by Kirah Nyx
“I think it is a coincidence,” Addie disagreed. “I believe that you believe you saw a paw print. This is all easily explained. Just try and hold out until your ban is over, or go to Coach Aldon and tell him what’s been happening. This ban, it’s not good for you, Ivy.”
Thinning her lips, Ivy nodded and swerved her stare to the trees above. A phoenix perched itself atop a thin branch and looked down at the Vampires blankly. It appeared to missing most of its feathers and part of its beak. Then again, it was high up, so it was difficult to tell.
“Come on,” said Addie. She wrapped her fingers around Ivy’s wrist. “Let’s go back. You can still squeeze in a couple of hours sleep before class tomorrow.”
Ivy allowed Addie to escort her through the forest and back into the Academy. However, Ivy had no intention of returning to the Vampire chambers and admitting defeat. She was adamant to prove her claim, so next destination was obvious.
In the library, Ivy walked through the rows of desks toward the far sections with a bounce in her step. It wasn’t a merry walk, but a determined one. She was determined to find an explanation as to what she saw, or if she saw it at all. There was no doubt about it—Ivy was beginning to mistrust herself and her sanity. After all, how could a marking so wide and deep in the soil disappear? It was baffling and, quite frankly, infuriating.
No, she thought. I saw what I saw. The bush shook—something was behind it. It wasn’t a hallucination.
Renewed determination radiated from her pores, showed in her raised chin, and paraded in her brisk steps. Each step had her ringlets bounce around her driven features, and her fingers curled up into fists. Memories of deep, low, threatening growls in the quiet foyer of the Academy willowed through her focused mind; tales of the Shifter attack in the Alps echoed in her ears; recollections of those orange eyes staring at her from the forest into her dorm flashed repeatedly in her eyes.
It all came together in that moment. The mysterious disappearance of the paw print was simply the final indication. There was a Shifter on campus. But now, she had to prove it.
Ivy halted to a stop as a voice rang out through the otherwise silent library, and disrupted the calm ambiance.
“Ivy?”
Whirling around, Ivy saw the friend emerge from an adjoining aisle. Penny appeared considerably fatigued and hungry; her fingers were stained with ink, and her usually short and sleek white hair was dishevelled with bits of leaves and twigs stuck in matted clumps.
“What’re you doing here?” asked Penny curiously.
“I was going to research … something,” she replied ambiguously. “You?”
“Catching up on some homework,” explained Penny. “What are you researching?”
Ivy noticed a patch of dirt smeared onto the corner of her lips. She hummed and scanned her friend’s peculiar appearance. “What’s with all that?” Ivy gestured to the dirty dress she wore. “Were you in the woods?”
“The grottos,” she replied. “Finishing off my artwork for class. Some Fae thought it would be hilarious to have vines pull me into a ditch.”
“Oh.” Ivy nodded. “I’ll let you get to it, then.”
“Hang on a sec,” said Penny before she disappeared into the aisle she came from. Ivy stood there for a few seconds until Penny reappeared with her school books and. “I’ll come with you. It’s kind of creepy in here.”
Ivy led the way through the rows of shelves to the deserted section. The Shifter section of the library was considered somewhat taboo among the other residents at the Academy, and its books were barely ever touched. Penny appeared to realise where they were headed once they walked straight into the ‘Extinct Creatures’ aisles, for she scrambled a little closer to Ivy and shot her a questioning side-glance.
“Do we have an essay on the Loch Ness Dragon I don’t know about?” Penny asked curiously. But, the trepidation laced her tone, and revealed her unease.
“Nope,” she replied tightly, and veered into the desired aisles. They turned and stopped and weaved through the shelves for a few moments before finding a little cosy nook. Penny walked over to the beanbags on the floor and seated herself on them while Ivy went to the shelves.
“What exactly are you looking for?” Penny asked as she placed her art book on her bent knees and picked up a piece of charcoal.
“I don’t really know,” she said thoughtfully, slowly scanning the titles on the spines of the tomes. “Something that will show me paw prints, I guess.”
“Paw prints?” she repeated disbelievingly. “Why?”
