Whatever that meant.
Then he turned and glided away, leaving Kaitlyn and me with no choice but to enter the echoing locker room, which was filled with our other classmates already getting dressed.
We chose lockers on the far end of the busy space, both of us moving slowly and I knew the reason why. Neither of us was really keen to expose our scars again—though I still felt like I had it much easier than poor Kaitlyn.
I got into my own gym clothes and stood in front of her to screen her from any prying eyes while she got dressed.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Megan,” she whispered to me and I saw that her one good eye was filled with tears. “I hate this—I hate it so much.”
“I know, hon.”
My heart ached for her and I felt the rage building in me. She shouldn’t have to go through this, damn it! She shouldn’t have to expose herself when she was so vulnerable and hurt—it wasn’t right!
“It’s all right,” I said, trying to reassure her as she finished getting dressed. “I’ll be with you every minute—you won’t be alone. I swear it.”
“Thanks, Megan.” She ducked her head and stood slowly, her scarred arms crossed protectively over her chest. “Okay—no point putting it off,” she said, obviously trying to be strong. “Let’s go.”
I took her hand, lacing my fingers though hers and squeezed, to send courage and reassurance.
She shot me a grateful look and we pushed out of the opposite end of the locker room and into the mercilessly bright Florida sunshine.
Coach Vasquez was already there, marching up and down the line of assembled students like a general inspecting the troops. Sanchez and Reyes were already in the boys’ line, I saw. They had their backs to us but when the big Drake turned his head to the side slightly, I saw the blue imprint of my hand still showing on his left cheek.
Great. I had been hoping that it might somehow have faded but clearly I would have no such luck. I wondered how permanent shame-marking really was. Would I be able to undo it if I could somehow access my blocked magic? And more to the point, did I want to undo it?
Because I still firmly believed that Sanchez deserved to be shamed after the way he had bullied Kaitlyn. He had earned that blue handprint on his face—it was a scar of his own, a consequence of his wrong-doing. And who knew, maybe it would make him think twice about bullying someone again.
I snorted to myself. Yeah, right—like that was going to happen. A bully was a bully and in my experience, they rarely changed their stripes.
“All right, let’s go, let’s go,” Coach Vasquez shouted in that bugle-call voice of hers. “Come on people, get in line—no stragglers!”
I stepped forward but I felt a tug on my hand and saw Kaitlyn hanging back.
“Megan, I just…I can’t.” Her voice was tight with tears. “She’ll make me put my hair back and they’re all going to laugh at me again. I just know it.”
“No, they aren’t,” a cool voice said in my ear.
I looked up in surprise to see Griffin striding past us, right up to the Drake Coach.
“What in the world? Where did he come from?” I muttered as Kaitlyn and I watched him go.
“I don’t know but he did say he might see you before the end of class,” she reminded me. But what is he doing?”
“I have no idea,” I murmured, watching in fascination.
But I had a feeling we were about to find out.
35
Griffin drew the Coach to one side, behind the line of gym students who were facing the field. He was talking to her earnestly, though he was speaking too low for me to understand him.
Coach Vasquez scowled at him at first and shook her head in a short, definite way.
“No exceptions,” I heard her say. “Now go on, Darkheart—you’re holding up my class!”
Griffin raised an eyebrow at her.
“Very well,” I heard him say. “I didn’t want to resort to this but…”
Pulling down the dark glasses he wore during the daytime, he stared directly into her eyes and said something else I couldn’t quite catch. I saw the pupils of his lightning and pitch eyes dilate for a moment and then he put his glasses back up and nodded at the Coach.
“Do you understand?”
For a moment she just stood there, staring at him. Then she nodded, like someone coming out of a dream.
“Yes. Yes, of course.”
“Good. See to it, then.”
Then he turned and strolled back towards Kaitlyn and me.
“What just now happened? What did you say to her?” I asked him but he only shook his head.
“I’ll see you after class, little witch. Make sure you’re not late.”
Then he was gone, disappearing into the door that led through the boys’ locker room and back out into the school, moving with the easy, slouching grace of a panther.
“Well, I guess we’d better go.” There was a note of resignation in Kaitlyn’s voice.
I squeezed her hand comfortingly.
“It’s okay—I’m with you.”
But as we went to take our places at the end of the girl’s line-up, Coach Vasquez came to intercept us.
“Miss Fellows,” she said to Kaitlyn. “What are you doing here?”
“Um…I was, uh, that is…I’m here for class?” Kaitlyn said uncertainly.
Coach Vasquez frowned.
“Don’t be foolish. You know you’re excused from Physical Education for the rest of the year. Get back into your uniform and go directly to Study Hall. I don’t want to see you out here again!”
“Oh, uh…thank you, Coach.” Kaitlyn nodded gratefully and looked at me. “Um, is Megan excused too?”
“Of course not!” Coach Vasquez glared at me. “And she’s about to be late! Get in line, Miss Latimer. And hurry!”
“Yes, Coach!” I barely had time to squeeze Kaitlyn’s hand again before I had to run out onto the sunny field by myself.
