by Wendi Wilson
“What? He wasn’t doing any such thing.”
Shaela shrugged, her mouth dropping open with a yawn.
“The point is, Grandfather thought it was happening, and that’s why he brought everything out into the open. I tried to tell him there had to have been a better way to do it, but he wouldn’t back down from his stance. Something about ripping off a Band-Aid, whatever that means.”
“Did he tell you how he even knew who Cris is?”
“I asked him, and he was pretty cryptic about it. He just said that he’s been out on his own for a long time, and he’s seen a few things…and that he’s old enough to see through a young Fae’s Glamour, no matter how strong they think they are.”
I puffed a breath out through my mouth before slouching back onto my own bed and laying down. It had been a long night, and with Shaela back in our room safe and sound, all the nervous energy coursed right out of me.
Throwing an arm across my eyes, I asked, “Have you talked to anyone else? How are they handling everything?”
I’d been holed up in Cris’s office, then Easton brought me straight to my room. We hadn’t passed anyone along the way, and he’d wanted to take me to his room instead, but I’d insisted I needed to wait for Shaela. Alone. He’d put up an argument, considering he and my father had practically decreed that I shouldn’t be left alone.
But I’d insisted I’d be fine in my own room, and he’d grudgingly left me there. But not until I swore I wouldn’t open the door for anyone besides Shae and that I’d not leave until he met me there in the morning. I’d accused him of being overbearing and misogynistic, and he’d placed a hand over his heart and told me nothing would stop him from trying to protect the ones he loved.
Then I caved because, honestly, my knees went a little weak and my heart melted at the sincere look in his eyes. And the worried blue of his aura. He wasn’t trying to order me around or control me. He was trying to ensure my safety so that we could both rest easy.
Plus, I didn’t really want to venture out on my own. Not without knowing what waited for me out there.
“Pretty much as you’d expected,” Shaela said, answering my question. “Some students are freaking out. Some are angry. Some are leaving.”
“Leaving?” I shouted, sitting up so quickly my head was spinning.
“Yes. A lot of students called their parents to tell them what happened. Some of the more intolerant Fae are pulling their kids out until Cris is gone. They won’t have their children subjected to the brainwashing of a Zephyr.” She paused for a moment, her eyes meeting mine. “Their words, not mine,” she clarified.
Our conversation trailed off after that as the events of the evening played over and over in my head. I was a little upset that Shaela was excusing her grandfather’s actions, explaining them away—he thought he was doing the right thing, so what? It was okay?
It would never be okay.
But I refused to make her choose between him and me. She was my best friend, the first person to get to know the real me and accept me, flaws and all. She never stopped believing in me, so I would continue to believe in her.
Even if we disagreed on the honesty and intentions of one Robin Goodman.
Chapter Seventy-Six
7
“I’ve been called to a meeting of the Sylph council.”
I looked at my father, eyes wide as they followed a trickle of sweat down his temple. He was nervous, and that made me nervous. The council had been known to be harsh in its decrees. Robin Goodman was living proof of that.
And this situation was potentially worse than what Robin had done to get himself ousted. The school was in an uproar, students withdrawing in alarming numbers. The Sylph community would not accept a Zephyr in their midst, no matter his intentions.
Oberon Academy was more than a school. It was a training ground for the Sylphid army. That army would eventually take on the Zephyrs with the goal of giving the Earth back to the humans. The school’s students would fill its ranks. If they all left…
“I’m coming with you,” I stated, my words filled with resolve.
“December, you can’t,” he said. “Students are not allowed to attend the meetings. Besides, if they plan on spewing hatred and venom, I don’t want you anywhere near it.”
“But—”
“No,” he cut me off, his tone heavy and commanding. Then, in a softer voice, he added, “Please, December, just listen to me. I can’t have you there. If they turn their attention to you and hurt you in any way, physically or emotionally, I will lose my temper. Doing so in their presence would be detrimental to me. They could have me executed.”
He was right. And he didn’t even mention what would happen if I lost my temper.
“Okay,” I acquiesced. “I’ll wait here for you.”
“Thank you,” he said, his lips turning up just enough to show a shadow of his dimples.
He took a step toward me then stuttered to a stop, lifting his arms before dropping them back to his sides. It seemed like he wanted to hug me, but was uncertain if it was appropriate. Or if I’d be receptive to the gesture. Even though we’d hugged before, our father-daughter relationship was still new.
I moved forward, slipping my arms around his waist as I laid my head against his chest. His arms wrapped around me, tightening to an almost unbearable degree before loosening slightly. His cheek rested against the top of my head for a brief moment before he leaned back, prompting me to meet his eyes.
“I’m going to be okay,” he vowed. “I promise. Everything is going to be okay.”
I wanted to argue, to tell him he had no idea what the council was thinking or what the outcome of the meeting would be. But I kept my mouth shut. We were having a bonding moment, and the last thing I wanted to do was to ruin it.
