by Patti Larsen
Yay me. Taking responsibility. Which meant I was stuck with the thing until I could figure out a way to kill it once and for all.
I knew it was the virus attracting Alison. She’d discovered, shortly after her echo appeared, the power inside it could keep her aware and partially corporeal, unlike most ghosts. And now she craved it, came for it fairly frequently. I poured more shields over it as I lay there, smothering it further, until the faint glow was only visible if I didn’t look directly at it, a mirage in my peripheral vision.
Who knew what would happen if Alison was able to access its full power? I shuddered under the warmth of my blankets, suddenly chilled to the bone. It was bad enough the virus itself wanted to consume others. What would it be able to do as a vampire ghost? Was such a thing even possible?
Would Alison live again as pure undead? The thought made me pause, and this wasn’t the first time. What if I did let her have it? Would my friend really be alive?
I already knew the answer. The girl I knew, the real essence of who she was, was long gone, passed over. This echo could never be allowed to take control of the virus.
The marble stirred over my heart and I found myself quickly clenching one hand around it. It shouldn’t be stirring, not with the amount of magic I had cushioning it. It wasn’t like there were vampires here to attract it, either. No vampires were allowed in Harvard Yard.
After a moment, the virus fell still again and I slid the gem back inside my T-shirt. Finally worn out enough to sleep, I fell into a dreaming state dominated by blood-soaked vampires, sobbing Sashenka and the gaping, laughing face of the girl who had once been my best friend.
***
I woke to the sound of the door closing and, groggy from my terrible sleep, flipped over to find Sashenka’s bed made and her missing.
Lovely. Just freaking lovely. Well, at least I didn’t have to see her much. Today was first day of classes already and, aside from sleeping in the same room, I could keep our interactions to a minimum if that was what she wanted.
Grumpy and out of sorts, wishing I’d come the day before instead of leaving my trip to the last minute, I slid out of bed and hit the shower.
The hot water helped improve my mood a little. By the time I’d dressed, I even felt human. Never mind I’d never admit how carefully I’d chosen my clothes, the blue sweater Quaid loved, my favorite denim skirt hugging my hips and flaring to my knees. I even took the time to run the flat-iron through my hair and double up on my mascara layer and lip gloss. Pathetic, really. Quaid proved over and over he loved me no matter what I looked like. Still, I was feeling the need, after not seeing him for so long, to show off a little.
So sue me.
Computer and a blank notebook tucked in my bag and I was on my way, Charlotte on my heels. The hall was quiet, though a few late witches ran past me, down to mingle with the normals and outside into the Yard. Not one person paused to smile, say hi, even notice me and the old gloom settled around me as I stepped out into the sunlight.
Syd’s on her own again. Well, isn’t that special? Just like always. Years and years of being an outcast had clearly stamped some kind of message across my whole being.
College was supposed to be different. And yet, obviously it wasn’t the case.
Two steps in the sunshine and I shook myself.
Yes, this year was different. I had Charlotte, for one thing. So I was never alone. I tried to see that as a consoling fact and caught myself grinning. Sure, she wasn’t the best conversationalist, but at least I had someone I could bounce ideas against, eat meals with.
Maybe if people saw me with someone else they’d take a chance. I was determined to make some friends this year, if only to replace the ones I’d lost, the brief and shining friendships I fought at first and now cherished the memories of now that they were gone.
Beth with her cute bob and sweet nature was at state college with her boyfriend Tim, thanks to Mom and a scholarship from the Brindle family in England. Blood was gone to Europe with his family, the tall, looming Goth with his deep voice and steady, calming nature that always made me smile. Pain, Mia, the lost daughter of the Dumont coven, now their leader. She was lost to me in more ways than one and I found I missed her a great deal. Alison. Not going there. And Simon.
I perked. Simon! He was here at Harvard, had been bumped years ahead, only fifteen and now a sophomore. I was sure I’d find him at some point. The idea of seeing his sweet face, thick glasses perched on his narrow nose, skinny body all arms and legs, made everything all right again.
Simon was the type who would have made friends, the outcast kind. And those, it turned out, were the ones I liked the most.
Grinning at the thought of falling into another group of quirky, funny, genuine friends thanks to Simon, I headed across campus with a lighter heart.
***
Chapter Five
Memorial Hall loomed over me, the wide wings flanking the massive tower in the center making me nauseous all of a sudden. What was I thinking coming here? Trying to fit in with other kids, even witches, when I was so... not like them?
I think I would have turned around and hidden in my room if it hadn’t been for Charlotte. She must have sensed my panic because she grasped my arm firmly, one of the rare times she’d ever touched me, and guided me forward through the big doors to face my destiny.
Well, breakfast. Annenberg Hall stretched out in front of me, all carved wood and arching ceiling beams and stunning stained glass, so gorgeous and overwhelming I stood there a long moment, just taking in the sight. Most of the tables were full, but at least no one paid attention to me as I gaped like an idiot at the view.
Charlotte got me moving again even as the tingle of magic in the place suddenly made me feel calm. There was power here, not just in the building, but in the students around me. I’d felt them last night, of course, but I’d been in the middle of my own stuff and didn’t really pay attention. I was paying attention now. I felt them, all different degrees of magic, as I made my way down the center aisle and gathered up my own breakfast.
