Jane thought she had a relatively good handle on herself and was proud that her outbursts against the Texan were far and few between. That, of course, was all thrown out the window Friday night during their last quis training session for the week. Calvin had already gotten on her nerves from the get-go—if Jane didn’t arrive in Numerology before he did, he would continue to sit in her seat—but she continued to remind herself that there were oh so many minutes remaining and then she’d be free. Depogare had yet to actually train them in anything. The entire hour was just a lecture on what was known about quis, but since Depogare was the only known quis besides herself and Calvin, the lectures were one-sided and short. Or, they would have been had Calvin not asked about: Every. Single. Thing.
As Jane closed her notebook after Depogare dismissed them, Calvin turned to Jane and said, “I have a proposition for you, Jane.” Her eyes immediately locked onto Depogare’s sharp profile, but he either ignored his students or didn’t hear them.
Jane looked back at Calvin. He had a small, knowing smile on his face that looked as though he had the secret of life and was about to bestow a priceless honor on her by sharing it. She was immediately suspicious.
“Okay …” She tilted her head to the side, waiting.
“Now, I think you’ll like this,” he went on, his cerulean eyes twinkling. Jane couldn’t help but stare; she didn’t think she had ever seen him this happy before. “As you are well aware, I want to learn more about us, about quis. Since the only two I know of beside myself are you and Professor Depogare, I need your help. You are the only female. Perhaps the components that makeup a female quis are different than those that makeup males.”
Jane rolled her eyes and stood up, ready to leave. Of course he wanted her help with his so-called science experiment. “No,” she replied flatly, sliding her notebook into her bag.
He actually had the audacity to look surprised. “Why?” He frowned, his eyes hard as they narrowed. “Why not?”
“I’m not going to be a part of your little experiment,” she said. How many times did she need to tell him how offended she was that he would even ask?
“Little experiment?” He sounded insulted. She nearly laughed. “Little ex— You know Jane, I know that you’re fascinated by the useless subjects taught at this academy, but I had no idea that you completely lack any intelligence in regard to what you are.”
Her eyes snapped into his. “Excuse me?” she asked through gritted teeth. Under other circumstances, she might have cared that Depogare was still in the room overhearing this conversation, but she was too upset with Calvin. Again.
“I specifically used words I knew you’d understand—”
Before Calvin could finish his statement, his desk toppled over. He hadn’t been sitting in it and no one in the room was hurt, but if Depogare had been ignoring the two before, he was completely focused on them now.
Jane blinked, suddenly woozy. She barely heard the professor bark at Calvin to leave immediately as she reached out, hoping to latch onto a desk because she knew she was going to fall. She wasn’t certain, but she could swear she heard Calvin murmur something along the lines of “Interesting” before leaving.
Her knees buckled. What was happening to her? She never fainted. Had she made the desk move? She didn’t know, didn’t remember thinking that she wanted the desk to move—
And then strong arms wrapped around her frame, preventing her from knocking her head against a desk and hitting the cool floor tile. Her eyes, which were so close to closing, looked up at her rescuer and she was surprised to find Depogare looking back down at her, holding her tightly against him.
He really does have the most beautiful eyes …
The last thing she heard before the blackness consumed her was the soft Southern lilt from her professor saying, “I’ve got you.”
Daryl Depogare looked at the fallen young woman in his arms, unsure of what to do. He had never been this physically close to a student before, let alone touched one, and now, here he was carrying her, her body so close to his he could smell the soft hint of vanilla radiating from her. In all honesty, he wanted nothing more than to question her about what she had done. He knew she was the one who had moved the desk, but he was willing to bet she had no idea she did. He had never seen such a quick reaction from a quis before—though he only knew of Miss Cabot and Mr. Joseph in his entire time on the planet—including his own abilities. Normally, a quis would have to take a few moments to concentrate on the object he wanted to move, even if that quis was someone as experienced as he was.
This was dangerous.
