by L. A. Sable
When I rounded the corner into an anteroom, nearly running into Bastian who had stopped short, I finally laid eyes on the source of the moans.
An unfamiliar girl was tied to a wooden contraption made up of tall planks surrounding by a carved circle. The girl’s wrists and ankles were tied to opposite ends of the circle with thick loops of rope, bound so tightly that the skin around it was reddened and puckered.
The contraption spun, sending her upside down in a dizzying arc, now facing toward us. I realized only then that she was completely nude, reddened streaks crisscrossing pale skin where she had been repeatedly lashed.
A streak flew across my vision, quick as the black tongue of an adder. Redness bloomed as if it had appeared by magic in a stripe on the girl’s thigh. She let out shrill shriek that set my ears to ringing. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the scene, even though I desperately wanted to. Being the voyeur to a frankly sexual scene was the last thing my fraying hold on control needed.
“Mephisto’s cross,” Bastian murmured, taking in the scene with thin arms crossed over his chest. “It’s one of his favorites.”
And when I turned my head, I saw Cynth was the one holding the whip. Bastian had wasted enough time that the vampire apparently had time to set up this scene. He hasn’t noticed us watching from the shadows, but it was only a matter of time before he did.
Then I remembered what West had said about the Acolytes delivering discipline to the students in their houses.
“You brought me this way on purpose.”
Bastian acknowledged the accusation with a small smile. “I told you this was the scenic route.”
“Great, but I’ve seen enough. Can we go now?”
But he hesitated for long enough that Cynth’s head turned in our direction, his gaze full of fire. When he caught sight of me, a sneer twisted his full lips, revealing fangs that had already descended.
“I think you made him angry,” Bastian murmurs in a stage-whisper that carries in the high-ceilinged room. “She’s in for it now.”
Still staring at me, Cynth raised the whip higher and then brought it down over and over again with a speed that no creature but a vampire was capable of producing, faster than the eye could see. The harsh slap of coiled leather meeting yielding flesh echoed off the walls. Each strike reverberates through my belly, like electric shocks pulsing through me. I practically felt the blows on my skin, sparkles of pain that only served to ignite a greater fire.
“What did she do?” I asked, hoping Bastian couldn’t hear the breathless note in my voice. “To deserve the punishment, I mean.”
“Nothing that could embarrass House Night. Cynth would have ensured her punishment was public for that.”
Which meant the girl was a vampire, and that this was one of the less severe punishments that might be delivered. “So what might earn this?”
Bastian shrugged. “Multiple tardies to class or poor marks on an assignment.”
My mouth fell open, and I quickly forced it closed, aware Cynth still watched me with hatred in his gaze. “You can get whipped with a cat-of-nine-tails for that?”
“Each House Acolyte is empowered to discipline the members of their house as they see fit.”
Discipline. There was that word again. I couldn’t fight the shiver that works its way down my spine.
“And who do the Acolytes answer to?” I ask, unable to look away as Cynth strode toward the strung up vampire girl and wrapped the whip around her neck. He leaned forward, pressing his body against her injured back and whispered something into her ear, descended fangs gliding along her skin, just short drawing blood. “Who disciplines you?”
“We answer to the headmaster alone.”
And Darius wasn’t likely to step in, save at the point of death.
My attention moved back to Cynth and the bound girl. As if he’d been waiting for me to return my focus to him, green eyes flashed in the darkness as our gazes caught. In the next moment, he sank his teeth into the exposed flesh of the girl’s neck, drawing a moan from her that echoed off the rafters.
The sound wasn’t one of pain, that fact made more obvious as the girl’s nipples hardened into peaks as the scent of her arousal filtered through the air.
And Ceres watched me with the hyper focused attention, as if the girl in his arms were an afterthought, despite the fact that he had teeth sunk into her neck.
And I feel an answering and unbidden clench deep in my belly at the frankly sexual scene.
“I’ve seen enough.” I turned abruptly on my heel toward the hallway. “I’ll find the dormitory on my own.”
“House Essence is this way.” He grabbed me by the elbow, fingers the exact temperature of the air so his touch felt like the whisper of the wind along my skin. “You don’t want to be caught out alone in the dark.”
I was still trying to figure out his angle. Bastian was the only person I’d met so far who wasn’t openly hostile, but that didn’t make him on my side.
“How does a lower court Fae manage to find his way here?”
He led me up a winding flight of stairs, lined with purple carpet. “My family is in exile, banned from returning to the Summerlands for a hundred generations.” His pale lips quirked at the look on my face. “It’s of little matter to me, you can’t miss what you’ve never had.”
I got the feeling there was significantly more to it than that, but thought better of asking for more details. Fae politics were even more complicated than the infighting between witch families.
The decorations changed as we reached the landing, portraits lined the walls of famous witches through the ages hanging in gilded frames. Witches preferred natural light, so the sconces were lit with real candles and not something as crass as an electric bulb, but their glow wasn’t enough to entirely illuminate the darkness.
