by Eva Brandt
I threw a glance toward Stefan, expecting him to shift, to prove to them how wrong they were. I’d seen him change shapes with ease, sometimes within the blink of an eye.
There was nothing. If I hadn’t known any better, I would’ve truly said that Stefan was only an animal.
My insides turned to ice. I remembered the ritual, the weakness Stefan had displayed after that, when Callum had been helping him up. Magical backlash, Mephistopheles had called it. Oh God. Had the spell done this? Had it taken away Stefan’s ability to shift?
If it had, I’d never forgive myself.
I must’ve started to hyperventilate, because Stefan nudged my leg with his nose and let out a few low yips. I couldn’t understand him, but Shiro could. “It’s all right, Lyssa,” he said. “I’m fine. I’m sure this is only temporary. I’ll fix it.”
I wasn’t sure I believed that reassurance. Cancel that, I didn’t believe it at all. And even if it was true, I wasn’t about to leave Stefan on his own, at the mercy of his housemates.
“We’ll go see the dean right now,” I said decisively. “You are going to come with me, Stefan, and I don’t want to hear any protests. And the rest of you will not get in my way or try to stop us. If you do, you’ll find out why Professor Jones still fears me.”
It was all bullshit, since Professor Jones definitely didn’t fear me and I wasn’t nearly as powerful as I was pretending to be. But the ‘fake it until you make it’ strategy worked again. The students grumbled a little, but they let us pass, and Stefan obediently followed me when I headed toward the main building of the academy.
“I’m very sorry about this, Stefan,” I told him. “If I’d known this would happen, I never would’ve accepted your offer.”
Stefan rumbled and for the second time, Shiro translated. “I’m aware. You weren’t supposed to know. We’d hoped this wouldn’t happen.”
I hadn’t thought I could feel worse about this whole thing than I already had. “Wait, you knew there was a chance that…”
He snarled, and for unknown reasons, I didn’t need Shiro to understand. “We did what we had to do. Don’t pity us, Lyssa. We’re going to be fine.”
I wanted to reach out to him, to tell him that this had nothing to do with pity. But there was a chasm between us now, one they had dug and I’d refused to bridge.
Turning away, Stefan ran off, heading in the general direction of the beach. “Wait!” I cried, but he was already gone.
I sank to my knees, feeling wretched and lost. Shiro whined and nuzzled my bare arm with his nose. I wrapped my arms around his body and buried my fingers in his luxurious white fur, finding strength in his presence. “Shiro, we can’t let this happen. We have to help him.”
“There’s nothing you can do. If the magical backlash turned him into a mutated hell hound, he’s stuck like that.”
It was the first time I’d heard Shiro say something so elaborate. Normally, I would’ve rejoiced, because it meant our connection was getting stronger. Instead, I was befuddled, alarmed, and outraged. “What? But surely there has to be a way…”
“No, Lyssa.” Shiro shook his head. “There is none.”
He seemed so certain of this and I was inclined to believe him. But at the same time, it made no sense. How could Shiro have such knowledge about hell hounds when everyone had been so secretive when it came to Stefan’s background? “I don’t understand, Shiro. How could you possibly know this?”
“Personal experience,” he replied. “That’s why hell hounds are considered animals and he was never supposed to be here at all. Because at birth, there’s a good chance that a hell hound would be born unable to shift. It’s rare, but sometimes, they’re even born with animal brains. Like me.”
He looked into my eyes and a memory flashed into my mind, one that didn’t belong to me. It was the memory of a white pup, being taken from his hell hound mother, from a litter that had rejected him.
It had been Lucifer who’d done it, Lucifer who’d placed Shiro in my path that day, when I’d found him. But… How? Why? That had been years ago, before the car accident that had almost killed my family.
I released Shiro and shot to my feet, feeling like I was about to hurl. I couldn’t say Shiro had lied to me, since he wouldn’t have been able to tell me the truth about him until recently. Even so, until now, Shiro had been the sole anchor of normality I’d had in a world that no longer made sense. It seemed that wasn’t the case anymore. “Shiro…”
“You are my beloved mistress, the only person who matters to me,” he said. “But I had to tell you this, even if it meant defying my first owner.