Perhaps Mr. Joseph was right. Perhaps studying a female quis might help in figuring out what it meant to be a quis.
Not that she would be willing to participate in such experiments. She made that abundantly clear.
His eyes carefully scrutinized her to make sure there were no apparent injuries. She was surprisingly light—not that she was fat by any means, but he had seen her play soccer and knew she could be a brick wall if need be. Now she was vulnerable. Helpless. Daryl saw the trait in many of his students, but never in Miss Cabot. Even when she was going off on one of her many trivial causes, he had never seen her look so … peaceful.
The more he looked at her, the more he realized that she was actually—
His eyes widened, stopping the thought just in time. No injuries, that was all that mattered. But what to do with her?
He couldn’t question her; that much was certain. Not now, at least. However, it was imperative that he discuss this with her. This completely threw his entire schedule off; he hadn’t wanted to start training until he taught them everything he knew about quis. But he couldn’t have Miss Cabot be a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off, possibly harming someone or even herself.
If word about her abilities got out, she’d be in immeasurable danger. Most peculiars weren’t aware of the existence of quis, but if they found out that not only did they exist but one of the three existing quis reacted faster than the other two, she was a sitting duck, in more danger than she could possibly know. His grip on her tightened.
Since he couldn’t do anything about this now, he decided to take her back to her room. Daryl planned to use the professors’ entrance each hall had in order to avoid questioning eyes and scandalous rumors, but he would have to inform Will that Miss Cabot had fainted. More than anything, he needed to speak to her as soon as possible tomorrow. Training must commence at once, Ethan had to know, and Daryl would be there to ensure that nothing happened to Miss Cabot.
When Elle got up to answer the soft knocking on the dorm room door, the last person she expected it to be was Professor Depogare. Even more unexpected was the unconscious Jane, limp in his arms.
“She is okay,” he said immediately upon entering the room. He didn’t even wait for an invitation as he walked in. When he realized that he didn’t know which bed was hers, he stopped and regarded Elle. He didn’t say anything but waited for her direction.
“This one,” Elle said, pointing to the bed closest to the door. She watched as the Southern mental professor gently placed Jane on the bed. He took a step back, eyeing Jane’s crumpled form. Elle wasn’t great at reading body language—that was more Jane’s specialty—but her blue eyes were sharp enough to take in how his hooded black eyes seemed unsatisfied with the way he left Jane’s body. Surprising Elle, Depogare reached out and began to unhinge the blankets on the made bed.
He was going to tuck her in, Elle realized.
She watched in wonder as everyone’s least favorite professor began to wrap Jane in blankets, ensuring the unconscious girl was warm. The oddest thing about the scene currently unfolding before her was how gentle Depogare was being. Elle didn’t have personal experience with him, but rumors about him were all the same: he was cold, he was mean, he was tough, he had no problem insulting students, he assigned homework on the first day of school, he hated everyone and everything.
The man before her was none of t
hose things now. He was gentle, tentative, and though his eyes were guarded, Elle could tell from his rigid posture that the man who lived since the thirteen hundreds and seemed to know everything about everything was unsure. Unsure about what, Elle didn’t know, but unsure about something.
And then, the cherry on top, so to speak, he reached out and tucked a stray strand of Jane’s dirty blonde hair behind her ear, his fingertips dragging along her skin.
Elle wasn’t sure what to do. Such an obvious display of … Well, she wasn’t quite sure as to what to call this. Depogare didn’t love Jane or anything crazy like that. For one, Jane was only seventeen years old and his student. Plus, she was from Ignis, and everyone knew that Depogare was totally biased against Ignis. Whether it was because water and fire were opposing elements or because of his tumultuous relationship with Will, Elle couldn’t say. Also, from what Elle heard about Depogare, she was pretty certain it was impossible for a man like him to love anybody.
Then again … he was worried about her, that much was certain, and he cared about her. If he cared about her, then loving her wasn’t too far off, was it?
