“Password?” Urian’s voice is muffled by the still-closed door.
I can’t bring myself to say it.
“Holy Hades,” Nicole snaps. “Just let us in, Nacus.”
No response.
Troy elbows me in the ribs.
I clench my jaw and grind out, “Ares wears pink underpants.”
Griffin would so kill me if he heard me utter those words.
The door swings open and Urian waves us inside. I’m not sure I want to go, but Troy pushes me in ahead of him.
“What did you find out?” he asks Urian as he closes the door behind Nicole.
Urian drops into his desk chair and grabs his mouse. A few clicks later, he says, “Nothing yet. My bot is still scanning the Academy server. It’s at ninety-eight percent, so it should be done soon.”
“Okay then,” I say, turning and trying to scoot around Troy to reach the door. “Thanks for trying. See you later.”
“Not so fast.” Troy grabs my shoulders before I can escape. “You have an hour until midnight. Maybe Urian’s search program will find something by then.” He looks me straight in the eyes with a very serious older-brother-like intensity. “Sit.”
While I appreciate the whole looking-out-for-me thing, I don’t need a babysitter. And I don’t need to sit around in the dark when I could be staking out the courtyard or something.
“Chill, Travatas.” Nicole shoves against his chest until he steps back.
“Like I said in my note,” Troy says, giving Nic a narrow-eyed glare. “I’m not letting you go to the courtyard until we know who you’re meeting.”
“As if you could stop me,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest. I’m starting to get annoyed. “What note? I never got a note.”
“The one I tucked in your pocket while you were running this morning,” he argues—not the best move at the moment. “I saw your sweatshirt hanging on the water fountain when I was on my way to your house.”
“There was no note,” I repeat.
Since I’m wearing the same sweatshirt I took with me this morning, I slip my hands into the pockets. Empty.
“See,” I say, pulling the pockets inside out. “Empty.”
“No, that’s not the—”
Knock, knock, knock.
We all freeze at the loud banging on the door.
Well, most of us freeze. Nicole reaches for the handle.
“Don’t move,” Urian whispers, grabbing Nic by the wrist. “They’ll go away.”
They don’t.
Knock, knock, knock. Louder this time.
Nic glares at Urian—like he is the dirt stuck to the gum attached to the bottom of her combat boot—until he releases her. Actually, his hand snaps back like she gave him a 220-volt shock. I wouldn’t be surprised.
She goes for the handle.
“Nooo!” Urian shout-whispers.
But he doesn’t have to stop her. Before she can reach the handle, it turns and the door flings open.
“Griffin?” I gasp. “What are you—”
“I was about to do my laundry when I found this”—he shoves a crumpled piece of paper in my face—“in my pocket.”
I pull back, trying to bring the paper into focus—even though I’m pretty sure I know what it is.
“That’s my note,” Troy says, pointing at the paper. “How did you get it?”
Thanks, Troy. That helps.
Griffin is obviously furious. His eyes are all squinty—thankfully focused on Troy at the moment—and his full lips are clamped so tight they look outlined in white “You slipped it into the wrong pocket, genius.”
“There’s no need to get nasty,” I say, defending Troy. It’s not his fault.
Griffin’s blue eyes, burning white-hot, focus on me so intently I’m not sure he even sees anything—or anyone—else in the room. You know that whole protective thing I was thankful for last night? Well, here it is again, lashing out. I try to keep calm by telling myself he’s just worried about me. My getting defensive is not going to improve the situation.
“What is this about?” he demands.
Acutely aware of three pairs of very observant eyes, I slam my palms against Griffin’s chest and push him out into the hallway. He and I have been through enough. We don’t need an audience. “Privacy.”
“Phoebe,” he practically growls.
“You know I got that note pointing me to the record of my dad’s trial,” I point out. When he nods, I explain. “Then I got an e-mail. And another.”
“How many?”
“Five, in all.”
“From who?”
“I’m not sure,” I say. “The sender’s address was blocked.”