“Juno?” she asked blandly. Juno had made her choice and her cockiness had gotten her killed.
“I want you to finish what she started,” he told her. “I’ll see you tonight at six. I’ll text you the place. And bring your coven.”
The line went dead and she rolled her eyes. “Drama much?” She blew out a breath. She was not doing this and not because she was a coward. Selene merely had no interest in the kind of politics that would get her and her coven killed.
“Juno said he’d come after us,” Rebecca said from the doorway.
“Call housekeeping, I have an appointment. I’ll be back when it’s over.” She grabbed her tablet from her desk and headed for the elevator. She wasn’t going to go quietly even if it meant temporarily joining forces with good to get rid of Necron and Voltaire.
Choice.
No one took the important choices about her life from her hands.
****
Her phone rang and she reached for it as she gave her perfectly made-up face another look. “Hello?” Grace hadn’t been expecting a call since everyone who mattered knew she worked mornings and would be leaving soon.
“Grace, Juno is dead.”
Grace frowned thinking of her fallen coven sister. She’d warned her not to get involved in this mess. Dark Hollow had pulled off one of the most skillful deceptions she’d ever seen. They were dangerous to anyone not part of their circle, and she believed that not even those in that circle were safe if they outlived their usefulness.
“When?”
“Last night,” her lover told her quietly. “It looks like an aurai killed her. Lightning.”
The aurai were believed dead or on the verge of extinction, but she, like her coven leader, had never accepted that. She’d never faced one, but her great-grandmother had died at the hands of one.
She had no desire for vengeance. That had been the business of war.
“Why?” she asked. But she could guess. Necron had sent her after the possessor of a wind stone.
“We’re not sure, but she failed in her mission to retrieve the possessor of the stone.”
“What is he up to?”
“I don’t think he really cares about using the stone,” he confessed. “I think this is merely about making sure the aurai are crippled. But the truth is I’m not privy to their plans. All I know is Kryto is enemy number one, and they want to be able to defeat him.”
She swallowed tightly. They could get the girl for him. She wasn’t part of the coven’s company structure, but she was trained like everyone else.
Partially deaf in one ear, she wore a tiny hearing aid in her right ear. She’d only wanted to teach from an early age. Educating children brought her joy that being part of Dark Crystal could taint for the first time.
“You might want to consider leaving,” he said.
“Leaving? Go where without you?”
“He’s called a gathering of all dark breeds. Those that don’t comply will be executed, no exceptions.”
Chapter Seven
Tylor ignored the assistant headmaster as he called after her. She was already slightly perturbed having been up so early to finish up some work from last night. She had the fingerprints of the shadow she’d killed, along with her name.
She knew she’d have to contact the other aurai in the tri-city area and put them on alert, but in the here and now, she didn’t think too highly of Branson Wells. He wanted her job, and he also wanted Camille gone.
Branson was older than Camille at thirty-six, but didn’t have her level of experience. On top of that, he didn’t read Braille as she did.
“Miss Storme,” he said, raising his voice and this time he was right behind her.
She whirled to face him in the corridor of the administrative offices and he almost ran into her. He blinked, looking a little disconcerted, but recovered quickly.
She knew he called her Miss to denote what he thought was her inferior age and professional rank. He had no idea she’d logged more hours teaching school and was published in professional journals unlike him.
On top of that, she was also his senior by almost four hundred years.
“I’ll thank you to rein in your condescending attitude, Mr. Wells.” If he couldn’t pull it together, she’d make sure his position was empty next term as well.
He bristled at her as he looked down his long narrow nose into her eyes, and she took a step closer to him watching him coldly stand his ground.
“I’m not one of the secretaries,” he said snidely, his signing getting faster. “And I’m about tired of you treating me as if I were a junior member of this team.”
“That’s exactly what you are,” she told him icily as she signed. “If you have a problem with my support of Miss Bay, that’s too bad. As for my decision not to end the debate team, get over it. Our kids deserve a chance to compete in intellectual competitions as well as hearing ones.”
“They aren’t ready.” He signed.
“No,” she said softly as she brought her fingers together in a sharp sign for no. “You aren’t ready.”
“They were humiliated at the first debate two nights ago. Cummings isn’t doing his job.” He signed.
“I agree. That’s why I’m pulling him as the academic advisor. You should take over. You do teach senior speech. Handling this team wouldn’t be a stretch for you. In fact, it would show the students that one of their own had faith in them.” She wasn’t deaf, but she could sign and kept her hand movements at a steady pace, though not a fast one.
Cummings was hearing while Wells was partially deaf.
He shook his head and glared at her for a moment. “They can’t all read lips.”
“So what?” she demanded. “Does that make them less capable of competing? Someone can be provided to sign the questions as well as translate their responses.”
He looked away. She knew he was one of those people who wasn’t comfortable with his impairment. He’d rather hide the deaf and blind away.
She wanted her students to be capable of competing, of making a positive impact, rather than being seen as disabled burdens on society. This school had been founded on the principles of the belief that these kids deserved a chance, too.
