by Cara Wylde
“Dad?” He shot me a suspicious look. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?” He looked at Morningstar over my shoulder, and… was that a scowl? Did he just scowl at Valentine?
I turned to my real dad. He was chatting up Lamia, completely ignoring my parents. Déjà-vu. Sariel and his parents were two tables away from us, and I thought Valentine would have been in his element with them. He was just as fake as Raguel and Ariela.
“Have you met my adoptive parents?”
Morningstar turned to me, beaming. But there was a strain in his smile.
“Yes, yes. They introduced themselves before you arrived.” He said it as if they’d offended him simply by approaching him. “Lovely people, yes. They did a great job, so that’s all I need to declare that I like them. Your mom is most charming.”
“Really?” I whispered. “You like them? Wow! That’s a relief, I must tell you. I was nervous.”
“Nothing to be nervous about, daughter. We had a little chat… It’s all good.”
My ears perked. I imagined myself as a cat who’d been relaxed and at ease just a second before, and then she heard the tiniest sound that could have been a critter.
“A little chat? About what?”
“About how things should be from now on. Your real father is here, Mila! There’s no need for you to live with your adoptive parents anymore.”
My shoulders tensed. Not that I particularly wanted to live with Stepan and Ilena, but living with Morningstar wasn’t an option, either. In fact, I was thinking of getting my own place. What was it with supernatural people and sticking with their families for fucking centuries?! Hadn’t they heard of moving out at eighteen? Maybe their eighteen was one hundred…
“You shouldn’t have talked about this in my absence,” was all I could manage. I could feel the blood boiling in my veins.
“Why not? I think it’s only fair that they should know where they stand.” He exchanged a gaze with my mom, which resulted in her sipping her wine hurriedly. “Oh, and I hope you packed your bags.”
“Why would I pack my bags?” I had every intention of spending this Christmas at the Academy, too.
“You’re coming home with me. Our first Christmas together! Can you believe it?”
No, I cannot believe it. My vocal cords weren’t as cooperative as my brain.
“No, she cannot believe it, because it’s not going to happen,” Stepan spoke for me, and for once, he wasn’t out of line.
Something happened when my two dads locked eyes over the table. I could feel it in the air. Tension fell over our little party, and even GC’s parents and Paz’s mother fell silent. Corri stopped her flappity-flap dance and settled in the middle of the table, on top of the fruit bowl. The tiny hairs on the nape of my neck stood on end. I leaned back in my chair, suddenly feeling like this wasn’t my fight.
“We’ve talked about this,” Morningstar said with a forced smile. “I told you Mila is going to spend the holidays with me.”
“And I told you that’s going to happen over my dead body!” He raised his voice, which drew unwanted attention.
I bit the inside of my cheek and exchanged a glance with my mom. She was just as lost and confused as I was. From the corner of my eye, I saw Headmaster Colin approach our table.
Valentine narrowed his blue eyes at Stepan. “That can be arranged.”
What the hell was going on?! My two fathers were fighting over me? Why?! Neither of them actually cared about me. Morningstar had only sought me out because he knew about the prophecy, and he probably wanted to make sure I wouldn’t take him out anytime soon. Stepan Lazarov had never loved me as a daughter. He’d abused me emotionally and physically, called me names, made fun of me, bullied me until I couldn’t take it anymore and I started hurting myself. I pulled at my long gloves to make sure they covered my arms perfectly. They came two inches over my elbows, so I was safe.
“Mila, would you like to dance?”
What the fuck?! It wasn’t Headmaster Colin’s voice that had startled me, but his request. I looked at him, mouth agape, feeling like a dumb fish who’d just been pulled out of the water and left to die on the beach.
“I… mmm… Yes, of course.” How could I have refused him? You don’t just say “no” to the Headmaster of Grim Reaper Academy. “I’d love to.”
