by Lucy Auburn
It’s hard not to take any. “I’m sure Headmaster Towers knows what she’s doing. There’s probably a reason why she hired him. I mean, she wouldn’t pick just anyone. Also... he kinda saved my ass last night.”
That gets their attention. “Wait, what?”
“Did something happened?”
It all feels like a dream; maybe that’s part of the effect of the siren song on me. “Yeah. In fact, I’m shocked I haven’t been called into the headmaster’s office to talk about it yet.”
Right on cue, Petra strides into the dining hall and makes a beeline straight for me. “The headmaster wants to talk to you before your first class.”
“It’s almost eight thirty,” I point out. “Yohan will be pissed if I’m late. Unless...”
“Yeah, I don’t think he’ll be there this morning. Last I checked he’s with his sister. Now c’mon—let’s go.”
I pout down at my cereal bowls, and grab one, holding a finger up for Petra to wait. “It’ll only take a sec.”
Pouring chocolate milk into my flakes and marshmallows, I tip the bowl back and slurp down all the cereal in record time. As I place the empty bowl down and wipe the mess off my mouth, Olivia is giving me another one of those funny looks, and Liam looks downright impressed.
Petra shakes her head, clearly dismayed. “I never would’ve believed it was possible if I hadn’t seen you do it.”
“Clean up my tray?”
Olivia nods. “And you have to tell us what happened last night. All the details.”
I nod, swing away from the table, and head towards the headmaster’s office on Petra’s heels—aware the whole way out of the dining hall that I’m getting even more stares than before.
Somehow I miss being a homeless street rat. At least then I could disappear into the shadows.
Right now I’d give anything to be a little less notorious.
“I got her,” Petra announces, pushing me through the headmaster’s door. “She was eating enough food to feed a family of four, so I think she’s fine.”
“Thank you, Petra.” Headmaster Towers doesn’t even look up from the pieces of paper in front of her. “You may go now.”
Petra slips out fast, leaving me alone to face the dragon yet again.
The headmaster isn’t alone in her office. Meyer is sitting on one of the chairs opposite her desk, a large mug of coffee in his hand, looking worse for wear after what was probably an all-nighter for him.
“Morning, Dani.” He raises his mug to me. “I hope you got some sleep.”
Surprisingly, I did. But I’ve slept everywhere from homeless shelters to under eaves and porches, so sleeping in a big comfortable bed after a stressful night of almost getting kidnapped is nothing.
My nose twitches at the smell of fancy coffee. “Can I get a mug of that?”
Headmaster Towers motions over to the coffee machine without looking up. “Help yourself.”
I zoom over to the machine so fast I practically levitate. Grabbing the biggest mug on the counter, I shove it under the spout and put first one, then a second coffee capsule through it. By the time it sputters out the last drops of manna from heaven, the mug is so overfull I have to lean down and sip from the top before I move it.
Mmmm. Coffee. The good stuff, strong and black, nothing like the instant shit they used to let us drink at the shelters. No sugar, no cream, just black like I like it.
Meyer watches me as I slurp the stuff so fast it burns the edges of my mouth a little. “You make that look like it’s a competition.”
I shrug. “Get what you can while the getting is good.”
“What?” He raises his eyebrows. Even the headmaster looks up from her papers.
“It’s just how I live,” I explain, wondering if neither of them has ever gone through a period of wanting but not having. “If there’s food in front of you, eat as much as you can. If there’s coffee drink it all. You never know when the good stuff will be gone.”
Headmaster Towers blinks. A stray piece of hair from her normally tight bun tickles the edge of her cheek. “You don’t have to do that anymore, Dani. You’re going to be here for a long time—as long as you need to master your skills. And when you graduate, you’ll find yourself in very high demand among the paranormal population. You’re one of a kind. The opportunities will be endless.”
I squirm a little in my seat, uncomfortable at the idea of my life being so different. “I guess. But there’s no fancy coffee machine like this downstairs.”
