Forbidden Tutor

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Forbidden Tutor Page 14

by Chantal Cross


  There’s no other choice left, I have to take out Lucien.

  Spurred on by an awesome sense of self-preservation, I rush at him, my hands outstretched, aimed at his throat. If I can get my hands around there and choke the life out of him, he’ll never be able to tell anyone what he saw.

  “Seth, what the fu— get off of me!”

  I go tumbling backward when my feet come out from under me. Crashing to the ground, I knock my head and the room goes black.

  When I come to, Lucien is standing over me, peering down into my scrunched up face. Why is he looking at me like that? Wait, what am I even doing in here, this is Ebony’s room…? I begin to get up, Lucien stepping back as I do, however, his eyes never leave me. I can tell he doesn’t trust me, but I don’t understand why.

  Of course we’ve had our differences, and lately, they’ve been amplified more than ever. Yet I don’t think him dumb enough to attack me here, in Ebony’s room of all places. Even if he’s the bad guy and I’ve just found him, he won’t do anything too brutish, he’s not made that way.

  “Lucien… why did you attack me?”

  I shake my head to rid myself of the infernal buzzing ringing inside my skull. It feels strong enough to shake my brain. To my surprise, Lucien laughs at me, the sound hollow. Lifeless. He’s not amused by my response to us both being here.

  “Seth, have you lost your goddamn mind,”

  “Wha— ?”

  “You just attacked me! You full on looked me in the face and then ran toward me, your hands reaching for my throat.” I feel a bucket of ice-cold water being dunked over my head as I listen; none of what he says sounds familiar to me. “If you weren't so damn slow, I’d be dead by now.” To my relief, I spot the twinkle of humor in his eyes. However, alongside it sits caution, wisely placed by the sound of my recent behavior.

  Why can’t I remember any of this though?

  The last memory I have is of leaving Ebony on the roof. Oh my god, have I been gone that long? The thought of having been someone else for all these days since then horrifies me. I grab at my lips and tug at the skin there, immersed in my troubling thoughts.

  “Seth, what is going on?” Come Lucien’s next words, his attempt at getting answers appreciated even though I must seem so withdrawn. In all honesty, I’m surprised he still wants to be around me after my apparent attack.

  Turning my head up so that I can stare at the cracks in the ceiling, I’m not sure I have answers for him.

  “I truly don’t know,” It sounds like a coverup, and a poor one at that, but it’s true nevertheless. I just pray he can see, and hear, my honesty.

  “Oh, come on, there’s no way you don’t know!”

  “Lucien, I’m not screwing around, I genuinely don’t know what’s going on. The last thing I remember is leaving Ebony on the roof of the school — she was watching the stars and I wanted to join her, but she told me to leave.”

  “And that’s enough to turn you into a demented lunatic?” Lucien’s aghast when he asks this.

  “No you idiot, I’m not saying that. I’m saying that’s when I suddenly felt this change within me. I was angry, no, not just angry, I was livid. All this hatred for Ebony built up, encouraging me to get revenge on her, to make her pay… Then I wake up here and you’re pissed at me.”

  “Pissed is an understatement, I can assure you.” Lucien jokes. “Also, you’re starting to sound scarily like Wrath.” This time around, his speech isn’t playful, it’s drenched in worry. I don’t blame him, I’m worried too. I’m terrified.

  The comparison to Wrath is sickening to me; the man is a monster, his true self has been twisted into a furious shadow of who he used to be. He wears the face of a normal human being, he might even behave like one, but he’s far from it.

  I never want people to think of me like that, with such fear.

  Nevertheless, as much as I hate the comparison, I understand why Lucien’s made it: I do sound like a mini-Wrath in the making. Maybe my actions would have been far worse had I been one of the others, say Gabriel or Kashton. However, because of my slow reflexes, the transformation has taken longer to affect me. It’s nothing other than a vague theory I’ve quickly formed. However, given how easily Lucien shook the violence from me with one push, I feel I’m closer to the truth than either of us realize.