“I saw a strange one out in the woods. I want to be sure what creature it was,” she said, and pulled out a book at random. She swiftly flicked through the pages. The book was useless, so she put it back and continued to search. “My guess?” she continued. “The animal, whatever it is, is old. I don’t recognise the tracks, so it’s gotta be old or rare, right?”
Bemusedly, Penny pointed at the far shelf with rotten and mouldy tomes littering it. “Try those over there.”
Ivy went over to the books and saw a metal plate screwed onto the shelf that read, HUNTING FOREST DWELLERS IN THE TENTH CENTURY.
“Good thinking,” she agreed.
Penny returned her attention to her homework as Ivy pulled random tomes off the grimy, rotten shelf and flicked through the crisp pages much too quickly. The age of the books demanded that she exercise care, but residue of her determination and adrenaline wouldn’t obey.
The quicker she read, the quicker she would learn about the mysterious sighting. And quick was precisely what she was in that moment; her index finger flicked the pages so rapidly that it was almost a blur of movement, and her white eyes darted from side to side so swiftly that they barely looked as though they had moved at all.
“I saw your brother at the lake,” said Penny. “He was stealing Fae magic.”
“Again?” Ivy frowned down at the book. “Where from?”
“The springs. He dunked a bucket-load of Banshee hair into it. He drained a lot of magic.”
Curiously, Ivy glanced up from the useless book. The springs was a smaller pool of water, separate to the lake. The naturally pink water produced eternal magic, and was totally off-limits to anyone but the Fae. It could almost be considered sacred.
“Wonder what he’s up to,” said Ivy. “He’s been stealing magic every time I’ve seen him since we got here. Samael, too.”
Penny hummed and sketched the grottos onto her artbook. Ivy decided that she could only manage one problem at a time, but promised herself that she wouldn’t forget to confront Felix about his misconducts.
Eventually, Ivy was left with three untouched tomes on the shelf to inspect. She plucked one at random; ‘The Pursuit of Happiness; How to Become an Expert in the Art of Massacre. The Shifter Edition, by Lord Boris Balthasar’. Rolling her eyes, Ivy couldn’t claim to be surprised. Boris Balthasar was a bigot to his core, and was the primary assailant in the eradication of the Shifters all those centuries ago. Their blood was — or had been — magical, best for dark enchantments, and their hearts were savoured by the Fae. They hadn’t stood a chance against the Arcane.
Flicking through the crisp beige pages, Ivy absentmindedly wandered over to Penny and joined her on the beanbags. It was only a few more minutes before Ivy found what she had been searching for.
“Penny,” she said, dragging her index finger down the crispy translucent page. “Look at this.”
Glancing up from her sketch book, Penny noticed the burning intrigue in Ivy’s eyes. The latter hadn’t taken her gaze away from the heavy and mouldy tome on her lap. She shifted closer to Ivy; the beanbag dipped to the side.
“What is it?” asked Penny.
“A paw print.” Ivy tapped her sharp fingernail against the sketched Shifter paw print. “It’s a bit smaller than the one I saw, but it’s very similar.”
“Paw prints tend to look the same, no matter what species it’s from,” said Penny. “The size is what matters, and you said yourself th
is picture is smaller than the one you saw. Maybe you saw the tracks of a bear? I heard they’re in the forest, so it’s possible, right?”
“I know what a bear track looks like, Penny. I’ve only been hunting them since I was ten.” Bristled, Ivy read the caption aloud, “This is an example of a female Shifter paw print, aged thirty-nine. Shifter tracks are different to those of regular wolves and other canine species. With Lycan tracks, the middle toes point forward, and the outer toes spread out one centimetre to the sides.”
“That’s what you saw?” asked Penny. “Two toes angled straight ahead?”
“I think so.” Ivy frowned, and tried to summon an exact memory of the paw print. “It says that this is an image of a female Shifter’s tracks. The male tracks are larger, because they are bigger in wolf form. The one I saw was bigger, so it could’ve been a male.”
“They’re extinct,” added Penny exasperatedly. “Have been for long before our time, and even our parents’ probably.”