“We can change that.” Leaning back in her seat, the headmaster pushes up her glasses. “I’ll get one for the student dining hall right away.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
“Of course, Dani.” Her voice is soft, and I sense yet again that she feels bad about... well, everything. “Anything you need.”
Clearing his throat, Meyer points out, “We’re here to talk about last night.”
“Yes, right. The unpleasant stuff.” Sighing, the headmaster leans forward and steeples her fingers together on the top of her desk. “Yet another attack on the grounds—one we had no reason to anticipate. It appears that despite our best efforts, Dani, one or another clan of Grims has become aware of your presence here at the school. It may be...”
A guilty expression crosses her face. “Well, in my attempt to hire the right Grim for the job—those that have left the influence of the clans and refuse to harvest hearts are rare—I may have inadvertently raised suspicion that we have a Black Phoenix here. Though I tried to hire a teacher under the guise that we wanted to train our phoenix against siren song and our shifters against demon attacks, I’m afraid I may not have been as circumspect as I believed.”
Meyer cuts in, voice soothing. “You were as subtle as you could be. And I actually have my own suspicions—I believe the word of Dani’s existence may have gotten out because of that White Phoenix.”
It’s strange to be talked about and not to, but I take the opportunity to drink up more of my delicious, slowly cooling coffee.
“How so?” The headmaster pushes up her glasses with a delicate fingertip. “Victoria has been contained here on the grounds, and we have no reason to believe she’s disloyal to our cause now that she’s had the connection to the necromancer who Raised her severed. She’s not even aware of the identity of who enslaved her, so she can’t have been in touch with them.”
“It wouldn’t have been her choice.” Meyer’s tone is grim—haha, Grim. “It takes a strong and powerful necromancer to create something like a White Phoenix. Whoever took her body after death and brought it back to life without suspicion must have used a lot of power to do so—and to establish and keep control. While she was fighting Dani, they would’ve been able to see through her eyes, even control her somewhat.”
Thinking back to the first fight I had with her, when I discovered her hunting Kayla in the Great House, I decide to chime in. “When she disappeared that night she was here, she said something about her ‘Master.’ And when I performed that ritual to remove the necromantic energy from her, she thanked me for it. She seemed... relieved.”
“Yes, she would’ve been.” Meyer seems to study me for a moment. “By the way, that was a very advanced ritual you managed to pull off, especially for someone with no formal training who wasn’t raised among her clan. I’m impressed.”
Swallowing my mouthful of coffee, I admit, “I had help. From... from my demons.”
The headmaster cuts in, “And we’re glad that you were able to pull that off. There’s so little we know about Black Phoenix, and so much we have to learn. You have great potential, Dani, and with Meyer’s help we’ll be able to unlock much of it.”
“Especially now that I’ve warded the grounds against any further dark magic traveling in or out,” Meyer says. “Nothing dark or grim will be able to step foot on campus again without my say so. You don’t have to worry about a repeat of last night—as soon as I saw how that masked Grim got in and out of here, I knew how the White Phoenix h
ad done the same, and I warded the entire campus and its entrance against further invasion.”
Swallowing, I dare to ask, “Did that guy really use a piece of phoenix heart to vanish? That’s what it looked like.”
“Yes.” Meyer’s mouth turns down distastefully. “It’s black, dark magic to use a phoenix heart stolen unwillingly to do such things. I also suspect it’s one reason why Victoria, the White Phoenix is in such poor health—while she was under the necromancer’s spell her heart was severely harmed by the traveling he forced her to do. Without that damage, she might’ve lived to old age as a mortal human, like any other. But her heart can’t be repaired.”
Remembering the way she looked in the hole in the ground of Sara’s backyard, Mateo’s grenade having blown her chest wide open, I shudder. The heart that beat there was black all the way through, just like the dark blood that ran through her veins.