  If I am changing somehow, what does that mean for Ebony? All I’ve ever tried to do is to protect her, to keep her out of harm’s reach — even when it was only Cordelia snapping at her, I came to her aid. Ebony was my soulmate. To me, she still is. I’d never want to risk that by hurting her with my bare hands.

  I’m sick to my stomach just thinking about it.

  “I think we need to clean this mess up,” Lucien finally says, the silence broken. Even in spite of his mundane commentary, I’m glad of its intrusion. By having him speak of such trivial matters, I’m able to ignore how my hands brought about this disarray.

  Reaching down, I begin gathering up the fallen clothes. I spread my arms wide to try and bundle as many as I can back in their drawers. They won’t be folded when Ebony finds them, but hopefully their crumpled state won’t rouse too many questions.

  We work in silence for the most part, only the occasional sigh from Lucien alerting me to the fact that someone else is in the room still. I can tell he’s annoyed at me for doing this, however I also notice how he’s not scolding me either. It’s as if he’s managed to differentiate between the Seth who behaved that way and the one standing before him now.

  As my hands make the bed, Gabriel comes panting into the room. His body immediately doubles over as soon as he stops, allowing him to suck in lungfuls of air. Lucien and I both stare, the two of us confused by his breathless state.

  “Gabe, you’re a mess, and all sweaty — please tell me there’s a reason for it.” As sarcastic as ever, Lucien leads the interrogation.

  At last, Gabriel raises his head. But what I see is a broken man and a frightened boy all rolled into one. I look to Lucien for support, but he’s as troubled by this expression as I am.

  “Gabe, will you just say whatever’s on your mind, please.”

  “Cordelia… she’s…. she’s dead.”

  Inside my ears my heart pounds. It’s all I can hear. There’s no more panting from Gabriel, no witty remarks from Lucien, all that exists is the deafening rush of my blood. It’s pounding, banging like a relentless drum.

  For a couple of seconds, it keeps me composed. Then I crumble, my blank facade shattering into pieces as the weight of the news finally hits me.

  28

  Ebony

  “Hey, Ebony!” A student I don’t even know calls my name. She rushes up to me, her doe-eyes wide with concern. “I just wanted to tell you I’m so sorry for your loss. I can’t even imagine what you must be feeling. If you need anything, and I mean anything ̧ don't hesitate to ask.”

  “Thanks,” I murmur and step around her. She’s the fourth person to come up to me within the hour offering condolences and support. I’ve gone numb to it all.

  “Wow, that was rude,” I hear her mutter to her friends when she thinks I’m out of earshot. I didn’t believe her offer was genuine. She’s one of those people who think their proximity to tragedy makes them more endearing. She wants to brag to people about how she was there for the poor, sweet, orphan Ebony during such a difficult time.

  I have no desire to be part of her act.

  I place a muscle memory spell on my body to navigate me to my next class. I’m tempted to pull out the trusty concealment spell and sneak away. However, too many professors have caught on to my tendency to skip lessons. I have a nagging suspicion that Leo told them to keep an extra close eye on me.

  The professors for all of my morning classes were posted at the door of their rooms. They only moved inside once they confirmed that I was sitting in a seat.

  I know Leo thinks he’s helping but, more than anything, I just want to disappear for a little while. I’ll happily attend every class
if people will just stop staring at me.

  I move so quickly through the halls, dodging condolences left and right, that I arrive to my next class early. There’s no one in the room other than the professor. She looks pleased when I’m the first to grab a seat.

  “How are you, Ebony dear?”

  “Just fine, Professor Urla. Thank you,” I say without looking at her.

  “If you need anything, just let me know. I’d let you take the day off if I could. Unfortunately, you need to bring your marks up.”

  “I know,” I sigh. “I’m trying my best.” That wasn’t the whole truth. I don’t want to fail my courses but there are other, more pressing, matters that need my attention. I’ve been trying to decide what I should do about Wrath. He killed Cordelia. There’s no reason to think he won’t kill again.