He took my hand by the very tips of my gloved fingers and led me to the center of the ball room. A few couples were dancing on the soft tunes of a ballad. This is… too romantic. As Mason Colin positioned his other hand on my waist so lightly that I could barely feel it, the song changed. It wasn’t much better, but still slightly more appropriate.
“I’m sorry, Miss Morningstar. I wanted to have a word with you.”
From up close, Headmaster Colin was quite handsome. Tall, broad-shouldered, strong… I wondered if he had anyone. A wife, or a girlfriend…
“Your father has asked you to spend Christmas with him.”
“Which father?” I chuckled. This was hilarious.
He furrowed his brows. “Valentine Morningstar. Your biological father. I’m sure you don’t want to call Stepan Lazarov father after everything he’s done to you.”
Yep, Headmaster Colin was my therapist. I hadn’t gone to our sessions since school had started, but I’d already told him everything during the summer holiday. Therapy had been part of the deal that allowed me to stay at the Academy indefinitely. That, and my promise to study Morningstar while I lived in his old room. I’d discovered a couple of things, actually, but that was a story for another time.
“Well, both my dads want me to spend Christmas with them, so I haven’t decided yet.”
“What is there to decide? Remember what we talked about. You have to learn as much as you can about him. When the time comes, you must be ready.”
“Yeah, I don’t know about that. There’s plenty of time until graduation.”
“You never know what might happen between now and then.”
He spun me around gently, then we both bowed and resumed our dance. We were silent for a minute, and while he was giving me time to consider his suggestion, I was trying to figure out what was amiss. Because something was amiss, for sure. I stole a glance at my table, and I saw Valentine and Stepan argue over my mom’s blond head. She made herself super small and poked at her food. GC and Pazuzu were watching the scene with extreme interest.
“Do you think…” I started reluctantly. “Do you think they know each other, Headmaster Colin?”
“What? No! How could they? They just met this evening. What makes you say that?”
“I don’t know. I just have this feeling.”
The song ended, we bowed, and the Headmaster kissed the tips of my fingers with endless care. It was as if he was worried that if he touched me in any way, it would all be too inappropriate. I smiled at him, thanked him, and went straight to GC and Pazuzu. A rock and roll song started, and most of the students were already on the dance floor. Pandora was dancing with Klaus. What?! She was trying to be his friend because… he was my friend? The world was fucked up.
“Hey you, let’s dance.”
Valentine and Stepan fell silent the second I approached the table. They do know each other. And that was when I knew what I had to do.
“By the way, I’ve decided to spend the holidays with Stepan and Ilena,” I threw over my shoulder as Paz and GC grabbed me by the hands and pulled me toward the dance floor. “We have all the time in the world, don’t we?” I smiled sweetly at Valentine. “One more Christmas with my mom and dad, and then I’m all yours, father.”
Father. The first part had him fuming, albeit guardedly, but the last part did the trick. He smiled back and nodded.
“As you wish, daughter. If that’s what you want, I cannot stop you. Your happiness is my main concern.”
Sure it is, you pompous prick. As if I don’t know every word that comes out of your mouth is a lie. But was Stepan
lying as well? He’d lied about not having heard of Grim Reaper Academy before. Was he lying about Valentine, as well? How could I hope to crack my newfound father, when I couldn’t crack the man I’d lived with my entire life? I’m a piss-poor detective. And that needs to change.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Nope, the fact that I was piss-poor detective didn’t change overnight, nor over the holidays. Stepan was like a wall I could not break. I could scratch at it for hours, days, and not get a one-inch crack, at least. Aloof, impenetrable, but surprisingly not a jerk. He stayed out of my way, avoided my questions grumpily, cut any confrontation short in seconds, and when I pressed him too hard, grabbed his old coat and headed out for a beer. Aside from the fact that I wasn’t getting anywhere with my investigation, this new side of him suited me just fine. He didn’t cuss anymore, he was less violent, and he generally left me and my mom alone. For the first time in nineteen years, I actually had a pleasant winter vacation.
