by Lan Chan
The nymphs were anything but serene. They huddled together, speaking in a timbre even the supernaturals couldn’t hear. Emily hung limp in Isla’s arms. The Fae’s jaw locked. When she saw me watching, Isla rolled her eyes. I gathered she wasn’t impressed by Emily’s constant fainting.
I tried to scramble back when the nymphs broke their huddle. Purple nymph dropped onto the ground. She glided up until she could reach out and touch me. It was barely perceptible when she drew her finger in an odd pattern on my forehead. Then she created the same pattern on the parchment. A tingling sensation squirmed in my chest. It subsided as quickly as it came.
The golden vines around me dissolved. Gabriel’s Key appeared out of thin air and clattered to the ground. I reached out and snatched it, not taking my eyes from the Grove.
“What was that?”
I pushed myself upright as the nymphs disappeared. Silly as it was, I tried to follow them. Two steps were all I managed before hitting a barrier that ejected me onto my ass. Dignity wouldn’t allow me to try another time.
“Really?” I shouted at their fading forms. “That’s how you want to play this?”
They had locked me out of the Grove. Two years of early morning shifts down the drain. Kai stepped up beside me. “They’re just scared. Give them time to adjust.”
My attention landed to the right where Isla was propping Emily’s back against a tree. The human’s eyelids were flickering but she seemed to be responsive.
“Everyone is always scared,” I snapped. “I can’t help how other people feel. And I’m getting a little sick of being the punching bag.”
“Blue”.
The position of the sun said I’d missed my morning Dead Languages class. Win some. Lose some. With one unpleasant task completed for the day, I turned on my heel and made my way to Professor Mortimer’s cottage.
14
Part of me was convinced that if Professor Mortimer hadn’t been in sanctuary with Raphael for most of the summer, that I would have gone to see him and grovelled earlier. As I approached the cottage where he’d asked me to meet him for our first lesson, the dip in my gut said otherwise.
Tyler was already there leaning against the doorway. My expression, reflecting back at me from the front window, was no less severe than it had been yesterday.
“Haven’t forgiven me, I assume,” Tyler said.
“Didn’t hear you apologise,” I shot back.
“Nothing to apologise for.” Bloody elite guards.
I shrugged. “What are you doing here?”
He knocked lightly on the door. “I had some spare time and this class looks interesting.” Otherwise known as the elite guards spying on me.
There was shuffling from inside the house. The front door opened.
“Tyler,” Professor Mortimer said, stepping out into the open field. “I heard they’d stationed you here. How does it feel to be back on the old stomping ground?”
They did that weird thing men did that wasn’t a handshake but somehow involved a lot of pats on the back. Lingering in the doorway wasn’t a good stalling tactic. I glanced up to find the professor smiling at me.
“Alessia.” He was another one that refused to call me by my nickname. Something about beautiful European names being ruined by vulgar pop culture. I’d thought it a funny thing to say for someone named Bruce.
“Ah...hi.”
I looked everywhere but into his eyes. His hands landed on shoulders. “Alessia.”
I took in a shuddering breath. Between the two of us, the professor was the more patient. He could out-awkward me any day of the week. Caving, I raised my head. My focus landed on the two raised bumps of skin on his forehead where the demon’s horns had erupted. Even Raphael hadn’t managed to heal that injury.
“I’m so sorry,” I started to say.
He shook his head. “Don’t be. You had no idea.”
“Bran...”
His head bowed. For a second, it felt as if I was there. And then the professor gripped my shoulder tightly and the moment broke. “We honour our fallen by fighting another day. That’s what Bran would have wanted.”
Faith had never been my strong suit. I kept thinking Bran would have wanted to be alive. But his point was taken. “Are you okay?”
He let me go and braced his palms on his lower back. He leaned backwards and then sprang into a deranged fighting pose. “I’m not dust just yet.”
“Give it a couple of minutes. Maybe Emily will show up and I’ll blow us all to smithereens.” This was muttered under my breath as we walked a little distance from his front door.
“Ah. I heard about the human. It’s a very odd affliction. Normally, visions aren’t triggered by one person or thing. And the recipient has random visions, not anything so specific. Has she said anything to you?”
I snorted. “She won’t come anywhere near me.” Given I tended to go boom in all of her visions, I could understand why. I told him as much.
The professor frowned. “No vision is without flaws. Just like no prophecy is completely accurate. In any case, we should try to sort truth from fiction. That can only be done if you’re in contact if that’s what triggers her.”
“Until the elite guard can establish a protocol around her,” Tyler warned, “it’s best not to interfere with her movements.”
I made a face behind his back. The professor looked like he wanted to say more but thought better of it. “Let’s start the lesson.”
At least Tyler wasn’t one of those guards who hovered. He stalked back closer to the house and sat down in the grass to give us space.
The professor ushered me just a little farther away. He scratched at one of the scars on his forehead absentmindedly. “Never in my lifetime did I think Bloodline would need military guards.” He caught himself when my face fell. “I didn’t mean –”
“It’s okay. How were you supposed to know that Lucifer would try to make scions to break himself out of his imprisonment?”
