“I understand.” Gripping the handle on the door, I move to open it.
His hand grasp my arm roughly. “You will not fuck up again. Do you hear me? If you become even more of an embarrassment, I will erase you. Your money. Your name. It’ll be gone. And then we’ll see what a screw-up is like when everything good about him is taken away.”
“Got it,” I say through clenched teeth.
He releases my arm. “Your servant will bring the rest of your belongings. Don’t call. Don’t send word to your mother. You don’t exist to us until your time has been served.”
It takes everything inside of me to open the door and step out of that car. A fine rain, like a mist, coats me, and the clouds hang heavy overhead. My father pulls away without a backwards glance, and then I’m there alone.
Moving toward the gate, the guard steps out of his little shack. “Van Wellington?”
“That’s me.”
He glances from me to his paper. “Right this way.”
Going back into his shack, he pushes something, and the massive gates part. As I stare in wonder, a campus spreads out in front of me. The buildings are made of a white so perfectly white they’re almost the color of a flawless pearl. And the lawns are neat, almost creepily so, trimmed to perfection. Just like the brochure.
The guard clears his throat.
I straighten my spine and head inside, trying not to feel a strange kind of doom as the gates close behind me. It’s not like this is my first rodeo. My first time seeing a world of life and privilege. It’s what I was born into. And yet, something about this place feels…off.
Students laugh and talk under the shade of trees as I pass. Others play Frisbee on one lawn, and football on another. Everything about it screams of a normal college, so why do I feel so uncertain?
“Van Wellington?”
I whirl around. A man around my age stands behind me. He’s a massive guy, wider and more muscular than I am, which sets me off immediately. There are few guys as big as I am.
“That’s me.”
He flashes me a toothy smile that almost feels like a threat. “I’m here to make sure nothing bad happens to you on your way to meet the dean.”
I smirk. “This campus doesn’t look exactly dangerous.”
He regards me with a cruelty that makes me dislike him even more. “And you don’t look exactly like the most intelligent of men.”
I raise a brow, and he starts walking. Annoyed, I follow him, even though I don’t want to.
“So is that your thing? Scaring the newbies?”
He laughs. “No, man. If you think I’m scary, you have no shot of making it here.”
“You’re just kind of coming off like a cheesy villain in a high school drama.”
He whirls, and there’s no kindness in his face. “You got a strange way of thanking the only fucking student willing to be seen with one of your kind.”
“My kind?”
He leans in closer. “A fucking manipulative, power-hungry, cruel god.”
I blink at him slowly. That’s not where I thought this conversation was going. “A god?”
His eyes darken. “A god that our kind worked for lifetimes to capture.”
“What the fuck is your problem, man?”
He whirls away from me. “Nothing.”
He leads me to the main building on campus, then down flight after flight of stairs. The urge to run builds inside of me when he finally flings open the door to a room. I take a few steps inside and find a half circle of older people staring directly at me.
“Van Welington, Tyr, the god of war himself.” With that, the strange man closes the door behind me, sealing me in the room.
“Hi,” I say, my voice dry. It feels like a conference room full of lunatics. This has to be some kind of test.
An older woman with hair the startling color of gold tilts her head, studying me. “He doesn’t look like a god.”
Another woman with a tattooed face grins. “That might not be a bad thing.”
A man clears his throat, and the others fall silent. “Because the dean has not yet arrived to greet you, I will make things clear.”
Sure. That’d be nice.
He continues, “This school is a safe place for humans and magical creatures alike to find a second chance. Yes, you will be more powerful than any of us can imagine, and yet, you will obey the same rules as all our students.”
I stare at him. “I don’t get what’s happening here. Is this a joke? Humans and what?”
The tattooed woman rolls her eyes. Lifting a hand, fire explodes in the center of her palm.
“Shit!” I shout, and spring back.
The golden haired lady laughs. “Has the boy really not seen magic?”
“He burned his fucking school down,” the tattooed woman says, with a sharp bark of laughter.
“I didn’t,” I sputter out. “I can’t. That’s not—“
“That’s not. I can’t,” the tattooed woman mocks.
“Silence!” The man in the center of them stands, his dark robes whirling around him. “None of us might want the petulant gods in this world again in general, or in our school specifically. But the dean’s word is our law, and he has commanded it to be so. We will not mock a creature that only recently was human. Do I make myself clear?”
“I was just trying to speed along the whole, ‘but magic doesn’t exist’ thing,” she says, making her voice high in mockery.
“Brenda…” the man says, her name a warning, and then his gaze returns to me. “I am assistant to the dean, Roger of the house of snake shifters. If anyone should give you trouble, come to me. And if you should cause trouble, don’t doubt you’ll live long enough to reap a consequence to your actions. Now Clifton, head boy to the shifters, will show you to your dorm.”
I stare, my brain still processing what the hell is happening.
The woman he called Brenda smirks at me. “I hope you catch on faster than this the rest of the year, boy, or things aren’t looking good for you and your friends.”
