Threat (Academy of Unpredictable Magic Book 4)

by Sadie Moss

  Different professors handle it all differently. Tamlin’s clearly taking the “prepare my class for anything” route. Professor Goldstein, on the other hand, decides to take the “get everyone having fun to distract them” route.

  Which is why, on a Friday afternoon in the second half of the semester, I find myself dressed as David Bowie.

  Yeah, you heard me. I’m going full Ziggy Stardust on this, and considering that I’m a woman and look nothing at all like him, I think I manage to pull it off pretty well.

  Kendal’s in the same class as I am and dressed as Cher. Goldstein teaches History of Magic, and today we’re supposed to give presentations “in character” as magical people who’ve become famous in the human world.

  Generally, magic users are supposed to keep a low profile in society. Even people with magical training can sometimes lose control at a vital moment, or someone just might walk in at the wrong time and see us casting a spell or something.

  That hasn’t stopped magical people from becoming famous anyway.

  Not every powerful or gifted person throughout history has been magical. The further back in time you go, the harder it is to determine whether someone was magical or not, because records don’t exist like we have today. Apparently, there’s fierce debate in the historical magical community over whether or not certain people like Joan of Arc were actually magic users.

  Some students are really challenging themselves and are doing presentation on figures like Richard the Lionheart. But Kendal and I decided we were going to go with people we actually know for certain had or have magic.

  David Bowie was one of them. His final project for his magical academy was apparently a study on fairies, which makes his film Labyrinth make a lot more sense.

  Kendal is presenting as Cher, another magical person—an illusionist. Both of them used magic to make their performances on stage even more spectacular and to give their voices an edge, but it’s subtle enough that non-magical people haven’t noticed. Magical people who start to become famous in the human world come under intense scrutiny from the Circuit to make sure they’re not abusing their power or using it in ways that non-magical people would notice.

  In any case, Kendal’s gone all out just like I have, with a long black wig and makeup and a signature outfit. We’re laughing a little as we enter class because we look a bit ridiculous, but in the best kind of way.

  Everyone else is dressed up too, because Goldstein made “wardrobe accuracy” a heavily weighted part of our grade, and Kendal and I end up having a good time, laughing and trying to guess who’s dressed as whom. People have really put a lot of work into this, and as I listen to the laughter and chatter bounce around the room, I can’t help but think this is exactly why Goldstein insisted on the costumes.

  We all needed a little break from the anxiety and stress.

  When it’s our turn, Kendal and I get up together and head to the front of the class. Not all the presentations are being done in pairs, but our chosen subjects were contemporaries, although Bowie has since passed away, and it just made sense for Kendal and me to do ours together. Kendal gets stage fright pretty easily, no surprises there, so it helps her feel more comfortable too.

  My English accent is horrible, and the moment I start speaking, the class is stuffing their hands over their mouths to keep from laughing. I actually have a lot more fun with it than I’d thought. After we give our report to the class, I do the whole dance from Labyrinth with Kendal as my “bride”. And even though I’m 5’8”, she’s taller than I am right now in her super high Cher heels, so it’s even funnier.

  I pretend to try and dip her, and Kendal dramatically falls to the floor with a fake cry of exaggerated pain. Everyone laughs.

  Professor Goldstein loves over the top stuff like this, and the students who came before us weren’t quite as enthusiastic about their costumes and presentation, so I know for sure we’ll get an ‘A’.

  I high-five Kendal as we sit back down and listen to the rest of the class give their presentations. Ours was the funniest, for sure. I don’t think of myself as a comedian, but just having fun with the work can go a long way toward making other people have fun with it too.

  “We look ridiculous,” Kendal notes as class ends and we head out of the classroom. Other students are staring at us, knowing that we obviously did this for some class project, but not sure exactly what. “Oof. I can’t wait to change out of these heels.”

  “Hey, you were great. You really got into it.”

  “That’s because I had a partner. Thanks for going up with me.”