  I have a few theories on why he killed Cordelia. The most logical of those theories is that Wrath knew Cordelia was my foster mother and killed her because he thought it would hurt me. He wouldn’t have known about our complex relationship. How could he have?

  When Leo first told me of Cordelia’s death, I went into shock. Now that the shock’s worn off, I don’t feel anything. Not grief, not angry. Just nothing.

  I hated Cordelia in the end. There’s no point in pretending I didn’t. She was awful to me all of my life. She was awful to Seth and Gabriel too. I can still give her the benefit of the doubt in some ways. I believe she believed she was doing the right thing. Now that she’s gone, I’m discovering that I never felt much for her other than a sentimental need for a mother figure.

  “Did you hear me, Ebony?” Professor Urla’s voice startles me out of my thoughts.

  “I’m sorry,” I shake my head. “I must’ve zoned out.”

  “I was just telling you about the extra study sessions I hold every Wednesday after class. I think if you came to one or two, you’d really benefit.”

  “Thanks, but I’m behind in all of my classes,” I say. “I need to work after hours on all of them.”

  “I’m trying to help you, Ebony.” Professor Urla looks at me with concerned filled eyes. “You’ve been slipping away these last few weeks, even before the accident.”

  “Murder,” I correct her. “We can call it what it is.”

  “Right.” She looks uncomfortable now. “My point is, you used to be surrounded by friends. You all look like you really cared about each other. I’m surprised to see you alone as often as you are. I’m worried.”

  I believe her. It’s hard not to while she’s looking at me like a wounded animal. I try to soften my expression.

  “I’m okay. Really.” She doesn’t believe me. It’s written all over her face. “I just need space to work through a few things. That’s all. I swear.”

  “Okay,” Professor Urla nods. “I was your age once too, believe it or not. I know there are some things you need to get through alone. However, if you ever need to talk my offer stands.”

  “Thanks, Professor Urla.” For the first time in a while, my smile feels genuine. It disappears the moment Gabriel strolls into class.

  “Hey,” he says softly as he takes the seat to my left. I nod in response.

  “We need to talk,” Gabriel presses when I don’t say anything.

  “I don’t want to talk right now,” I say.

  “Well, when are you going to want to talk?” He’s getting impatient.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Whatever.” Gabriel looks like he wants to say something else, but he goes silent when Seth walks in.

  “Ebony.” Seth’s voice is soft and gentle, just like he is. “Are you okay?”

  “I wish people would stop asking me that.” I shrink down in my seat.

  “We care about you. That’s all.” Seth takes a seat on my free side. My throat feels tight. My hands feel clammy. I don’t think I can sit here much longer.

  “Don’t bother, Seth. She’s not biting,” Gabriel says.

  “I’m sorry. I prefer to work through things on my own,” I murmur.

  “Well, aren’t you three a sight for sore eyes.” Lucien strolls in and settles into the seat in front of me. He turns the chair around to face me.

  “Want me to call them off?” he offers.

  “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

  “Lying doesn’t become you,” Lucien clicks his tongue. “I know the three of us aren’t the best of friends, but we care about you and we want to help you.”

  “If that were true, then you’d listen to me when I say I want to be left alone.” I clench and unclench my hands to alleviate the restlessness inside me. When that doesn’t work, I press my nails into my palms.

  When the lesson starts, I hope this horrible feeling will go away. It doesn’t. Every time I sense Gabriel, Seth or Lucien staring at me I feel like I want to scream. It doesn’t help that the other students gawk at me like I’m some kind of sideshow. I can’t take all these eyes on me.

  Nausea rears up inside me. A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead. I try to keep my breathing even and slow, but it’s not working. My heart flutters behind my ribs. I can’t take this. I’m going to go mad if I have to sit here for another minute.

  I shoot up out of my seat, knocking the book and parchment off my desk.

  “Ebony?” Professor Urla’s face is the picture of concern.

