by Elena Lawson
So, when Bianca was oddly quiet the following morning, which was super out of character for her, I couldn’t help thinking she somehow knew where I’d been. Like she could somehow feel I wasn’t being honest. It was driving me insane.
She kept glancing up at me through the mirror on her vanity, her eyes narrowed, a thoughtful, if not slightly confused, look on her otherwise serene face. I thought maybe she was waiting for me to say something. To start a conversation. But she would be waiting a very long time for that. I was afraid to open my mouth for fear all of my secrets would come pouring out and I wouldn’t be fast enough to shove them all back in.
I hadn’t had time to brush my hair when I returned from the showers the night before, the lights blinked out not more than a few seconds after I’d re-entered the room. At least the dark and the late hour gave me an excuse to not have to hold a conversation with Bianca, but it had made getting into my pajamas and into bed super difficult. I’d stubbed my toe twice before I finally found safety beneath the covers.
After sleeping with damp hair washed with crummy shampoo and watery conditioner, brushing it was a nightmare and took nearly twenty minutes. Finally, I managed to get it to an acceptable level of neatness and pulled my headband into place. Then wondered when I’d stop having to regret cutting bangs into my hair last year.
Bianca’s creepy rabbit stared at me from atop her pillow, its pinkish red eyes seeming to almost glow. Its little whiskers twitched.
“Does it always stare at people like that?”
“Maybe Blanche knows she’s rooming with a liar, too.”
And there it was.
“What are you—”
Bianca turned on her cushioned stool and glared at me. “You weren’t in the library last night. You lied.”
“How would—”
“Because I was in the library.”
I finished lacing my shoe, pulling the knot tight before I stood to square my shoulders at her. Scowling through the mad blush crawling up my neck. “So, what? Going to run and tell your uncle, then?”
She made an ugly snarling face that managed to somehow also be hurt before she threw down her wide toothed ivory comb. “Is that what you think?” she snapped, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like a curse word under her breath.
“It’s what everyone thinks! Always the same.” She grumbled to herself, gathering up a pink notebook and a fluffy white pen. “Headmaster Sterling this, Uncle Sterling that. It’s bullshit.”
And then she stormed out, leaving me standing there dumbfounded.
I groaned when the morning bell assaulted my ears and I remembered history was my first class of the morning.
8
Elias
“Professor Fitzgerald?”
I glanced up at the door to see Headmaster Sterling stepping inside. Normally, I didn’t stick around the classroom during my free second period, but I’d gotten sidetracked with a book I’d been studying. Harper’s… unique problem had me determined to solve it.
“Headmaster.” I stood, letting the book fall shut with a light thump. “What brings you down here?”
He didn’t answer immediately, instead circling around the room as if inspecting it. I watched him with a carefully neutral expression, restraining the urge to frown. This was the first time since I’d been hired that he’d come to my classroom; any other time, I would be called to his office if he had something to say.
Finally, he stopped in front of my desk, eyes landing on the book in front of me.
“I see you’re diving into Enduran history,” he said, tapping the edge of the cover. “Fascinating stuff, I presume?”
“History can be a fascinating subject, and our respective races intertwine a lot throughout. We covered the Vocari earlier this year.” I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to defend my syllabus. “Is there something I can help you with, sir?”
Chuckling, he waved his hand. “No, no, I was just passing by and thought I’d check in with a few people. Tell me, how’s your new student adjusting?”
Something in the casual tone of his voice was off, though I couldn’t put my finger on it. “Coming in at the middle of the school year, naturally she’s behind, but I don’t think it’ll take her long to find her way.”
“Any disruptions I need to be aware of?”
Disruptions? The only thing Harper had disrupted so far has been my concentration. Since the moment she’d crashed into me in the hallway, it’d been next to impossible to get her out of my head. Last night had only made things worse.
I lied when I told her I heard her on my way to dinner, it was more like a sharp tug in my gut from my living room. It dragged me toward her until I heard the struggle and rushed to defend her. Honestly, when I heard their growls, a small part of me died to think she might’ve gotten hurt, and while so near to me.
There was no explanation for the feeling that drew me to her. All I knew about her was her name and that she had traveled a lot. And yet…
I swallowed past a hard lump in my throat, schooling my face into the mask of professional neutrality I’d come to use every day I walked these halls.
“You would be the first to know, sir,” I replied. “I won’t tolerate disruptions in my class, from anyone.”
Sterling watched me for a long moment, then huffed a laugh. “That’s what I like to hear, Fitzgerald. Keep up the good work, and keep an eye on her.”
I wanted to ask why, but the vibes he was throwing around this conversation were making me uneasy. The door clicked shut behind him and I leaned my head back against my chair, muscles drained of the tension I hadn’t realized I’d been holding onto.
The rest of the day rushed by, the majority of it spent wondering why Sterling’s interest in Harper unnerved me. It could be easily explained away as concern for the new student, sure, but whatever instinct pulled me toward her also told me it was more. What, I couldn’t possibly guess. Then again, it could’ve just been the same overprotectiveness that drove me to save her from her familiars.