“There are already too many secrets here. I don’t know what will happen with your males. I don’t know if any of them can be trusted. All I want is to go back home, where you can be safe. But I don’t think that’s possible. And I don’t think you can help the hell hound male either. It is better to keep your distance, because such creatures can be violent when provoked.”
“Stefan wouldn’t hurt me, not like that,” I protested. “He never has, before.”
“He still sees you as his bitch, which has kept you safe. But you’re drifting away from him now and you belong to another. There’s no telling what he’ll do.
“He knows that, Lyssa. All of your males are aware they’re dangerous to you. That’s why your nephilim male told you to not touch him. It’s too risky. You can’t protect them. You have to focus on protecting yourself.”
He was probably right, but I was barely listening to him anymore. Stefan’s bitch. Mikael’s darkling. Callum’s princess.
I was that too, or I had been. Had I given up on it entirely?
I wasn’t sure, not anymore, but I did know one thing. I still cared about them. Maybe we wouldn’t be able to fix our romantic relationship, but that didn’t mean I’d just abandon them.
“Some things are more important than others, Shiro. If it’s in my power to save him, I will.”
Shiro whined and gave me his classical puppy-dog eye look. If I’d been inclined to be mad at him for the hell hound thing—and I wasn’t—I’d have forgiven him on the spot. Even so, I didn’t go along with his silent request. “None of that. You’re my familiar, so it’s in the job description to help me. Come on. We still have to talk to Mephistopheles.”
“Okay, Lyssa, but just so you know, I think this is a bad idea.”
“Noted and ignored,” I replied. “I made a promise, Shiro. I won’t lose my memories or abandon hope, not again.”
Shiro didn’t argue with me and together, we headed toward Mephistopheles’s office. If anyone could figure out a solution to this, it was him.
Severed
I never did get the chance to reach the dean’s office, as I’d planned. I ran into him in front of Ammit’s building. I’d have been relieved at finding him with such ease had he not been with Callum and Mikael. Their presence made it clear that Stefan hadn’t been the only one affected by the ritual.
Once again, Mikael’s wings had emerged from his back, just like they had when he’d been struck with the Revelatio potion. Unlike Stefan, he wasn’t being bullied. Instead, he was arguing with Mephistopheles, who was shouting at him, apparently furious.
“You’re being ridiculous. You don’t have to do this.”
“Of course I do,” Mikael replied. “I can’t stay like this, and there’s no other way to make them disappear.”
“You don’t know that,” Mephistopheles protested. “It’s only been a day since they came out.”
Mikael crossed his arms over his chest, his wings twitching where they lay folded against his back. “Yes, and they’ve kept growing and their magic is getting stronger. I appreciate the concern, but arguing about it is pointless.”
“Oh for Satan’s sake,” Mephistopheles hissed, shadows swirling around his feet. “Why are you so stubborn? Why can’t you understand this isn’t right?”
“Sir, with respect, it’s not stubbornness,” Callum said. “It’s self-pres
ervation. The wings are hurting him. They need to go. It’s that simple.”
Until that point, I hadn’t realized what they were talking about. They were discussing Mikael’s wings. Mikael was considering… chopping them off.
Oh, dear God, no. The horror of the realization rendered me motionless and mute, so much so that I couldn’t react at all. And then something even worse happened.
Professor Grim emerged from behind a column, carrying his sharp scythe. “He’s right, Mephistopheles. I understand where you’re coming from, but in this case, there is no alternative.”
He brought his weapon forward, and I understood exactly what he was planning to do with it. The eerie glow of the sharp blade snapped me out of my trance and I stumbled forward, desperate to prevent this insanity.
“Stop! Stop this, please!” I cried. “You don’t need to take such drastic measures. We can still fix things!”