“Fine,” she said. “Maybe I’ll co-advise them with Miss Bay.”
His eyes flashed with anger. “I’ll do it,” he muttered. “That woman has no business around students, exerting her negative influence.” His gaze slithered to their right and the glass wall providing a view out to the quad where students were gathered enjoying the sunshine and socializing before class.
Camille was going past and into a stairwell with a student on her heels.
Damn it. She clenched her fists. The woman just didn’t listen.
“It’s obvious the board’s reprimand meant nothing to her.” He gave Tylor a hard look before stalking to his office.
Tylor sighed, shaking her head and went after Camille. When she got to Camille’s room, Caroline was coming out wearing a smile.
“Good morning, Headmistress,” Caroline said as she signed.
The girl was still learning to sign, having only been deaf a year. Tylor gave her a smile.
“Good morning, Caroline,” she said as she signed. “I’d like to see you in my office later.”
The girl’s expression became stricken. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, honey,” she said, signing. “I need to talk to you about something.”
Caroline gave her a skeptical look. “I didn’t mean to get Ms. Bay in trouble.” She signed. “My parents don’t understand.”
“I know,” Tylor said signing as she spoke. “That’s why you have to stick to the rules. You aren’t to be alone with Ms. Bay.”
The girl swallowed tightly, anger burning in her eyes. “The note wasn’t for her,” Caroline told her in a desperate tone.
Caroline had received a rather racy note which had been found by Caroline’s brother and brought to her parents’ attention. That’s how this entire si
tuation had spiraled out of control.
“I believe you,” Tylor told her. “But the rules are for your protection as well as Ms. Bay’s.”
She shook her head, tension in her face. “I can’t pretend I don’t like Cam just because they don’t want me to. They’re going to tell the PTA Ms. Bay is a perv, and my Mom wants to tell my gym class I’m gay to shame me.”
That would cost the girl the few friends she’d made, not to mention make her full transition from the hearing world to the deaf one even more difficult. Camille was a big girl, she could handle this situation, but the PTA would cause a media storm to rain down on her, ending her career or putting it and the school under a microscope.
“I’ll talk to your mother again,” Tylor promised. “But I need you to do as I ask and not be alone with Ms. Bay again, okay?”
Caroline nodded. “I promise,” she said and signed.
“If you need to speak to her, come to my office or ask the counselor to have Ms. Bay come to your session.”
“I will, thanks,” Caroline said with a nod.
“How is your signing coming? Are you still having trouble keeping up in your classes?” Tylor asked. Some of the teachers were deaf and others were blind which made learning in a school environment more difficult than home study where she’d get one-on-one attention.
“Ms. Bay was working with me, but now—” She shrugged.
“I’ll arrange some afterschool tutoring. Maybe Miss Ross could help?”
Caroline beamed. “That might be helpful.”
Giving the two girls some time together might not be a good idea, but Caroline’s parents couldn’t prevent the girl’s sexuality from being what it was. Besides that, the staff couldn’t watch the girls all the time or prevent them from being together in their free time.
Tylor gave her a smile. “If we’re clear, there’s no need to meet later.”
“We’re clear,” Caroline told her with a nod.
“I’ll talk to Miss Ross and find out if she can tutor you during study hall twice a week.”
“Thanks.” She grinned and backed away.
Tylor smiled and stepped into Camille’s classroom, wishing things were that easy for her and this Camille. She only had five minutes before students began making their way up.
“Good morning, Camille,” she said coolly as she strode across the room to stand next to Camille at her desk. “I told you not to be alone with Caroline.”
Camille gave her a put-upon sigh. “The door was open and besides, she only wanted to apologize.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she faced Tylor fully.
“Maybe if I bent you over your desk and spanked your fine little ass you’d get the point loud and clear,” Tylor said in a hard tone. Camille’s eyes flashed with fire. “And I will the next time she’s in here alone with you, Camille.”
“Ty—”
“This isn’t just your career at stake,” Tylor cut in. Her voice was soft and low, but her eyes held an edge of steel that Camille bristled at. “It could be your freedom, so act like it means something to you.”
“I know that,” she snapped. “I’ll be under constant scrutiny no matter what.”
“You’re the hot topic of the moment, but you have to follow the rules, baby,” she murmured as she curled her fingers around Camille’s chin.
“Okay.” Her tone held resignation as she put her hand on Tylor’s to caress her arm.
Tylor wished she’d taken off her suit jacket now so Camille’s fingers were on her skin.
“I wish I could feel how soft your skin is,” she said, as if reading Tylor’s mind.
Tylor tilted Camille’s head up slightly. “Later,” she murmured and claimed Camille’s lips.
The contact sent a jolt of electricity through Tylor that set her nerve endings on fire. The kiss was hard and brief, but stirred her blood and made her dizzy.
The sexual tension between them had been simmering since the day they met, and last night it had exploded, leaving them nowhere to go but forward.
Tylor withdrew her fingers and stared into Camille’s face. Her lashes slowly fluttered up and the heat that swirled in her green eyes almost melted Tylor’s clothes.