“My friends?”
She laughs. “Hasn’t anyone told you? All you gods are now under our care. The girl. The brothers. And the jock.”
I stiffen. Izzy is here? And my friends?
“Where are they?”
“An actual question,” she says, laughter in her voice. “But I’m afraid nothing is that easy here.”
The door behind me opens again. The same man waits for me, his expression expectant. I walk out of the room, more confused than I’ve ever been in my life. We go back up the stairs, and I look at the man beside me.
“You’re a shifter?”
He laughs. “A werewolf.”
“And…I’m a god?”
He takes longer to answer. “You are.”
“I knew it…I’m high somewhere, aren’t I?”
He grips my shoulder. “If only it was that easy. Now come on, let’s get you your sword. I hate thinking about you defenseless right now, not when half the school is betting who will kill you before morning.”
Kill me before morning? Holy hell.
Chapter Eleven
Izzy
My new room is incredible.
It’s an enormous bedroom that looks out onto the lush green lawn with a hint of silver moonlight glittering on the lake beyond. I never thought I’d live in a place where a golden crown on my dresser looks normal, but here it does. Which is crazy.
Luckily for me, the room seems to be mine alone; there’s only one bed, an enormous canopy bed with fluttering white curtains. It’s exactly the kind of bed I dreamed about as a kid, and I bounce on the end of it, grinning to myself, before I get up and tuck my hair behind my ears and try to act like a real adult again.
Even though apparently I’m not just an adult. I’m a god. At least according to the people who run this school. People who may or may not be totally nuts.
There’s a walk-in closet, and someone has already unpacked my trash bag for me; my hand
ful of clothes hang on the closet rod. And, of course,my golden crown is set out as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. I lean against the long, cool, glass windows, looking out over the beautiful view, and my stomach growls.
My stomach is not impressed by the scenery.
Mr. Time saw me to my room and left me with a class schedule for tomorrow, but he didn’t give me a whole lot of details on where I could, say, find a vending machine. A part of me wants to pause and dig through my backpack, looking for the weird glowing book from the library, but another part of me feels like that’s the last thing I need right now. More questions and no answers. So, I pull on my sweatshirt and head off to explore my new home.
Outside my room is a long, wooden hallway lined with art in heavy, gilt frames. There are several thick, wooden doors, all closed, and I wonder who lives in those rooms. I’d like to meet my roommates. It’s so eerily silent that I can hear my sneakers squeak across the highly-polished floor as I look around.
At the end of the corridor, there’s a student lounge, but it’s fancy. It’s not what I would have expected. There’s a huge TV and an enormous sectional and a soft rug underfoot; there are fashion magazines on the coffee table alongside fresh flowers and the TV remotes. I look around, wondering if I should even be in here. This can’t be for me.
“Excuse me, miss,” someone says behind me, and I turn, my heart hammering in my throat.
There’s an older woman standing in the doorway, and she looks at me warily, her eyes narrowed.
“Oh, you scared me,” I say, pressing my hand to my chest to still my rapidly-beating heart and flashing a smile at her. “I didn’t realize there was anyone else in here. Am I--am I not supposed to be here?”
She shakes her head, although she’s still staring at me hard. “No, miss. I just came to ask if you would like dinner.”
“Oh, that would be so nice! Thank you!”
“What would you like?”
What would I like? I stare back at her. There’s a cafeteria or something, right? Maybe she’s offering to get my meal for me because it’s after hours? That’s so nice of her.
“I don’t know. My name’s Izzy, by the way.” I hold out my hand as I take a step toward her.
She steps back so fast that she bumps into the doorway, and then tries to smile at me as if she’s covering up the misstep. “My name is Beth. What would you like for dinner, miss?”
My stomach growls again. I really wish she wouldn’t call me miss. It’s weird. But first priorities first; I really am dying for some food. What wouldn’t be too much trouble, that the cafeteria is sure to have?
“Cereal?” I ask.
“If you give me fifteen minutes, I’ll have your meal ready for you, miss.”
“Okay, thank you.” I have a little more time to explore, then.
I head for the door. As I do, she calls, “Miss.”
When I turn, she looks at me like she wants to say something, but then she shakes her head. “I guess you’re safe enough out there,” she mutters.
“Should I carry pepper spray?” Of course I don’t have pepper spray. It’s supposed to be a light-hearted comment, but a shiver just ran over me at her insinuation.
She gives me a strange look. “I wouldn’t think you would need it.”
Right. Because I’m a god. I don’t feel like a god, but surely, a god can go out safely after dark, even if she is also a girl. I should be good.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, then slip out into the evening.
A cold breeze whips around me, and I cross my arms over my chest, wishing I’d put on my sweatshirt before I came out here. The enormous, gray, stone building I’ve just left behind is one of a series of buildings that form a square around a grassy quad.
A few students walk by and I smile at them, but they stare at me coldly and walk past. Colder than the fall wind. All righty then.
I guess it wouldn’t surprise me if this place was full of kids with lots of money and not a lot of nice.
