leans in, her lips at my ear. “You don’t want to test me, Rose. I can do things to you that make Ash look like a choirboy.”
“Then do it,” I say.
She presses down with the magic, and for a second I think I’m going to bite it right here. Instead, I bite my lip hard enough to taste blood.
I feel a rush of air and then a blur of black suit and pale skin.
Lucien appears at my side, cool as you please, and catches me under the arm. His touch is gentle but unyielding. “Enough,” he says to Helena, and his voice is pure ice. “You’re making a spectacle of yourself, Wickersly.”
“I am asserting order,” Helena replies. “Something you seem to have forgotten, vampire.”
“You call this order? You’re humiliating a student to prove a point.”
