INTEGRATION (Bonfire Academy Book Two) (Bonfire Chronicles)

by Imogen Rose

  “Sit down,” she ordered.

  I decided that she must have known already by the lack of emotion on her face. Or perhaps she’d guessed by the foul shifter smell—to my demon nose anyway—that surrounded Mason. I looked over at Professor Bern. From her deadpan expression, she had known also.

  Quinn and Jagger, on the other hand, looked surprised, even though they had both met the female version of Mason.

  Mason smiled sweetly at me as she sat, daintily tucking her feet under the chair. If the sudden switch in sex was meant to fluster The Smelt, the maneuver failed.

  The Smelt stared unflinchingly at Mason. “Tell us about the poem you wrote for Faustine.”

  Mason shrugged. “Poem?”

  “Yes, the haiku.”

  “Hai—what? I don’t even know what that is,” she said, her voice taking on a sullen tone.

  “This!” The Smelt waved the note in Mason’s face.

  Mason shrugged again. “Nothin’ to do with me.”

  “You didn’t write it?”

  “Nope. And my dad’s supposed to be here for all interrogations, remember?”

  The Smelt shifted uncomfortably in her chair, leaning back and adjusting her already perfect hair bun. “Your father is on his way.”

  “Good. Can I go in the meantime?” Mason stood up and turned to walk to the door.

  “Yes, but you are restricted from any contact with Faustine. Understood?”

  Mason did an about face and, in a flash, was nose to nose with The Smelt. Make that beak to nose, as Mason had partially transformed into an eagle. Her mouth was still human as she viciously hissed, “My dad practically owns this dump, so don’t be threatening me.” Then, she instantly turned into a mouse.

  I yelped and jumped up on my chair. I was scared to death of mice, not that I came across many. What the heck happened? Why would she turn herself into a mouse?

  Professor Bern swooped past me, picked up the Mason mouse, and stuck it in the ornamental glass bowl on The Smelt’s desk. “No point in trying to escape.” She waggled her finger at the rodent. “If you do, I won’t break the spell, and you can be a mouse for the rest of your life. You should know better than to be insolent in front of your head mistress, silly little being.”

  “Thanks, Edna.” The Smelt walked over and peered at Mason. “I was about to teach her a lesson of my own, but this is much more manageable.”

  “I figured.” Professor Bern belly laughed. “Count yourself lucky, Mason.”

  I stepped down from the chair I had sought refuge on, noticing Quinn trying to suppress a laugh at my silliness. “You spelled her?” I asked in awe.

  Professor Bern nodded. “She gave me no choice.”

  I was impressed by her incredible power, casting a spell on a transforming, vicious shifter, turning her into a mouse. Instantly. I hadn’t heard even the murmur of a chant.

  “What now?” I asked, still staring at Mason. Her twitching little nose was icking me out. There was no reading what she was thinking inside that little head of hers, not without demonizing her, and I didn’t think I’d ever be ready to try that with a mouse.

  “She can stay on my desk until her father arrives. At least she won’t get trampled.”

  The mouse squealed.

  “She can’t get up to much mischief from there. However, she can still hear and understand us, right, Edna?”

  Professor Bern nodded.

  “In that case, Quinn, could you take the bowl out to Mrs. Stone, please?” The Smelt asked.

  Once Mason was out of earshot, The Smelt waved for us to sit down again. Then she paced the room, her mouth twitching as though she wanted to say something, but she kept striding in silence.

  Jagger, Quinn, and I glanced at each other and shrugged, not daring to speak.

  Professor Bern finally broke the silence. “Frau Schmelder?”

  The Smelt came to an abrupt halt and looked over at us, seeming slightly out of sorts. She removed her glasses and placed them carefully on the desk behind her. Then she cleared her throat, throwing her hands up in the air. “I must admit that I’m momentarily unable to decide what to do next.”

  Wow. Indecision was not something I’d seen from her. She could just squash the mouse. That was what I’d do.

  Professor Bern adjusted her collar, clearly surprised as well. “Well, let’s discuss the situation a bit more. It may help us come up with a solution.”