“I can’t wait.” Camille smiled and the lights flashed in the classroom signaling the first bell. That was followed by a loud ring. “Why don’t we have lunch together?”
Camille stroked her arm and Tylor savored the warmth of her touch. She couldn’t wait to get her alone in the privacy of her home or Camille’s. Tylor didn’t merely want to have sex with her, she wanted to share her life with her.
“I can’t.” Tylor said and Camille tucked her hands behind her back when Tylor wanted them on her. It was going to be nice to have someone to love and to love her back. “I have a meeting, but I’ll come to your place about seven tonight.”
“Okay.” Camille nodded. “I saw the news this morning.”
“You shouldn’t watch that,” Tylor told her, wrinkling her nose.
“You killed her?”
“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. “That was the only way to handle it. I have to go, we can talk about this later.”
“We will,” she said. “You—your magick—”
“I’ll pick up something special for dessert,” Tylor cut her off evenly. Tylor knew there would be questions and she was prepared to answer them in private where there was no danger of them being overheard.
“I hope it’s you,” Camille said, letting her gaze slide down Tylor’s body.
Tylor chuckled as she backed away. “Later, baby.”
Chapter Eight
Trent waited until he saw the headmistress leave to head down the hall to Camille’s office. He knew he’d upset her yesterday, but he didn’t see any reason not to attempt to smooth things over and ask her out.
She was an attractive woman and appealed to him on so many levels. Not making a play for her would be crazy.
He peeked inside to find Camille standing at her desk, hand pressed against her stomach. She was wearing a skirt, the fabric falling to swirl around her knees as it skimmed over her firm little ass.
He wanted to squeeze and knead it and pull the dainty little pink blouse she wore with it from the skirt and rip it open. He knew her breasts would be a feast for his eyes and firm mounds for his hands.
“Good morning, Camille,” he said making his voice as congenial as possible. Her head turned slowly and he held up a hand as her gaze chilled on him. “I want to apologize for being an ass yesterday.”
She shrugged. Her expression was too guarded to tell him what she was really thinking.
“Okay.”
“I really mean it,” he said contritely as he advanced. “I was—I like you, but yesterday I only wanted to comfort you, but my mode sucked.”
“It did,” she agreed. “But forget about it.”
She was pretty with light pink cheeks and pale pink lips that glistened in the light. Her hair was up in a playful sweep that drew his eye to the graceful curve of her neck.
He gave her a smile. “Perhaps you’ll join me for lunch in the teacher’s lounge sometime.”
Her smile took a long time coming and when it appeared it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Class will start soon,” Camille replied.
“Right,” he said and smiled again, but anger tightened his gut. Who in the hell did she think she was? She wasn’t nearly too good for him. He gave her a nod and hurried out.
****
Camille took her lunch at her desk that afternoon, so she could finish grading a few papers to hand out to her next class. The class was women’s studies with a focus on women in literature, past and present.
The program she’d been hired to teach was only two years old and aimed mostly at juniors and seniors, but the other two grades were allowed to take intro courses.
She took a bite of her apple slice and glanced to her tablet at the answer key for the test.
A knock at her closed door drew a
frown from her. “Come in.” She heard the wariness in her own voice and knew she was concerned that one of her fellow teachers had come to harass her though most had merely given her cool stares and polite greetings when she’d passed them in the office yesterday and this morning.
“Hi. Why are you hiding in here alone?” Grace gave her a smile as she strolled toward her.
“I’m not hiding,” Camille told her promptly.
Grace studied her and then shrugged. “Some teachers are talking, but people always gossip.”
“Always,” she agreed and turned a page over. Grace emitted a low-level hum that was slightly off-key which had given her pause when they’d first met. Camille guessed the other woman was a witch with leanings toward dark magick though not entrenched in it. That was the only reason she still had a superficial friendship with her.
“The headmistress was arguing with the assistant about you this morning,” Grace told her, giving her an arch look. “He wants you gone and her, too. He can’t understand why she was promoted over him when the last headmaster quit.”
“Tylor used to teach here?”
Grace shrugged. “She was an English and foreign language teacher here for eight years. She taught college for three years before that. So, she had what it takes to run the school. I hear she grew up in a deaf household.”
“Did she?” She knew only a handful of things about Tylor, the woman who’d become her lover in an unorthodox manner last night. She didn’t regret it, but if they were going to continue on this road she needed to know more about the dangerous witch who was stealing her heart.
“Umm-hmm.” Grace said. “She’s made some good choices. I mean you and I are two of only three teachers who are involved with the program. Tylor teaches the foreign language classes.”
“Wow.”
“She’s as secretive about her life, though, as you are,” Grace said. “No one knows if she has a man at home or if she’s got a girl tied to her bed.” She wiggled her brows. “Can you imagine Ms. Professional cracking a whip or breaking out handcuffs?” She giggled.
Camille grinned, the image reminding her of last night. “I don’t know.”
Heat in the Air Page 4