The Hidden Court

by Vivienne Savage

  An additional waiver? Gabriel’s warning rang through my mind again. I signed the paper, but before I could pass it back, the door banged open to frame a huge blond dude large enough to bench a semitruck. The papers flew out of my hands and sailed around the room. Gabriel helped me collect them.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Blackwood, but I am in the middle of a meeting.”

  Blackwood. My dad’s last sentinel had been a Blackwood. But she’d died when I was a kid.

  “This isn’t fair,” he growled at Mrs. Hansford. “You’re going back on your word.”

  “And what word would that be?”

  “That she,” he said, jabbing a finger toward me, “would be assigned to my ward. Not to Monica.”

  Gabriel shifted uncomfortably but didn’t move from his spot against the wall. “Dude… arguing isn’t going to change it, man.”

  My gaze darted from the burly werewolf to Gabriel. “What’s—”

  Gabriel shook his head at me though, a silent warning to stay out of whatever was happening. This was between the three of them, and maybe later someone would fill me in on why the hell they were arguing over me.

  “It became necessary to alter the assignments, which have been approved by the provost herself. If you’d like to take the matter up, you may speak with her.”

  “But—”

  Mrs. Hansford clapped her hands, said “Zephyrim,” and a gust of wind blew him from the room. The door slammed shut behind him.

  Glued to her phone, Monica texted in a flurry. She hadn’t glanced up once. “Anyway, now that Dedrik is done whining like an annoying mongrel, can we finish this up? I have a manicure scheduled in my free hour.”

  Struck mute by the intensity of the slur, I stared at her. Of course, she’d only say it when a wolf wasn’t present. No one called werewolves mongrels to their face unless they wanted to eat their own teeth.

  After I pushed the papers back across the desk, Mrs. Hansford launched into a description of the course objectives, passed me a syllabus, and then lost interest in me entirely. She and Monica spoke for the remaining fifteen minutes of our appointment while Gabriel leaned his head against the wall and pretended to sleep. I watched a while, only to determine he wasn’t faking.

  “Great. Follow me now, both of you.” And just like that, Monica flounced out. Gabriel followed.

  I scurried out and caught up to the brooding raven. “You weren’t kidding,” I muttered.

  Ahead, Monica carried on, oblivious to my scowl.

  “I don’t joke about everything,” he whispered back. He walked with his hands in his pockets, a dour expression on his face. “At least you only have one year with her. I’m stuck until graduation.”

  “So how does this work? For your sanity, I hope you don’t have to follow her around all day. I mean, don’t you get to sleep?”

  “I don’t have to be near her unless she has a scheduled outing. I’ll head to bed in a little bit after she gives you whatever spiel she has in mind.”

  Monica took her sweet time, crossing campus until we reached the western courtyard. She shooed some freshmen off her preferred bench in the shade and took a seat, then spent another five minutes texting before finally looking up to acknowledge me.

  “This is a really great opportunity, don’t you think?” She smiled brightly and filled her voice with gushing warmth and excitement. I might have bought it if she’d started out that way, but she had already shown her true colors. “When I saw your name, I knew you had to be my little protégé. I’ll mold you into the best faerie godmother ever and your family will be super proud.”

  Uh-huh. Super proud. My dad could be a little ditzy sometimes, but I thought even he would roll his eyes. I forced a smile on my face. I’d prefer to be learning whatever Gabriel was supposed to be getting out of this, but it was out of my hands now. For the rest of my life, I’d be responsible for the success of another person.

  “So what about your charge? When do I get to see her?”

  “She’s not much. Her name is Sharon, and she’s a voice major at some crappy little junior college nearby. I have to get her a record deal by the end of the year to pass.”

  “How does that work?”

  Monica shrugged, disinterested. “Play the probability lines a little while the right people are around her, that’s all. You’ll learn about it in Divine Intervention class next year. It’s a sophomore course. Anyway, I don’t know why he has to come along with us.” She flicked a finger toward Gabriel. “Nothing ever happens in Chicago.”