  “Maybe,” The Smelt murmured. “Right at this second, we have the child of one of our biggest donors ever sitting in…a bowl. And his… her father is on his way. Not the least bit happy, as you can imagine. In the meantime, I have the demon king of London’s daughter’s life being threatened. So any comments or suggestions would be greatly appreciated.”

  Squash the mouse! Instead of saying that, I turned and asked Professor Bern the question that had been gnawing at me. “Did you know about Mason’s ability to change sexes?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Well, you didn’t look surprised.”

  “Interestingly, neither did you. Mason’s ability to control the choice of his sex was revealed to me during his Initiation sessions.”

  “What else was revealed?”

  “Ah, those sessions are confidential, as you know, so I can’t talk about it here.” She cast a glance at Jagger and Quinn. “However, since you’ll be working with Mason, what you need to know is in the files Henri gave you.”

  “Surely we need to have that information available to us as well.” Jagger voice was laced with anger. “How else are we supposed to effectively protect Faustine?”

  Frau Smelt nodded. “Edna, I think we have to make an exception. Although Mason denies knowledge of the note, it seems highly likely that he’s involved, especially considering the history from last year. We don’t have any proof, though. So at the moment, all we can do is increase the security around Faust—”

  “What’s going on?” The booming voice belonged to a four-hundred-pound brute in a green Dior suit. The man in the suit had stormed into the office, clearly furious, squinting at The Smelt, his lips set in a snarl. “Well?”

  “Sit, Monsieur Drasco,” Frau Schmelder said, her tone calm.

  “I’m not here to sit!”

  I was having a hard time suppressing my giggles. Shifters hated to be told to sit. They were insulted by any connotation to dogs. And by the stench, I had to assume that we had a shifter in the room.

  Monsieur Drasco straightened his tie and twirled his handlebar moustache, looking around at us. “I apologize. I didn’t realize that you had company.”

  “Let me introduce you,” Frau Smelt said. “You know Professor Bern, and—”

  Mason’s father held up his hand. “With due respect. You dragged me out of a meeting because you said it was urgent, that Mason had threatened someone, that you were questioning him? Where is he?”

  “I’ll go and get her,” Professor Bern said, getting up.

  “Her? What are you talking about? Mason. I’m here for Mason. My son.”

  “Um, yes.” Professor Bern looked flustered. “That’s what I meant to say. Sorry. I’ll go and get him.”

  Interesting. Mason’s father wasn’t privy to his sex-changing ability. I couldn’t wait to see his face when his daughter walked through the door because surely Professor Bern wouldn’t bring him in as the rodent.

  But she did. Gross. In she strutted, holding the glass bowl in her fully extended arms. I couldn’t contain my chuckles any longer and let out a muffled yelp of mirth.

  Frau Smelt shot me a death glare, which she then directed at Professor Bern. “Um, Edna?”

  “You want me to undo the spell?”

  “Spell?” M. Drasco grimaced.

  “Well, I did, but on second thought, it may be best to deal with this under the current circumstances.”

  “What are you talking about?” M. Drasco asked, raising his voice.

  Professor Bern held out the bowl to him.

  He look
ed down into it, rubbing his chin. Then he looked up at Professor Bern a blank look in his eyes. “I’m not hungry. I asked for Mason, not a snack.”

  The look of horror in Professor Bern’s eyes was unmistakable as she hastily withdrew the bowl from under M. Drasco’s nose. “It’s not a snack.”

  Before Professor Bern could react, M. Drasco reached into her bowl and pulled the squealing mouse up by its tail. He sniffed it.

  “Put it down!” Frau Smelt shouted. “Do. Not. Eat. Him!”

  “Eh? First you offer me a snack and then you tell me not to eat it?” He pursed his lips.

  “Just put him back in the bowl. It’s not…edible,” Frau Smelt spluttered.

  I was overcome by yet another tickle of giggles, which I tried my best to suppress. But failed.

  M. Drasco turned to me. “And who are you?”

  “Cordelia. King Pierre’s daughter.”

  “Oh.” He turned back to Frau Schmelder. “Where’s Mason? Now that you’ve prevented me from enjoying the snack I was served, may I see my son?”