  “Yeah, sure. It was fun.” I elbow her gently and Kendal gives me a brilliant smile. I think this is the first time that I’ve seen her give a full-on smile, teeth showing and everything, and my heart warms for her. Maybe it’s the big sister instinct in me, even though we’re the same age, but I’m just so glad—more than I would’ve thought—to see Kendal coming out of her shell like this.

  I hold out my arm dramatically. “Shall we head back to the dorms, milady?” I say in my horrible attempt at a posh British accent.

  Kendal laughs and takes my arm. “I need your help balancing anyway!”

  We walk through the halls and bow and strike poses for our classmates as they stare at us, making people laugh. It feels good to bring people a little joy, even if it’s ridiculous joy, and even if it only lasts for a moment. If nothing else, it’s giving them something to talk about besides the towers and our impending doom.

  We’ve just turned the corner to exit through the main doors on the first floor of Wellwood Hall when we find that our way out is blocked.

  Kendal freezes, and I nearly trip when I try to keep moving forward and can’t because our arms are still linked.

  A group of official looking people in suits are entering the building. And they look like they mean business—bad business.

  My stomach tightens and twists, tensing up immediately. Are they from the Circuit? I scan the group, but I don’t see Aurora.

  Aurora’s the woman who came to our house when Maddy got her powers and visited me in the hospital after my Unpredictable magic sparked. I don’t exactly trust her, but I’d prefer a familiar face over these strangers. A member of the school’s administration department is trailing behind them, raising his hand and voicing some kind of protest.

  I can’t be sure, but this feels a lot like a hostile takeover.

  Kendal’s still taller than I am in her heels but she shrinks behind me. I can’t blame her. These guys do not look fun. Everyone’s scurrying out of the way, pressing themselves against the walls, staring wide-eyed and scared.

  And then I do see a familiar face.

  Honestly, though, I’d rather take Aurora. Because this face?

  This face is gonna get a punch in the mouth if he isn’t careful.

  He’s leading the group, because of course he is, and I gently detach myself from Kendal so I can plant myself right in front.

  That, finally, gets the group of whoever the hell these people are to stop.

  Everyone in the entry hall is staring, knowing a showdown of some kind is about to happen, but unsure as to what, or why.

  I raise my chin up and look the man before me dead in the eyes.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  Chapter 17

  The man in front of me is polished, wearing a sleek dark suit. Everything about him is meticulously groomed, from his dark brown hair to his cleanly shaven face to his perfectly straight tie. He looks like he stepped off the cover of a magazine. I can understand why Mom fell for him—he’s a good-looking bastard—but the way he looks right now throws me off. It reminds me of Dmitri’s father. They have that same calculating air about them.

  It makes my stomach twist.

  My father blinks at me in surprise, taking me in, and I realize I’m still in my fucking Bowie costume. What was fun a moment ago now feels humiliating and ridiculous, and I quickly yank off my wig, revealing my natural hair underneath.

&
nbsp; I think that helps him realize who I am, because I see his shoulders relax a little. He looks different from when I last saw him, and that was when I was ten years old, so I can’t imagine how much different I look to him. He left a small child behind, and now I’m a goddamn adult.

  It’s definitely him, though. There are too many features I remember, some of them ones I see when I look in the mirror every morning. I’ve always disliked that. Not that I was cursed in the gene pool because of him or anything, but I did not, of all things, need a daily reminder of the bastard who abandoned my mom, my sister, and me.

  Everyone’s staring—my dad’s colleagues, Kendal, random students in the hall. I’m angry, my hands are shaking a little, and I could punch him, but I’m also hugely embarrassed. We’re the center of attention, and now my family’s dirty laundry is out there for the world to see.

  I suppose it’s my fault. I could’ve just let him walk by and not said hello. I doubt he would’ve recognized me in my getup. But I’ve done it now and there’s no changing it.

