Page 38 of Avalon Tower

“She’s going to get us in and out of the veil. That’s her role, isn’t it? The transportation. A public bus,” says Tarquin, his pinched expression brightening. “That’s what she is. A public bus. Everyone gets a ride, don’t they?”

Gritting my teeth, I cross over to him. I won’t let them get in my head. “Okay,” I say, as I stand in front of Tarquin. “We should—”

He lunges forward, his dulled blade smashing into my stomach. Although it isn’t sharp enough to cut, the force of the impact steals my breath. A second later, the pain blazes through my abdomen.

I double over, holding my stomach.

“Wait,” I wheeze.

He rams the knife at me again, this time jamming it into my collar bone. The impact makes my teeth snap shut. I taste blood.

“Killed you twice, public bus,” Tarquin hisses. He turns with a crooked smile. “I don’t know why we let all these commoners in. Do you know, Horatio? Reeks of desperation.”

Somewhere nearby, Horatio guffaws.

“They’re trying to prove a point about equality, but it’s nonsense, isn’t it?” Tarquin adds. “Letting in the unqualified and unskilled just to seem modern.”

His gaze flicks back to me. “What is your parentage, exactly? Did your mother walk the streets? Is Camelot so inclusive now we’ve got whores’ children walking through our hallowed halls?”

He swings again. I shift to the left out of reflex and desperation. The blade whistles by my ear. Tarquin is momentarily out of balance. But I have a knife, too. Frantically, I lunge and try to stab, but by the time I do, he jumps back.

I’m panting, already feeling the crushing wheeze in my breath. Serana gave me tips before we stepped into class, and I’m trying to follow them. Stand ready. Watch my opponent’s eyes. Wait for an opportunity.

He lunges at me clumsily, and I jump back. He swipes again, and I move.

Sure, he’s strong, but I’m small and probably faster. That’s how you beat someone like him, I imagine. Tire him out. Shift out of reach. Wait for the moment.

A cry rings out to our left, and Tarquin glances that way, distracted. This is my chance. I leap forward—

He pivots and grabs my wrist, bending it. Pain shoots up my arm. With a grunt, I drop the knife. In a smooth movement, he shoves me to the floor. Before I can push myself up, he’s sitting on top of me. Adrenaline crackles through my veins, and my heart flutters. He wasn’t distracted, nor was he slow at all. That was a trick.

He’s pinning me down, gripping both my wrists in one of his hands. A strand of his slick hair comes loose, and his cheeks go red, eyes wild with glee. At the end of his long, thin nose, his nostrils are more flared than ever. With his free hand, he presses the knife against my throat. I can’t breathe.

“Got you where I want you.”

A voice, angry and venomous, echoes in my mind. You need to be put in your place. You should have been nice when you had the chance, and now look at what you’ve done. Whore.

I can’t answer the voice. Tarquin leans closer to me, a drop of drool glistening on his lower lip. “Killed you again,” he whispers. “And again. And again. I told you. You’re not meant to be here. They’re letting you in because you’re the transportation. You’re just a cheap ride.”

His face is so close to mine that I can see every pore. I struggle, but I can’t push him off. I try to knee him in the back, but my leg hardly moves. My lungs burn, and my vision darkens. My chest feels as if I might explode with the pressure. I need to breathe—

Suddenly, he’s off me. I inhale a long, ragged breath, the world swimming into focus. I cough, gasping for air. I feel half dead.

This has been a disaster.

But somehow, Tarquin is injured, too. He’s lying on the floor, groaning, blood dripping from his lip.

I turn to see Raphael standing above us both. “That wasn’t going well.”

I rasp, “It really wasn’t.”

Raphael’s frigid gaze slides to Tarquin. Sighing, he slides his hands into his pockets. “If you kill one of our only two Sentinels, Pendragon, I will end your life.” He flashes a dark smile. “And I don’t give a fuck who your great-grandmother was.”

“You’d better give a fuck, demi-Fey.” Tarquin dabs at his bloody lip. “And how does this mongrel expect to function out in the field if she can’t even take a bit of training?”

“Mate, mate,” Horatio brays. “Why is she even here?”

“It’s her first day of training,” says Raphael coolly. “Murdering someone isn’t education.”