  She blinked and pointed at the bowl. “That’s Mason. He’s being punished.”

  M. Dracso shook his head. “What?”

  “The mouse…is Mason,” she said.

  I stifled a snort.

  “What?” Monsieur Drasco repeated, scratching the back of his head.

  “We asked Mason to come in for a chat while we waited for you. He was insubordinate and rude, so he’s being punished,” The Smelt explained.

  “You turned him into a mouse?” he yelled. “A mouse! I nearly ate my own offspring?”

  That was a gross thought, but wasn’t that what those shifters did anyway? Ate mice? Maybe not. What kind of snack could a tiny mouse be for a four-hundred-pound shifter, anyway?

  He walked over and took the bowl from Professor Bern. “Mason?”

  The mouse squeaked.

  “Monsieur Drasco, I assure you that I wouldn’t have let that happen,” The Smelt said, her tone soothing. “As for the punishment, yes, Mason has been spelled into a mouse. It’s just temporary, and Professor Bern will break the spell when we feel it’s appropriate.”

  “Now is appropriate. And can you tell these children to leave?” He waved at me and Jagger. “They shouldn’t be here.”

  “They’re actually all involved with Mason, and they are part of the school staff.”

  “Involved? How? And before we go any further, break the damn spell. Now.”

  “Cordelia is Professor Bern’s apprentice, Jagger is mentoring Mason, and—”

  “Mentoring? Mason is an Integrate; he doesn’t need a mentor. Now, break the spell.”

  “Professor Bern, could you remove the spell for now? Please understand, Monsieur Drasco, that we asked you here because we are worried that Mason is getting involved in—”

  “Please!” he interrupted. He, like the three of us, was transfixed as Professor Bern murmured under her breath. Apparently breaking the spell was more complicated than casting it. The mouse had gone completely still, and then it fell down, twitching its nose as its head landed on the glass. Then it went silent. Shit. Maybe it was dead.

  “What’s happening?” Monsieur Drasco shouted and then poked the mouse’s stomach.

  Professor Bern ignored him and kept chanting.

  The mouse suddenly squirmed and, in a flash, transformed into an enormous eagle, breaking the bowl into thousands of glass shards. Mason flapped his wide wings, flying all over the cavernous office, knocking down everything in his way. Books crashed off of Frau Smelt’s bookcase as she ducked to avoid the bird. We all kneeled down on the floor to avoid the angry eagle, who seemed hell-bent on doing as much damage as possible. Mason flew across The Smelt’s desk, sweeping everything off it. Sheets of paper flew everywhere.

  “Monsieur,” The Smelt shouted. “Control Mason, or I will have to!”

  Jagger had slid over to the window and popped it open. Quinn then proceeded to throw stuff at Mason, forcing the bird toward the window. We all breathed a sigh of relief when he finally flew out the window.

  Before I had a chance to take another breath, something knocked me over. In the scramble that followed, all I could make out was another eagle taking off through the window. Monsieur Drasco had left the building.

  “Go find me that eagle!” Frau Smelt barked. “Don’t apprehend him, just find him and report back. Now!”

  “Cordelia, a moment, please?” Jagger had come up behind me and grabbed my shoulders. He turned me around and started ushering me up the corridor.

  “Hey! What’s up?” I had meant to call Mom to try to find out some more about Monsieur Drasco. Jagger didn’t say anything, but he tightened his grip around my waist as we walked side by side. I couldn’t help but push up against him, goose bumps making me shiver slightly.

  He rubbed my back with his thumb, steering me toward his old office. He walked me past it and then up a set of steps to the top of the tower. There was just one door on the landing. We walked through to what I assumed were his new living quarters.

  “Nice!” I did a 360˚ turn to take in the breathtaking view of the snow-tipped mountains of St. Moritz out the bare floor-to-ceiling windows that surrounded the round room.

  “Yeah, and there’s more down those stairs.” He pointed to a metal railing at the other end of the room. “Down there is my closet, a weight room, and bathroom. Pretty awesome, isn’t it?”

  I walked over and peered down the narrow spiral staircase. “Yes. How did you manage to get this room?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t bring you up here to show off my room.”