  My voice was downright mediocre when compared to other fae, but I knew a terrific voice when I heard one after growing up listening to lovestruck ballads between my parents. “When do I get to meet her?”

  “You don’t. You get to watch. I have Sharon covered.”

  “Ooookay,” is what came out of my mouth, but in my head, I thought, Biiiiitch.

  “So I’ll give you a shout at the end of this week, and we’ll stop by her school on Friday. They have an assembly or something.” And just like that, she went back to her phone, and I was dismissed.

  Gabriel didn’t say goodbye. He fell back a step and meandered onto the path at a zombie shuffle before I could question him about Dedrik’s behavior. He had dark circles under his eyes, and I felt angry for him. My counselor and Monica had only talked down to him the entire time. Or ignored him altogether.

  And whether he was a faerie boy, magician, vampire, or shifter, no one deserved that kind of disrespect.

  Insomnia once again reared its ugly, annoying head and sent me exploring the school grounds at midnight. Dad claimed it was bred into my blood since his side of the family preferred to work their magic by night for their human charges.

  Out past the gym there was a small training course that never saw use after midnight since most of the after dark students preferred to lift weights in the gym. Dressed in black sweatpants and a gray tank, I ran through obstacles for half an hour. I swung across monkey bars, climbed a rope, and dashed across a field of rubber tires until my thighs screamed. Then I headed over to the mounted heavy bag and punished my knuckles more than anything. Despite the aches and pains, I took a moment of perverse, short-lived pleasure imagining the bag had Monica’s face painted on it.

  Sure, she was a snob, and I’d wanted to punch her at least once, but it would be a wasted effort after that. So my mental image shifted to an anonymous, faceless figure. Whoever had killed that black dog, whoever had made Liadan curl up in a tight ball—that was who deserved a real thrashing.

  It worked until my wrist sang out in protest. Swearing under my breath, I paused to massage the tender spot and yielded to the training bag’s superior strength. So much for that idea.

  “You’re not supposed to put your thumb inside your fist when you throw a punch. That’s how you break something.”

  I jumped and whirled around, recognizing Gabriel’s voice—and his cologne. Subtle but memorable with traces of musk and spice. My giddy, school-age crush on him made my palms sweat.

  “That’s how you see people punching in movies,” I blurted out.

  He snorted. “What the hell movies do you watch?”

  “I don’t know. Some of them…”

  He crossed his arms, tattoos visible again on the back of his arms. The sleeveless T-shirt he’d worn revealed the feathers were part of a larger tattoo reaching his back. I’d noticed some of the ravens had similar markings, and I’d thought it was part of their gift initially until Benjamin explained it was some mark of raven nobility. Only certain families did it.

  “You know, it took you about five minutes to run our obstacle course,” he said.

  “That’s not so bad, right? Besides, it’s only my second time.” I had the distinct impression he was having a laugh at my expense, despite his nonchalant mannerisms. “How fast do you run it?”

  “One minute forty-nine seconds.”

  “That’s not even funny. No way.”

  He chuckled at me and stepped up to
hold the heavy bag. “Uh, that’s kinda the point. You don’t score a pass unless you do it in under three. I mean, if we can’t run a harmless course, how the hell are we supposed to make it to our ward if they’re in a jam and there’s shit in the way? Granted, I could just fly over but…” He shrugged.

  “I guess I’ll just have to keep practicing then.” Five minutes had to be an exaggeration. It hadn’t felt like that long, and I wasn’t an out-of-shape slob or anything. “Does Monica make you keep your distance, then? I mean, whenever I see Simon and Sebastian—okay the two or three times I’ve seen them—they’ve always been together,” I babbled out.

  Gabriel stared at me. His expressive brows raised again. “Huh? Why would you? You know, I think Penelope holds a cardio/yoga class for y’all on Wednesday nights in the gym. Try a spinning class if you wanna get in shape or something. As for those two, they’re a special case.”

  “Yoga isn’t going to teach me to defend myself. And I’ve done spinning classes.”