“How many flights of stairs, is it?” I asked, out of breath. It didn’t help that the portraits’ eyes seem to follow us as we climbed. I would have liked to believe it was only a trick of the light, but you never knew for sure in a place like this.
“Three, I believe. Four, if the castle is in a mood.”
The castle had moods. That wasn’t precisely a pleasant thought. “Great.”
A dual trail of lights lined the walls leading up into the tower, but did not burn brightly enough to see what lay beyond.
“Who is the acolyte of House Essence?”
“There isn’t one.”
“Why not?”
He grinned, the expression impish. “Fell from the top of Essence Tower under very mysterious circumstances.”
“So not an accident?”
“I believe the word I used was mysterious.”
Murder, then. That shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise. “Was it the Three Fates?”
“Foul play was never definitively ruled out. Regardless, the seat is vacant until an appropriate candidate is found to fill it.”
You keep what you kill.
I told myself it was merely curiosity that drew the questions from my lips. “And when will that happen?”
“Whenever Headmaster Darius deigns to announce a successor.”
“How will he choose?”
“Classroom marks and raw ability play a role, I’m sure. But above all, the headmaster’s role is to identify potential. Acolytes are in the running to become full members of the Blooded, after all.”
The thought of it was seductive, enough power to ensure that I would never feel unsafe again. But power came with a price. Always.
Before I could decide what to say next, a blaze of light illuminated the floor above us, nearly blinding in its intensity. As my eyes adjust to the sudden brightness, a voice full of haughty aggravation floated down to us.
“You aren’t supposed to be here, elf.”
Primrose Blackworth stood at the top of the stairs, face set with disgust like she had just picked up her shoe and noticed a bug smashed onto the sole. She still wore her school uniform, and the dark purple
skirt was short enough to reveal the tops of her black garters. The bit of white lace at her neck shifted gently with a slight wind that blew from nowhere.
If she looked any further down at us, her chin would end up inside of her neck. I was surprised to see her by herself, even as the leader of the triumvirate, she almost never went anywhere alone. The other two points in the triangle couldn’t be far, probably coming up from behind to stab us in the back.
Bastian had gone still, even I knew enough to recognize that word was an insult. But when he spoke it was with an even tone. “Keep a civil tongue in your head, witch. Before I rip it out.”
“You don’t belong here,” she snapped. “Go back to your own house.”
“Go back to your own house.” Another Primrose said from behind me. And then I realized that there were two of her, one behind me and one in front. When the second Primrose spoke it was with Bastian’s voice and I realize he had turned himself into her.
It was an illusion, one of the most impressive I’d ever seen. Reaching out, I touched his face and the mirror-image of Primrose’s flesh didn’t so much as waver. Sympathetic magic wasn’t strong enough to stand up to touch. He even smelled like her, a mix of black orchid and sage.
“It’s certainly an improvement, but I’m not impressed,” the real Primrose bit out, a supercilious expression on her face. “Now leave before I call for the headmaster.”
“I’m an acolyte.” Bastian slid back into his own form with little more than a waver in the air around him. “I go where I please.”
“If I were the acolyte for House Essence, I’d burn you where you stand.”
Sharp teeth glinted in Bastian’s smile. “If you’re ever afforded the honor, we’ll have to speak on this again.”
Only the slight twitch in the corner of her lavender eyes betrayed a reaction. The usual haughtiness had returned to her expression when she glanced at me. “And you’re going in the wrong direction, Bastian. The trash is supposed to be taken outside.”
Well, if I’d had any doubts as to the nature of my welcome, Primrose had alleviated them. The other Fates would certainly follow her lead and so would all the other witches at the Proving Grounds. I’d have to sleep with one eye open and a blade in my hand.
“It’s nice to see you again too, Primrose.” I said with a forced smile. “How is your mother?”
Her glare was hot enough to burn through glass. “You can take the room at the top of the tower. We’ve had it closed it off because of a mold infestation. I’m sure you’ll be very comfortable.”
The room filled with mold had to be Primrose’s second choice, I was sure she would have preferred actually forcing me to sleep outside. It didn’t take an idiot to figure out that any other doors I tried would be locked and likely warded against me.
“House Aether is in the other tower, if you’d like to visit me in the night,” Bastian said, eyes seeming to glow slightly in the light of the sconces while Primrose made a disgusted sound behind me. “But if you do any wandering, be sure to carry a weapon.”
“What about House Night?” I mostly asked so I could be sure to stay far away. There was no need to make it easier for Cynth to come after me.
“The vamps make their home in the dungeons, because no one would expect them to do anything else. Their stairs are just beyond the Hall of Correction, which you saw earlier.”
The place where Cynth was beating the daylights out of a random vampire girl because she failed an exam or stayed out past curfew. I wasn’t sure if correction was the proper word for whipping someone with a cat-of-nine-tails. “Right.”
“And House Moon shares the outbuilding, which can be secured during the full moon so they don’t wander the grounds in altered form and hunt us all down.”
