Page 85 of Spark of Sorcery

“It’s the full moon.” I point to the window where the large silver disc hovers, framed by the window.

“Is that meant to be an explanation or …” she says fiddling with her cutlery.

“Dray is a shifter. The full moon sends him, and all his other little buddies, half-crazed. They’ll be off rampaging through the forest, terrorizing squirrels most probably.”

Dray was pissed he was missing this meal. Especially as we’re leaving for the training assignment tomorrow. Extra pissed because usually he crashes after a full moon and takes a full twenty-four hours to recover. He’ll be slinking in after the moon sets and we’ll be out the door again in a matter of hours.

I twist my glass in my fingers. I haven’t told her about the leaving bit yet.

“Is Thorne affected by the full moon too?” she says.

“No, Thorne’s just fucking anti-social.”

“He’s not–” she starts to protest.

“You spend one evening with the dude and you think you know him better than me – his bond brother.”

She takes a sip of wine. “I guess not.”

I take a gulp of wine from myself. This isn’t going how I want it to.

I gesture to the food on her plate. “It’s scallops. I thought you might not have tried it before and I thought you might like it. Also,” I say, picking up my cutlery, “it’s good for you.”

“Clare was exaggerating. The food in the canteen is perfectly fine.” Although as she lifts a piece of scallop between her lips and starts to chew, I’m guessing the food in her mouth is a hell of a lot better than the food in the canteen. She actually swoons. “Oh my gosh, that is so good,” she moans.

I smile to myself. “I thought you’d like it.”

“If you’re trying to seduce me with food–”

“I already tried that,” I say. “I don’t think it was particularly effective.”

“You didn’t feed me this before,” she says, placing another piece in her mouth and making a face so reminiscent of how she looks when she comes, I’m stiffening in my pants.

“Actually,” I say, “I am trying to butter you up. I have some news you aren’t going to like.” Or maybe she will like it. Who the fuck knows with this one.

“Oh,” she says, with suspicion, chewing.

“We’re going away from the academy for a short period of time.”

A cacophony of expressions flicker over her face and it’s impossible to read if she is or isn’t pleased with this news. “All of you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“There’s been an infraction through the usual protections out of the East,” I say, playing down what I suspect has happened because I don’t want her to worry. “They want to use it as a training exercise for some of the shadow weavers at the academy.”

“Is it going to be dangerous?”

“No,” I lie.

“And … how long will you be gone for?”

“Most likely, four weeks.”

She nods. “Okay.”

That’s it? Just an okay?