by Bailey, G.
I guess now’s not the time to try to sort out my feelings for them all, anyway. We’ve got bigger things to worry about, and from the sounds of it, this conference isn’t going to be the kind of thing I can just push to the background, anyway. Better to keep my eyes peeled for more shenanigans from the school administration—not that I’m sure I’ll even be able to do anything to stop them if they pull something, but that’s beside the point.
I’m so lost in my own thoughts that I don’t even realise Amelia Ash is waiting for me at the end of the hall until I bump into her, taking a few stumbling steps back as I’m brought reeling back to the present. My heart sinks as soon as I see her; I’ve done a decent job of avoiding her ever since Silas’ kidnapping, but I should have figured I would run into her sooner or later. I suppose I at least owe her for indirectly leading me to the group of guys; if we hadn’t gotten into a fight with her in the schoolyard that day a couple months ago, we wouldn’t have bonded during our time in detention. But that’s all beside the point, and it doesn’t make my current situation any less uncomfortable.
Running into her is like running into a brick wall, and she doesn’t seem fazed in the least by the collision, standing with her arms crossed over her chest and a put off expression on her face. “Where are you headed now, hybrid?” she asks. Her voice is cool and steady, but there’s a note of barely disguised contempt in it that sets my teeth on edge.
“Class,” I reply, struggling to keep my unease from creeping through in my tone. “Last I checked, I don’t have an off period right now.”
“Sure, sure,” she says. “What form is it this time? Actually, never mind - I just remembered I don’t care.”
“Great,” I mutter, moving to the left in an attempt to sidestep her. “In that case, I think I’m going to go. Excuse me.”
She moves along with me, blocking my path, her blue eyes flashing. “We need to talk, Brix.”
I sigh. “I’m kind of busy, Amelia. I need to get to class.”
“Class can wait.” She stares me down, her pale skin lending her an inhuman quality in the low afternoon light that streams in through the hallway windows.
Clenching my hands into fists at my sides, I say, “Fine. What is it?”
“You’ve been avoiding me,” she says, “and with the field trip coming up, it’s high time we talked about my brother.” Ah. Of course. What else would it freaking be? It wasn’t enough for her to retake the elementary vampire shifting class with Hunter and I; now she needs to harass me in the hallways. “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with him lately,” she observes, putting a hand on her waist and tilting her head to one side.
“I guess that’s true,” I admit. “Hunter’s a big boy, Amelia. If he wants to hang out with me, that’s his call.”
She sniffs. “Maybe. But what’s not his call is getting dragged into conflicts with the school faculty.”
My stomach drops. I guess I should have figured she would hear about what happened sooner or later. I have been banking on later, though. I clear my throat. “I needed his help,” I tell her. “There were students going missing. He was the only one who could get us into the-”
“By breaking and entering,” she snaps. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to him? Did you even care?”
“Look,” I say, putting my hands up, “I didn’t want to put him in danger. And I don’t plan on doing it again.”
“You’d better not,” Amelia warns me, her voice taking on a new edge. “Especially now that we’re all going to Boston. You heard Hawthorne—things are dangerous out there right now. I don’t want my brother getting caught up in any more of your bullshit.”
“Language, Ms. Ash,” comes a new voice from behind us, sending a fresh pang of dread through my chest. I turn around to see Hawthorne approaching us from the other end of the hallway, his footsteps eerily quiet. “I heard my name mentioned,” he adds, coming to a stop next to us and crossing his arms. “Is everything all right?”
Amelia clears her throat and looks away, while I remain frozen to the spot.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
Chapter 31
Something about President Hawthorne has put me off since long before he started making veiled threats and sweeping the faculty's experiments under the rug. It has nothing to do with the fact that he's human, and everything to do with the fact that there's nothing behind his eyes. His face is like a mask of kind expressions and soothing words, but his character doesn't match up. Mollie, the one foster mom I actually loved, always told me that you shouldn't look at a person's mouth when they speak if you want to know what they're really thinking- you should look at their eyes. And Hawthorne's eyes display nothing but cold calculation and secret plans. Whether he's picked up on my suspicions is another story, though.