  I figured. When Quinn, Jagger, and I had been brusquely dismissed by Frau Schmelder, Quinn rushed off to check on Faustine, while Jagger went to look for Mason.

  “Did you find Mason?” I turned and gazed into his eyes—which was always a dangerous place to go—dangerous, but exciting.

  “Come here.”

  I walked over slowly, enjoying the feeling of getting closer and closer with every step, until I was inches from him. We stood like that for a while, enjoying fighting the forces that were pulling us together, until Jagger closed the distance, sending that surge of excitement through me. I felt his pounding heart through the silky material of his white shirt, and I lay my ear against it, relishing the warmth of his skin. His chin rubbed against my head as he ran his hands up and down my back. I was home.

  “I didn’t find him. I was going to ask you to help me look, but I just wanted you to myself for a few moments first.” He slid his nose down to my neck, sending shivers of anticipation up my spine. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Cut it out, Jagger,” I whispered. “Unless you want to play.”

  “Hmm, play sounds fun, but Bern would turn us into mice if we don’t do what she asked.”

  I laughed. “Yup, we better go before she comes looking for us.” I squirmed out of his grip, my entire body still on fire.

  “To be continued,” he whispered, pulling my hair away from my face and gently kissing my cheek.

  I grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door.

  “Why were you with Quinn last night?” he asked as we walked back down the tower stairs.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Quinn and you at the reception.” He clenched down on his jaw.

  “He came over to get me for the reception. He is my boyfriend. Is that why you didn’t come over and talk to me?”

  Before I could take a breath, Jagger had me pinned against the wall, his face clouded over in fury.

  “Easy now, faery,” I warned. “I am a demon.”

  “I told you to get rid of him. What about that don’t you get?” he hissed.

  “Let go of me.”

  He loosened his grip slightly, but still had me in a firm hold.

  “Actually, Jagger, I don’t get any of it.”

  “We’re synched.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know. Thing is, I’ve been dating Quinn for ages. I can’t just dump him. And I
don’t know that you and I would be good together, apart from physically. I mean, you’re a faery. I don’t know anything about faeries, really. Don’t you guys live in Neverland or somewhere? I don’t think I’d like to do that.”

  Jagger chuckled, then erupted in guffaws, holding his tummy as he bent over laughing. Tears streamed down his face.

  I slid down the wall to kneel on the floor and waited until he got control over himself. “What’s so funny?”

  “This! That you’re questioning your destiny because you’re unsure of where you want to live! We’ll live wherever you want—Paris, London, Nepal, the moon, you name it.” He’d stopped laughing.

  “I don’t know anything about you.”

  “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, but not right now. We really do have to go.”

  “What if I don’t like what I hear?”

  He turned around, his face inches from mine. “It won’t matter. You’re mine.” He pulled me to my feet. “Come on, we better go.”

  We took the stairs in silence, with so much still to say, to figure out. But it wasn’t the time. We’d been asked to find Mason and then report back to The Smelt. We headed to Mason’s dorm room first, in the shifter wing. The place smelled so bad that I had to pinch my nose as we walked up the steps to the fourth floor. There was, of course, no way Mason was going to be in his room, but the list of places The Smelt asked Jagger to check had Mason’s room on the top of it.

  “Didn’t you check his room already?” I asked Jagger.

  “I did, but I want to check again in case he’s back after flying around to calm down.”

  “Seems like a bit of a waste of time.”

  “Maybe. But I’ve been hanging out with Mason a lot. His father is adamant that he graduates now that he’s managed to get him back here. I’m pretty sure that M. Drasco will force him back to his quarters, and then probably take him back to The Smelt. I’ve just got to find out where he is and let The Smelt know, that’s all.”

  I heard raised voices coming from Mason’s room as we approached. Jagger grabbed my shoulder, bringing me to a stop one door away from Mason’s. The shouting voice was definitely M. Drasco. Reading his son the riot act, no doubt. I heard an unfamiliar voice, an elderly female from the sound of it, definitely not Mason’s. I looked up at Jagger, raising my eyebrows, wondering if his sense of hearing could make out whom it was.