Faerie Marked (Fae Academy for Halflings Book 1)

by Brea Viragh

  “To continue their investigation, I’d imagine,” Roman answered as though I should have expected the answer.

  “I…I kind of thought the Fae would take care of matters themselves,” I admitted.

  “And normally they would, but the kid was half-human, and policy dictates the human authorities must be involved in the proceedings.”

  I looked at Mike. “You said your guard detail has been extra cautious?” I hadn’t even noticed his guards. Wasn’t I supposed to be on high alert? Apparently, my observational skills were pretty crummy.

  “Yes. They want me to leave here and return home until the matter is settled, but…” Mike paused and spared a glance at his friend. “Classes are going on like normal and I don’t want to leave. If the academy is going forward with business as usual, then I’m staying. End of discussion.”

  “What do your parents have to say about the incident, Your Hi—M-Mike?” Melia asked. She’d finally found her voice.

  Mike shrugged and grabbed a piece of bacon. “They haven’t said anything yet. I’m not sure if they’re just waiting for more info from the police or if they’re trying to formulate a public statement for the benefit of the school and I’m simply not privy to it yet.”

  He took a bite and ripped the bacon in half.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Roman answered easily. Somehow, he’d become the voice of reason. “I’m sure it was an isolated incident. We were the unlucky ones who found him, but with the security at the school, I’m sure this isn’t going to happen again.”

  I finished my eggs and moved on to my hash browns, dipping them in ketchup one by one. “I can’t help but worry,” I told them all between bites. “This kind of thing isn’t supposed to happen. The academy is supposed to be a safe place.”

  Mike reached across the table and placed his hand on top of mine for a brief moment, giving me a light pat. “No one is going to hurt you, Tavi.”

  I jerked my hand away. “You can never be too careful.”

  I’d saved the best for last, taking a bite of my biscuit and gravy, watching Mike and Roman talking to Melia about our game of Capture the Scroll last night and taking her through it from start to finish.

  And felt suddenly like a bucket of ice-cold water had been thrown over me.

  There was no water, not really. But there was cold. The cold bit down deep to the marrow of my bones and I stared at my hands, the skin rippling before my vision went blurry. I grabbed on to the side of the table when it felt like an earthquake shook me, unable to keep from groaning.

  “Hey, girl. Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

  I glanced up to see Melia rising, crossing around to crouch at my side to bring her to my eye level.

  Clearing my throat, I tried to think of a reason why my potion spell had apparently broken. I felt my shifter senses returning, vision finally clear and sharp, sense of smell rising to the point where I could focus on the sweet-smelling sweat on Mike’s forehead.

  “Is there garlic in this?” I pointed to the gravy then hissed as a rush of cold had my fingers shaking. It was the only explanation I could find. Sure enough, the more I tuned in to the scents, the more I could make out the tang of garlic.

  Melia reached out to steady me when I tipped to the side, my balance off. “I’m not sure. Why? Are you a vampire?” she joked, though I could hear the concern in her tone.

  The rest of them laughed while the whole of me filled with dread. Did they see me for myself? Was there anything different, now that I’d been exposed?

  “I have to go.”

  I bolted out of the chair, leaving my tray behind and fighting to clear a path out of the cafeteria.

  It didn’t matter what anyone thought. All that mattered was reaching the dorm and getting a new vial of potion. I kept one hand raised to my face as though to shield it as I ran. One vial behind already, I thought, pushing through the door to my dorm out of breath.

  At least the room was empty.

  I fumbled up the ladder and thrust my pillow to the side, flipping the latch on the box and grabbing the second vial. Chugging it down. The concoction again tasted absolutely disgusting but it worked immediately. There were no crazy side effects this time. I didn’t fall to my knees on the edge of death’s door. My head swam a bit and I watched my skin crawl as though an army of ants were making their way from wrist to elbow.

  Disgusting.

  But it worked.