  We stare at each other for an uncomfortably long time, until I remember that I should probably say something. I clear my throat. “What are you doing here?”

  Dad blinks and draws himself up. “I—Elliot, it’s so good to see you.”

  Now I’m the one blinking in surprise. Where is this warm tone coming from?

  “I had no idea.” Dad gives me a smile that actually looks sincere. “I work for a private consulting firm that liaises with the Circuit on the oversight of unregulated magic. We’re here to confirm whether the Unpredictables are building a weapon or some other dangerous object.”

  My nerves jangle. Given that I’m here, I think it’s pretty obvious that the daughter it’s “so good to see” is also Unpredictable. Unless he’s just dumb enough he hasn’t realized that.

  Dad’s a lot of things, but I don’t remember him being an idiot.

  “Honestly, this is such a lucky day.” He puts his hands on my arms and I have to suppress an instinctive flinch. Not that Dad ever hit us or anything, but I’m not big on random people touching me and this man might as well be a random person for all he’s been in my life. I don’t know what to do with this unexpected display of warmth.

  “I’m so glad we ran into each other. Once this meeting is over, would you be able to speak with me? I’ve missed you and Maddy terribly.”

  Didn’t miss us enough to come and help out after Mom died, I want to say, but I keep my mouth shut. I’m not going to have a family blowup in front of all of my classmates and my dad’s stuck-up colleagues.

  “What meeting are you going to?” I ask instead.

  “Oh, I just have to speak with the dean briefly, don’t trouble yourself about it.” Dad smiles. “But you’ll wait, won’t you? It’ll be so good to catch up, I want to hear about everything.”

  Well, see, first I grew up without you, and then I had to raise my sister all by myself, barely scraping by to make rent…

  I have no idea what to actually say, though. Everything I think of turns into an argument. The last thing I want to do is talk with him, but if I say no, he’ll want to know why… and we’ll land back in an argument again.

  To my own frustration, I find myself nodding.

  “Wonderful.” Dad squeezes my shoulders and then lets go of me. “We can meet on one of the benches outside, the one right by the door?”

  I nod again, and then he’s sweeping past me like a king on his way to his next audience, knowing that everyone’s just hanging around waiting on him. His colleagues follow, and before I know it, I’m left standing alone in the middle of the hallway.

  Another hand lands on my arm and I jump in surprise, turning to see Kendal there.

  Oh, right. Jesus. I completely forgot she was here.

  “Hey.” She gives a tentative smile. “You okay?”

  I nod and swallow. My throat feels like sandpaper. “Yeah, thanks.”

  “Do you want me to wait with you?”

  “No.” I twist the Bowie wig up between my hands. “Thanks. I’ll just… I’m fine.”

  Kendal bites her lip like she wants to argue. But then she nods. She gives my arm a gentle squeeze before she turns and walks away, wobbling a little in her platform heels. I move slowly, shoving open the heavy entry door and walking down the steps. I sit on the bench, feeling useless and confused, my stomach in knots. I could’ve let her wait with me, and I appreciate that she offered to stay, but I want privacy for this.

  Oddly enough, of all the things my dad could ask about, I hope it’s not my love life. I’m not letting him anywhere near my guys.

  It takes about half an hour, and I’m just starting to wonder if I’m the idiot who’s been stood up by her absentee father, when he reappears.

  Fuck. Here goes nothing.

  Dad sits down next to me. “Elliot.” He says my name like it’s something magical, and he’s looking at me like I’m the eighth wonder of the world. “You look beautiful. So grown up.”

  Yeah, that kind of happens when time passes.

  “Is this your first year?” he asks. “Your second? Third? I thought you didn’t have magic; this is amazing. And where’s Maddy? Is she all right?”

  “She’s fine.” My throat is so tight it’s hard to speak. “She’s at her own school.”

  “Oh? What kind of magic does she have?”

