by Abby James
He rested his forehead on my shoulder. “I can chain you to me. Make you desire no one else. Make you do whatever I say. You will be my slave. And you will desire me always, even when you no longer want to.”
“Hmmm…yes please.” Words of bliss kept spilling from his mouth.
“You’re not of the right mind to make that decision.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one to decide that?”
“You will hate me for what I do to you. You will fight, and I will be forced to break you because I will never let you go.”
“Eternal damnation at the hands of a vampire. Where do I sign up?”
I knew because of his smell and the feeling and energy that overtook me. I’d had Luca’s power in me before. I knew what it felt like, knew what he felt like.
“You need to sleep.”
“Only unless you’re there too.”
He turned me. Finally he twisted me around so I could face him. A hand cupped my chin, fingers pressed firm into my cheeks. “When you are sober, ask me then. And I will do as you desire.”
Finally the talk was over. Finally his lips moved closer to mine. When his lips touched mine, I opened my mouth and inhaled the smell, the taste, all of him, waiting, wanting, aching for the feel of his tongue.
But darkness was all that came. A darkness so thick I couldn’t escape. All I could do was fall inside.
16
I waited inside Dean McGilus’s office, as per the message, which had appeared on my scribe first thing this morning.
I glanced around me at the walls of book shelves filled with ancient looking spines and files, wooden boxes and masses of paperwork haphazardly stacked, some sheets threatening to spill onto the floor. I itched to go over and have a look, run my finger along the spines and see what sorts of medieval treasures he had stacked in this room. The books alone would cost a fortune sold at auction. What drew my interest was the detail within the pages. These books would contain centuries of supernatural lore, accounts of life before such things as supernatural academies existed, hundreds of thousands of pages of history about the other side of humanity, the side where people could do amazing and sometimes scary things.
My curiosity broke. I headed for the closest shelf. My eyes zeroed in on a thick volume, waist height. The cursive crawl of a title, running down the spine, told me nothing of what was inside. The book was fat and heavy so I carried it back to the desk as the last thing I wanted to do was drop it on the ground while I was pawing through the pages and tear the spine in half.
Hand written cursive scroll filled every page. Exaggerated swirls and words crammed tight together. No way would I be able to read any of this. I leaned in closer as if my distance was the problem, to realize none of it was written in english. I flipped pages and found the writing had changed, a different quill, or whatever they used back then, a greater slant to the left, or a smaller curl at the tail of the Y. Many people had contributed to this book, building on the knowledge through time.
I jerked like I’d been caught doing something illegal when McGilus burst through the door.
“Sorry,” he announced, “some important business came up elsewhere.” His eyes glanced to the book I had laid out on his desk.
“I’m sorry. I got bored and then curious.”
“By all means. These books are every supernatural’s heritage. Most at Darkwells wouldn’t bother to read then though. And some books are too subversive to be read.”
“Is this one of them?”
He leaned over my shoulder, adjusting his reading glasses farther up his nose. “Now that is an interesting tale.” He jabbed at the open page. “But not subversive.”
“Subversive in what way?”
“Anything that speaks out against the beliefs of the majority.”
“But that’s good, because the general beliefs of the majority aren’t always a good fit for everyone. And if no one bothered to voice their opinions the government would keep doing what they want without thought to the people who elected them.”
McGilus sat down in his seat. “That’s quite the speech. The subversion I am talking about is somewhat more dangerous than laws that make seatbelt wearing compulsory. Our history is no different to wissend history. We’ve had our a fair share of despots, and lunatics claiming their superiority over the rest of the supernatural factions. The teachings I am particularly concerned about I keep locked away.”
“What are those about?”
McGilus removed his glasses and began to clean them on the hem of his shirt. “You have started your lessons in A history of the supernatural?”
“I’ve had some classes.”
“Then it’s likely you have heard of Viktrum Dirundri.”
I shook my head and slid into the chair next to me.
“He was a very powerful sorcerer, arrogant, greedy, cunning and, unfortunately, charming and charismatic. His thinking was progressive for his time in that he saw all supernaturals as belonging to the same race. He was instrumental in the development of Darkwells. He spent much time abroad encouraging others to follow his teachings and to envision a future where supernaturals were united. He spoke at great length of Darkwells and its potential for all supernatural factions. See, you must understand, until Viktrum, the factions were divided. The more powerful magic wielders claimed territories for their faction and terrible wars were fought to ensure their stronghold. The lesser supernaturals living within these territories were often enslaved. You must have heard mention of the Cruces war even if not in class?”
I nodded.
“The last great war that came close to annihilating supernaturals from the face of this earth. Viktrum was born in the aftermath. You can see the circumstances that led to his beliefs.”
“Maybe it was subversive to people’s way of thinking back then, but it doesn’t sound so subversive now.”
