by Pam Godwin
“Her? Are you an expert on bats?”
God, no. I was talking out of my ass. “Let her make mistakes. She’ll learn from them.”
“It made a deadly mistake the moment it breached the walls.”
“Not if she was born inside.” I wouldn’t beg for her life, but I wasn’t giving up, either. “What does the Bible say about bats?”
“It says not to eat them.”
“Oh.” I coughed in my hand. “I feel so much better knowing the most read book in the world provides such profound advice. Though I can’t say I know anyone who would actually eat a bat. Except Ozzy Osbourne.” I feigned a gulp. “Will he go to hell for that? Even if it was an accident?”
“No, he’ll go to hell for all his other sins.”
“Wow. That’s dark.” I chewed on my lip. “Look, I know you have a job to do with punishing bad girls and all. But I’ll be straight with you. Heaven’s not the right scene for me. I mean, if Ozzy can’t make the guest list, how lit can the place be? Like who’s going to be there? A bunch of uptight, rule-following overachievers with their side parts, cringey dance moves, and last-season jeans? Sounds like the moms of TikTok. Hashtag OldTok. Yawn.”
“Grow up.”
Make me. I didn’t have to say it. He read it in my smile.
“You will.” His arm moved in a blur.
Before I could register his intent, he smacked his fist against the windowpane, rattling the glass and sending the bat spiraling to certain death.
“No!” My heart cried out as I shoved open the window and searched the darkness. “What have you done?”
The ground lay beneath a blanket of shadows three stories below. Nothing but endless, pitch-black abyss.
How could he be so cruel? The bat was outside, not hurting anyone. And he was a priest. A man of God.
A devil in disguise.
Hatred flared in my blood, simmering through the deepest parts of me, seething hotter, thicker by the second.
I listened for the sound of wings, but all I heard was the monster’s retreating footsteps like a death march in my head.
And his voice.
His heartless, unyielding command.
“Come with me.”
CHAPTER 4
MAGNUS
I strode into the hall without waiting for the girl. Her footsteps didn’t follow, but they would. They all fell in line, eventually.
Predictable, uninspiring, entitled children. They were always difficult on the first day, thrashing against their new boundaries and resentful about leaving their friends and mansions.
And I had the impossible job of molding them into something better.
The top strata of society lived in a world of mirrored surfaces and disingenuous relationships where a person’s value correlated to how much they could take, control, and hold over others.
Making spoiled rich kids smarter and stronger wasn’t the best thing for society as a whole. What these students needed were lessons in kindness from a positive role model.
But I wasn’t that guy. So I stuck with what I was good at.
Discipline.
Halfway down the corridor, I sensed her slipping out of the classroom behind me.
“Where’s my mother?” She tried to sound confident, but her voice wobbled at the edges, confessing her distress.
Who would’ve thought the pampered Constantine princess had the capacity to care about something other than herself? Her reaction to the bat was a disarming presentation of her character. But she canceled it out with her snarky comebacks and passive-aggressive attempts to belittle me.
No student had ever been so bold.
As she trailed behind, waiting for my answer, her animosity clotted the air. A glance over my shoulder confirmed it.
An inferno consumed her huge expressive eyes, and her lips curled back, baring sharp kitten teeth. Pale blonde hair hung in tangles around her stiff arms, her tiny hands balled into white-knuckled fists at her sides.
Her furious stare didn’t lower, never weakening, completely dialed in on the source of her outrage.
She despised me.
That was atypical, too.
All my students felt some form of trepidation in my presence. But none hated me. Quite the opposite. Too often, I found myself reprimanding unwanted flirtation or, worse, infatuation.
I suspected that wouldn’t be a problem with Tinsley Constantine. But despite all that, she was the same as every other spoon-fed brat with a trust fund, personal driver, and closet full of designer shoes and emotional baggage.
I should tell her the truth about her mother, that the woman intended to leave without saying goodbye. But the words didn’t come. Instead, I stopped at my classroom and gestured inside. “She’s waiting.”
Waiting, because I’d given her that order when I stepped out to grab her daughter. I needed to make something very clear to both of them before they parted ways.
As Tinsley approached, I didn’t step back, forcing her to squeeze past me.
“Murderer,” she spat under her breath and slipped into the room.
In the interest of moving this along, I let it slide. There would be plenty of time in the coming months to punish her mouth.
I followed her in and closed the door.
“What took so long?” Caroline strode toward me, purse in hand, looking all bent out of shape and long past ready to leave.