"Shouldn't you ladies be in class right now?" he asks pleasantly. "Just because we're having a school trip doesn't mean you can stop taking your lessons seriously."
"Er, yes," I reply, standing stiffly. "We were just-"
"I was just explaining to Millie here that she can't go stirring up trouble when we're in Boston," Amelia cuts in. "Especially when my brother is involved. You know Hunter has been having some trouble mastering his form—he's not cut out for rule breaking and wild conspiracy theories." Her face has taken on an angelic cast, and I have to admire her ability to change tones on a dime, even if she is a manipulative snake.
"Well, I'd say you're quite right, Ms. Ash," Hawthorne agrees, nodding. "In times like these, we need to focus on supporting each other in our studies, not in stirring up trouble. Wouldn't you agree, Ms. Brix?"
I look down at my shoes. "I guess."
"Good," he says, clapping his hands together. "I'm glad we're all on the same page. Now, Ms. Ash, feel free to head to class. Ms. Brix - a word, if you don't mind."
My stomach drops as I watch Amelia saunter away, looking like the cat that ate the canary. And here I was thinking that school bullies didn't exist in university. Slowly I turn my gaze back to Hawthorne, pasting an accommodating smile on my face. "Yes, President?"
He puts his hands behind his back, looking thoughtfully out the window. "Ms. Ash is a good student," he says. "A little preoccupied, maybe, but bright. Her head is in the right place. I think you could learn a thing or two from her."
"I..." I clear my throat. "I'm not sure I follow, Sir."
"I realise you haven't had the easiest go of it in the months you've been here," Hawthorne replies. "Part of that's on me, I think—it's always difficult to integrate students whose parents weren't shifters, and I understand that it's difficult to find a community here—especially when, like Hunter, you've been having such a hard time mastering your abilities." I grit my teeth at the subtle dig, keeping my expression neutral. "I can understand wanting to know more about your past," he continues, still not meeting my eyes. "It makes sense that you would fall in with someone as paranoid as Mr. Aconite."
"Paranoid?" I shake my head. "I'm sorry, Sir, but I don't think Silas is paranoid. He..." I catch myself, stopping abruptly mid-sentence.
"Yes?" Hawthorne raises an eyebrow. "You can speak freely, Ms. Brix."
There's a long pause. "I know he shouldn't have broken into the registrar's office," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. "But imprisoning him and torturing him?" I shake my head. "It's not right."
"As we've discussed, what happened with Ms. Goldstein was an isolated incident," Hawthorne replies coolly. "You know she is—was—a witch shifter. They have a history of meddling in magical genetics—they were, after all, the ones to pioneer hybrids. I have no doubt that her intentions were good, and that she wanted to make sure Mr. Aconite was punished for what he did, but she was misguided. These kinds of experiments are forbidden, and there was no excuse for performing them on one of our own students. That's why we've... dealt with Ms. Goldstein."
So that's the story he's sticking with. Part of me does want to believe him, to let him lead me to thi
nk this really was just a faculty member gone rogue, but another, saner part is railing against it. Samantha was a patsy, and now that the rest of the students know what happened, she makes a convenient scapegoat. It blew up in their faces, and now they're doing damage control.
It really is the same no matter where you go.
"And Silas?" I ask, afraid to know the answer. "What happens to him?"
"I think Mr. Aconite has learned his lesson about prying into school records - don't you?" Hawthorne gives me a thin smile. "To be perfectly honest, it's you who I'm most concerned about. Don't let what happened with Ms. Goldstein fill your head with strange ideas."
"You don't have to worry about me, Sir." I meet his gaze, staring up at him as defiantly as I dare. "I'm going to be fine - on this trip, and afterward."