  “Huh?” His smile faded a little. “That’s what I’m around for. You know. Someone messes with either of you, I fix the problem.”

  I frowned up at him. It wasn’t fair. The same supernatural machine that decided his people should be treated like crap had determined my entire future would be restricted to making magical outcomes for humans.

  “I don’t want to be defenseless. I don’t want to rely on someone else.”

  Gabriel’s expression changed, mild amusement dropping away in lieu of something I didn’t recognize.

  No. I did recognize it. Anger.

  Stepping around to the heavy bag, he beckoned me with a hand then held it in place. “C’mon,” he encouraged. I hit it, to little effect since my strike didn’t budge him or the bag at all. “You mind if I correct your stance some?”

  “Sure, if you’re feeling generous.”

  He stepped up to me and took ahold of my wrist. A surprisingly gentle touch readjusted my fingers, then he rotated my wrist and raised both of my fists to the boxer’s stance I’d tried to mimic from watching movies and UFC matches. He nudged my feet with his sneaker.

  “When you throw a punch, all of your power is supposed to come from the hips, but you’re just kind of hammering it with your hands.”

  I tried to follow his example then watched him move to the other side again.

  “Look, I’m not trying to put you out of a job or anything,” I said, feeling like I owed him an explanation. The next punch didn’t jar my wrist and shoulder, so I tried it again. That time, the bag gave, forcing Gabriel to shift with it. Slightly. “You might have heard this already, or maybe not, but my test? It sort of was a huge flop, and I ended up facing off against a hungry vamp. And I don’t have a sentinel yet, so…”

  He listened to me speak with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Technically I’m your sentinel until you finish the mentorship. Sophomores begin with their own, not that he or she is going to be as awesome as me. But yeah, I heard.”

  “I held my own.” Simon hadn’t stepped in to rescue me right away. In hindsight, after meeting them again in the cemetery, I realized I’d felt his presence when he and Sebastian arrived in the alley. They’d stood there for quite a moment watching me tussle with the vamp. “And I want to always be able to hold my own. You’re going to think it’s stupid, everyone else does, but I don’t want to be someone’s muse.”

  “I believe you.” He didn’t speak much, only releasing the bag when my arms grew too tired to continue and I needed a break. He prompted me to adjust my footing again and lead with my right fist instead of the left I favored. The result was the same, my sides ached from my waist to my shoulders and my arms burned.

  Not wanting to look like a wuss, I tried to play it off and stretch without wincing. I should have brought water. My mouth was dry enough to make the dew on the grass tempting.

  “So there you have it, my deep dark secret. I want to be a sentinel.”

  “Why? There’s nothing special about it. You just risk your life for shitheads who don’t give a damn or appreciate it.”

  “Because why should someone else decide who I get to be for my entire life?” I shot back. “Why should you have to risk your life for shitheads who don’t give a damn? I mean, if you could be anything you wanted to be, what would you choose?”

  He crouched by his bag and removed two bottles. He tossed one to me and opened the second for himself.

  I managed to catch the drink without fumbling and smiled. “Thanks. Come on. What would you choose?”

  “We don’t choose. As you can see, they have their mind made up about our roles here. My job is to lurk in the back so we’re not seen together.” He tried to smile, but bitterness seeped into his words. I felt for him and all his fellow students in the night class.

  “That doesn’t make it right,” I told him.

  “Right or wrong, it isn’t going to change. Mages get to advise senators and government leaders. I get to be a glorified bodyguard.” He shrugged and sat on the grass.

  “Dude, come on. You didn’t answer my question. I just told you something you could use to make fun of me for the entirety of your time here. Least you can do is offer the same.” The cool grass became a welcomed cushion, soft beneath my legs and hands. I took another drink and rotated my wrist a few times.

  Gabriel shook his head. “Like I said before, secrets have a price. Look, you’re not at all what I was expecting when we heard you were coming this year. You even seem like an okay faerie, but you’ll only be disappointed if you hang around on our training ground thinking they’ll let you change classes.”