“Take a seat.” I flicked a finger at the first row of desks. “Both of you.”
“I’m surprised you’re still here.” Tinsley dropped onto a chair and crossed her arms. “Figured you would’ve sneaked away when you had the chance.”
“I don’t sneak—”
“Mrs. Constantine.” I nodded at the seat behind her. “Sit.”
She sucked in an indignant breath, and the dainty cords in her neck strained against her skin. Flawless skin. Slender bones. She would bruise so beautifully in the wrong hands.
In another life, older women were my weakness. But not this one. Not this life and not this woman.
Caroline was, by definition, glamorous. Regal cheekbones. A ripe mouth slashed with scarlet. A body that boasted regular visits to the gym. And not a shimmering blonde hair out of place.
I found her deeply unappealing. She was arrogant and power-hungry with a code of ethics befitting Lucifer himself. From what I knew through my own investigation, the cold queen had no redeeming qualities.
She held my gaze in a silent standoff, one that lasted another second before she lowered onto the seat behind her. She was a smart woman. Smart enough to know I wasn’t a man who backed down.
As for the daughter…
Tinsley slouched deeper in the chair, belligerently directing her gaze anywhere but in my direction.
“Miss Constantine.” I stepped before her, steeling my voice. “Sit up straight.”
Her eyes lifted. Heart-stopping eyes that expressed emotion with visceral clarity. They burned straight through me as she said, “Two words. One finger.”
Caroline gasped.
I kicked the toe of Tinsley’s shoe with enough force to send her shooting up in the chair.
“That”—I motioned at her ramrod position—“is the posture I expect in my classroom. I’ll deal with your other transgressions later.”
Frozen in shock, her lips formed a pouty O.
Her hair, the palest shade of gold, reached nearly to her waist, fading to the color of cultured pearls as if naturally whitened by the sun. Long lashes swept outward from extraordinary wraparound eyes that were wide, light blue, and unduly striking. Add to that her small, pointed nose and delicate bone structure and she had a distinct elven look. A purebred beauty with a face that unveiled magic whenever she was provoked.
In thirty years, she would be exquisite beyond compare. The kind of allure that elicited intense reactions from the beholder.
Most men would find her desirable now, but I was one of the unconventional few who had a strong aversion to teenagers. Even when I
was a teenager, I sought older women. An obsession that ultimately became my destruction.
I hadn’t been called to be a priest. Nine years ago, I chose this life as my penance. Celibacy confined the darkness inside me, and placing myself in a boarding school kept my cravings in check.
The faculty was comprised of priests, retired professors, elderly widows, and a few devout married couples. I surrounded myself with zero temptations.
Best decision I’d ever made, and perhaps, the only noble thing I’d ever done.
I wasn’t a kind priest. But I was an accomplished leader. Running this school allowed me to retain the one thing I needed above all else.
Control.
This small, sequestered corner of the world was my kingdom, and I knew how to deal with its wealthy, powerful families.
Like the one sitting before me.
“I agreed to your rules.” I stood directly in front of Caroline, forcing her to look up at me. “Because they are my rules. Every stipulation you put forth is written in the school’s handbook. You would know this had you bothered to read it.”
“Don’t you dare—”
“Read it. Acquaint yourself with how things are run here. I don’t care what your last name is or how you do business in your world, but you will not come into mine and make threats again. This is my domain, and the decisions I make are in the best interest of the students. I will not cater to the demands of the Constantines. Not mother nor daughter nor any of the assistants, lawyers, bodyguards, or other minions you send my way.” I clasped my hands behind me, relishing the stiffness in Caroline’s shoulders. “If you have a problem with that, show yourself out and take your daughter with you.”
They could stay or go. It made no difference to me. My class load was light this year. Either I would have a lot of free time on my hands or the bulk of my days would be allocated to Tinsley Constantine.
No question the girl would be a full-time job.
And no surprise she had something to say about it. “Are the bars on the windows in the best interest of your students? Do you provide straitjackets, too, so we can’t stab out our hearts in misery?”
I didn’t acknowledge her, didn’t so much as glance her way. I held Caroline’s gaze, waiting for her decision.
“I was right about you.” She gathered her purse and phone and stood, facing me toe-to-toe. “Hard and uncompromising. Exactly what my daughter needs.”
Translation: I won’t go easy on the girl.
She was right about that.
“Tinsley.” Her tone announced her departure, cold and dismissive, as she strode to the door. “I expect a satisfactory report from Father Magnus.”
There was no farewell. No glance back at the child she’d brought into the world. Just the rapid staccato of heels on polished boards fading down the hall.