"I hope so," says Hawthorne, nodding slowly. "Because getting in over your head with these kinds of things never ends well, and this academy has a limited amount of places. And none for students who cause trouble. Have a good rest of your day, Ms. Brix." And with that, he turns on his heel and disappears down the hallway.
I watch him go and realise after a moment that my hands are balled into fists at my sides.
I may not be a very good shapeshifter, but I recognize a threat when I hear one.
* * *
"You don't look so good, Millie," Hazel informs me, swatting at a fly that seems very interested in her blonde curls. "A little queasy, actually."
"It's the travel," I lie, not making eye contact. "I've only teleported the one time—when Samantha and Josie first brought me here."
"For whatever it's worth, it gets easier every time," she says. "I almost puked the first time."
"Call me crazy, but I don't think reminding her of that is going to make it any better," mutters Hunter from where he's standing off to the left.
"I'm just trying to help," retorts Hazel.
"It's fine," I tell them. "I'm fine." Teleportation has never been an issue for me—at least, it wasn't, the only time I've ever experienced it. The truth is that I'm still uneasy after my run-in with Hawthorne. It didn't help that he made me late for my next class, either, but that's beside the point; I don't like the idea of his eyes on me, or any of my friends. And something tells me that we've only just hit the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what the administration will do to keep things under wraps. But I'm not about to dump that all on my friends right now - especially when they all seem thrilled to be leaving for Boston.
The students are all assembled in the quad, a thick throng of people all jostling each other and talking in excited voices. The rest of the week seemed to crawl by at a snail's pace, to the point where I was almost going stir-crazy. After finalizing the logistics and finishing our packing, the day has finally arrived, and in spite of my nerves, I couldn't be happier to be getting a change of scenery.
I was actually wondering how we were going to travel to America; there are hundreds of students at the Academy, and it seemed like a tall order to transport us all, but the faculty seems to have it all figured out. I suppose this beats an eight-hour flight followed by another hour going through customs, at any rate. I've heard they're pretty uptight about that sort of thing.
Either way, here we all are: huddled in a cluster around one of the low stone benches in the courtyard while we wait for things to get underway. Faculty fellows are milling about, doing head counts, while the professors and President stand off to the side, talking in low voices as they watch the proceedings.
"I'd rather we do it the old-fashioned way," Shade remarks from where he's sprawled out on the bench.
Silas turns to him, looking surprised. "Seriously?"
The wolf-shifter nods. "Don't tell me you don't miss plane travel. Tiny drinks, standing in line for hours, getting felt up by security agents…"
"I can't tell if you're being serious or not," Landon says.
Shade just grins at him.
I turn to Hunter, who's standing a little ways away from the rest of us. He's the quietest of the group, with a glumness about him that seems almost cliche, considering he's a vampire shifter. He's always struck me as a bit fastidious and neurotic, but then again, if I had Amelia as a sister, I would probably be, too. At the end of the day, he's a good guy, and he came through for us when it mattered. That matters more to me than how talkative he is. "I kind of figured you would be traveling with the rest of the Board members," I say, putting my hands in my pockets as I peer at him. "I saw Amelia over there with your dad."
"Right." He sighs, glancing in their direction; the fiery redheads of his family are engaged in some sort of deep conversation, although I could swear I see Amelia shoot us a contemptuous look. "Believe me, they wanted me to."
I raise my eyebrows. "You said no?" He nods. "Why, though?" I ask. "It would probably be easier for you all. First class treatment, and all that."
Hunter looks at me, and something flickers across his face. "I…" He sighs, rubbing his arm. "Maybe I'd rather travel with you," he says finally, looking like he's struggling to stay composed. Seeming to realise his mistake, his eyes go wide, and he struggles to course-correct. "I mean, you guys," he adds hastily. "All of you. You know."