No, this was ridiculous. Elle was just projecting the emotional turmoil she was going through onto Jane and Depogare. If anything, the redneck wanted to protect her the way any professor wanted to protect his or her student. That was it; no need to make a whole soap opera out of it.
“What happened?” Elle asked, dropping her eyes from Depogare to look at Jane. He said she was okay, and as her eyes scanned her friend, she noticed that there were no discernable injuries on Jane’s person. Jane didn’t look hurt. But Jane also wasn’t a fainter.
Depogare immediately took a step back from the bed as though he had completely forgotten Elle was in the room. His eyes now rested firmly on her rather than Jane.
“She fainted,” he replied.
Elle waited for something else, but got no more explanation.
“Jane doesn’t faint,” Elle said, placing a hand on a cocked hip. An idea flashed through her mind and her eyes narrowed. “This doesn’t have to do with … you know.”
His look immediately turned suspicious. “I know what?” he asked in his smooth, velvet tone.
For whatever reason, Elle felt herself straighten. Jane always did say Depogare was intimidating, but she didn’t know it was to this level. She pressed her lips together, completely unsure of how to respond. Did Depogare know about Jane’s extra, practically impossible, ability? Elle knew Jane had extra sessions with him, but besides meeting with Ethan about what happened with the textbook, Jane hadn’t mentioned anything else.
God, how selfish could Elle be? Here she was, worrying about guys—boys, more like it—and she hadn’t even asked Jane how the meeting went. She hadn’t been a good friend and now Jane was unconscious.
“You know what? Never mind,” Elle said. “Thank you for bringing Jane to her room. I’ll make sure to take good care of her—”
“You are Eleanor Moyer, are you not?” He raised one brow.
Elle was five foot ten inches, the tallest girl in all of Year Six, and yet somehow, Depogare had the power to make her feel no greater than three feet. If it was anyone else, she would have responded with some kind of sassy comment, and while she might want to, she couldn’t. All she could do was nod, and then in a voice meek enough to embarrass her, said, “I am.”
“Miss Cabot talks about you during her lessons,” Depogare drawled. “You are her best friend, I presume.” He took a step toward her, looming over her. In response, she shrank. “Whatever she has told you, it is of the very essence that you keep this to yourself. I know girls your age dribble-drabble about every little thing. If you want to keep your supposed best friend safe, you’ll keep your mouth shut. Do you understand me?”
Elle felt her heart start to pound against her chest. “Wait, is Jane in danger?” she asked. Her voice was sharp. “Why? I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to understand,” he said firmly.
“Of course I do!” Elle exclaimed. “She’s my best friend. I have every right to know if she’s in danger.”
“Why?” His voice dripped chocolate sarcasm. “So you can protect her?”
“Oh, and you can?” Her blue eyes clashed with his nearly-black ones. He seemed surprised that she would challenge him and honestly, so was she. But if there was something wrong with Jane, Elle’s fear of the man would take a back seat while she figured everything out.
He said nothing in response to her retort, just continued to stare at her. He had yet to raise his voice, but somehow he didn’t have to.
“Why are you even helping her?” Elle demanded. “You’re not even her dorm director. You realize she’s Ignis, right?”
“Her hall is of no consequence to me,” he said, “and any other professor in my position would do the same thing I have done.”
The image of Depogare brushing aside Jane’s hair flashed in her mind which, for some reason, only propelled Elle’s anger. “Any other professor would have taken her to the nurse after she fainted,” Elle pointed out. “You didn’t do that which means you know something. What’s wrong with her? What did you do to her?”
Depogare’s eyes flashed and he spoke through gritted teeth. “I did absolutely nothing to her. Nothing is wrong with her. She fainted. I brought her to her room.” He tilted his chin up, looking down at her over his nose. “I do not have to explain myself to you.”
Elle wanted to challenge him, but she thought better of it. Their fighting might cause Jane to wake up and Elle herself was getting tired. The best thing right now would be if he left.