As I stood there in the merciless sunlight with all my scars showing again, I wondered what in the world Griffin had done to get Kaitlyn out of gym class indefinitely. I remembered him saying something to Sanchez about how his kind could control beasts—did it have anything to do with that, somehow?
I had no idea.
But whatever it was he had done to get Kaitlyn out of gym, why couldn’t he have done it for me too?
36
“How did you do that?” I demanded, the minute I stepped out of the girls’ locker room and found Griffin waiting for me.
“Do what?” he asked innocently, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together.
For a moment the touch of his cool hand on mine drove everything else out of my head. My heart started to pound and the key twisted and burned between my breasts. I found myself staring into his eyes and couldn’t look away. Damn it, why did he affect me so much?
“Get…get Kaitlyn out of gym class?” I finally forced my mouth to say, though my tongue felt thick.
“Ah. Well, I simply employed a bit of my Nocturne heritage,” he remarked, leading me through the busy halls, the crowd of students magically parting before us, as always. “My family, the Darkhearts, are quite powerful, you know. And our particular talent lies in commanding animals of all kinds. Even Drakes.”
“But…but I thought female Drakes didn’t have an animal inside—didn’t have a dragon?” I said, frowning. I was carefully looking away from his perfect profile as I spoke. It was easier to think clearly when I wasn’t staring at him.
“They don’t have a Drake that comes out—most of them don’t, anyway,” Griffin corrected me. “But all Drakes are two-natured—it’s just that male Drakes are able to allow the other half of themselves to take over and emerge from time to time. I spoke to the beast buried within Coach Vasquez and gave it an order to allow Kaitlyn to get out of her class.” He shrugged. “Simple as that.”
I gaped at him. “But…isn’t it against the rules of the Academy to use your supernatural powers o
n others—especially teachers?”
“Oh yes—it’s absolutely against the rules.” Griffin didn’t sound at all concerned.
“But…so couldn’t you get expelled for that?” I demanded.
“Oh, no. No, I couldn’t.” He laughed bitterly. “No, I’m afraid I can never be expelled from Nocturne Academy. Much as I might wish to be.”
Which again, made no sense. Why would he want to get kicked out of school?
I had so many more questions I wanted to ask—especially since he seemed to be open to answering them for once—but we had just arrived at English class. I started to go towards my seat in the front but Griffin shook his head.
“Oh no, my little witch. You’re sitting with me.”
Over my protests, he led me to his seat in the far back corner and settled me in a desk right beside him. Then he pulled my desk right up next to his—even though it meant taking it out of the row it was in—and looped a proprietary arm around my shoulders.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” I muttered under my breath. Having him this close made my heart race so hard I almost felt like I might pass out. I tried taking deep breaths to calm down but that didn’t help—it filled my senses with his cool, sharp scent which reminded me of winter and ice.
“I’m simply proving you’re mine, little witch,” he murmured in my ear. “Don’t worry. I’ll let you go as soon as our little display has had the desired effect.”
Soon enough, I saw what he meant. Sanchez and his cronies —who had left me strictly alone during PE, though the big Drake had been glaring at me the entire time—came slouching into Mrs. Wainright’s classroom about thirty seconds after the tardy bell chimed. They took one look at me and Griffin, with his arm possessively around me, muttered angrily, and then settled themselves in seats on the far side of the room.
“There, see? That wasn’t so bad,” Griffin murmured, finally removing his arm, though he immediately took my hand instead and interlaced our fingers.
“Stop,” I muttered. “I have to take notes.”
He laughed, a low, cool chuckle I could feel all the way down to the tips of my fingers and toes.
“As if you’d need to take notes in this class. Aren’t you going to be an English professor in a Norm college someday? Or have your plans changed, now that you know what you are?” He looked at me curiously.
I opened my mouth to say that of course my plans hadn’t changed and I was still fully committed to my career path. But somehow the words wouldn’t come out. Because, I realized slowly, they weren’t true.
The last two days had changed everything for me and I now had no idea what the future held—but it probably wasn’t graduate school and a fast track to tenure at some Ivy League university somewhere.
“I…I don’t know,” I said at last, frowning at him and decided to change the subject. “Why did you get Kaitlyn out of gym and not me? I mean I…” I cleared my throat. “I have scars too.” Of course there weren’t nearly as bad as my friend’s but I still would rather have kept them hidden.
“So I noticed,” he murmured, arching an eyebrow at me. “And I would dearly love to hear where they came from. Why don’t you tell me?”
To my horror, I found that I was about to tell him—was about to blurt out the whole story about my mother dying and how I hadn’t known I was doing Blood magic and everything else—which would surely get me expelled from Nocturne Academy if the nosy Fae girls, who were glancing back at us and whispering, overheard any of it.
“Later,” Griffin added and I felt the compulsion to tell him everything suddenly and mercifully ease.
“How did you do that?” I demanded furiously, under my breath.
“Do what?” He gave me an innocent look.
“How did you make me need to tell you the truth just now?” I asked. And in fact, I realized, it wasn’t the first time I had been unable to lie or dissemble to him. Ever since last night I’d felt compelled to answer him truthfully, no matter what he asked me. “Does it have something to do with you marking me?” I asked suspiciously.