Charlotte and I found a place at the end of a table. Okay, Charlotte made us a place and I took the seat vacated by the nervous freshman who took one look at my bodywere and gulped the last of his milk before grabbing his tray and running like a rabbit.
As we sat, I caught the faintest glimmer of a smile on the weregirl’s face and found myself laughing.
“You enjoy that, don’t you?” The scrambled eggs and sausage smelled great, toast slightly soggy. I sniffed my yogurt as I peeled back the top while Charlotte delicately began to eat her bacon, eggs, sausages and ham with her fingers.
“Sometimes.” Humor shone in her eyes for a moment. “It’s so easy.”
I nodded, sipping my orange juice. “I hear you.”
Maybe she was warming up to me, would be more willing to be my friend after all. But when I tried to talk to her further, Charlotte just continued to eat, gaze flat, face a mask of nothing.
Which left me time to think. Never a good idea. Especially when I hadn’t yet heard from Quaid. Hadn’t he promised to contact me the second he arrived? Did that mean he was here, but was avoiding me? Or worse, that he hadn’t arrived, because he wasn’t coming? Or couldn’t because he was hurt or sick or...? Fear grappled with doubt grappled with anxiety until I could barely swallow.
A quick glance at my watch told me I was about to be late for my first class on my first day and didn’t have time to worry about my absent boyfriend. The cafeteria emptied out quickly, leaving Charlotte and me in the softy echoing room, the vastness of it making me feel very small.
I briefly considered riding the veil to class, but rules were rules. Besides, even if I could, doing so would only draw attention to myself, and the last thing I wanted this year was any kind of attention. Instead, I raced back across Cambridge Street with Charlotte right behind me and through the Yard toward Widener Library.
I didn’t have time to admire the massive white columns or
the wide steps and huge doorways as I ran up the stairs and into the building, the smaller libraries flanking the gigantic place vanishing as I hurried through the doors. A pang of thought for Liam and how much he would have loved to explore the place was fleeting as I stopped, out of breath, and stared into the perfectly normal-looking, if massive and oppressive, foyer leading into the main library.
The coolest part about Harvard was how both witches and normal students and faculty were able to co-exist. Most buildings had a magic component of some kind to them, specifically for my kind, off limits to normals. But for the most part, including the cafeteria and some of the classes, we mingled together like we were all one big, happy campus.
Case in point was Widener Library. The majority of it was for normals, housing a gazillion or so books. But the witches who had a hand in creating it were sure to include one very important detail—Coven Hall. I was allowed to attend normal classes if I chose, or could simply do my three years of witch studies and be done. I still hadn’t decided if I wanted to give biology or calculus a try, but I wasn’t closed to the idea.
I knew what to do, had it drilled into me when Mom filled me in on what the campus was like, but it still bothered me being unfamiliar where I was about to go.
Just as I drew a breath and turned left, headed for a plain wooden door looking more like the entry to a janitor’s closet than a class for witches, a skinny guy with lank, dark hair raced around me and jerked the door open, slamming it shut behind him. Just like that. I glanced around, in case someone was watching, though I knew there was no way a normal would care what he did thanks to the magic protecting it. Nor could someone without power repeat it. The magic keeping the area safe deflected the eyes of those without power and prevented them from stumbling on the doorway hiding the space where reality existed and magic began.
Despite knowing it was much like how we used to protect our coven site, I still felt a shiver go down my spine as I strode forward and opened the door, passing through the shields, emerging inside a dark but lofty hallway, the ceiling reaching high above me, wood paneled walls much like those on the rest of the campus.
Coven Hall was to be my school for the next three years.
The hall stretched out before me, feeling endless. Probably was endless, when it came down to it. Door upon ornately carved wooden door flanked the wide corridor, my footsteps muffled in the thick black carpet running on and on forever deeper into Coven Hall. How was I supposed to figure out which class was mine?
Power flickered and a wide-bottomed older woman with hair the same color as her fuchsia dress popped into view. She floated just above the floor, foot-tall body shimmering with energy.
“Class schedule?” Her voice was tinkly soft, but clearly understandable. I’d never seen a sprite before, or even for a moment thought I’d ever meet one. She pondered my list a moment, whipping out a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, also deeply pink, before tapping the paper with one index finger. It flickered, the page turning black before the sprite floated close, a perfect bow smile on her little pink lips.
“Freshmen.” She rolled her eyes. No way. Her irises were pink, too. How weird was that? But she giggled like a little girl despite her aged appearance and I found myself grinning. “Here you are, Sydlynn Hayle.” I took the page back from her. “Have a wonderful semester.”
The moment my fingers touched the page everything shifted sideways. I had to catch my balance to keep from falling as the whole corridor jerked to the left, then the right before the world slammed into place.
A very different reality faced me. Instead of being in an endless hallway, I now stood in the center of a circular room of eight doors. The one behind me was closed, but the others stood open, all bustling with activity inside. Each was marked in large block numbers, one through seven.