  I felt an invisible blanket of haze and heat fall over me, a dulling of my shifter senses until my inner wolf sank down with a low growl.

  Damn garlic.

  Who put garlic in sausage gravy, anyway? I hadn’t been thinking about the possibility. I hadn’t been thinking about anything besides the body we’d found. I was going to have to be much more careful in the future.

  My first class of the afternoon began at one, giving me enough time to compose myself before I sat at what had become my usual desk. I struggled to focus and make a good impression when I couldn’t seem to get my brain on the right track.

  A dead half-Fae boy.

  A contender for top of the class.

  No apparent motive. No real leads.

  I couldn’t make sense of the text in front of me. The teacher’s voice had become a blur of syllables and none of them were clear. Part of me wondered if things like this happened often and the school just pushed it under the rug…or if my being here had something to do with his death.

  No, it couldn’t possibly have anything to do with me. I didn’t even know the boy. No one here knew about my wolf side. The potion made sure of it. Besides, if they did, they would come after me, not anyone else.

  A knock on the door interrupted the lecturing professor and she stopped, magic fluttering around her fingertips. “May I help you, Ma’am?”

  I didn’t recognize the woman at the door, although her face was vaguely familiar to me. “I need to see Miss Alderidge, Mr. Meuller, and Miss Elspeth, please.”

  I stood slowly along with two others and we shared a look. They’d been outside with me last night playing Capture the Scroll when we found the student in the tree. My heart dropped to the bottom of my feet. The headmaster had spoken to all of us. Now it was the police’s turn.

  The three of us followed the office assistant over to a private room just off the headmaster’s quarters. I recognized his title on the nameplate outside the door. We were told to sit, trying not to stare at each other as we were urged into the office one by one by a man with a shiny pewter badge pinned to his jacket lapel.

  The human inspector the school had called in. It made sense, I told myself, for him to talk to us as well. He was doing his job and trying to get a sense of what had happened last night. It didn’t lessen my terror.

  I tried to wait my turn while my insides churned and the rest of me felt hot and itchy. The two others were called in first, their interviews lasting less than fifteen minutes total before they walked out past me with pale faces and gazes averted. Soon I waited alone.

  And couldn’t help but overhear the low murmur of voices coming from the other room.

  “I refuse to allow a werewolf into my school. Tell the force to send someone else.”

  My spine went iron-straight and I nearly fell out of my chair at the words.

  A werewolf. Had they somehow figured out my secret?

  Had Nurse Julie really seen something weeks ago when she’d scrutinized me with the knowing look in her eyes?

  Oh no…

  “I might be a werewolf but I work for the human world. Do you want humans to know about your magic school by revealing my true nature to them and asking someone else to take the case? Because I’m the best on the task force and the only one truly equipped to deal with your little problem here.”

  My eyes widened as I figured it out at last. They weren’t talking about me. Whoever Headmaster Leaves argued with, they still hadn’t found me out. I glanced left and right, making sure there was no one else in the room with me. Then crept
forward and pressed my ear against the door to hear better.

  “I’m simply not comfortable letting someone like you handle the case. You’ll pardon me if I have a little hesitation to move forward with this investigation,” the headmaster stated. I heard his fingers drum against the desktop as he sighed.

  Fabric rustled. “If neither of us says a word, then your kind and my kind remain hidden. Safely. But you have to let me do my job without question. You can’t follow along behind me or sit in on my interviews. You certainly cannot speak to my superiors at the station about having me removed.”

  “Without question?” Headmaster Leaves squawked. “You’re asking a lot, Wilson.”

  Someone growled, the sound ending on a groan. “I’m asking for the minimum you would afford a detective of any other kind. Stay out of my way and I’ll find your killer. End of story. Do you understand?”

  The headmaster didn’t like the other man’s closing statement, if his indignant sputter was an indication of his feelings.