“It was what the supernatural community needed to rebuild themselves. But Viktrum did not stop there. He could see that, much like our wissend counterparts, the great mix of factions were never really going to exist in harmony. It seems a sad reality of both worlds. And so he believed the only way to keep his people from fighting each other again was to create a common enemy.”
“The wissend.”
“And that is why his works are vaulted. Unfortunately, Viktrum was not the only person to have such thoughts.”
“You mean the skurk.”
“Yes. They are but a few. We try very hard to stamp out their influence but their leader is smart. He has developed ways of disguising the use of their abilities, which makes it very hard for the caster guild to detect unlawful use of magic.”
“I ran into one or two of them before you came and got me.”
His eyebrows slid up to his hairline as he eyed me. “Indeed. It is no surprise, but it seems you have kept a few secrets.”
“People have to earn my trust.”
“That is understandable. I guess I should feel privileged then.”
Now it was my turn to frown.
“You willingly volunteered the information.” He entwined his fingers and rested his hands in his lap as he leaned back in his chair. “Is there something else you wish to volunteer?”
I stared at him, for an instant struggling to understand why the question. Then I thought of Luca. Did he tell McGilus about me? Maybe that was a good thing. I was sick of creating walls to keep people out of my secrets. “I don’t think I’m an empath.”
McGilus sat forward. “I never thought you were.”
“Oh, so Luca never said anything to you?”
“Luca, why would he need to speak to me?”
Oops.
“It was the day of our first meeting. When we shook hands. Can you explain that to me?” McGilus said.
“I don’t know. And that’s the truth. I’m confused about everything. But when I touch people I feel their ability.”
“Is that all?”
“I’m not lying about anything else.”
“You miss understand me. Is feeling their ability all that happens?”
“I seem to repel what I feel. I think that’s how it goes.”
McGilus rubbed his chin as he looked at me. He rose from his seat and came around the desk. “I have been pondering what happened in our first meeting all this time. I thought it best to hear what Ms Lane had to say first. And now with what you have revealed…I’m curious.”
He sat in the chair next to me. “Hold out your hands, palms up.”
I did as told, with a dozen questions buzzing through my head.
“This is what I want you to do.” He hovered his hands above mine. “As soon as you feel anything, the slightest twinge, I want you to look down at that wastebasket. Focus on it believing it to be the only thing in the room. You understand?”
“Sure.”
“Are you ready?”
I nodded.
He wriggled his fingers then slowly lowered his hands until they were inches above my own. “Remember, stare at the bin, think of only the bin.”
He lowered them again until the very edge of his palms touched me. The instant sensation that raced through my body charged me like a light bulb, magnified ten times. I could feel the energy about to thump through into my chest, so I jerked my head toward the bin and focused as hard as I could. The bin shot off the ground hurtling straight up and smashed into the ceiling. It was only after the bin had embedded high up in the ceiling did I realize McGilus had let me go.
“Interesting,” he said, with the kind of voice that sounded like he just learned of a new formula for brewing non explodable ginger beer. “That makes everything clear.”
“Are you going to tell me because I’m more confused?”
Ms Rhinecroft burst into the room, wearing a form-fitting dress that cut low and bunched at the front to add volume and depth where it was not needed.
“Is everything all right?” she said, standing in the doorway like some vixen super tramp dolled up for a night with the president, every man’s dream in other words.
“Yes, Ms Rhinecroft. We’re all very well, indeed.”
Her siren red lips stayed open like she was about to ask another question, then she cast McGilus a wistful glance and backed out of the room and shut the door. McGilus missed her look as he was too busy staring up at the bin in the ceiling. Rhinecroft for all her buxom beauty had a thing for middle aged professor like figures.
“It is a complex situation. Puzzling. I think I have heard of a situation similar.” He rambled to himself.
Next minute he scrambled to a bookcase across the room. Running a finger along the spines, he mumbled to himself some more. “Ah, here we are.”
He pulled out a fat book and hefted it to his desk. “I will need to consult your family lineage a little closer it seems. I must’ve missed something. I believe Ms Lane gave you one of your own.”
“Yes she did. But does this mean you can’t tell me what ability you think I have?”
“I feel pretty sure of my assumption. I would like to view your ancestral history for possibilities, but I guess I can tell you what I believe.”
He thumped the huge book on the table. “What you are is extremely rare. So rare I have heard of only one case before. The ability was first labeled back,” he arched his head to the ceiling in thought. “Late nineteenth century, I believe. Evolutionary Genetics in abilities is a fascinating study. I believe you will touch on that subject in year two.”
It was no more fascinating than him telling me what the hell he was rambling on about.
“The short of it is our abilities evolve and grow. Naturally inter-factional marriages have increased this evolution, which was slow to non-existent in our early history as inter-factional marriages were forbidden. Now the laws no longer exist, inter-factional marriage has become the norm, and I believe this has resulted in a slow change in our genetics.”