Depogare seemed to agree. He looked back at Jane—was it Elle’s imagination or did his eyes soften?—and he said in a much less strained voice, “When she wakes up, she will have a headache. Do not give her aspirin. I repeat, do not give her aspirin. Chamomile tea with a spoonful of honey.” His eyes latched onto Elle’s as his tone darkened. “It is absolutely imperative that she see me as soon as she can, Miss Moyer. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal,” Elle bit out.
Depogare nodded once, another glance at Jane before he tilted his head down, kind of like a bow. How traditional. With that, he turned and left the room.
Elle looked down at her friend, shaking her head in disbelief. Then, to no one, “What is going on?”
19
When she woke up the next morning for breakfast, Sophie was glad it was Saturday. She had lots of homework she needed to finish, lots of notes she needed to review, but all she wanted to do today was relax. Up until she had to meet with Will at ten. It didn’t seem to matter that today was Saturday and therefore the weekend since Will insisted they still meet to train. It didn’t matter that every muscle in her burned when she breathed. It didn’t matter that she was mentally and physically exhausted.
As such, Sophie threw her hair into a messy bun, and for her choice of outfit, decided on a baggy t-shirt and shorts.
“How’s Jane doing?” Sophie asked Elle in a low voice, not wanting to wake the girl up in question. When she walked in last night, Elle had told Sophie that Jane had fainted and Depogare had brought her up to her room. Neither Elle nor Sophie knew how Jane fainted and Depogare never offered up in explanation.
“Still hasn’t woken up,” Elle replied. Her thick blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, a red sundress on her willowy frame. “I’m going to bring her up some food in case she does while we’re at breakfast.”
The girls headed down the flight of stairs and across the field to AckPec. The Dining Hall was somewhat full, with many of the students opting to sleep in rather than wake up for breakfast. Which was just fine with Sophie, since it meant more pancakes for her.
“Hi Sophie.”
The voice was unfamiliar but friendly and caused Sophie’s eyes to snap up to the speaker. He was a boy, either her age or slightly older. He had short, sandy blond hair and brown eyes the same color as milk chocolate. He was tan—probably spent a lot of time
outside doing some kind of physical activity that sculpted his body—and was wearing jeans that fit him in all the right places and a grey hoodie. He was only a half a head taller than she was but the boyish smile currently etched out onto his face was more than enough to make up for his lack of height.
To say he was cute was a major understatement.
Sophie felt her face react faster than her mind could control. Were her lips really unable to smile like a sane person? Because they kept twitching like some kind of moron.
“Um, yeah. Hi.”
Well, at least she sounded like a moron too.
His smile deepened and he headed to the Ignis table with a group of friends she hadn’t noticed until now.
Elle nudged Sophie, a telltale smirk on her face. “Wow, Soph, I didn’t know you had an admirer,” she teased.
Sophie laughed nervously, hoping her face wasn’t too red.
“Do you know who that is?” Elle continued. “That’s Jason Ryan. He’s the Ignis star forward on the soccer team, a Year Six like us, and basically the wet dream of every Ignis girl and gay guy. Besides Professor Butler, obviously.”
The goofy smile evened out as Sophie took a seat at the table. She tried not to look at Jason, sitting further down, but every once in a while, she would glance at him from the corner of her eye. Why did he talk to her? Did he like her or had he heard the rumors about her and was talking to her because he wanted to know directly if she was a physical? How could he like her if he didn’t even know her?
She decided to eat less pancakes than she might have otherwise, not because there was a chance Jason would look at her eating, but because if Will was going to make her run. She didn’t want to puke them all up. By the time she got to Will, she could feel herself glowing.
“Why are you so smiley?” It would appear Will noticed it as well, since his hazel eyes were narrowed suspiciously.
Instead of being embarrassed at being caught, Sophie’s smile widened. “No reason,” she replied. Sophie highly doubted that Will would appreciate the fact that a cute, popular guy acknowledged her existence, and she didn’t need any merciless teasing he would no doubt bestow upon her should he find out.
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