I’d spent my mornings with Mom, sipping coffee and talking about Grim Reaper Academy, Valentine, my boyfriends, and my classes. Since I’d told her about the field trip to Heaven, she’d become even more religious, if that was even possible. She bought a bunch of new icons and built herself a small altar in hers and dad’s bedroom, which I told her was uncommon for Orthodox Christians. She didn’t care. Heaven existed, God existed, so she was going to take all necessary precautions, and then some. She didn’t like that I was dating Pazuzu, a demon, but oddly enough, she had no problem with GC, the false god. I tried to explain to her countless times that demons were not inherently evil, just like angels were not inherently good. I even gave her examples of what Sariel had done to me in year one. I soon discovered she was open-minded about many things, but not this one.
After breakfast, I’d hole up in my room with a steaming pot of tea and professor Lovecraft’s two volumes of short novellas. His writing style had proved to be challenging. I could understand why he hadn’t gotten the attention of any big publishing houses in the supernatural world. His writing was convoluted, with too many adjectives, too many adverbs, and a vocabulary so archaic and rarely used that I had to keep Google close. After a few pages, I usually fell asleep, which was super annoying, because I didn’t want to spend my entire holiday deciphering his books. I also had some serious studying to do. I took notes, wrote a bunch of questions down, and sighed in deep relief when I finally closed the second volume and declared it finished. As he’d told me, he’d written about a few Great Old Ones, but the stories were so complex, the plot drowned in endless descriptions, that I could barely make sense of them. In the end, to my absolute frustration, I realized I’d spent hours reading without understanding much of what I’d read. Francis’s Great Old One, Yig, was only mentioned in a short story called The Curse of Yig, but the description of the serpent-like monster had very little to do with reality. That was one thing I couldn’t wait to ask Mr. Lovecraft about. Why did he believe Yig was a giant serpent? Giant serpents didn’t have a bunch of slimy tentacles… Of course, I couldn’t tell him about the Yig I knew. Maybe Lovecraft’s Yig was some other god? So confused…
After two weeks of not getting much from my dad and spending too much time reading questionable literature, I returned to Grim Reaper Academy mostly the same as I’d left – clueless. I dumped my stuff in my room, went to dinner, then back to my room with two of the hottest guys in school, and had some life-changing, mood-improving sex. Sleep, breakfast, the first day of semester two. Life was back to normal. Valentine Morningstar wasn’t around and settling in my old routine soon gave me a feeling of safety I hadn’t felt in a while – more specifically, since Morningstar had entered my life.
“Hey, where’s your pixie?” Klaus caught up with me at lunch. We were waiting in line to fill our plates.
I chuckled. “On vacation.”
“What do you mean?” His voice was suddenly grave, which I found odd.
“I was at home, I didn’t need a pixie. So, I sent her away with a ring of the bell. Just like she taught me. I don’t need her to serve me all the time, and anyway, I feel bad when I ask her for things. It’s easier when she’s not around.”
Klaus’s pale cheeks turned red, and it had nothing to do with his generally shy personality.
“And you sent her to the Blank because you don’t want to feel bad about using her?! How is that any better?!” He raised his voice and started flailing his arms. “How is that not pure evil?!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Everyone was looking at us. I grabbed him by his uniform jacket and pulled him out of the line. “What is the Blank?”
He looked at me with wide eyes. Disbelief was written all over his face.
“You don’t know what the Blank is? How long has she been there?”
“I don’t know, since the second or third day of Christmas. What the fuck is the Blank?”
“Oh my God, Mila…” He ran his hand through his platinum blond hair. “Oh my God, you’re so clueless sometimes… And I know you’re not one of us, and there are many things you don’t know about our world, but this just can’t be your excuse all the goddamn time. Is it so hard to do some fucking research?”
“Research on what?”
“On pixies!”
I crossed my arms over my chest. I was starting to feel annoyed, and a bit scared.
“Just tell me what’s wrong. I don’t need all this drama. If I did something bad, I’ll fix it and do better next time.”