He stared at me as if that was explanation enough. On seeing my expression he continued. “It was once impossible to have more than one ability. Even with the mix breeding, supernatural abilities breed pure. Offspring were either one faction or another, depending on their parent’s gifts or their ancestry. It’s to do with the strength of the genes. But evolution is playing its part and we are slowly changing.”
“So it’s possible to be born with more than one ability now?”
“There have been no recorded cases yet of a mixed breed birth, but there is one case of a man who became a mixed breed later in life. The fascinating thing is neither ability rejected the other, which is how it normally works. You see, the body attacks the invading DNA, treating it like an infection. But in this case it never happened, instead the new DNA incorporated itself into the existing DNA to create a mixed breed. It’s an incredible discovery.”
“What does this have to do with me?”
“You are also a genetic marvel.”
Great I was an evolutionary mutant. “What am I?”
“Miss Wright, I believe you are a channeling.”
“You mean changeling, like the cuckoo eggs.”
“No. Channeling. You have the gift of channeling another supernatural’s ability. In fact, you have no apparent ability of your own, only that which you gain from another through direct contact. And it would seem through this short experiment, you have the ability to not just channel but to also wield.”
“You’re saying I’m like a vampire only I suck people’s abilities rather than their blood.”
“Something like that, yes. But as I said, it’s extremely rare. And it is probably best for now to keep this understanding to yourself.”
So everyone doesn’t treat me like a leper.
“You do understand why?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“We are no different, my child, to the wissend in shameful ways. People fear those different from them, and especially anything they don’t understand or can’t explain.”
“I know.”
I couldn’t help but think of Luca, and how he knew I was different, but he didn’t understand why. I’d not seen him since he took me to the rooftop. There were some dreams from the night of the party. Embarrassing dreams because they involved sex. Not actual sex, but me trying to get Luca’s clothes off and whispering onto his lips how much I wanted him. Amy had burst into my room at some early hour, waking me from those luscious dreams by pouncing on top of me and crying out how sorry she was for abandoning me, but Duncan had swept her into a quiet corner of the room, which in reality probably wasn’t that quiet given how packed Draak had been, where they shared some sexy talk. As far as she could remember, the conversation ended with her tongue down his throat and her hands down his pants before they’d been cruelly ripped apart by some of his friends who wanted to go up onto the roof and conjure fireworks. And that’s when she realized I’d disappeared.
My dreams had felt real, but when I asked Amy if she’d noticed whether Luca was there she said the vamps never go to any of the parties. They were too busy trawling the vamp clubs on the outside looking for a meal. When she had said that I was overwhelmed by a sickening feeling in my stomach, which could only be jealousy. The idea of Luca searching the club for the right sort of woman, then ensnaring her within his thrall and leading her off somewhere private where she could get hooked on the drug of his bite had made me want to pull my covers over my head and sulk. My reaction could only be from my sexy dreams and the fact I’d not had sex in a very long time. Pent up hunger will make a woman feel crazy things.
“I do remember offering to teach you to block your mind against fae invasion, but I think it will be more complex in light of this new discovery. It’s best to keep your distance from the fae for now until you have a better handle on your ability.” He rested his hands on the desk. “Now for the bad news. I’m not yet sure how to proceed with your training. I will have to think about it. You can stick with your general classes for now. And now you best head off. I’ve much to think about.”
I rose, then hesitated
. “Is there anyway I can speak with Nathan?”
McGilus looked sideways at me. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”
“Can I see him?”
“Due to this recent discovery, I don’t think it would be wise. A phone call I am happy to allow Ms Rhinecroft to organize, but in the foreseeable future you must keep what we have discussed to yourself. And that means your closest. Especially those who still remain on the outside.”
“Why especially those?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Do you doubt Nathan’s loyalty to the Darkwells ethos?”
“Nathan has proved himself worthy over the last fifteen years, but that has not always been the case.”
“Why, what do you mean?”
McGilus sighed the sound of an old man. “There is not enough time left in the day for that conversation. But, listen to me, Miss Wright. Nathan has proved his loyalty to you over these years. I do not believe he would ever choose to hurt you.”
“Choose to, but he would be made to. Is that what you are saying?”
“I will see to it you have your conversation with Nathan but no more than that.”
“Is he caught up with the skurk?”
“No, he most certainly is not. But he was caught up in some nefarious affairs at one point with one cult group that were as great a threat as the skurk.”
“Was, were, past tense words. Does this mean he’s good now?”
“If he wasn’t, I would never have charged him with keeping an eye on you when your parents died. The group was disbanded, most of the cult leaders are now imprisoned.”
“But not all.”
“We continue to monitor the situation. There have been no new developments for years. The casters appear to have been successful in neutralizing the threat. But, as I say, we remain constantly vigilant. And now, Miss Wright, you really must go.”
As he spoke my scribe vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to find a reminder of my next class.
McGilus sat back, staring at me. “I will have Mrs Trouel create a new class schedule as of tomorrow. Please head to student admin first thing and she will give you a new scribe.”