Rolling her eyes, Ivy bit, “I know that, thanks. But it doesn’t stop Shifters changing into them.”
“Shifters can only turn into a creature they’ve seen in the flesh. It’s a part of their curse—three seasons in Videer form, if they choose. But the winter season, they’re stuck in creature form, vulnerable to greater predators.”
“True,” agreed Ivy, a sly smirk on her lips. “But, if they turned into animals they haven’t seen before, it would explain why they lose their skin and fur in the process. I mean, think about it. How many canines have you seen or even heard of that don’t have skin?”
Penny’s eyes rolled up to the ceiling as she thought hard. After a moment, she shrugged and said, “Other than the one that you dreamt about and the one in the Chronicle, I hadn’t heard about such a thing before.”
“Exactly,” said Ivy. “A mutation in transformation. Happens all the time to those with the spirit magic to change. Like Addie. A few years ago, she tried to turn into a duck. Only, she lost her beak in the process, and all her feathers. She’d seen ducks before, obviously, but she mutated. She was stuck like that for weeks, and had to go to the Sanatorium in the Alps for treatment.”
“And you think the Shifters are doing that? Changing into creatures they haven’t seen before?”
“It explains their weird appearance, and why that Fae at Stonehenge said she saw a skinless canine.”
“Why don’t we go and check out the paw print? Then you’ll know for certain.”
“It’s gone,” Ivy said, and met Penny’s surprised gaze. “I went back with Addie, but it wasn’t there. It was strange, though. The soil was so smooth and flat. It was like somebody had wiped it away before I came back.”
Penny licked her lips slowly as a pensive glint sharpened her eyes.
Carefully, as though afraid of injury, Ivy said, “You believe me.”
“I think I do,” she said, just as carefully. “It sounds mad, Ivy, it really does. But, you told me about the dreams you’ve been having, and then the same creature is reported in the Chronicle? A creature that doesn’t exist, mind you.”
She paused, sparing a moment to think. “So far, we know that Shifters have breached the borders of the Apricot Alps, Stonehenge Village, and Verato City.”
“And Ichor,” added Ivy.
“That’s not confirmed,” said Penny. “But I believe it was invaded. Either way, it’s a bit of a pattern, isn’t it? At least, there are connections between these events, your dreams, and this paw print you saw.”
“What should we do, then?” asked Ivy excitedly. She truly hadn’t expected Penny to believe her when Addie hadn’t. “Should we tell Houseparent Rowena?”
Penny considered it briefly before shaking her head. “No, I don’t think we should. At least, not until we gather a bit more evidence. All we have right now are dreams, a disappearing paw print, and an unsupported theory on metamorphosis.”
Ivy hummed and chewed her bottom lip. “You’re right,” she said between chews. “We should keep looking for clues until we have a strong enough case.”
“I have an idea where to start.” Ivy looked questioningly at Penny, who smirked and waggled her brows. “How good are you at manipulating your Videer?”
11
Ivy sat on the lumpy bean bags —stuffed with preserved pixie hearts and kidney beans — and flicked through the pages of old tomes lazily. She’d buried herself in the aisles of the Shifter section in the library, engrossed in the research of her blossoming theories. Ivy had been avoiding her usual nook in the library; the place where she would often encounter Domenic. Her bloodlust had darkened to an eternal sear at her throat and extended fangs. It was still manageable, that much she knew as she’d yet to attack anyone. But, it was easier to manage it if she wasn’t around temptations. If it took over completely whilst in Domenic’s presence, he wouldn’t be the man she fancied anymore—he would be the blood-suit she attacked.
But it seemed the Gods had other plans. He had found her.
His alluring, silky voice came from the adjacent opening between the shelves; “What a curious place for a Vampire to be. Although, you are a curious one, aren’t you?”
Slowly, Ivy lifted her gaze from the aged pages of the tome and met the black eyes of the new arrival. Domenic’s shoulder was pressed against the edge of the bookcase ahead. His hands were tucked in his pockets, his legs crossed at the ankles, and his lips wore a devilish smirk. Yet, the smirk clashed greatly with his hard stare, and Ivy didn’t need to be a genius to know he was upset—perhaps a little wounded by her evasion of him of late.
