“Get away from my sister,” Dean snarled again, spittle flying.
“He’s just had a bit too much to drink,” I said to the two guys, shooting them an apologetic smile. For a moment they looked like they might take offence to Dean, but Jim’s bat seemed to persuade them otherwise – or maybe it was the sheer size of Cam and Leo. I was pretty convinced it wasn’t me – all of five foot nothing on a good day.
Cam had his head bent to Dean’s ear and was speaking rapidly in a voice that was too quiet for me to hear, but whatever he was saying didn’t seem to be doing a whole lot to placate our friend.
“Are you okay?” I asked Tara, letting my eyes flick to the guys flanking her. She scowled at me.
“I’m fine. And I already told you, I don’t need help from the likes of you.”
I took a slow breath and reminded myself that she was just lashing out because she was hurting. And then I took another breath and reminded myself that slapping some manners into Dean’s sister was probably a bad idea.
“Alright, Tara, whatever you say.”
I nodded to Jim, and helped the others get Dean out into the cold, sobering air. It was time to head back to the academy.
Chapter Six
Halloween was always a big deal at Fur ‘n’ Fang. I mean, the place was full of students, and shifter students at that – no-one round here needed an excuse to let their hair down and party. For me and Cam, it was a big deal for a different reason. It was our second anniversary. I kinda blew it last year, I didn’t even give it a thought. But this year, well, this year was going to be different. I had plans. And I’d done a little shopping, and I’d even convinced Mei and Dean to bunk with a couple of friends so me and Cam had our dorm to ourselves.
All that was standing between me, Cam, and the perfect night… was Underwood.
“Are we done yet?” I asked, slumping back into my chair and swivelling it all the way round in a circle, staring up at the ceiling. Underwood jerked my chair to a halt, and I rolled my eyes forward to stare up at him.
“We are not done yet. Need I remind you that should you fail your assessment in May, the Druidic Council can require you to attend Dragondale Academy until you attain sufficient proficiency?”
“No, you don’t. And you don’t need to throw half the dictionary at me, either.”
“Which word is giving you difficulty?”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“None of them, you ja– Wait. Was that a joke?”
He allowed himself a small smile – at my expense – and I scowled again. He exhaled heavily and perched on the edge of the desk. Our lessons were held in an empty shifting lab now, presumably because nothing here was easily damaged, which meant we had a lot more space and furniture than in the dungeon. It wasn’t like we had to worry about keeping my secret anymore.
“How have things been?” he asked. “With the rage curse?”
“Uh, excuse me?” I glanced over my shoulder and back at him, checking he hadn’t turned into Shaun without me noticing. “When did this become a counselling session? Because Shaun has that covered.”
“Just asking.” He raised his hands in a placating gesture. Alright, maybe my tone had been a bit sharp. I rubbed my temples.
“I’m dealing. It’s under control.” Most of the time.
“Good. Get your hoodie. We have a trip to make.”
“What? No, I can’t. Not tonight.”
“I’ve already cleared it with Alpha Blake.” He got up and raised an expectant eyebrow at my grey Fur ‘n’ Fang hoodie, abandoned on one of the spare desks – where it was staying, because I wasn’t going on Underwood’s stupid field trip.
“I’ve got plans.”
He picked up his cloak – I was so used to seeing the hideous thing that I’d long since stopped paying attention to how ridiculous it was – and swung it over his shoulders.
“Ah, the Halloween party?” Underwood smiled wistfully. “The students at Dragondale hold a similar party every year. Don’t worry, I’ll have you back in plenty of time.”
“I’m not going to the party.”
“Oh?”
“It’s mine and Cam’s anniversary. We have plans.”
Underwood shook his head. “I’m afraid this isn’t optional. You’ve been summoned.”
That froze me in place.
“Summoned? By who?”
“By whom.”
“Really?” I folded my arms and glared at him. “You’re going to do the whole grammar thing right now?”