More head scratching. “It does present a conundrum.” He dropped down onto the grass and crossed his legs. I mimicked his gesture. “It concerns me there could be others out there.”
I plucked at the strands of grass. “The thought had crossed my mind. But Michael says even if there were, unless something happens to trigger their connection to him, they should be safe.”
He mulled this over. “I suppose in order to release Lucifer, the person has to at least know and believe in the existence of the supernatural. I understand the ritual is about choice. Free will and the strength of mind to bear that. Our new student is a prime example of why that so often fails.”
The question that had been bugging me reared its ugly head. “What do you think it was about me that made me like this?”
“What is it about anyone that makes them who they are?” The professor gathered his hands in his lap. “I suppose we could objectively theorise that your great-grandmother had much to do with the outcome of your life. But at the end of the day, she couldn’t and hasn’t been able to shape the person you’ve become. You could have very easily diverged from this path while you were homeless.” He held me captive with his gentle brown eyes. “Be honest with me, when you were living rough, were there not times when you felt the power in your soul?”
I cast my mind back. Since learning of the supernatural world, I’d done everything I could to suppress those memories. But now that he mentioned it, maybe the fear and biting loneliness had always been bearable because they’d felt temporary. Like I was waiting for something and I only needed to stay alive until then.
“You’re worried there is something wrong with you because those who came before you didn’t survive.” It was a statement that hit me right where I hid away all my worst fears. The professor placed his hand on my shoulder. “There is nothing wrong with wanting to live, Alessia.”
I swallowed, my thoughts settling on the visions Emily kept dredging up. “What if me living causes other people’s deaths?”
“
What if you living saves people?” He paused and contemplated. “That’s not even a question. You’ve saved people already.”
“The prophec –”
“Is all conjecture. That’s why so many have seen it in vastly different forms.”
“Does that mean you don’t think I’m destined to release Lucifer?”
This time, he wasn’t so quick to assure me. It was the reason why I’d waited to speak to him specifically. Professor Mortimer had always been honest with me. Even if it meant saying something difficult. “We all make mistakes, Alessia. It’s how we go about trying to fix them that defines who we are.” He scratched his beard. “On that topic...what happened in the Grove this morning...”
I blanched. Honestly! Gossip really travelled fast around the supernatural community.
“Not my finest hour.”
The professor smiled. “Let’s get some work done, shall we? I think our guard is becoming suspicious that this is nothing more than a chat session. I assume Jacqueline has explained to you why you’re here?”
“Too dangerous to have in a classroom.”
“Alessia. I hardly think that’s what she meant.” That was about as far as he went in terms of chastisement. “However, it is partly true. Your abilities have grown far beyond what we normally teach. I’ll be honest, there are things you’re able to do that we had deemed impossible. It makes trying to broaden your education somewhat difficult.”
“Somewhat?”
There was a glint in his eyes when I tipped my head up. It was the unrepentant fervour of a man who took his greatest pleasure in knowledge. “You’re going to Frankenstein me, aren’t you?”
He grinned. “We might forgo the surgical part. Of course we would have to be very cautious. I’ve spent some time upgrading the protections around the cottage.”
“Did you actually get permission for this?”
“The board were not supportive at first. But then the elite guard did a little arm twisting and here we are.”
“What kind of experimentation are we talking about?” It was one thing to be part of progress, but things tended to explode when I was involved.
“I understand you’ve been trying to strengthen your circles in the hopes of one day containing a celestial unmaking.”
My gaze darted to his face. A solemn expression had etched into his normally pleasant features. Whenever I mentioned my plans to an adult, the result was usually a lecture about prevention being better than a cure. I agreed. The problem was that I kept getting bombarded with images of what came after prevention no longer prevailed. “Professor?”
“We cannot allow the demons to trespass any further into this dimension.”
In his suddenly stark gaze, I saw the truth. He’d been possessed by a demon. If Lucifer were ever set free, there was no way he would kill Professor Mortimer. Not when he was such a powerful vessel. What Lucifer could make Professor Mortimer do was unthinkable.
“Okay. I’m on board.”
A smile lit up his face. “Excellent. How much do you know about meditation?”
Oh for goodness sake!
He spent the rest of the lesson trying to teach me to control my breathing while I almost died of boredom.
15
Two years in supernatural society and I still couldn’t read a room properly. When I hustled into Supernatural Species Integration, my expectation was rowdy joking. What I got were sobering glances from an utterly orderly room.
“You guys know this is just glorified Sex Ed, right?” I shot at Trey and Diana.
“It’s not just about sex.” Diana flipped open her textbook. Both of their faces were dead straight. I kept thinking at any moment, they were going to yell surprise!
“You of all people should understand how serious this class is,” Sasha commented as he took the seat next to Trey.
“Actually. This class is pointless for me. I don’t even know why I have to be here.”