“Dani, please, if there’s anything you need—time away from classes, more reassurances of your safety, a student assigned to walk you to your classes—just let us know. I want you to feel safe here.”
Blanching at the thought of some goody two shoes following me from class to class, I shake my head and try to give the headmaster my most reassuring I’m-not-scared smile. “I’m sure that I can handle myself. Especially now that I’ve started to figure out how to summon my wings. And once my Phoenix Fire class has started up again I’ll really start to improve.”
“Oh, none of Cheng’s classes have been canceled. In fact, since you feel up to it, you can go to class right away.” The headmaster beams at me. “After all, they say a return to normalcy is the best way to feel better after a tragedy or a stressful event.”
“Of course.”
Regretting my earlier I’m totally okay, no help needed here smile, I down the rest of my coffee and glance up at the clock.
At this rate, I’ll be at least five minutes late for Yohan’s class.
I better hurry, or he just might burn me to a crisp over it.
Chapter 4
Monday, 9:00 AM, Phoenix Fire Casting 101 with Yohan
It seems impossible that Yohan could actually have the energy to teach me—and only me—how to manifest my wings and summon fire, given all that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours, but somehow he’s in the classroom when I make it through the pressure-locked double doors. Leaning against the metal table in the middle of the room, he gives me his best displeased-Yohan look, which is saying something given that he’s generally displeased with me.
“You’re late.”
“I didn’t think you’d be in today,” I confess. “Petra said you were with your sister.”
“I was. Now I am here. But you’ve reminded me.” Striding forward, he shocks me to my core by reaching out and clasping my arms, then pulling me towards him in a strange, flat hug. “Thank you so much for what you did for my sister.”
“You’re uh, you’re welcome.” I swallow, feeling more than a little nervous at this odd, not-Yohan gesture. “I’m sorry she’s dying.”
“A clean death is better than a torturous life.” Stepping back from our awkward hug, he smiles at me with the corners of his eyes, which for Yohan is basically a white-toothed grin. “Last night I spoke to my sister for a brief moment while she was lucid, a gift I thought would never be possible. For that I have to thank you. My gift in return will be making sure you’re able to use those rare black wings of yours. You’re late, so we’ll have to get right to it. Sit on the floor.”
Figures. Only Yohan would consider extra meditation some kind of a reward.
Monday, 10:00 AM, Weapons Combat with Kade
“Alright, class.” Pacing back and forth in front of the targets set up across the room, musclebound, intimidating Kade considers us slowly. “Today we’re going to do something special. I want to teach each and every one of you how to use the katana.”
“Sir.” Maybelle, the busybody teacher’s pet, shoots up a hand and doesn’t even wait for him to acknowledge her before she’s asking a question. “Why a long blade? They aren’t subtle to carry in high population areas, or effective against large groups or at a distance.”
Kade gives her a level look, and if he narrows his eyes a little, I decide it’s because he’s imagining how satisfying it would be to grab her pink ponytail and cut it right off her know-it-all head. “It’s important to know how to fight your enemies best. Our enemies are typically Grims.” His eyes seem to skim over me as he says the word typically, and I feel heat at my collar. “Because Grims summons demons, demons are also our enemies, and what are powerful upper demons known for most?”
“Weapons mastery,” she answers, looking very pleased with herself. I elbow Sam and roll my eyes in his general direction, getting a stifled chortle in response.
“Exactly. A demon moves fast, attacks hard, and is practically impervious to physical damage. You’ll meet more than one demon who can dodge a bullet and throw a knife before you blink. They’re much faster than your average Grim or shifter, and hardier too. The single-edged blade is a common weapon among their kind, and the only way to know how to fight one off is to master it yourself.”
Striding over to the weapons rack, Kade grabs one of the katana there and swiftly unsheathes it in a long, smooth movement. “Not to mention, they’re fun as fuck to use. Line up in pairs and grab your weapons—let’s begin.”