“Head Councilman Cauldwell of the Grand Council of the Druidic Circle.”
My arms fell away from my chest, and I took an unsteady step back.
“I… don’t want to go there.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. But you’ve been summoned.”
“But…” I groped for a legitimate excuse. “I’m a shifter, not a druid. They don’t have any… jurisdiction!”
Underwood perched on the edge of the desk again and eyed me with something painfully similar to pity.
“The druids have authority over all the magical communities. But even if they didn’t, Alpha Blake has given his word to Councilman Cauldwell that you will attend. It’s important that we all cooperate with each other. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how close our two communities came to outright war last year?”
“Oh, I must’ve slept through that. I don’t recall almost getting raped and killed.”
He blinked, and I clamped my mouth shut. Crap. I hadn’t told anyone about the not-rape. It wasn’t that I was ashamed or anything like that, I just… wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. With anyone.
“Have I mentioned how much it sucks being dragged into this whole world?” I griped, turning away from him and snatching up my hoodie.
“Once or twice, yes.”
“How long is this going to take? Because I have–”
“Plans. Yes. I’m sure your beau will wait.”
“Please don’t ever call him that again.” I pulled the hoodie on. We couldn’t portal from inside the academy thanks to the wards, and the nights were getting colder. “Alright, let’s get it over with.”
We headed out to the academy’s front gates – the only spot portals in and out of the academy still worked, after Blake had the wards tightened this summer. And it only took half a dozen students almost being brutally murdered to make him see the security risk. Shifters. They really didn’t miss a trick.
Underwood raised a hand and muttered a word, and the portal sprung effortlessly into existence. Dammit. How the hell did he do that? Not a damned thing sprung into existence when I tried it, whether I muttered the stupid word or screamed it. It drove me crazy – and the flicker of amusement that passed over Underwood’s face told me he knew it. But it faded quickly as he turned to me.
“You are about the meet the most powerful druid in the country.”
“More powerful than Raphael?”
“I didn’t mean that sort of power. He may not look like much, but a single word from him will be enough to see you incarcerated in Daoradh for the rest of your natural life.”
Well, that sounded just great. I still had a hard time being in the same room as Draeven – who on earth thought it would be a good idea for me to meet his druid equivalent when our truce was still hanging by a thread after we’d narrowly avoided war? I was going to doom the entire shifter race.
“You know what? Maybe he’s busy tonight. I wouldn’t want to disturb him.”
“He summoned you, remember?”
“Yeah, but…”
“You’ll be fine. Just try to remember your manners.”
“You realise that’s like asking a fish to climb a tree, right? I’m telling you, this is a bad idea. Like, a really bad idea.”
“Jade.” His tone made me jerk my eyes up to meet his. “You can do this. If I can come here, to this place, every week, you can manage one trip to the druid council. And I’ll be there to keep you out of too much trouble.”
He had a point
. He’d told me last year that because of his druid father, he’d been disowned by his pack, and attended Dragondale.
“Why didn’t you come here?” I asked. “I mean, before going to Dragondale?”
“Halfbreeds aren’t permitted to study at Fur ‘n’ Fang.”
“Hybrids,” I corrected him absently. “Leo says halfbreed is a racial slur. And I’m a hybrid, but I’m here.”
“You were already at Fur ‘n’ Fang when your magic showed. It’s a little different for those of us who are born this way.”
I’d never really thought much about how things had been for Underwood. Truth be told, I’d assumed he’d grown up like any other shifter, but with magic and a father instead of a pack, and that had been the end of my interest. But his eyes tightened when he spoke about being born this way, and there was a shadow on his face that had nothing to do with the ambient lighting.
“But you still grew up around other shifters, right? I mean, even though your own pack didn’t accept you, some of them must have? And… protected you?”
“No.”
The word was curt, but I couldn’t help prying further. The shifter world looked after its own, it always had. But I’d heard the way some of the other students said the word ‘halfbreed’, even some of the instructors.
“What happened?”