Everyone turned to stare at me. Grim was the only one who didn’t look surprised to see me there. Mikael went even paler when he saw me approach, which should’ve been impossible considering his already sickly coloring. Callum cursed under his breath, and the flare in Mephistopheles’s crimson eyes turned brighter.
“Ms. Michaelis, what are you doing here?” the dean asked. “You should be in your dorm.”
“The door opened,” I replied defiantly. “Is that really what matters right now?”
“No, I suppose not.” Mephistopheles pursed his lips in displeasure. “Well, maybe your arrival is a good thing. They might listen to you. They’re certainly not listening to me.”
“That’s a low blow, Mephistopheles,” Mikael said, his voice sharp and vicious. “Take her to the dorms. I don’t want her to see this.”
If I hadn’t been so shocked and terrified, I would’ve been outraged. “I don’t need to be taken anywhere. I need you to stop, think about this, and not fucking mutilate yourself!”
Mikael closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. When he looked at me again, he smiled sheepishly. “Lyssa… Ms. Michaelis, this isn’t something I want to do.” Was it my impression, or was his voice shaking a little? “Believe it or not, I have my limits when it comes to harming myself. But when Professor Grim said there is no other way, he knew what he was talking about.”
He took off his shirt and showed me his back. My stomach turned when I saw a strange fungus was growing over his spine. I couldn’t identify it. It was like an infection, and it was spreading over Mikael’s body in entwined threads of jet black and silver that were cracking his skin.
“It’s a little like gangrene,” Callum explained. “It’s eating at his flesh and bones as we speak. It’s honestly a miracle that it hasn’t paralyzed him until now. But once it hits the bone marrow, there’s no telling what will happen.”
“Actually, once it hits the bone marrow, it’ll take less than a day for Mr. Lost to die an agonizing death,” Grim added.
Mikael didn’t even blink at this. He didn’t find the information surprising. I suspected he felt sicker than he was trying to appear. Wincing, he pulled his shirt back on. “There you go,” he said. “You might not believe us, but you have to believe Professor Grim knows what he’s talking about.”
I did, actually. Professor Grim was one of the few neutral parties at the school and he’d proven time and again that he had no interest or desire to hurt anyone. He had never cared Mikael was half-angel. I got the feeling that even that whole lesson on The Battle of the Watchers had been meant to support us.
Even so, at that moment, I hated him a little, because surely, such a powerful entity could find a solution that didn’t involve Mikael losing two limbs. “You all have so much power and magic! How can this be the only way?”
“There are some potions that slow down the effect, but they’re not doing much to help him,” Callum replied. “It’s too serious.”
“This is because of the spell we cast, right? So let’s just cast something else that’ll undo it!” I pleaded desperately.
“Magic doesn’t work that way, especially not after a complicated ritual like ours. If we did try, it’d probably kill you or at least…”
Mikael trailed off mid-sentence and clutched his chest, as if he couldn’t breathe. It was only for a moment, and then, he was upright again, displaying no sign of weakness whatsoever.
Everything inside me was screaming in anguish. Mephistopheles wasn’t doing much better. “Mikael…” he said, sounding more hesitant and uncertain than he’d ever been before.
“Let’s just stop this, Sir,” Mikael offered. “I know you want to help me, but you’ve already done more than I could’ve possibly asked for. You gave me a home here when I had nothing. It was stupid of me to try to cling to the past, even if only through my wings.”
“Stupidity has nothing to do with it, Mikael. You might be half-angel, but you’ve always been a demon at heart. Your wings are just as demonic as the rest of you.”
That wasn’t what Mephistopheles had told me. He’d said that Mikael had always been too kind for a demon. And maybe Mikael realized that too, because he laughed.
“You know as well as I do that’s not true. But that’s okay. I’m grateful I’m a… nephilim. I just… It’s not possible, not anymore.”
The bitter taste of defeat filled my mouth. There was nothing I could do and trying to change his mind was prolonging his pain.