  The door swung open and I scrambled back, nearly making it to the chair in time before Leaves and the detective strode forward. The werewolf detective, I told myself, schooling my face into a semblance of nonchalance even as my heart raced. Headmaster Leaves didn’t even look at me on his way out the door, his teeth clenched and a muscle twitching in his jaw. Apparently, he’d been booted from his office for this.

  “Miss Alderidge?” the detective barked out, staring down at me and not liking what he saw.

  Were my cheeks flushed? I swallowed hard and nodded.

  With a sniff he gestured for me to follow him. “Come.”

  I paused for the briefest moment.

  “Well, come on!”

  I jumped at the sound of his voice and poured on the speed, closing the door behind me.

  Lean and sinewy, the detective moved with the supernatural grace inherent to shifters, a kind of predatory slowness coupled with a surety and confidence matched by no other species.

  Clearly the detective had worked hard to cultivate a thuggish appearance. I could understand how the headmaster would underestimate him even if the man weren’t a werewolf. Still, beneath the loose cut of the jacket I noticed muscle and definition. Not a handsome man, but the detective defined masculinity from his black hair to his scuffed boots.

  God, I hoped he sucked at his job.

  He gestured for me to take a seat and I did so with as much poise as I could muster. Not much, as it turned out. I almost fell off the edge of the seat when I missed it by an inch.

  “Miss Alderidge, are you feeling all right?” His nostrils flared. “Your heart is nearly beating right out of your chest and I can sense your perspiration.”

  I tried not to tug at the white button-up shirt I wore beneath my school blazer. “I’m fine.”

  “And you’re the one who found the body?” he barked. When I stared at him, the werewolf chuckled. “I apologize for diving right in. You’re my last interview of the day. I’m Detective Douglas Wilson, by the way, lead investigator on this case.”

  I wanted to tell him it was nice to meet him but I couldn’t manage to force the words out. “How can I help you?” I asked instead.

  “I want you to take me through everything from last night. We’ve heard from some of the others about the game you were playing.” He glanced down to consult a piece of paper in front of him. “A game of Capture the Scroll? From what I understand, your reflexes were better than your peers expected them to be. That is the singular consistent statement to all their versions of events.”

  The rest of the blood drained from my head. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry to tell you they underestimate me in a number of ways. I’m not well liked.”

  “Why, Miss Alderidge?”

  I shrugged, uncomfortable with his attention. “I’m new. People who have already found their group of friends don’t usually take kindly to newcomers. Especially those who are half-human.” I tried not to stress the last word too much.

  Detective Wilson continued to stare at me with his shoulders tense and his face giving nothing away. “I find it a little hard to believe. Your entire incoming class is made up of new students who surely do not all know each other. Why should you be singled out?”

  I shrugged again. Calm those shoulders! “Your guess is as good as mine,” I told him.

  He wouldn’t even blink and a wave of terror crashed down on me. Was Detective Wilson able to smell me even under the effects of the potion? I had no way of knowing. The room was suddenly too small, too hot, the walls closing in around us.

  “Why don’t you tell me everything. Take me through the evening as you remember it.” He grabbed a pen from his jacket pocket, setting the tip against a fresh sheet of paper. “Spare no detail.”

  I walked him through my memories of last night, answering whatever questions he had no matter how strange they seemed. The clock ticked on and I noticed thirty minutes had passed. I’d missed the rest of my class.

  He kept me longer than he’d kept the others.

  “I think we’re done for the day,” Wilson stated finally, leaning back in the chair after another ten minutes of questioning.

  “Okay. Thank you?”

  Was it the appropriate thing to say in this kind of situation?

  “If you remember anything else…call me immediately.” He slapped his business card down between us before standing. Cracking his neck with a single twist of his head. “You’re free to go. For now.”

  16

  I lived on a diet of nerves and chewed fingernails, waiting for the first elimination of the semester to arrive.