“Forget it. I never should have mentioned it.” His tone eased, and he gestured to the portal in front of us. “We should be going. It doesn’t pay to keep the council waiting.”
“Uh… after you?”
“Nice try. I’ve been tutoring you for the last year. I’m not going to fall for that.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, and, with one last look at him, I stepped through the portal.
Chapter Seven
The grand council had been attacked by an alliance of rogue packs earlier this year, but the building I emerged into was immaculate. I sucked in a sharp breath as I looked around the room. The walls were bare stone, and there was not a single stain or smudge on any of them. The cobbles under my feet were so pristine that I felt bad stepping on them in my grubby trainers. Near the ceiling, high above my head, a row of fireballs hung alongside the walls, suspended in the air. I watched one for a moment, but it never dulled, never scorched anything, never even gave a wisp of smoke. I could create fireballs, but to compare mine to these was like comparing a stick figure to the Mona Lisa. Not to mention that these were just hanging there without any sign of a druid holding them in place.
A cough sounded from one corner of the room, and I jerked my gaze down in time to see a figure detach from the shadows. I saw her red hair first, tied back but still erratic, and the pale face it framed. She was dressed in the same dark robes Underwood favoured, but the heavy cloak she wore was red, trimmed with green.
There was a ripple, and Underwood emerged from the portal beside me. His eyes fixed on the girl, and a smile formed on his worn face.
“Kelsey. It’s good to see you.”
“And you, Professor Underwood.”
The pair stepped forward and embraced. I hung back, listening to the blood pounding in my ears. Last time I saw Kelsey, I tried to kill her. That was probably fair, given that the time before that, she’d tried to kill me, and turned me into a shifter. Not to mention infected me with this damned rage curse. I thrust my hands into my pocket. The rage curse was the only reason I was reacting this way. It hadn’t been her fault. I knew that. She’d been as much a victim as I had. And I’d promised myself that next time I saw her, it would be different. We would not be two women pitted against each other by the actions of one man.
Damned if I didn’t want to throw a punch at her anyway.
“Jade?”
Underwood’s voice was a combination of uncertainty and warning, and I snapped my gaze to him. He raised an eyebrow, and I took a slow breath, and another. They’d sent her to meet me for a reason. This was a test, and I was not going to blow it. But I wished to hell I’d had a little warning.
I stepped forward, and Underwood tensed. I tossed him a cocky smile, then held my hand out to Kelsey.
“It’s good to meet you properly. I’m sorry I didn’t see you this summer.”
Kelsey offered me a warm smile, then stepped forward and shook my hand. Screw Raphael. His curse might be lodged in my skull, but that didn’t mean I had to give him headspace. I barely even tensed when her hand made contact with mine.
“It’s good to meet you, too, Jade. We should talk sometime. I mean, if you want to.”
“I’d like that.”
I shoved my hands back into my pockets before she could see them shaking.
“Shall we?” Underwood said, clearly on edge. If I had to guess, I’d say the druids hadn’t been any more accepting of his hybrid heritage than the shifters had been, which made me feel just great about what I was going to be facing.
“Yes, of course,” Kelsey said. “Please, follow me.”
She led the way through a maze of deserted corridors – each as pristine as the room we’d portalled into, and each lit by the same perfect fireballs. A lowly cur could seriously get some magic envy walking round here. And then I realised they might expect me to cast fireballs to that standard in my magical competency assessment, and my envy turned into something else. Just as I’d thought I didn’t have room for any more anxiety. At least it was helping squash the rage.
We passed a few other people, all dressed the same as Kelsey and Underwood. I was starting to feel seriously underdressed in the Fur ‘n’ Fang cargo trousers and hoodie. Kelsey nodded to each person we passed; some nodded back, others ignored her. I wondered if it was her history or her heritage they had an issue with. Or maybe they didn’t like who she was escorting. Either way, it didn’t seem like a good omen to me.