She folded the book shut and placed it on the floor. “Hey.”
“Hello,” he greeted curtly.
The smirk vanished from his pink lips.
Her hungry eyes flickered straight to the inviting features. The tingle of her fangs had her lips clamping shut.
Ivy ensured that he wouldn’t notice her fangs. Not because she was concerned about his reaction, but because she was concerned that he may realise the sheer severity of her hunger, and therefore, her appetite for his blood.
“You’ve found my new hiding place, then,” Ivy said, a whisper of humour in her tone.
“Indeed I have,” he said. “A pretty good one, I must admit. For who would venture into these forbidden aisles? It makes me wonder if it’s me you are hiding from.”
Ivy inhaled deeply through her nostrils before exhaling with a whoosh, causing her cheeks to puff out.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, and pushed himself from the bookshelf. His hands remained in his pockets as he steadily approached her, and came to stop a metre from where she sat on the bean bag. He looked down at her and frowned before he asked, “Did I offend you somehow? If so, I prematurely apologise for whatever I did.”
“No,” she snorted, and habitually picked at the lace frill atop her sock. “I’m just trying to stay away from people until I take my test at the end of the semester.”
Understanding swarmed in his eyes and he corrected, “Until you feed, you mean.”
Ivy nodded and continued to play with the frill on her sock. Domenic hummed and slowly dropped to one knee in front of her. His curled his index finger tucked beneath her chin and lifted. Her gaze was coaxed into meeting his. “You’re in bloodlust,” he observed, his eyes scanning her greying skin and stark white eyes. “Early stages, it seems. How long have you been experiencing this?”
She shrugged and tried to ignore the tingle of his finger against her skin. The light pulse of his heartbeat thrummed through the veins in his fingers, saliva gathered in her mouth.
Swallowing thickly, she said, “It’s not so bad yet, but I stayed away just in case. Videer are obviously the only ones at the Academy I can feed on. Not that I would do that…”
“How are you responding to me right now?” he asked, and observed her pure white eyes intently.
“I can feel your heartbeat,” she whispered shakily. “In your finger, I can feel it. I can smell the coffee ins
ide of you.”
Pensively, he nodded and removed his finger from the underside of her chin. He rested his forearms on his thighs as he remained crouched down in front of her. “That is all you can smell?” Her reply came in a sharp nod and a lick of the lips. “I had coffee an hour ago, so it’s fresh. I wouldn’t worry about it. If you were in a dangerous stage of bloodlust, you would’ve bitten me already. When do you take your test?”
“In two weeks,” she replied, still fiddling with the hem of her sock. It gave her something to distract herself with, as opposed to using her sharp nails to tear a hole in Domenic’s neck.
“You’ll be fine, drama queen,” he smirked, and ruffled her perfectly combed hair. She hissed. Domenic scoffed before he sat down on the beanbag next to hers.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll try and attack you?”
“Not particularly,” he replied, not without humour. “Even if you tried, I could stop you.”
“I love your modesty,” she said, and shifted to face him completely.
“It is my best quality, I’ve been told.”
Ivy beamed brightly, but immediately regretted it. The spreading of her lips into a wide grin showed her fangs. Domenic’s stare swerved to the fangs the moment they were revealed. His grin faltered. In fact, he appeared to almost frown at the pointed canines.
Ivy slapped her hand over her mouth and mumbled, “Sorry. I can’t help it.”
Slowly, he raised his gaze from her concealed fangs and met her eyes. He smiled tightly. “So why the Shifter section?”
“Huh?”
“Out of all places in the library,” he explained, “why this one?”
“Like you said, no one comes down this way.”
“There are many abandoned aisles in this library. The Boogeymen aisles, the Cyclops aisles, the Siren aisles, the Mermaid aisles, the Shifter aisles—”
Ivy dropped her hand from her mouth and butted in, “I get it. There are loads of places in the library I could’ve gone to.”