I walk the cobblestone path in the loop around the buildings. Flowering trees sway between the buildings; it’s all so beautiful.
Of course, I still don’t know where to find a vending machine, or anything else. Tomorrow morning is going to be an adventure. Each house seems to be a dorm. I’d go further, but I don’t want to miss my chance at dinner.
When I turn to head back to my dorm, there’s a guy in my path.
“Hi,” he says, flashing me a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s good-looking, dark haired and ruggedly handsome. “You look cold. Do you want my jacket?”
“Wow, that’s gallant. I couldn’t--”
“You are a god, right?” he asks. “You can have anything you want.”
Oh God, this conversation is awkward. “I’m very new….” I can’t bring myself to say I’m a new god. “I’m not exactly comfortable with the whole idea yet.”
“So you haven’t come into your powers yet?”
“No…” I say. “Anyway, I’m Izzy. What’s your name?”
He nods to someone behind me.
Suddenly, a hard arm loops around my waist. I’m swept off my feet.
I struggle and scream, but the guy who was just talking to me grabs my feet.
A hand clamps across my mouth, his fingers pressing painfully deep into my cheek.
“Scream again, and we’ll kill you. We don’t need your kind to try to destroy the world all over again.”
Chapter Twelve
Reid
I don’t like this place, at all. And the whole god crap… I don’t know what to think about that either. Yeah, they showed me magic. A teacher actually turned into a snake right in front of me, so I’d have to be crazy not to believe it after seeing it with my own eyes, but I don’t feel any different.
I’m not any different.
Definitely not a god.
I shift on the bed in my new dorm, glancing out the window at the flowering garden cloaked in moonlight. Everything about this place has a ‘too perfect to be real’ feel, which kind of sets me on edge even more. I don’t know anything about magic, but what if all of this has been fabricated? What if it’s a kind of spell or something?
I’ve been dropped into a world that I know nothing about, and if it wasn’t for Izzy being here, I would’ve turned around and walked right out. Hell, prison might be better than this strange place, with its glaring students and its strange teachers.
Maybe when I see her and the guys I’ll feel better. But I kind of doubt it.
My phone rings, even though it’s late. My mom’s name flashes on the screen, and I take a deep breath and answer it.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” She sounds like she’s been crying, and guilt washes over me all over again. She and Aiden are both in so much pain, and I’m always useless to fix it, no matter how hard I try. “How is it there?”
“It’s nice,” I say.
“Reid…”
“I mean it, Mom, the school is really nice. It doesn’t look like a reform school but then, it’s for rich kids. The campus is beautiful. I got my class schedule, and I’m registered for everything I planned on signing up for in college anyway.” I take a deep breath, trying to sound cheery. “I know this wasn’t what we planned, but it’s okay.”
“I just…. You’ve always been such a good kid. I worry about Aiden, but never you.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, and I mean it. Life hasn’t been easy for my mom. The last thing I ever wanted to do was add more stress to her life.
“I still don’t understand. Why did you start that fire? Were you trying to burn down the school? Did Aiden...”
She trails off, but of course she blames him. She always blames him, as if he doesn’t blame himself enough. It’s like the day she lost her daughter, she lost Aiden too, even though he’s still here, desperately needing her to love him like she used to.
I run my hand through my messy hair, feeling frustrated. “I told you, it was an accident.”
“That’s not what the police said.”
“I know what they said, but they’re wrong. Trust me. Okay? Even if it’s hard right now.”
She’s quiet for a long minute. “They said the dean of your new school paid to have your high school refurbished. The officer said that’s part of the reason you were given the option of a reform school over jail.”
Because the dean says we’re freaking gods. “That’s lucky.”
“Just…something about this feels wrong. Why did he help you? Why did he want you at his school?”
I hate lying, but I need her to feel okay, to not be worried the whole time we’re gone. “With my grades and everything, he wanted me here.”
“But your brother…”
Yeah, he had zero chance at getting into any college, no less a rich private one. “I made him part of the deal.”
Silence stretches between us for a long minute. “I know it’s selfish, but since your sister died…”
My throat closes. I don’t want to think about that. Not now. Not when I’m already struggling.
“A mother just thinks her daughter will be with her forever. But after…I just wanted you close. I know it’s selfish, but I thought you’d go to a school near me and…. I don’t know.”
I fight through my sadness and try to sound chipper. “It won’t be that long, and then we’ll be back, and you and dad will wish we were gone.”
She doesn’t laugh. “Just be careful. Okay? If I lost you guys too…”
“You’ll never lose us,” I promise.
“Okay.”
“I love you.”
I hear her smile through the phone. “You were always such a good kid.”
“Get some sleep.”
“You too,” she says, and then the phone goes quiet.
I hang up and push off the edge of my bed, shoving my phone angrily into my pocket. Whatever the fuck happened at our high school, it wasn’t our fault. Our mom shouldn’t be crying at home right now, with our dad ignoring her, because of something outside of our control.
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