I come close to asking what he means, but the poor guy already looks painfully flustered, so I let it go. "Well, we're glad to have you along," I tell him, clapping him jovially on the shoulder. He stiffens at my touch, like an electric shock has just gone through him, but says nothing else.
At that moment, Josie, one of the faculty fellows, approaches us, rubbing her hands together. Josie was one of the two recruiters who found me after my powers first manifested, along with Samantha. Both witch-shifters, they were the ones who brought me to the Academy in the first place. She's gorgeous, with dark skin, a cascade of glossy curls, and a kind smile, but I feel myself bristle as she approaches, even still. After Samantha showed her true colours, I'm not about to let my guard down again. As far as I'm concerned, everyone working for the Academy is suspect.
"All right, guys," she says in a commanding voice, loudly enough that the talking dies down. "We're going to be transporting you in groups of around ten. The faculty and administrators will be going separately as soon as we get there, you are all to wait on the school grounds until everyone has arrived." She nods to a couple of other women dressed in faculty uniforms, and they begin to shapeshift in unison, their skin going red and their eyes turning black. This makes sense, as powers can only be used in full or partial shifter form.
Josie steps forward, beckoning to us and a cluster of other students. "You all will be with me," she says, extending a hand to me and smiling. "Good to see you again, Millie."
"Likewise," I reply, returning her smile as I take her hand. Hunter comes to stand on my other side, joining his hand with mine, and the six of us form a chain along with the others in the group.
"Well," Josie says, checking one last time to make sure we're all accounted for, "enough of these formalities. Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"
Chapter 32
The sensation is familiar, and I’m reminded of the time not so long ago when I was first introduced to teleportation magic. That day on the docks feels like a lifetime ago, and in a sense, it was, but I don’t miss the panic I felt when the witches’ magic began to work on me. This time it’s less frightening, although I chalk that up partly to the fact that Landon’s warm hand is in mine, steadying me on my feet as pulses of tingling energy begin to course through my body. It’s still a little off-putting to open my eyes and see that my limbs are starting to turn translucent, as if in a slow dissolve in a movie. The energy continues to grow in intensity, and I remind myself to relax so that Josie’s job can be made easier. I can’t help but steal a glance at the ground beneath my feet to see the grass of the courtyard begin to waver and shift before my eyes. It slowly fades, going from a verdant green to a shade of dull grey as the magic continues to course through me. One look at the others tells me that they’re in the same boat,
their bodies taking on that same noncorporeal look as we hurtle through time and space, jumping across the planet in a matter of seconds. It’s truly astounding.
Suddenly, almost as soon as it begins, the sensation subsides, and a warm breeze whips my hair as I look around. The Academy lawn is a world away; gone are the stone benches and old-fashioned buildings of the boarding school, replaced by one of the most modern campuses I’ve ever seen in my life. We’re standing on the curb at the bottom of a gently sloping hill that leads up to a sleek, squat building. Paneled glass windows stretch practically from floor to ceiling, and thin yellow columns support an asymmetrical geometric roof that tilts upward at an angle. Trees line the sidewalk, and as I look around, I see that this isn’t some isolated island like the one where our school is located; in the distance, buildings break up the horizon on all sides. This area seems vaguely suburban, but farther out, I can make out the shapes of skyscrapers, clock towers, and colonial-style municipal buildings. I can only assume that’s downtown Boston, and we’re somewhere on the outskirts. It’s astonishing to me that they would put a shapeshifting academy right in the middle of human society like this, and I wonder if the unrest Hawthorne mentioned has affected the students here in any way.
Josie lets go of my hand and rubs her palm down her face. She looks tired from the exertion, but she handled the teleportation spectacularly, all the same. Her body is still red and glowing with her magic, and she turns around after composing herself for a moment to make sure everyone is here. All around us, I can see other groups beginning to manifest, the witches keeping a careful eye on their charges as more and more students appear in the lot. “I’m heading back for another round,” Josie tells me. “Stay put here until we’ve brought everyone over.”