As Sam and I square off against each other, I pay attention to my breathing and my heart rate, trying to make sure each is as slow and steady as possible.
The last thing I want is to let my anxiety and sense of danger rise until I inadvertently summon the demons. No doubt Ezra would have some unkind words to say about my abilities with a sword, given that he seems to use his gracefully.
“First lesson.” Kade steps up to me and Sam, grabbing our wrists. “Learn how to properly tie the blade at your hip, and smoothly draw it.”
Maybelle sounds incredulous at this. “That’s all?”
“You can’t take the second step until you’re able to take the first,” Kade scolds her. “If you think you’re so great at drawing your katana, do so now.”
Every eye in the class is on Maybelle as she grabs the sword handle and its sheath, and draws out the blade. As she does so, stretching her arm out and leaning forward to make room for the blade, Kade stands next to her—and pulls his own blade out of its sheath in a fraction of the time it takes her to get hers out, wobbling slightly.
He smacks her side with the flat of the blade. Maybelle blushes from the roots of her hair to her shoulders, and it takes all my effort not to hoot at the sight of her getting what she deserves.
“Now. Let’s try that again. First, you have to make sure you move the sheath, not just the blade, and that you turn it so that you draw it across your body and have it ready to defend yourself as soon as the tip leaves the sheath. Like this.”
Over and over, for the next fifteen minutes, we practice. Then he shows us how to hold the blade. Then, how to parry, and strike, using our feet as well as our arms to move swiftly without shifting our weight too far from the center. Sam helps me, his ability with the katana clearly more advanced than mine, and soon I feel I’m getting the hang of it.
I can even begin to understand why Ezra likes using a sword.
But the practicing takes all my concentration, and by the time the class is over I feel mentally as well as physically tired. It’s a relief, after a long week, to have something to fill up my mind besides quips from demons and the memory of the White Phoenix killing Kayla.
Which is why, when I step out of the classroom and turn towards the stairwell that leads to my next class, it’s a shock to see her face staring right at me.
Or at least, a picture of her face, framed and nestled in a large floral arrangement propped up against the windows of the stairwell, near a study alcove with a few comfortable chairs that students sometimes use to read. I freeze and take the scene in, from the framed photo to the drying flower arrangem
ents and handwritten notes pinned all around.
It’s only been a few days since she was killed, but it feels like it’s been forever.
“There’s a memorial this evening.” Sam steps up beside me, unusually subdued. “I guess now that the threat is over, people finally feel like it’s appropriate to mourn. They’re having one for Eleanor, too.”
“What about that other kid?” It takes me a moment to remember his name. “Matthew Stephenson.”
“He died before you were here. Everyone was so shocked about it—they told us initially it was an accident. With Eleanor too. It wasn’t until Kayla was found that it came out there were murders.” He shakes his head, mouth thinned to a line. “We all know there are risks, being a paranormal, especially if you choose the path to becoming a Shield. But no one thought we’d die here. I’ve heard the first year class is hemorrhaging students—a lot of parents are pulling their kids and enrolling them in the Shifter Academy up in Portland.”
“Very literal names they give these places,” I quip, unable to fully process all the death without a little humor. “I can’t believe the headmaster lied to the students about the deaths.”
“That’s the Towers family motto: keep calm and carry on, and when in doubt lie your ass off.” He shrugs, then glances around the emptying hallway. “We should both get going. See you at lunch?”
“Yeah.” I have to tear my eyes away from the portrait of Kayla’s face, which somehow haunts me more than the sight of her bleeding out and dying ever did. “See you at lunch.”
Monday, 11:00 AM, Phoenix History with Ocean Johnson
It’s a relief to sit down and do something besides parry, thrust, and shift my feet back and forth with a sword in my hand. Grabbing my dark red wings-emblazoned journal, I open it up to take notes, hyper aware of the fact that every other kid here has a laptop or smart tablet of some kind.