Academy of Shifters: Hell Week by Marisa Claire

Author:Marisa Claire [Claire, Marisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Torment Publishing
Published: 2019-09-19T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

My hair was still noticeably damp when I dropped down from the tunnel onto the uppermost bleacher in the Shiftnasium arena, so after sniffing the air for unwanted company and finding none, I made a beeline for the locker room to rinse out the incriminating odor of chlorine.

Leaving my clothes on one of the wooden benches, I pushed aside the mildewed curtain and cringed my way into the stall-free shower area where I was almost certain to contract some sort of dreaded foot fungus. The sawdust we carried in after lessons in the arena had a tendency to cake in the grout lines and gunk up the drains. Bloodshed had been a common occurrence during Self Defense class, and in other upper-level P.E. courses, too, I would imagine, so there was also the potential threat of those contaminants lingering about.

I turned on the first faucet I came to and stepped into the icy spray. My skin pimpled and trembled under the relentless stinging, but it felt like something I deserved. As I stood there, two cycles of thought alternated through my mind.

First and worst: Laith Brighton was gone. Depending on how far away we were from an airport, he might already be in the sky. And for how long? I had wasted my time fuming and moping instead of learning the details of his plans. Was it a direct flight, or would there be a layover in some other interesting location? Would they go straight to the shifter monastery, or do some sight-seeing first? Wasn’t that how summers abroad worked? I didn’t know a lot about things to do in India, but I wasn’t wild about the idea of Laith and Lenore riding an elephant through the jungle or sitting side-by-side in some Bollywood movie theatre.

Even if she is mated for life.

That thought started the second loop.

Diego Machado was certifiably insane. Not necessarily in a dangerous way like my brother, but the old jaguar definitely spent a little too much time hitting the catnip, in my opinion. A TBI that rendered him telepathically deaf and mute? A freakin’ witch that sold him a younger version of his own face? If that was even true. I mean, obviously the witch part was not, no matter what, but there was also no way to prove which face was real. He wanted me to believe it was my nose that had shown me the truth, but that could be part of his Manip trick. He had to be a Manip. Unless there was some glamour gift I just didn’t know about yet. Why hadn’t I asked Kanze the name of the book where he’d read about the various shifter gifts?

Because you don’t take an interest in other human beings…

I pushed that thought aside. It was not time for the self-loathing cycle. I needed to stay on the Crazy Diego train. Because that last thing he’d tried to drop on me, The Royal Order of the Fur and the Fang? He had been so smug and so sure I would want to know more, but I showed him.

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