With one last smile and a tightening of the arms, he released me and took a step back. He smoothed a hand across his hair, which was its natural black instead of the reddish-blond his Glamour had made it appear. His eyes were still blue, though, which was probably a wise decision. His true eye color would be more off-putting than anything else.
And he needed all the help he could get.
“I’m here to escort you to the council meeting.”
I spun around at the sound of Easton’s voice. Relief filled me as my mind processed his words.
“You’re going? I thought students weren’t allowed.”
“They’re not,” he clarified as he stepped further into Cris’s office and gave me a quick hug. “But I am the future king. Grandfather has me attend some of the meetings so I can learn the ins and outs. One day, I’ll lead the meetings as he does.”
I nodded in understanding and with a quick peck against my lips, he turned to head out into the hall. Cris planted a hand on my shoulder and squeezed, giving me a reassuring smile before he, too, left the room. I was all alone with only my rampant thoughts and fears for company.
I curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace to wait.
An hour later, the door swung open and Cris stalked in, Easton hot on his heels.
“What?” I demanded, jumping to my feet. “What happened?”
“I’ve been removed from my position,” Cris gritted out, pacing across the floor. “Despite the fact that I’ve done nothing but teach to the best of my ability, preparing the students for a war against my own kind.”
“They’re making you leave?” I asked, fear racing through me as I clutched a fist against my chest.
“No,” Easton interjected. “Grandfather would not agree to make him leave you.”
Hope unfurled inside me, my eyes fling from Easton’s face to Cris’s, silently begging him to confirm the words. His mouth turned up as he nodded, the anger draining out of him as he pulled me into a hug. It held none of his earlier uncertainty, his arms strong and sure.
“I would never leave you, December,” he assured me. “I just found you, and wild horses couldn’t drag me away.”
I pulled back, tears
stinging my eyes, and gave him a confused look. “Wild horses?”
He chuckled, saying “It’s an old saying. Don’t you know what a horse is?”
I shrugged. “I’ve read about them in stories and seen pictures, but I’ve never heard that expression before. I like it.”
He squeezed me before pushing me back to an arm’s length. He studied my face for a few seconds then let his hands drop to his sides.
“Finn said I could stay here and continue our one-on-one training. I just have to steer clear of the other students. I can’t let them see me.”
“So, you’re like a prisoner? Hidden away from their tender sensibilities?” I spat, feeling very defensive on his behalf.
“It’s okay,” he said in soothing tones. “I expected worse. And all that matters is that I get to stay here with my feisty, talented, beautiful daughter.”
A smile broke out across my face against my will, his praise filling me with warmth. And I was glad he wasn’t being forced out. I had no idea what I’d do if that was the case. I just wished the council wouldn’t treat him like the enemy. He obviously didn’t fall in with the Zephyr queen’s plans.
“Wait,” I said, a thought occurring to me, “If you’re no longer teaching us, who’s taking over your class?”
My father’s eyes darted away from me, so I looked to Easton, whose cheeks were ruddy with color.
“What is it?” I asked, my eyes chasing back and forth between them. “Why are you guys acting like that?”
“It’s Puck,” Easton said. “Professor Goodman is our new sociology teacher.”
“What?” I shouted, anger and disbelief warring inside me. “What do you mean Puck is our new teacher? Wasn’t he ousted from the council? Why do they suddenly trust him to teach students?”
“Puck can be very persuasive,” Cris said with a scrunched expression.
“Do you think he used his gift against the council and made them…I don’t know, care for him? So they would agree to whatever he suggested?”
I looked from Cris to Easton, whose aura was a swirl of orange and maroon. He was annoyed and resentful, not appearing at all enamored with Shaela’s grandfather. Despite feeling relieved that Puck didn’t use his magic, I was confused. How did Puck get them to accept him? To install him as a teacher?
“I didn’t feel any magic,” Cris said.
“Glamour and other magical abilities are blocked in the council room,” Easton said. “Ancient wards have protected the space since its construction. Even if Puck wanted to use his abilities and was powerful enough to affect the feelings of the council, his emotional nudging wouldn’t hold up in that room.”
“So the council, with no persuasive magic, decided he was a better choice than my dad?”
Easton shrugged. “I’m afraid so.”
I deflated, exhaustion draining my energy. There was no point in being upset. It wasn’t going to change anything. At least my dad had permission to stay at the academy, with me.
“Okay, let’s look at the positives,” I said. “Dad gets to stay here and continue training me, rather than being banished—or worse. Puck is here where we can keep an eye on him. We need to figure out what his motives are and why he decided to come in and blow my life apart.”
“You need to tread lightly with Shaela,” Easton said. “I know she’s your best friend, but he’s her family. You have to be careful what you say to her about him.”
My first instinct was to argue. Shaela was my best friend, and I was up to me to knock some sense into her, even if I had to yell and scream to do it. But then I remembered my own situation and the indignation drained out of me.
“I understand,” I agreed.