  Jesus. You could just call and ask her, I think. Instead I answer politely. The whole conversation, I force myself to be polite. Dad’s warm, funny, charming, asking a ton of interested questions and praising me—for my grades, for my magic, for my hard work, for my care of Maddy. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was all genuine.

  But I do know better.

  Dad’s always been like this. Mom would tell so many stories when we were little, about how Dad knew everyone in the city, how he would get them into bars and exclusive events for free, how he was the life of every party. He knows just how to make people think he cares, in the moment at least.

  But if he really cared, he would’ve been there. He wouldn’t have left. He would’ve taken care of Maddy and me after Mom died. He would have at least sent a check so we were looked after financially. Hell, I know he can afford it. This whole caring routine is a fake out, and I’m screaming inside, so angry I want to punch his stupid face over and over and over—

  I can’t, though.

  Dad’s powerful, and he knows tons of people. Mom always warned us about that. I asked her once why she didn’t put up more of a fuss when Dad left, why she didn’t fight him on it or go after him for child support, and she said that it was a battle she’d always lose. Dad had more people on his side, more powerful allies in the Circuit and in magical society.

  Unpredictables—including me—are on thin enough ground already. I’m not going to make things harder for myself or Maddy because I gave in to a moment of anger, justified as that anger might be.

  I find myself replying to his questions, nodding along, laughing stiffly at his well-timed jokes. I feel numb all over, and sick, and too hot, and cold, and angry, and a little hysterical, all at the same time.

  Is this what shock feels like?

  “You know, I was so hesitant to take this assignment.” Dad gives a long sigh, like he’s overworked and reluctant but taking one for the team. Then he smiles at me. “But I’m so glad I did, because now I get to see you.”

  It’s like the last thirteen years don’t even exist to him. Like what he did to us was just no big deal, like it can all be swept under the rug with some smooth words and a twenty-minute conversation.

  It’s worse than if he was actually honest about how he fucked up and tried to apologize, or openly acknowledged it and insisted that he didn’t regret a thing. My God, at least own your fucking decisions, you know? Don’t just act like you can’t even remember what you did.

  Dad gives me a hug, and I try not to squirm away from it.

  “I have to rejoin my colleagues so we can start doing work on our ov
ersight,” he tells me. “But it was so good to see you, Elliot.”

  The moment he leaves, I practically storm back to my dorm. My stomach is in such knots that I almost throw up.

  My dad is here. My dad is here to investigate Unpredictables.

  And today started out so damn well.

  Chapter 18

  The dorm is empty when I step inside. The guys are probably out working on their final projects—they’re always in the library or class these days with their senior workload. It hardly matters on some level, with all the insanity going on, but they’re determined to get their degrees one way or another, and I admire that determination.

  I’m also kind of glad because it means that right now, I’m alone. And as much as I love my guys… I kind of need that at the moment. Just for a little while.

  My makeup and costume are clinging to me, the fabric suddenly feeling too tight and scratchy against my skin, so I rip off my clothes and hop in the shower. I turn the water on as hot as I can stand it, scrubbing and scrubbing, losing myself in the warmth of it. Washing off the dirt and sweat and makeup feels almost like washing off the conversation with my dad—at least, on the outside. He’s so clean-cut and charming and put together, but there’s something slimy about him, and I can feel his hug like an imprint on my skin. I have to scrub hard to make that icky feeling go away.

  Even as I start to feel better outside, though, I feel shittier and shittier inside.

  Goddammit.

  Why didn’t I stand up to my dad? Why didn’t I demand to know more about his plans for Unpredictables and this school? Why did I just sit there giving him all this information about me, information he doesn’t deserve to have, playing along like nothing was wrong?

  My breathing is tight and shallow in my chest as I get out and wring the water from my hair. I wrap a towel around myself, feeling too small, my skin constricting, vulnerable and exposed.

  I step out of the bathroom—and jump in surprise, clutching at the towel and my chest.

  “Jesus Christ!” I yelp. “You guys scared me.”