There was no need for them to trade pitying glances. They suddenly got busy staring at their feet. It was like they thought I might burst into tears at any given moment. That only happened once!
Speaking of integrations, Isla appeared in the doorway. She shot me a withering look when she spotted where I was sitting which was in the middle of the room. After lingering for a second, she motioned behind her. Emily and the Evil Three entered at her back. I had thought white was the perfect foil for Emily’s light colouring, but today she was in jeans and a black blouse. Her hair was practically glowing. Her expression, however, was sullen. If somebody breathed in her direction, she might faint again.
Isla made a beeline for me.
“Can you switch with Orla?” she said before I could get a word in. The sprite had arrived early and taken the seat in the back corner of the room.
“Are you serious?” My gaze flicked to Emily who was doing her best to blend into the wallpaper.
“I’m at my wits end with her.”
Sasha snickered. “It has been less than a week.”
If looks could kill, Sasha would be writhing on the floor. “You think I don’t know that? This gig was meant to be about having input into student policy, not babysitting a human tissue.” The side of my desk cracked under the pressure of her grip. “She crumbles at everything. And I mean everything. Yesterday, Phoenix tried to lick her hand while we were in the billabong. Her scream almost deafened me. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. So, if you have any sympathy, you’ll move.”
“I haven’t done anything to her.” Despite my words, I was already gathering my things.
“There’s no difference between what you have done and what you can do.”
I begged to differ. But there was no arguing with Isla when she was in this kind of mood. I was better off throwing a punch at her. Sadly, that would probably just prove Emily’s point.
Orla was none too happy about the switch either. But she didn’t kick up too much of a fuss. Especially once Sophie arrived and sat next to her.
I was just begrudgingly setting up my desk when the quiet conversation came to an end. The sound of claws on stone could be heard down the hallway. Doctor Thorne’s steps were unhurried as he lumbered into the room. Draped over his shoulders was his uniform white lab coat.
He dropped his textbooks onto the professor’s desk and turned to us. Normally, the professors liked to lean or sit on the desk when they taught us. But Doctor Throne had a tail and that didn’t really make sitting comfortable. He turned out to be a pacer. “Let me start off by making it clear that this is not some glorified version of sexual education.”
Alright! There was no need for all the “I told you so” stares from half the room. I had plenty of returned rude gestures to go around. “Alessia.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re all old enough now to understand the repercussions of sexual interactions.” Why was I the only one finding it difficult to keep a straight face? “Please open up your textbooks to page twenty-three. I want to start with the basics of supernatural procreation. Who can tell me why most supernaturals have difficulty conceiving?”
Even I knew that one. Orla was happy enough to offer the answer when Doctor Thorne pointed to her. “We weren’t meant to exist in this dimension,” Orla said. “The conditions here interfere with our life force.”
“That’s right.” He paced. It was beginning to make me dizzy. “And why is it particularly difficult for different species of supernaturals to cross integrate?”
He nodded at Sasha. “Because we weren’t meant to ever have interacted.”
“Exactly. The fall of the dimensional barriers has been a disaster in many ways. We now exist in a state that should have never happened. Learning how this affects us will be the only way we can continue to survive.”
His tail wound into a coil that functioned as an anchor. It allowed him to lean back as though he were sitting on a stood. Interesting. “Raise your hand if you know more than three other families who have cross-mated with o
ther species.”
Many raised their hands, including me. “Now lower your hands if one of those families is the Thompsons.”
Everyone lowered their hands. “That’s hardly fair,” Dev said. “Everybody knows the Thompsons.”
Doctor Thorne leaned forward. “The Thompsons are an anomaly. Alastair Thompson is descended from the first line of Thracian shifter warriors. It makes his lineage stronger than most. Shayla Thompson is a disciple of the Mother, a fertility goddess. Even with these advantages, conception has been sporadic for them. There are lengthy age differences between their children. Longevity is the only thing that levels the playing field for us.”
“How do you explain these two?” Sasha nodded his head between Diana and Roland. Even I forgot most of the time that they were twins.
“Aedan Pierce is world renowned for his love of mead,” was Doctor Thorne’s quicksilver response.
“Hey!” Diana shouted. When the laughter died down, Doctor Thorne grew contemplative.
“I understand the birth was difficult.”
Roland’s face screwed up. “I came out first. Diana didn’t make an appearance for forty-three hours.”
“Come again?” Sophie sputtered. “How long was your mother in labour for?”
“In total? Seventy-two hours.”
Hell no. Being barren was starting to present a silver lining. “You might never have been with us at all, is that correct, Diana?”
She grimaced. “Ma was pretty exhausted. When it looked like she might not make it, Da had to petition Seraphina for a Nephilim healer.”
“How many others have heard of Raphael’s line needing to step in with a birth?” Several hands lifted into the air. I gulped. Yet another thing the world would be robbed of if Raphael’s line ended.
Doctor Thorne continued. “Of those families you know, how many of them involve a human mate?”