With a heavy sigh, I locked up my classroom for the evening and headed toward the library. I rushed through and picked up a couple other books before dinner, after which the place would fill up with studying students. I slipped out the back, the closest exit to my cabin.
Research, though it usually wound up frustrating me to no end, was one of my favorite things to do. It was what drew me to history. Learning how things and people evolved over time fascinated me. Even so, I could’ve never guessed I’d be mixed up in a situation where my knowledge might prove useful outside of teaching. The notion stirred something inside me. An excitement I thought had long since been snuffed out.
I hoped I didn’t disappoint her.
Night had fallen when a tinny growl reverberated against my legs. I looked under the small kitchen table, where I’d set up to study, to find Fallon pressed against me. His teeth were bared, but there was nothing in the direction he was looking. Marking my place with a scrap piece of paper, I stood and peered out the nearest window.
“What is it, buddy?” I murmured. There was nothing but trees and shadows out there now, but he still paced around my feet anxiously.
I tapped my fingers on the windowsill, thinking. Despite his bright strands in his fur, Fallon could still be stealthy. They didn’t say sly as a fox for no reason. Before I could move to the door to let him out to investigate, a pair of glowing golden eyes met mine for just a second before disappearing again into the dark forest in the distance.
Fallon yipped at the wall as if he could see the wolf through it, and his show of bravery was so entirely at odds with his behavior around strangers that I would’ve laughed any other day. But it wasn’t possible at that moment. Realization made my knees weak and I sat heavily on the couch. They’d come back for her.
Which meant the bond that I’d still been unsure of had actually taken.
With Endurans.
There was no other reason they’d come back.
Da
mn.
This was bad. The Endurans were higher beings, capable of thinking for themselves. The familiar bond wasn’t meant for that. Would they kill her to sever it? Would they be able to or would the bond make it impossible to harm her?
I hated thinking the worst of them, but when it came to her, I wanted to be prepared for the worst possible outcome. The air in my chest went stagnant imagining how it would play out.
Even if it weren’t for the strange and...unethical connection I felt to Harper, she was just a girl. So young, with so much life left to live. She didn’t deserve that.
The decision took root before I could even complete the thought; I was going to protect her. Problem was, she didn’t seem the damsel type and I got the sense she may not want my help. When I’d saved her the night before, she hadn’t seen me coming and didn’t have time to refuse. She might’ve gotten by without my help, but she seemed oddly ignorant of our world for an alchemist her age—or at least she was naive to the dangers.
Fallon jumped up on the couch and nosed his way under my arm. “We’ve really got our work cut out for us, don’t we, Fal?”
9
Harper
It wasn’t fair, I mused, pursing my lips from my seat at the back of the classroom. Having to watch him from his untouchable spot at the blackboard.
The sun decided to show up to work today, heating the academy through the many tall windows, creating a sort of greenhouse effect that left the air hazy and just a bit too warm for comfort. I was sure there was a spell, or sigil, or some sort of incantation they generally used to cool it. Some sort of witchy air conditioning.
But I was glad whoever was in charge of doing that hadn’t gotten around to it yet. Elias—er—Mr. Fitzgerald had removed his suit jacket, and I couldn’t help but notice the top button of his crisp white dress shirt was undone, showing off smooth tanned skin at the shallow dip of his collarbone. He didn’t look to be sweating at all. Which was so unfair.
Even though I’d put on the weird kilt-like skirt that morning and had opted for a short sleeve blouse, I was still sweating.
I brushed the hair from my neck, trying and failing to stare at what he was writing on the board instead of at him.
The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, settling in the crease there. His biceps—I didn’t think I’d paid enough attention to them before.
What a mistake that was.
The thin white cotton material was stretched taut against the bulge of his arms, making him look more like a bodybuilder than a teacher.
I licked my lips, suddenly wishing I’d stopped for a glass of water before class. One of these days I’d wake up in time for breakfast.
My mouth was so dry.
It’s so damned hot in here.
“Harper?” Elias said, pointing at something he’d written on the board. And I got the feeling it wasn’t the first time he’d said my name.
“Sorry I… I didn’t hear you. What was the question?”
The trio of girls sitting two rows up giggled. The one with the pin-straight yellow hair turned in her seat to raise an eyebrow at me, snorting.
Bitches.
Elias cut the three girls a warning look, and they immediately faced front, their fingers clasped elegantly on the wooden surfaces of their desks.
So, I wasn’t the only one to have a crush on Elias Fitzgerald then.
Quickly, I skimmed what was written on the board in Elias’ neat handwriting.
My jaw clamped shut at what I found, my toes curling in. Maybe it was because of what happened the night before, and maybe it wasn’t. But I was sure Elias sensed I didn’t know much about shifters, especially since I hadn’t even picked up on what they were before he told me.
Either way, it seemed today’s lesson would be about the Enduran race.
“What can you tell me about the Enduran race prior to the curse that made Emeris uninhabitable?”