He huffed. “Yeah, and while you’re at it, maybe get Corri a therapist, too. If you really want to fix it, that is.”
“Klaus!”
He sighed and tried to calm down. “The Blank is where pixies are held after they’re trained and put on the market. They stay there until someone buys them, then they go there every time their master sends them away.”
“And what’s this place like?”
“What do you think it’s like? It’s called the Blank.”
“So… empty?” I didn’t like where this was going. I reached into the pocket of my uniform blazer, but the bell wasn’t there. I’d left it in my room.
“Empty, dark, floating in an endless space of sensory deprivation. I’ve never been there, obviously, but that’s how books describe it. And if you think this is fun, then hear this: not only are pixies sent to the Blank, but they each have their own cage. And they stay there, locked up, until their master calls on them again. There are horror stories about masters who got bored of their pixies and left them in the Blank to rot. Pixies are not immortal, but they do have awfully long lives.”
“Oh my God!” I covered my mouth with my hands. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I thought you knew!”
“Corri never told me.”
“She probably didn’t want to upset you. That would get her a penalty from the Council. But I thought you’d done your research.”
“Well, apparently, I’m not as smart as you think I am!” I yelled at him and ran out of the dining hall.
I couldn’t get to the north tower fast enough, and then the stairs literally killed me. I was a mess by the time I reached my floor. Panting, sweating, and cursing under my shallow breath, I burst through the door, rummaged through my bedside drawer, and pulled out the bell. I rang it desperately.
“Mistress, you’re back! I’m back! How may I serve you?”
“Oh my God, Corri!” I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to my chest. She yelped, then let out a pained screech, and I realized I was squeezing her too hard. I held her more gently but didn’t let go. “I’m so sorry! I had no idea. You never told me, and I was so stupid, so clueless, so busy with my own damn drama, that I didn’t think… I should have asked you, should have asked someone…”
“I don’t understand what’s happening.”
I held her at arm’s length and looked into her big, almond eyes. “The Blank. I had no idea that every time I sent you away, you were locked
up in a cage, in complete darkness.” An odd mix of fear, sadness, and gratitude flashed across her tiny face. “I’m sorry. I promise I will never do that to you again. You’re staying here, with me. I’m never sending you away.”
“Thank you,” she said in a small voice. “You don’t have to, you know? I’m used to it. It’s… natural.”
“Corri, there’s nothing natural about it! There’s nothing natural about pixie slavery. Was your kind ever free?”
“Oh, a long time ago. Long, long time ago.”
“And don’t you want to be free again?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. What would I do if I were free? At least, with the way things are, I have a purpose.”
I shook my head. She didn’t know what freedom was. She couldn’t even imagine it. All these incredible powers, and the pixies weren’t going to use them to rebel, because freedom had been bred out of them. I couldn’t get her a therapist, like Klaus had sarcastically suggested, but I could get her a friend. Me.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Friday couldn’t come fast enough. Professor Maat was getting us ready for the field trip to Hell with a bunch of extra assignments, and all I could think about was Lovecraft’s stories about the Great Old Ones. We were studying the Nine Circles of Hell, and I showed up unprepared on Thursday, made a mess of the Third Circle, which was Gluttony, but thank God I was Morningstar’s daughter! Mrs. Maat didn’t take any points from me. I’d already passed Francis on the worth scoreboard and was on second place after Sariel. None of it was for real or made any sense, but who cared? The worth score system was broken before I was popular, and now it was just as broken, but I was at the opposite end of where I’d been in year one. In truth, nothing had changed. Just my perception of it. I’d cared a lot about my worth points back then, when I had to do everything in my power to stay afloat. Now I knew it was a rigged system that had nothing to do with the real world, so I couldn’t care less. Being second didn’t mean I really was the second-best student at the Academy. It just meant my father was who he was, the professors were afraid of him, so they were trying to get into his good graces by boosting my grades and worth points.