  “Fine. Keep yours then.” A wave of nausea rolled through my stomach. “And who cares if they won’t let me change? Doesn’t stop me from learning stuff on my own. So unless you’re going to rat me out, I can come out here whenever I want. There’s no rule against it.”

  “I’m not going to rat you out.” He tossed his half-empty bottle up and down in one hand, sloshing the water noisily. “Unless you try to go to the cemetery again or something. I don’t want you to get hurt snooping around.”

  “Technically that’s not off limits either, once the police tape comes down. Besides, I already know what happened there. No need to go back.”

  Gabriel grimaced. “They took us there to sniff around as a class assignment. It makes sense that they would though. One day, we’ll be the ones investigating that kind of thing.” After he finished his water, he bounced up to his feet again and offered me a hand up. I took it, too stiff to rise on my own after my clumsy run through the training course and two-minute punching drill.

  “So you saw the grave then.”

  “Yeah.” He glanced away and cleared his throat, clearly avoiding eye contact.

  “Fine, I’ll drop the subject. Not like you’re going to share anything anyway. Will you answer something else for me?”

  “Depends.”

  “What was all that in Mrs. Hansford’s office? You know, with Dedrik Blackwood.”

  Gabriel grimaced. “You really don’t give up on things, do you?”

  “Nope. So, will you clue me in?”

  “Fine. He was pissed about Monica getting first dibs on keeping you for the semester. I guess there’s some kind of tradition and Provost Riordan should have asked him. He had all these plans of hanging around next year to be your sentinel, even though he’s in this year’s graduating class.”

  “Because our families worked together before?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Weird. He doesn’t even know me. How the hell does he know if we’d even get along.”

  He shrugged. “You’re not difficult to like, even if you do ask a lot of questions.”

  The compliment took me completely off guard. “So, does this mean you’ll have trouble with him?”

  “Nah, he knows I had no say in the matter. Monica gets to do whatever she wants because she’s boning Mrs. Hansford’s nephew.”

  “Ugh,” I groaned.

&nbs
p; “Pretty much.” He took a swig from his bottle then studied me. “If it makes you feel any better, she gets easy to ignore after a while. Monica, I mean.”

  “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind. Anyway, thanks for the water and the lesson. I’ll get out of your hair now.” No sense banging against a wall, and that’s what he was—a wall. A delicious, finely muscled wall… that was already taken by Miss Pink Booty Shorts. I reminded myself of that and tried to squash my flourishing crush.

  “Take it easy, newbie.”

  Everything ached, but pride wouldn’t allow me to show it. I kept my back straight and my chin raised before marching away.

  “Hey,” he called. “Hey. Are you serious about learning to fight?”

  I paused to glance back at him. “Yeah, I am. Like I said, it’s no offense against you, but I don’t want to rely on someone else to save my ass if it’s needed. I’d rather know how to take care of myself and help others.”

  “Come back tomorrow night at the same time, and I’ll be here. I’ll teach you to fight.” He glanced toward the distant lights illuminating the walking path. “Any later and this area starts to get crowded with a lot of bears wanting to grapple and ground fight. In animal form. Trust me, you don’t want to be around for that.”

  My mouth fell open. Unable to look a gift horse in the mouth, I nodded mutely then hurried away before he could change his mind.

  Later, after I’d soaked beneath a steamy shower, I couldn’t help but grin over my small victory. Helplessness wasn’t in my blood, and I’d learn to fight no matter what the school told me to be.

  6

  Running With Ravens

  By the time Fencing class let out on Friday afternoon, I was practically buzzing with nerves and excitement that had nothing to do with the sweat I worked up during my hour-long training. Monica had texted about meeting Sharon tonight, and I had plans to get out into the city Saturday with my friends.

  Maybe I didn’t want to be someone’s muse for the rest of my life, but the promise of using magic for good provided all the motivation I needed. Faeries thrived in the presence of happy emotions. We lived for it, and even half-breeds like me received a rush when we helped out a human.