Charlotte actually choked on a giggle before schooling her features again and I tried not to feel insulted. Clearly, class one was my first of the day. As I strode through the door with an outward confidence I didn’t feel, I did my best to pretend a foot-tall sprite with a propensity for pink hadn’t just treated me like an idiot.
I knew from a previous look at my schedule I’d just walked into Elemental Studies with Blanche Rhodes as my instructor. I wasn’t sure what to expect, though the Rhodes coven, led by Violet, were allies as long as I didn’t break the law. The adorable old lady who led the Rhodes coven was a stickler for playing things by the rules.
My goal was to slip inside and take a seat at the back, avoid notice and slip out again in the mass of students, just like always. But, because I was late, it turned out I was the last student to arrive. That coupled with my aggressive entrance, my bodywere at my back, drew every single eye.
Including Blanche’s. The moment she saw me I knew, without a moment of doubt, I was in for a very, very bad year.
Her brown eyes lit up like her long-lost granddaughter had just come home. The portly woman held out both hands to me, a smile on her cherub face, perfectly coiffed hair piled high, not moving a bit as she took three steps toward me.
“Look who we have, class!” Those hands pulled toward her, tucking under her chin as she clasped them together in sheer delight. “I saw your name on my roster, but I couldn’t believe for a moment you’d be here.” Blanche gestured for me to join her at the front and a single seat left wide open in the middle.
For me.
Oh no.
I could run. There was still time. Until I heard the door swing shut and slam behind me. Blanche was hurrying to my side by then, hands grasping mine, hers moist and warm, the skin almost doughy. I fought the urge to pull myself free, struggling with what to do, how to save myself as she guided me down the steps to the front of the lecture hall and presented me to the class.
“Everyone,” she gushed, trembling beside me, “may I present Sydlynn Hayle, the leader of the Hayle coven and your classmate.” Blanche clapped her hands, the meaty smack making me wince. No one looked impressed, though I did my best not to meet any eyes.
I was too busy begging the elements to swallow me whole.
When no one reacted, Blanche’s face fell a little. “Well then, Sydlynn, dear,” she guided me to the “special” seat, making sure I was comfortable before backing up a few steps and smiling at the class. “Shall we begin?”
Blanche Rhodes wasn’t a terrible teacher. In fact, she would have been fine if she was standing in front of five-year-olds.
“Now then,” she said, slowly, with exaggerated carefulness. “We’re going to discuss the elements and what they can do.” She looked around the group, eyes bright, smile wide. “Does everyone know what an element is?”
She wasn’t freaking serious. I’d avoided using or having anything to do with magic up until I was forced to at sixteen and even then I knew what an element was.
Painful silence. Well, at least I wasn’t the focus of attention anymore. Let the freshmen witches just forget all about me in the front row and instead put their attention on the embarrassment happening before them.
It wasn’t until Blanche’s gaze settled on me I understood the full brunt of what was to be my endless torture in her class.
“Sydlynn,” she said. “Since you’re a coven leader,” she drew the two words out like it was something amazing, winking broadly at the class, “why don’t you tell us what the elements are.”
The next hour and a half dragged out in a spiraling downward collapse, and by the time it was over, the door swinging open to let us out, I was so overcome by the fact I would never, ever make friends with any other witches I just sat there and let the others leave so I didn’t have to even be near them.
I felt the animosity toward me, how every single student in the class blamed me for the brain-numbing lecture a baby would understand, with me as the mouthpiece of a woman who shouldn’t be allowed to train dogs to bark.
Blanche rushed forward to take my hands and help me to my feet.
“I can’t wait for tomorrow.” She clapped her h
ands again after setting me free. “You were wonderful, my dear. Now, off with you.” She gestured to the door where a few students were trickling in. “I have another class to teach.”
Torture. Surely she meant torture. The exit wasn’t nearly close enough for my liking.
I paused in the round room, eyes fixed on door number two. There was another door next to it, marked “café”, but no way I was risking it. Better to creep into my next class and hide.
Just as I set foot on the threshold, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and turned my head. Jean Marc and Kristophe Dumont waved at me from the entry to the diner.
“Well done, mon cher,” Jean Marc said.
“Oui,” Kristophe struck one of his model poses, long hair swinging over his shoulder as he fixed me with his disgusting gaze. “You were the teacher’s pet, non?”
Choke. What? How did I miss they were in my class? They both exited the café, heading for me.
For door number two.
As they brushed past me, Kristophe licked his lips, Jean Marc’s smirk turning my stomach.
“Let’s see if you can be a little less obvious, shall we?” Kristophe’s fingers brushed over my hair as the two entered the class, laughing, Kristophe glancing back over his shoulder.
I didn’t know I was shaking until Charlotte’s steady hand found my elbow. She pulled me forcefully aside, lips near my ear.
“If he touches you again, I’ll kill him.”
I met her eyes, saw the hate deep inside her. Emotion at last. And I hardly blamed her. The Dumonts enslaved Charlotte’s people, divided them when her father, Raoul, and part of the pack were freed by Galleytrot.
“No,” I said, voice more steady than it should have been. “If Kristophe touches me again, I’ll kill him. You can have Jean Marc.”