I really did. Cris was a Zephyr and the son of Sebille, yet if someone were to insult him or question his motives, I would jump to his defense. No matter what. I was sure Shaela felt at least a little of that familial loyalty toward her grandfather, even though she’d just met him. I had to remain sensitive of her feelings, no matter my own.
It was going to be tricky, but I would find a way to figure out what Puck was up to without pissing off my best friend. I just had to be smarter than him.
And if I gave him enough rope, he just might hang himself.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
8
“Hey,” I whispered, turning in my seat. “With everything that happened, I completely forgot to ask you about your conversation with your dad. How did that go?”
We sat in our third period classroom, waiting for our new sociology teacher to make an appearance. He was late…and so was Shaela. I’d barely gotten two words in that morning before she muttered something about having an appointment and scurried out the door.
Easton shook his head in answer to my question. Then he scooted up and leaned over his desk, bringing his face close to mine.
“It was stupid, really,” he muttered in a low voice. “He said he’d heard I was dating a girl with human blood and he wanted to berate me, in private, for sinking so low.”
His look turned apologetic with those words, but I shook my head.
“Don’t worry, I won’t be taking anything that man says to heart,” I said, then immediately regretted my surly tone.
Even though I hated Easton’s father for the way he treated his wife and son, there may have been some flicker of hope inside Easton that one day, they could have a normal relationship. I hoped my negative attitude didn’t offend Easton.
He smiled, his expression and aura filled with pride. I smiled back, then cocked my head to the side.
“Everyone knows I’m half-Zephyr, not human. That’s been common knowledge for weeks, even before Puck’s big revelation at the dance. Wouldn’t your father know by now, as well?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know how quickly he acquires new information, or how accurate it is. I certainly don’t talk to him, or my mother, to let them know what’s going on here. Anyway, he pulled me out of the dance to yell at me, then, when he’d decided he’d insulted me enough, he left. I haven’t heard from him since.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but the classroom door flew open, distracting me. I spun around in my seat to see Shaela walk through the opening, quickly followed by her grandfather.
“Good morning, class.”
About a third of the class mumbled out disjointed greetings. Cris had never expected a response, and we’d grown used to not giving one.
A loud crack echoed around the room, startling me. I watched as Puck lifted the ruler in his hand into the air and brought it down on his desk once more, making sure all eyes were on him.
“When I greet you, you shall greet me with the respect due a teacher, an elder in the Sylph community, and a founding father of this academy.” He set the ruler down, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now let’s try this again. Good morning, class.”
“Good morning, Professor Goodman.”
I refused to respond with my peers, instead pinching my lips into a frown as I stared at him with narrowed eyes. I refused to let him intimidate me. I faced down Queen Sebille and even taunted her, calling her Granny, for God’s sake. I could handle the trickster.
A foot crashed into my ankle and I flinched, looking over at Shaela. She mouthed the word “stop” at me before refocusing on Puck. I stared at her profile, my mind running in circles. We’d barely spent any time together since the dance. She’d been so focused on getting to know her grandfather, our friendship seemed to be taking a back burner.
I shook my head to clear it and took a deep, cleansing breath. I didn’t want to be resentful of Shaela’s new relationship. He was her family and, despite appearing nonchalant whenever she’d spoken of him, I was sure meeting him and having him in her life was a big deal.
Just like me discovering Cris was my long-lost father was a big deal.
I could be patient and understanding. I could give her the time and space she needed to get to know him, to find some sort of balance between family, friends, and school. She’d alway
s been patient with me, always supportive. It was time for me to return the favor.
I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and glanced over to see Tiana peering over her shoulder at me. Her eyes were filled with glee as she raised her hand. As if she’d just been waiting for me to notice her before drawing attention to herself.
“Yes, Miss Avery,” Puck said in response to her gesture.
“Professor Goodman,” she said, projecting her smug voice so everyone could hear, “I would like to be the first to thank you for saving us from the treachery of that Zephyr imposter. I, for one, am extremely happy to have you here, imparting your wisdom upon us.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes and failed. When my vision cleared, I caught Puck’s gaze on me, a strange look on his face that vanished as soon as I noticed it.
“Why, thank you, Tiana,” he said, his voice a little more pompous than usual. “I truly appreciate your kind words and shall remember you when I am in need of assistance of any sort.”
“I’d be honored, sir,” she replied, her cheeks turning pink.
“Of course, my dear. In the art of kowtowing, you are an expert.”
I tried to stifle a laugh at his thinly-veiled insult, but my efforts resorted in a harsh snort that echoed through the room. “Kowtow” was an old human term, one used in a lot of the historical novels I’d read, that meant to suck up or kiss-ass.
I froze as all eyes turned toward me, some gazes narrowed, some wide with question.
None of my fellow students seem to know what it meant, particularly Tiana, who stared at me with murder in her eyes. Like I’d stolen her thunder and taken the focus off of her and the so-called praise she was getting from our new teacher.
I schooled my features and returned my attention to Puck. His eyes crinkled at the corners with humor, then quickly smoothed out as the other students shifted their gazes from me back to him.