Several sets of eyes in the classroom turned, awaiting my response. Waiting for me to mess up or say the wrong thing. And I wouldn’t disappoint them.
Living among gypsy-like vagabonds and humans my entire life made my knowledge in the subjects of ancient immortal history and things like alchemical science almost nil.
What do you know? I asked myself, flailing around in my mind for some semblance of an acceptable response.
I knew that, before the curse infected the land of Emeris and the people on it, vampires were just Vocari—a race of people who could compel the thoughts and actions of others through speech. And shifters were known as Endurans, a warrior race blessed with uncommon strength and speed. But I didn’t really know much else.
“Well, they were one of the three races on Emeris before the curse made the immortal land uninhabitable. They were strong and fast, but they weren’t ruled by the moon, and they weren’t yet able to shift.”
Elias nodded, his deep blue eyes showing approval. “Very good, thank you.”
He turned to the rest of the class. “And what can the rest of you tell me about how the Enduran race has changed since then?”
The yellow-haired girl piped up, raising her hand, but not waiting for permission to speak. “They’re more impulsive,” she offered, a note of distaste in her nasally voice. “They’re known to be a small-minded sort of people. Unable to control their urges to shift in the presence of a full moon.”
“In your opinion, Kendra, they’re a lesser species,” Elias responded. Not so much a question as it was a statement.
The guy sitting in front of Kendra leaned back in his chair. “The curse made the Endurans slaves to the moon, and made the Vocari unable to walk in sunlight,” he said, turning to wink at Kendra. “It made them into beasts—monsters. They’re more like animals than people.”
Elias looked disappointed, and I wondered if he was thinking the same thing I was. Neither of the other students had acknowledged the role the alchemist race—our race—had played in making them the way they are today.
If it weren’t for what our ancestors did, the other two races of Emeris wouldn’t be cursed.
There wouldn’t be this animosity between races.
Who knew where we’d be then? Maybe we’d all still be back on Emeris. The land might not have fallen into plague and darkness. Maybe when the Vocari took back the throne all those years ago, they’d have ruled peacefully.
Perhaps our races would’ve someday found a way to put aside our differences. To live and work together toward a better future.
But we’d never know. Time-travel was the most forbidden form of magic there was. And even the knowledge of it and how to do it was locked up in the original Codex. Lost, or maybe destroyed? I couldn’t remember. But I knew the Codex, and all the original alchemical texts it contained, were gone.
“Yeah,” the girl named Kendra said. “Everyone knows that.”
My brows raised, and a lick of disgust made me flinch. They were so naïve. So holier-than-thou and all that bullshit. If they took just one second to step down off their high horses, they’d see we were the ones who had behaved more like animals. Or at least, our ancestors sure as hell did.
There were many different beliefs among our kind. Some thought themselves better than the other races and looked down on them as though they were animals, or bugs to be squashed under polished leather boots. That same group also thought of humans in a similar light. It was why the Council had forbidden witches to take mortal lovers. Well, that and something else about impure bloodlines in the future of our kind.
There were others, too, who lived a magic-free life. A sort of penance for what our ancestors did.
The last sect was the most radical. All of them were of a resolute mind that all races should come out to humans. That we should make ourselves known to them and stop living a life in hiding among the shadows. They thought we should fully integrate with the humans and protect them from the other races.
In a way it did make sense. We could never go back to our immortal homeland.
It was dead and gone. And the only other land shrouded from view by humans was inhabited by Fae, and we weren’t welcome there either.
Our ancestors burnt all the damned bridges.
So, it was the mortal lands or bust.
Over the last near one thousand years we’d done our best to make a home for ourselves here, but that last sect of witches believed that a home could never be a home if you had to hide in it.
I didn’t really care either way. But if I was being honest, I didn’t really trust humans either.
As the rest of the class nodded or voiced their agreement with the yellow haired Kendra and the buff-looking jock dude, it was easy to guess which sect made up the majority of the academy. Not surprising.
Elitist pricks.
“I think it’s sort of beautiful,” Bianca said into the stagnant air, eliciting a few gasps from the other students and gaining herself the full attention of Mr. Fitzgerald.
She fidgeted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable under the scrutiny of the rest of the witches in attendance. “I mean,” she continued, floundering. “Wouldn’t it be cool to turn into a wolf?”
“No,” Kendra said, her top lip curling back over freshly whitened teeth. “Why would anyone want to turn into a stupid, flea covered dog? Gross.”
Bianca’s shoulders slumped, and even though she didn’t turn around, I saw the red stain of an embarrassed blush working its way up the back of her neck. I watched as she fisted her hands beneath her desk.
“Why don’t you tell us, Kendra?” I blurted. “Since the only bitch I see in here is you.”
The class collectively held its breath. Buff jock guy whistled low between his teeth, and Kendra looked near ready to implode as she rose from her desk and turned to face me, staring down at me with bared teeth. “You better watch yourself new girl—”
I was sure she was about to go off on some sort of tirade about how she was so important and how I was so, well… not. But she was saved from having to waste her precious time by the bell, and I was saved from having to listen to her crap.