  “I’m sorry,” I stammer. I look around the room. My gaze can’t seem to focus on one thing. Everything blurs together in a swirl of color and light. I feel like I might faint. “I have to go.”

  I bolt out of the room, tripping over several bags and desks on the way out. I spill out into the hallway, nearly colliding with Ivora.

  “Ebony? You don’t look so good. Are you okay?”

  “Stop asking me!” I scream. The classroom door opens behind me. Lucien, Seth, and Gabriel spill out into the hallway.

  “Ebony, what’s going on?”

  “Why can’t any of you understand?” I snap. “Leave me alone!”

  “You’re acting crazy,” Lucien says. “You need help.”

  “I don’t need anything but space,” I say. “You want to know why I’m acting crazy? It’s because I can’t get a moment of peace with the four of you hovering. If Kashton were here he’d be just as bad.”

  My breathing comes in rough, ragged gasps. My lungs burn but I can’t seem to get enough oxygen. Darkness closes in on my peripherals.

  “You need medical attention,” Ivora insists. She looks to the other three. “What happened in there?”

  “She was fine, then she started freaking out,” Gabriel explains.

  “I wasn’t fine! I haven’t been fine!” I exclaim. “I would be fine if you would stop treating me like I’m some trophy to protect.”

  “Ebony.” Lucien gives me a pointed look. A small part of me appreciates that he’s willing to call me on my crap even now. That’s not enough to stop me. I can’t breathe. I need to get away from all of them.

  “Just get away from me.” I place my hands on Lucien’s shoulder and push him back. I’m not strong enough to get him to yield even a step.

  “Let’s do as she says,” Seth says. “We aren’t helping.”

  Lucien searches my face for something I can’t give him. When I storm down the hallway, none of them follow me.

  29

  Ebony

  I don’t remember making the choice to go to Leo’s office, but that’s where I end up. I shove through the doors to the foyer despite the protestations of a handful of assistants, both human and non-human. My breathing isn’t getting any better. It feels like my lungs are in a vice grip.

  My vision’s going blurry. I must be having some kind of magic surge. I need to get it under control. I swear, it’s going to kill me if I don’t. I try to grip the door handles but I can’t seem to make my fingers work right.

  “Damn it!” I groan.

  I start slamming on the door. I feel so out of control that I can’t make a proper fist.

  “What the hell?” Leo’s
voice comes from the other side of the door. When the door opens, I fall forward into the office. Leo catches me and holds me up by my arms.

  “Ebony? What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know.” My breath comes in quick little gasps. “I think my magic is out of control. I got really upset in class. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Sit down for a moment.” He places one arm around my back and leads me toward his desk.

  “I don’t want to sit. I don’t think I can. Help me fix my magic.”

  “This isn’t your magic,” he says quietly.

  “Of course, it is!” I snap.

  “It’s not. You’re worked up. You’re stressed out. You haven’t been sleeping. I’m confident you haven’t been eating enough either. You’ve been training too hard, which is my fault. This is just a culmination of that,” Leo explains calmly.

  “That doesn’t make any sense!”

  “Try something for me, all right?”

  “What?”

  “Match my breathing.” He sits me in down on the same chair I sat in when he told me of Cordelia’s death. He then crouches in front of me and holds my gaze.

  “Okay,” I agree. I watch the slow rise and fall of his chest and try to match it. It’s difficult at first, but after a few minutes, my heartbeat slows back down to a normal rate. My head no longer feels like it stuffed with wet cloth.

  “Better?” Leo asks.

  “Kind of,” I admit. “I still feel restless, though. Can we train for a little while?”

  “You need to go back to class.” Leo stands up to his full height.

  “What?”

  “Ebony, I’m sorry you’re having a hard time but that doesn’t mean I can give you preferential treatment. I’m still the Headmaster and rules still apply to you,” he says.

  “Preferential treatment during the day, you mean,” I correct him. “You have no problem breaking every rule in the book for me once the sun goes down.”

  “That’s different,” he stammers. I’ve never seen him stammer.

 

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