Page 29

TWENTY-EIGHT

DRAKE

As weeks go, this one has been the best and the worst mixed with the indifferent.

I spend my time pretending to be an expert on history, which is something I never appreciated the art of before.

Faking a resume and a past comes easy for Ryder, which is how I got the job in the first place, but faking knowledge is a different thing entirely.

It helps that I studied history at college and did well at it. However, the military ended my interest in that and now I’m expected to be shit hot on the subject.

Then there’s Imogen.

When I see her, I want her. When I don’t see her, I’m thinking of her and worrying if Jesse has his hands on her. Since that night we haven’t spent time alone and due to the nature of my mission, contact is limited.

It sucks being here knowing she is an arm’s length away most of the time and it’s difficult to conceal my feelings toward her when she sits in my class.

Then there’s Angela. Fuck, that woman won’t give it up. She’s there when I head into the staffroom, the cafeteria, or when I head home in the evening. I’ve taken to spending most of my spare time at the gym because that’s a place she rarely ventures inside.

However, tonight is the night I’ve been dreading because it’s initiation night, whatever that involves and as I can kind of guess, I’m prepared with my excuses.

She catches up with me in the staff cafeteria.

“Drake.” She sits opposite and I instantly lose my appetite.

“Angela.” I nod, remaining impassive as she openly flirts with me, batting her lashes and sucking in her lower lip. I’m guessing she has dressed provocatively to send a message and her silk shirt is low, revealing rather a large cleavage.

“Tonight.”

Her voice drips suggestion and I remain impassive as I remark, “Tonight?”

I pretend to be clueless and then frown. “Oh, I remember. My bad, I’m so sorry Angela, I must meet Sonia. Maybe next week.”

A flash of anger causes her to frown, and she shakes her head.

“That is not an option, Drake.”

I’m surprised at the hardening of her expression and the steel in her voice.

“Excuse me?”

She shakes her head as if she’s disappointed.

“We cannot conduct this conversation here. Please meet me in my office in ten minutes. You may change your plans after that.”

She scoots back in her chair and stands, gazing at me with a strange gleam in her eye.

I’m surprised at the transformation because, after one refusal, she has morphed into a warrior.

The obvious displeasure on her face is matched by the angry gleam in her eye and I’m a little stunned because I never saw this coming.

As she leaves, she snaps, “Ten minutes, Drake. “

I watch her go and wonder what brought about the change and I can only think it’s because I mentioned the fictitious Sonia.

Somehow, my appetite has deserted me and so, with a sigh, I push my food away and reach for my water bottle. I may as well get this over with and something a lot like dread accompanies me out of the room.

When I reach her office, I take a deep breath as I knock and wait for her command to go inside.

I’m not nervous. I’ve faced worse, and if Ryder had looked at me in the same way, I would be fearing for my life as I wait for permission to enter.

However, this is Angela Constable, and I’m only mildly interested.

Whatever she has got to say is irrelevant anyway because as soon as this mission is a successful one, I will high tail it out of here and back to anonymity as soon as the red tape is tied up.

“Enter.”

Her abrupt command tells me whatever she’s got to say won’t be wrapped in the usual sugar and as I head inside, she peers at me and her lips are set in a thin line as she points to the chair opposite her desk.

“Sit down, Drake. This won’t take long.”

I face her, withholding my irritated sigh, and as she glances up, I detect an excitement in her expression that baffles me.

“You may want to reconsider your evening tonight because it comes with consequences.”

“I don’t understand.”

She toys with a folder lying on her desk and her smile is almost triumphant as she hisses, “I wonder if this is Sonia?”

She removes a photograph from inside and slides it across the desk toward me.

When I see the subject matter, my heart sinks. What the fuck!

It’s a photograph of Friday night. When Imogen came to the house and we spent it in my bed. I stare in horror at the photographic evidence of the two of us fucking and the blood must drain from my face because she laughs softly. “Who is a very naughty boy?”

I glance up and yet rather than be disgusted, she appears almost euphoric.

“This changes things, Drake.”

“In what way?”

I note several other pages inside the file and she taps her fingers on it almost triumphantly.

“It may surprise you to learn that this isn’t the first indiscretion I’ve dealt with at Rockwell.”

She leans forward, her cleavage accentuating the lines around her neck.