  A month of classes at the Halflings Academy passed alarmingly fast, bringing us closer to the elimination where the school culled the weak links, and I prayed I wasn’t one of them. The first year, as I found out, focused mostly on book work and history until fall break would bring the first cull, followed by a shift in emphasis to spell work and magic.

  Magic… The thought excited me.

  Unfortunately, I’d never been good at book work. I had a terrible memory and a bad track record with taking tests. Uncle Will had lamented my unfortunate memory many evenings during my internship with his firm, where most of his coworkers had taken to leaving sticky notes of reminders for me to find. Everywhere.

  I’d once found a note on the inside of the women’s bathroom stall reminding me to order ink for the office printer.

  If I couldn’t remember to order ink then how could I be expected to pass a test on Faerie history and lore? It was all new to me.

  Notes wouldn’t help me here. I spent every waking moment of those first four weeks studying, deep in the books and doing my best to memorize everything, and maintaining a constant low level of anxiety. At least my hair wasn’t falling out. Yet.

  Fall break would be the first real test to see if I belonged, I thought, biting my nails yet again, surrounded by books.

  If I failed now, I had nowhere to go. Nowhere else to turn. So far, luck had been on my side. I hadn’t sensed an inkling of Kendrick Grimaldi or any other member of either pack. There were no more killings, and though Persephone remained an annoyance I found if I stuck to the library when I studied, I rarely saw her.

  It became my personal sanctuary.

  I also hadn’t heard from Detective Wilson since my interview, nor seen him sniffing around the castle. His business card burned a hole in my pocket all the way back to the dorm and I ended up sticking it into the box with the rest of my potions. It sat there, a reminder, when I opened the lid every thirteen days.

  Talk about the dead student in the tree eventually died down and became old news, Loudon’s identity known but the murder unsolved. The police hadn’t found a shred of evidence leading to a culprit. Soon the speculations were only a low simmer as the rest of my class stuck their noses to the books and got down to work.

  We all wanted a place here.

  Everyone felt the same kind of pressure I did, the pressure to make the cut and move on to our secon
d semester. Outside, the trees began to change color from emerald green—the same color as Mike’s eyes—to dappled shades of red and orange and yellow with the approaching autumn.

  Then we were two weeks into October.

  The only real problem I’d run into was the food. The damn food—I’d found out the hard way—I couldn’t eat because the academy chef loved garlic the way some people loved chocolate, and the more time passed the more garlic he added to every single dish. I ended up having a salad and fruit most days because I couldn’t take the chance anything else contained his precious garlic.

  The big day arrived, and I spent more time than I wanted hyperventilating in a panic. I muttered a curse, struggling to take deep breaths thanks to our laundry service overly starching academy uniforms, the seams and creases too crisp to make for easy movement. The fabric scratched at me. Everywhere.

  “Don’t be nervous,” Melia soothed, walking beside me on the way to the auditorium where first-years would be tested.

  “How can I not be nervous?” I asked breathlessly. “This is the make or break moment. I’m going to pass out. I can’t breathe.”

  She blew a raspberry designed to lighten the mood. “You don’t have to think about it in those terms. This isn’t your make or break moment.”

  “Don’t I?” I said with a fake laugh, attempting to moisten my dry mouth. “You’re safe. You’re already almost out of here and on your way toward earning a spot in Faerie.”

  “But I remember being in your position,” she replied. “I remember being so crazy out of my mind, I wanted to rip my hair out. In fact, I did. I ended up with a tiny nickel-sized bald spot above my right ear. And you know what?”

  “What?”

  “It didn’t help me pass my exams. It took forever for the hair to grow back and I had myself going crazy for no reason.” Melia stopped and grabbed me by the shoulders to make her point. “Just concentrate on you. Forget everyone else, forget about the competition aspect of the process. That’s what the professors want you to focus on. They want you worried about everyone else so they have you stressing and they can weed out the weak. Focus on you and your literature because it’s the only way to get through it. Keep your mind sharp and your wits about you.”