Page 125 of Storm of Shadows
“I’m not like you. I won’t take another–”
“Ahhh,” Madame says, cutting across the professor’s words – her own suddenly shrill and full of tension. “Unless you’ve already found–”
“I haven’t,” he says abruptly.
There’s a pause, one full of tension. I tiptoe forward, peering through the gaps in the bookcases until I see them.
They stand facing each other – Madame in a long black gown, cut low and clinging to her body. The professor dressed in his suit. Both wear long black cloaks pinned to their shoulders. Their hair is tussled, red lipstick smeared across their mouths and I was obviously wrong again. Maybe they are arguing now but before that they definitely were getting it on.
“You’ve found someone,” Madame says, her voice quiet now and full of tension.
“No,” Fox says, but the way his shoulders stiffen show me he’s lying. Madame spots it too.
“You can’t lie to me, Fox Tudor. You never could.” She tilts her head to one side, wiping the lipstick from her mouth. “Who are they?” Professor Tudor stares back at her and says nothing.
“You don’t want to share? And yet you used to be so eager to please me in every possible way.” She smiles cruelly and steps towards him, snaking her hand down his torso.
“Not any more,” he growls, snatching her hand away so violently, she stumbles, nearly losing her balance.
I gasp inadvertently at his violent behavior and immediately both their heads snap my way, eyes flashing in the dim light.
Shit!
“There’s someone here,” Madame says.
I smother another gasp, turn and race out of the library as quickly as I can, their footsteps discernible behind me.
“Stop!” the madame calls out.
But nothing in the world could compel me to stop. I don’t think they saw me and I don’t want them to know it was me spying on them.
I don’t stop until I’m outside. Here, I spin my vision around, looking for somewhere to hide. Choosing one of the nearest towers, I duck inside, closing the door quietly behind me and sinking into the shadows of the stairwell.
I hear their footsteps again, out on the cobblestones and then their whispered voices.
“They’re gone,” Professor Tudor says.
“Did you see them? Did you see who it was?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Hmmm,” she says, not sounding convinced. “I don’t like secrets, Fox.”
“I am aware,” he says, but then their voices fade as they move away.
I wait in the dark as long as I can bear it, just in case they are still lingering out on the pathway, and then I creep back out and hurry as quickly as I can back to my room. Inside, I beeline straight for my wardrobe, retrieving my bag from its hiding place and checking the contents. I shouldn’t have left it unguarded for so long – the entire night. However, everything is as I left it and once I’ve hidden my bag again, I climb into bed, curl up under the covers and go over the events in the library.
The conversation was strange – their relationship even stranger. Fox Tudor clearly hates Madame Bardin and yet if I’d been there a matter of minutes earlier, I’m sure I’d have seen the two of them all over each other. And the way she talked made it seem as if their relationship has been a long one. Maybe it’s one of those love–hate things. Maybe they’re exes. Maybe the sex is fueled by hate.
I imagine hate-fucking Beaufort Lincoln and decide it really is time to get out of bed because those thoughts are surprisingly hot.
I take a much needed cold shower – one advantage of living in this tower – and go in search of my friends.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Briony
The following day, Fly and I are going over likely trial scenarios yet again on our way to Professor Tudor’s class, when we find our path blocked by Madame Bardin. One moment the path ahead is empty, the next she’s standing right there – usual red lipstick painted on her lips, usual stern expression fixed to her face.