Griffin shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Well I don’t like it! Take it away!” I demanded.
He gave me an amused glance.
“Is lying so important to you then? Maybe you want a career as a politician instead of a professor, Megan.”
“No, I just…I need to be able to keep some things to myself,” I said, frowning. “It’s not fair that I have to tell you anything you ask!”
“To be fair, I am also bound to tell you the truth, if you ask me a direct question,” he responded. “Though since I marked you and not the other way around, I’m able to get around it a bit more than you are.”
So he had to tell me the truth too? So many questions flew to my lips that they nearly choked me. Griffin clearly saw the eagerness on my face because he frowned and shook his head.
“Later, my eager little witch. For now, I’ll answer the one question you asked before—why didn’t I get you out of gym class too.”
“Well? Why didn’t you?” I asked, frowning at him fiercely.
“Because it would have been seen by Sanchez as a sign of weakness—an acknowledgement that I couldn’t protect you during the times I am not with you,” Griffin explained. “As long as I make a show of walking you to and from classes, it proves you’re still under my protection and it lets him know I’m serious about your safety. But if I removed you from the class altogether, he would think it was because I wasn’t strong enough to punish him if he hurts you when I’m not there.” He bared his fangs in a frightening smile at Sanchez, who had twisted around to glare at us for a moment. “But don’t worry, little witch, I am fully capable.”
Seeing the bared fangs, Sanchez scowled once more but turned around and started talking to one of his cronies.
After that little display, I had to acknowledge I was grateful for Griffin’s protection—though to be honest, I still didn’t understand why he was protecting me. Was it our two necklaces, drawing us together? I couldn’t think of any other reason he would be interested enough to put himself out for me. It wasn’t like I was some gorgeous super model. I was just Megan Latimer—no big deal. Also I had the scars all up and down my arms and inner thighs to contend with. Those weren’t exactly attractive, though they weren’t disfiguring like poor Kaitlyn’s.
“Well…you could have at least gotten me out of dressing out,” I grumbled at last, still irritated and uncertain.
“So you could hide your scars?” He frowned as though he knew what I’d been thinking. “No.”
“Why not?” I demanded.
“Because they’re nothing to be ashamed of,” Griffin said firmly. “However they came about—whatever you did and why-ever you did it—they are part of you, Megan and you should wear them as a badge of honor. Just like you did in class yesterday,” he added. “I was very impressed by your courage, by the way. Sitting there with your head high and your shoulders straight while those two Fae bubble-heads went on and on about you. That takes a special kind of bravery which few possess.”
“But my scars…they’re ugly,” I said in a small voice.
Griffin’s eyes widened and he turned to face me fully.
“Ugly? No part of you is ugly, Megan! Goddess Bright…” He shook his head. “You have no idea how lovely you are, do you?”
“I…I…” I felt suddenly tongue-tied all over again. Why would he say that to me when all my life I had felt nothing but average? He was the one who was gorgeous—way out of my league. Why was he even bothering with me?
I wanted to ask that but just then Mrs. Wainright finally stopped writing on the white board and turned around. The whole class had been having whispered conversations around us, just as Griffin and I had been doing, and now they got quieter.
“Well, hello, class,” our ancient teacher said in her distant, creaky voice. “Now who has done the reading assignment from last night?”
“We’ll talk later,” Griffin murm
ured to me. “Much later.”
And with that, I had to be content, though I had about a billion questions to ask him. I had to keep them all bottled inside as Mrs. Wainright droned on and on about the foreshadowing in Dracula and how it was an inherent part of folklore and vampires as a metaphor for death…
When she got to that part, I shot a sharp glance at Griffin but he wasn’t looking at me. Sanchez had turned in his seat again, the blue handprint vivid against the skin of his cheek. He was staring at us—staring at Griffin—and neither one of them was blinking. At last the big Drake dropped his eyes and looked away again, much to my relief. Griffin seemed to relax after that and there were no more staring contests or silent threats from the other side of the room.
At the end of class, I turned to him again, ready to ask all the questions that had been churning inside me the entire period. But Griffin shook his head.
“We cannot speak freely within these walls,” he warned, as we stood up to go.
“But…then when can I ask you questions?” I demanded.
“Never in Nocturne Academy,” he said sternly. “Of course you can ask me getting to know you questions—what is my favorite color and things like that. It’s green by the way,” he added, looking me directly in the eyes as his voice dropped to a sensuous purr. “Green with some flecks of gray, I believe.”
“Stop trying to flatter me to get around the issue,” I protested, dragging my eyes away from his and taking his offered arm as we walked out the door and back into the hallway. “And tell me when and where we can actually talk.”
Griffin sighed.
“I see you are not to be deterred. All right, we can talk during the weekend—Saturday night, if you like. At my place.”
I shot him a glance. “Your place?” I nibbled my lip indecisively. Was it safe to go be alone with him somewhere?
Griffin suddenly took me by the arms and pressed me against the nearest stone wall. He leaned in close and murmured in my ear,
“You’re wondering if it’s safe to come to me after dark…to be alone with me. Well let me save you the trouble of wondering, little witch—the answer is no.”
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