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“I should warn you,” Evander told Rufus as they prepared to disembark, “the Institute can be challenging for outsiders to navigate.The faculty not only guard its secrets jealously, they are not welcoming to those they deem beneath them.”

Rufus frowned.“I’m well acquainted with their arrogance, Evander.Least you forget, I visited the premises when I was investigating Renwick’s origins.”

“This is different,” Evander insisted.“Renwick was a dark horse who had already been proven to be a criminal.They were duty bound to assist us.”He hesitated.“The Institute isn’t merely a school—it’s the oldest magical institution in Britain.Some of the professors trace their lineage back to the founding families.They consider themselves above the law in many respects.”

Rufus’s face hardened.“No one is above the law.”

Evander gave him a sad smile.“I’m not disagreeing with you, old friend.Just be aware that what you see and what you hear inside these hallowed walls is often a game of smoke and mirrors that hides a much deeper truth.”

“Consider me warned,” Rufus grunted.

They stepped out of the carriage and instructed the two constables to wait for them.Rufus eyed the gargoyles along the roofline warily as they entered the premises.A familiar tingle washed over Evander, the Institute’s ancient wards brushing against the magic that lived under his skin.

The courtyard was immaculate, the perfectly manicured lawns enclosed by hedges trimmed with arcane symbols.Students in dark blue robes hurried across the grounds, their arms laden with books and magical implements.Several paused to stare when they spotted Evander.

“It seems your reputation precedes you here as well,” Rufus observed drily as they whispered urgently behind their hands.

Evander sighed.“So it would seem.”

They were heading for the stone steps rising to a portico guarded by a pair of stone statues depicting mages holding grimoires and firing off spells, when a commotion reached their ears.Evander stiffened.

A familiar figure in a Metropolitan Police-issued coat was being forcibly escorted out of the main entrance.

Chapter5

Alarm rippledthrough him at the sight of Lyra Shaw being manhandled by a man who was doing little to mask his hostility towards the forensic mage.

“I have every right to be here, you louts!”Shaw protested, her voice carrying across the courtyard.“This is an official investigation!”

“And I’ve told you that the Institute does not recognise the Met’s authority in this matter.”The thin man with the expression of barely concealed contempt who had her by the collar sneered.“Professor Whitley’s absence is a private matter.”

One of the figures flanking him tossed Shaw’s bag onto the steps.An outraged sound left the forensic mage at the clatter of the precious forensic tools inside.

Evander narrowed his eyes.He recognised the faculty member with his hand on Shaw.

Gordon Dearmont had once been his classmate.A nobleman who believed that bloodline was stronger than merit, he and Evander had often clashed during the social debates held regularly among the student body.Judging by the silver embroidery on his midnight-blue robes, he was now a professor at the Institute.

Evander quickened his pace, Rufus close behind.He climbed the steps and picked up Shaw’s bag.

“Lord Dearmont,” he called out sharply, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.“I see your hospitality remains as warm as ever.”

Dearmont turned.His eyes widened momentarily before his features settled into a mask of cool politeness.He let go of Shaw.

“Duke Ravenwood.What an unexpected pleasure.And it’s Professor Dearmont.”

Evander did not miss the impudence underscoring his tone.

Shaw’s face brightened with relief as she joined Evander and Rufus.

“Your Grace!Inspector!Bloody hell, am I glad to see you.These pompous gits”—she gestured emphatically at Dearmont and the two robed figures flanking him—“were just explaining how a missing professor is apparently none of our damn business, despite the fact his poor wife is half out of her mind with worry.”

“Is that so?”Though Evander kept his voice steady, he did not hide the steel beneath it.

“‘Git’ is a bit of strong word, Shaw,” Rufus reprimanded without real vigour.

“I call it as I see it, inspector,” Shaw grumbled as Evander passed her bag over.She inspected the contents and visibly sagged.“Nothing is broken.”The mage shot a dirty look at the portly professor with the florid complexion who’d unceremoniously flung her things out of the building.“No thanks to that fat-fingered bastard,” she muttered, to Rufus’s growing consternation and the hidden smirks of several students.

Dearmont’s gaze shifted from Evander and lingered on the inspector with undisguised scorn.“I’m afraid we’ve already had the pleasure of Inspector Grayson’s company.I hear his enthusiasm during his last investigation left much to be desired.I sincerely hope this is not going to be repeat of that ghastly incident, Ravenwood.”