This was similar to the time Shiro had been trying to hold onto life for me, despite the pain the dark magic had put him through. I was just being selfish. In the end, Mikael’s survival was far more important than his wings, and my own sensibilities and regrets were beside the point. If Professor Grim thought this was the only solution and even Mephistopheles seemed to have given up, it wasn’t my place to stand in Mikael’s way.
“Okay. Is there anything I can do to help? Anything at all.”
Professor Grim shook his head. “I’m not sure that’d be a good idea. As you’ve already realized, this illness is in part caused by the ritual of familiar transfer. There might still be some sensitivity. Your presence doesn’t hurt him, but your touch might. As such, the best thing you can do is to keep your distance.”
Mephistopheles took my hand and started to pull me away. “Come with me, Alyssa. We should go.”
The last thing I wanted was to go, but this wasn’t about what I wanted. Forcing myself not to cry, I nodded and numbly echoed Mephistopheles’s words. “Right. Yes, of course. We should… go.”
Despite my so-called determination, Mephistopheles had to tug me along to get me to move. He even shielded me with his wing to encourage me. Shiro urged me on as well, nudging me with his snout, and between the two of them, they managed to put some distance between me and the others.
I stopped being cooperative when I heard the sound of a dull thud and a muffled scream behind us. “Don’t look,” Mephistopheles warned me.
I ignored him, because I’d always been terrible at listening to people when they told me to do things ‘for my own good’. Freeing myself from his hold, I turned toward Mikael once again. From the distance, I watched Mikael lean against Callum, shaking, flickers of protesting magic crackling around him.
Blood spurted grotesquely from his back. On the ground, a disembodied wing writhed like a dying animal.
Professor Grim didn’t give Mikael any time to recover. He lifted his scythe once again and let it fall over Mikael. The second wing was severed as well, and this time, Mikael outright screamed.
The horrifying scene should’ve been enough to induce a seizure, but I kept looking anyway, because I couldn’t afford to ignore it.
“This is my fault, isn’t it?” I asked Mephistopheles. “All this pain.”
“Of course it isn’t,” Mephistopheles replied. “Alyssa, everything in life is a consequence of someone’s choice. You chose the best thing for you, and you were perfectly entitled to do that. What’s happening now is regrettable, yes, but it doesn’t change your right to choose, to protect yourself. In fa
ct, you don’t have to care about this. You don’t have to care about them at all.”
He had a point. I didn’t have to care. This was The Academy of the Devil, and if there was anything my stay here had taught me, it was that caring too much made you vulnerable.
Caring meant weakness. You had to be cruel to be kind.
Here at the academy, whenever a person displayed affection, he or she always had a secret agenda. If that wasn’t the case, there were always consequences, a price to be paid, usually in blood.
But did things really have to be that way? Was I as helpless as I felt?
“May I ask you a question, Sir?” I whispered.
“Yes, of course. What is it?”
“Why did you say you wanted to protect me, even from Lucifer? What are you truly after?”
Mephistopheles’s mouth opened and closed. He clearly hadn’t expected that, now of all times. “To be honest, the only thing I want is you,” he replied after a long pause. “Demons… We might not feel emotion exactly like humans, but we do… Err… We do…”
“Love,” I said, finishing the sentence in his stead. “Thank you.”
I brushed a kiss over his cheek. “Help me. Please. We can’t just give up on them. You have so much magic at your disposal. You can find a better answer.”
Mephistopheles took my hand and threaded our fingers together. “There’s not much I can do for Mikael,” he replied, “not right now, at least. I’d like to, believe me, I would. But I’m a demon, not an angel. My healing abilities are limited.”
“That doesn’t mean we’re powerless. And even if it did… Stefan needs our help too.”
“Stefan?” Mephistopheles repeated, sounding alarmed. “Something happened to Mr. Schwarz?”
Clearly, he was unaware of that part. “He turned into his hell hound form and seemed unable to shift back. Shiro thinks Stefan is now a mutated hell hound. A group of students were hunting him because of it.”
Mephistopheles cursed viciously. “We have to find him, before he loses control of his beast and does permanent damage to himself or to someone else. Would you—”