I didn’t question why Bastian was acting so helpful, suspecting his ulterior motive would reveal itself eventually. He didn’t strike me as the type to offer anything for free.
My eyebrows went up at that. “Are you telling me that you can’t handle a few feral animals?”
“You haven’t seen what some of them can shift into.” With that bit of warning, Bastian took a few steps down the stairs still facing me, seeming to merge with the darkness as he slowly descended the steps. “Sleep well, little apostate.”
Apostate was word for a witch without a coven, one not used often outside of history books. It made me wonder just how old he was.
“Wait.” I had one more question. “Without their own acolyte, who disciplines the students in House Essence?”
His smile flashed, full of warning and an unmistakable anticipation. “We do.”
And then he was gone, those words still shivering along my skin.
Chapter Eight
West
I flew up to the top of Essence Tower, a waxing crescent moon hanging low overhead. It was a testament to my strength as a shifter that I didn’t have to wait for the full moon to change into any of my forms.
I landed on the branch of a grand redwood that hung over the roof, talons tightly gripping the bark. Slipping into my human form with the ease of long practice, I reclined on the branch with my back pressed against the tree’s trunk, basking for a moment in the feel of moonlight on my bare skin.
It was only then that I noticed I wasn’t alone.
“What the fuck are you doing up here?”
Bastian crouched on a parapet, the silver glint of his hair shining under the moonlight. His smile is pure innocence, but I can see the mischief brimming in his gaze. “I could ask you the same thing.”
I glared at him, not appreciating the implication. “I’m on orders from the headmaster to watch her.”
“Even when she’s alone in her room?”
“Orders are orders.” The girl’s room was a few dozen feet away, window darkened without so much as a hint of movement on the other side, likely because she was asleep. Even with my eyes still shifted into the hawk form, I could see little behind the grimy glass and paper thin curtains. “I have been watching her for months, you know.”
Bastian held on to the spire with only one hand, spinning himself around like he was playing on a Maypole and not hanging hundreds of feet in the air. “Just watching? There had to be a little touching right?”
“Perhaps and perhaps not.” Sex was pretty much always on Bastian’s mind. It made him easier to manipulate. I allowed my legs to fall open, glorying in the nakedness which was my most natural state of things. His gaze immediately fell to the softened length of me before he forced himself to look away. “What’s your interest?”
“I’m always interested.” Bastian did not even have the grace to look abashed. “What are your plans for the girl?”
“We’re supposed to train her.”
His eyebrows shoot up as a dark smile spreads across his face. “Train her?”
“In combat. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“And what does she think of it?”
I was taken aback by the question. “Does that matter?”
“You think she really stands a chance against a creature as powerful as Valentine?” Bastian crouched on the roof, only the grip of his feet on the shingles keeping him from plunging to certain death. “What are the chances she’ll be able to defeat him, even with training?”
“Virtually none,” I replied, the words ringing with truth. “She’s bait, nothing more.”
Another voice floated to us on the cool wind. “Please tell me we’re going to kill her after.”
I turned to see Cynth crouched on the branch directly overhead, his expression dark as he glared in the direction of Essence Tower.
Vampires couldn’t actually fly, but they could leap high enough in the air and climb fast enough that the feat was virtually indistinguishable. I wasn’t sure when this turned into a fucking party.
“What are you doing here?” I snapped, annoyed for reasons it was difficult to put into words.
“Same as you,” Cynth replied as he dropped down to land beside me.
“Checking out the new meat. Don’t worry, I’ll save you a few pieces after I rip her to shreds.”
“You’ll have Headmaster Aquinas to answer to if you do,” Bastian replied, voice a practical sing-song. “And she may be more difficult to manage than you think, especially given her track record.”
“Watch your fucking mouth.” Cynth’s fangs descended with a sharp snick and his voice was heavy with threat. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Bastian laid back on the roof so he regarded us upside down with his head hanging down in empty air. If he shifted so much as an inch then he would fall right off the side, but there was no trace of fear in him. “I know the girl is more than she seems, which is more than can I say for you. Underestimate her, and you might suffer for it.”
“The girl is an apostate witch who’s been in hiding for almost a year,” Cynth snapped, voice practically a snarl. “I have nothing to fear from her.”
I wasn’t so sure of that, but wisely kept my opinion to myself. Even though I hadn’t yet seen her in action, I understood that Jinx was a survivor. “Regardless, she’s off limits until the thing is done.”
We hadn’t ever really discussed the plan to take down the leader of the Blooded, all of us had simply accepted that completing this task would be what stood between us and full initiation into the Blooded. Becoming one of them was the highest honor imaginable in our world, I’d wanted it for so long that I no longer thought to question the reason why.
Until I’d seen her, born to our world and choosing to live outside of it. Nothing about her made even the smallest bit of sense. If she’d truly been unable to use magic, like so many people thought was the case for most of her life, hiding out would make sense. But I’d seen her use her power and there was no such thing as a witch who refused to wield their gift.
That alone made her interesting, to say the least.