“It’s an occupational hazard, shall we say. Young, virile students are like a red flag to the teachers and the students are fascinated with an illicit tryst with their tutor.”

She laughs softly. “It was the same for Jenna Sloane, although she was fired because her indiscretions were beginning to shine the spotlight on the academy and we would all burn for her mistake.”

“All?”

She shrugs dismissively. “The members of my Friday night club are there for a reason, Drake.”

“What reason?”

“To pay for their mistakes.”

She pulls out another photograph of Imogen naked as I lick her pussy and she laughs. “I wouldn’t mind a go at her myself. She’s delightful.”

I feel sick as she says forcefully, “So, here is the deal. You continue your games with this young woman for all I care, but remember to be discreet. If I hear otherwise, your days here are numbered. And in return for my silence and generous nature–”

She crosses her legs, her skirt high above her knees as she says seductively, “You join our club where the grown-ups play similar games, although a tad more depraved, if you get my meaning.”

“How depraved?”

I’m starting to question whether I overlooked something obvious the entire time. We believed Jenna Sloane was Christian’s recruitment officer, but possibly it was someone much higher up than that.

“You will discover that in your initiation ceremony. I’m certain Sonia will understand. If she exists, that is.”

I’ve got to hand it to Angela Constable. I definitely underestimated her, and she laughs softly.

“Oh Drake, your expression is hilarious. It’s okay, I’m not one to judge others of what I am guilty of myself.”

“You?” I raise my eyes.

“Yes, Drake. What goes on behind these doors would probably shock you even though you’re a man of certain tastes yourself.

It’s what transpires in my apartment during my Friday night club that would shock you more, so I’ll expect you on the dot and park your morals firmly outside the door. You won’t be needing them.”

As surprise attacks go, this one scored a direct hit and my mind races as I stare at the folder on her desk. I wonder how she got the evidence and say carefully, “I have one question, Principal Constable.”

“Go on.”

“Who took the photographs?”

She shrugs. “We all guard our secrets, Drake. My spies are mine and will not be compromised. You see, I run my academy with no stone left unturned. Take the students as an example.”

“What about them?”

She grins. “They think they’ve outsmarted the staff. Their little challenge they run every Friday night in the dungeons, for one.”

I remain impassive, but my mind is racing. Fuck, she knows.

The dungeons always were my particular favorite part of Rockwell.

I enjoyed many exhilarating evenings there myself and understand its appeal.

I must hand it to Frankie Majerio though, the centurion costume is a pure stroke of genius, and when they located the tunnels that run underneath the academy, it did alter my plans a little. ”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

I play dumb and she shrugs. “We’ll run with that if you like, but understand one thing, Drake–”

She fixes me with an almost maniacal grin.

“Sometimes I like to play dirty and if the students ever get in the way of what I want, I dispose of the problem because protecting Rockwell and its secrets is what I do. It’s what lies within its walls under the cover of darkness when this place really comes alive.”

She studies her chipped nail varnish.

“You know, Drake, that girl in the picture really is beautiful. She was a virgin too, if I’m not mistaken.”

Cold knives press against every organ inside me as she says almost conversationally, “She would be the perfect pet to join us. Perhaps you will indulge me this once and bring me a sacrificial lamb to the slaughter to prove your allegiance?”

“And if I don’t.” I keep my expression impassive and my voice even, and she shrugs.

“Then we may just take her, anyway.”

She peers up at me. “Nine pm tonight, Drake. The students enjoy their game as we do ours. All occupied at exactly the same time, so our business remains secret. If they discovered that was the reason they remained undetected for so long, they would be shocked. Wouldn’t you agree?”

She glances down at the photograph and trails her fingers over Imogen’s body, licking her lips as she whispers, “Well done for bringing her to my attention. You will be rewarded for your service to my secret society.”

If I was waiting for the moment the penny dropped, this is it. I may finally have my lead and as my nerves scream at me to waste this monster now, I hold back and prepare to deliver the intelligence to Ryder instead.

Principal Constable by day, a serpent at night, but is she the one really calling the shots, or is Christian, or somebody even more depraved than the woman who is expecting me at nine pm on the dot?

Even worse, she knows my Achilles heel and I’m fully aware that was her reason for mentioning Imogen.

Jesse must be one of her recruits and after one word from her, Imogen will be in danger and I’m the fucking idiot who put her there.