Page 25 of The Ordeals
He chuckles as I brush slowly past him, before sauntering off to the end of the stack. ‘I’ll try my best, DeWinter.’
‘Thank you, by the way,’ I throw over my shoulder, as I start back in the reading space, where I can find the correct stack and begin my search for the next section. ‘For giving me the heads-up last night on the food. But obviously, I do not owe you. We’re still even.’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘You must have been mistaken. I did no such thing.’
‘You warned me about the salad leaves, you put down your fork,’ I say, frowning. ‘Then Mallory choked on his dinner, like he’d been—’
‘Poisoned?’ Alden sighs softly. ‘You assume because I’m a botanist that I know my way around manipulating the food on someone’s plate from several feet away without a single person in a roomrifewith botanists noticing? I’m flattered, honestly. But also, do you really assume I would be so ruthless as to murder a fellow hopeful at the first opportunity? For a start, it’s forbidden outside an Ordeal, and second … how uncreative.’
‘I thought—’
‘I mean, you’re right, if I had the opportunity and was sure I wouldn’t get caught or eliminated from the Ordeals, I would havegladlyshoved Mallory down the nearest steep set of stairs. He went to the same school as me and my brother, and I’d already been warned that Mallory’s game plan was to just start picking off other hopefuls in the Ordeals so he’d guarantee himself a place in the final twenty by default. But that wasn’t me, DeWinter. You’ve got the wrong botanist. If indeed it was a botanist at all.’
‘It really wasn’t you?’
‘No,’ he says firmly, walking alongside me. ‘All I remember is looking up and seeing you all dressed up, surrounded by Mallory and his cronies. I figured you could hold your own, but I didn’t like to think what would happen if Mallory or one of his ilk chose to target you.’
‘How comforting,’ I remark dryly. ‘Knowing I have a bodyguard.’
He chuckles again, the sound like silk in the dark. ‘Actually, I didn’t thinkyouwere the one in need of a bodyguard. And apparently, I was right. May the bastard rest in peace.’
I whirl on him. ‘Are you accusing me, Locke?’
He shrugs. ‘All we know for certain is that it appears we have a murderer in our midst. And you know what that means? The Ordeals have truly begun. There’s always at least one, but usually, they stick to the Ordeals themselves to carry out any underhand tactics. Most don’t have the stomach for actually murdering people they’ve just met either, but if you’re desperate and ruthless enough, well I suppose it’s tempting. It’s rare though for someone to risk their place as a hopeful so early on, or so I’ve heard … but I suppose it can’t be ruled out.’
I lift up the lamp so I can make out every shift of his features. Either he’s a stone-cold killer and a very good liar, or he really doesbelieve I might have poisoned Mallory last night. ‘All right. So let’s say youdidn’tjust murder Mallory, or warn me that his meal was poisoned. And it wasn’t me, which you can believe or not; that’s really up to you. Final question then, Locke,’ I say, pinning my gaze to his, searching for the slightest tell, the smallest hint that he’s not being honest with me. ‘How good are you at lying?’
His eyes glitter briefly, that dimple reappearing. ‘Lying is the most fun you can have with your clothes on, DeWinter. Surely you know that?’
‘If you’re referring to when we met in the Pickled Gargoyle …’ I say, flicking him a look, wondering how far I can push him. ‘Perhaps it would have been more fun with our clothesoff. You certainly gave me everything I wanted without having to remove a single garment.’
‘And you think you somehow won?’ he asks softly and, despite myself, a small thrill runs through me at the memory of his touch.
‘I always get what I want, Locke.’ Moving towards B for botany, I sense his presence once more, his gaze raking down my back. ‘Yes?’
‘Well, you’re in the wrong place if you want to prepare for the first Ordeal, partner. Unless of course you want to head back to Hope, and find out just how much fun we can have without our clothes on …’
Crossing my arms, I turn, a retort forming on my tongue and find him grinning.
‘It was too easy.’ He holds up his hands. ‘Seriously though, DeWinter. We need to train.’
Chapter 9
A Poison Garden
‘Climb that?’ I ask incredulously, staring up at the cliff face. ‘Absolutely not.’
‘It’s a way that hopefuls train,’ Alden says, pointing at it, then at the other hopefuls preparing to scale the cliff nearby. Some routes seem harder, but it looks like we are starting with a shorter climb, with no jutting rocks and plenty of foot and hand rungs. ‘You learn dexterity of movement, how to conquer your fears and how totrustyour partner. It’s called the wall.’
‘Trust you?’ I say, turning to him and snorting. ‘Unlikely.’
He shrugs, crossing his arms over his sculpted chest. He’s changed into a white, tight-fitting top and I’m struggling not to stare. No one should look thatgoodat this hour. I swallow thickly, remembering the man I met in the bar, body pressed close, lips hot against mine. Gods, it’s a struggle to focus. ‘Then walk back up the steps and fail your first attempt at the wall before you’ve even tried,’ he continues, snapping me out of my daydream as I catch him running an appraising eye over my own outfit. ‘My brother told me this was a great training exercise for the Ordeals, but if those skin-tight workout clothes are purely for show and not foractuallyworking out …’
I sigh deeply, readjusting the top I’m wearing. Alden said to wear workout clothes, so I donned one of my sleeveless beige topsand skin-tight leggings, along with shoes that are supple and good for training. I’m no stranger to exercise, it’s ingrained into me to train, but this, scaling acliff? It’s not even breakfast time yet, the sun just lightening the world around us, and my stomach tightens. I calculate the drop if I fall and realise that anywhere past the halfway mark would not end well. Broken bones at the least, at most …
‘Map the route. Let’s get this over with.’
Alden suppresses a smile, talking me through the route we’re going to take. Then he drops his hands to a potful of chalk and indicates for me to do the same.