I kept those thoughts to myself. It wasn’t like I could do anything about it now. I just had to show up, listen to whatever the hell this Cauldwell wanted to say to me, keep my mouth shut – and, hopefully, leave.
After a few tense minutes of walking through the winding hallways, Kelsey halted in front of a large oak door. It had to be at least fifteen feet tall, and wide enough for four people to enter abreast. The hinges were the size of my hand. What the hell sort of creature came in here when they weren’t tormenting twenty-year-old curs from Essex?
Kelsey rapped on the door, and a voice inside commanded us to enter. The door opened – though no-one touched it that I could see – and Kelsey bowed her head and withdrew. I watched her go, then Underwood nudged me. I shuffled into the circular room, scanning it with wide eyes as I did.
It was bigger than the main hall at Fur ‘n’ Fang – bigger even that the alpha pack court room I’d defended Dean in last year. It was statelier, too. Wood panelling covered the lower half of the walls, and the rest were some sort of exposed stone that had been polished until it shone – and I wasn’t sure stone was supposed to shine. The floors had received the same treatment, and all around the curved walls were rows of polished-wood benching. Most of them sat empty, but here and there were several clusters of cloaked figures.
At the far side of the room, directly opposite the door, was the largest courtroom bench I’d ever seen. The behemoth was made of polished wood – mahogany, a discrete sniff of the air told me – and every inch was ornately carved so skilfully that I was sure no human hand could have done it.
Movement behind the bench caught my eye as a cloaked and robed figure rose to his feet. Cauldwell. Underwood was right – he didn’t look like much: a thin, greying man with lines set deep into his face. But I could smell the power leaking out of him, and not just the sort of power Underwood had warned me about.
Underwood stopped in the centre of the circular room, and I stopped beside him. I could feel the eyes of the entire room on us from all sides. It was not a pleasant feeling. Underwood ignored them all and bowed his head to Cauldwell. I froze under the man’s piercing glare, and then hurriedly dipped my chin, too.
“Head Councilman Cauldwe
ll,” Underwood said. “Thank you for receiving us.”
“Professor Underwood,” Cauldwell replied, and his lips twisted around the title. “And this must be the Bitten.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, keeping my eyes low. He might not be an alpha, but I figured some signs of respect transcended species, and no matter how much his attitude irked me, challenging him wasn’t going to get me anything other than a private room in Daoradh.
“Thank you both for coming. Please, be seated.”
I was about to ask on what, when a pair of chairs grew out of the ground behind us. Fucking grew. And Cauldwell hadn’t even uttered a word. What the hell could someone that powerful do if they really put their minds to it? I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out. I sank obediently into the seat, and Underwood did the same beside me. Cauldwell resumed his own seat, and looking up at him made me feel like a kid in the headmaster’s office. Again.
“I have invited you here to discuss a development in your case.”
Invited. Yeah, right. I glanced at Underwood, and said,
“My case?”
The look Underwood gave me in return told me he’d rather I left the speaking to him, and I lifted and dropped my shoulders in the smallest of shrugs. It was a perfectly reasonable question.
“Yes, Ms Hart,” Cauldwell said, turning his piercing stare on me before moving it to Underwood. “She is aware, I presume, of the nature of her curse?”
“She is,” I said, daring Underwood with my eyes to even try to answer for me. Cauldwell turned his eyes back on me and narrowed them momentarily. I guess he wasn’t used to people speaking without an invitation. But I wasn’t used to being treated like I was invisible, and I didn’t intend to get used to it.
“Then you are aware that you are under the influence of a residual second-generation rage curse, transmitted to you when Ms Winters bit you.”
“Yes. And I’m aware that neither of us is to blame for that.”
Cauldwell raised a hand, but I’d already clamped my mouth shut.
“I am not suggesting that you are. And I note with interest your defence of Ms Winters – who is, as I am sure you are aware, a member of this council.”
Feral Bitten (Fur 'n' Fang Academy Book 3): A Shifter Academy Novel Page 4