The sound of tough love.
It wasn’t a bad parenting approach and definitely had its place. But if tough love was all a child received, it didn’t work.
I turned my attention to the girl, her posture stick-straight and head angled away from the door. I didn’t need to see her eyes to know they were blinking back tears.
Sadness, anxiety, fear. In about three seconds, she was going to channel all that into anger and direct it at me.
Three.
Her breathing quickened.
Two.
She clenched her hands.
One.
“Send me home.” She twisted to face me, her words rushing out. “I don’t belong here. I’ll never believe in your outdated religion or follow your stupid rules. You’ll regret every second that I’m here. So tell her you changed your mind. Go before she leaves. Tell her I’m not a good fit for your school, and you don’t want me here.”
“No.”
“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear.” She gnashed her teeth. “I’m going to fuck up every plan you have for me. Swear to God, my fuckups will be epic.”
“That’s okay. Your punishments will be just as epic as your fuckups.”
“You…” Her chin jerked back. “Priests don’t curse.”
“How do you know? Have you ever met one?”
“No, but this can’t be… It’s not normal.” She shrunk back a little, her palms sliding over her thighs. Then she straightened, her gaze fixed across the room. “You, the bat, the bars on the windows… None of this feels right.”
It was time to educate her on a few things.
I sat on the edge of the desk beside her, resting an elbow on my thigh. “We’ve had a number of peregrine falcons venturing down from the mountains. They nest on the church and along the window ledges. It wasn’t a problem until the fledglings started flying into the glass and breaking their necks. After the third dead falcon, I had the bars installed. We haven’t seen a death since.”
Her blue stare lost its venom, and I knew, even though she would never admit it, that I’d found her soft spot.
She had a weakness for vulnerable things.
So do I.
“Bats are sexually dimorphic. Females are larger. Easy to identify.” I leaned in, hardening my expression. “Your pup was an adult male, and it didn’t fall to its death. Unless it had rabies. In that case, a quick death would’ve been merciful.”
I knew the damn thing had flown off, but I would check the area beneath the window to be sure.
“Six other priests live on campus.” I stood, holding her unblinking gaze. “When you meet them, you’ll have a point of reference against which I may be compared. Until then, refrain from making uneducated assumptions.” I headed toward the door. “Follow me.”
She obeyed without comment or attitude. A refreshing change. But it wouldn’t last.
I led her down the stairs and through the main building. On the ground floor, the din of voices announced a full dining hall before the crowd came into view.
Tomorrow marked the start of a new school year, and the girls were celebrating, reuniting with friends after summer break, and meeting the incoming freshmen.
Had things gone differently during her intake meeting, I would’ve allowed Tinsley to join in the festivities. Instead, I kept walking, expecting her to follow.
She lingered at the entrance, taking in the party. “What are they doing?”
“Eating, dancing, having fun. All the privileges you lost tonight.” I rounded the next corner without slowing. “Keep up.”
“Since when is eating a privilege?” She charged after me. “I’m starving.”
“You should’ve considered that before you opened your mouth.” I paused, throwing her words back at her. “I won’t take this moment from you. When you make mistakes, you’ll learn from them.”
She huffed. “I’m not a bat—”
“I make no allowances for disrespect. Every ungrateful remark, eye roll, and gesture will be punished. Nod if you understand.”
Her cheeks hollowed. She crossed her arms. Shifted her weight. Blew out a breath. Then she nodded.
“Good. Now stop dragging your feet.”
CHAPTER 5
MAGNUS
During the ten-minute walk to the dormitories, Tinsley kept pace with my longer strides, all the while pushing her bottom lip forward in an expression of discontent. Or maybe her lip naturally rested that way.
Pouty.
Sexy.
No, Christ. I snatched away the thought before it drew breath.
I couldn’t think it, whether it was true or not. But there was something else appealing about her at the moment.
Her silence.
Sweet, glorious silence.
When she wasn’t talking, she seemed older. More mature. With a lithe figure and self-assured gait, she carried herself with refinement and grace. Not in a deliberate way. No, she tried very hard to exude defiance and hostility. But when she let her guard down, her breeding shone through.
Obedience was second nature to her.
Submissive obedience.
That whisper of truth was harder to snu
ff out. It spoke directly to the parts of me I longed to forget.
“Were you telling the truth about the falcons?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t lie to you. Not about that or anything else.”
“Oh. Right. Because priests don’t lie?”
“Because I don’t lie. Left here.”
She turned into the next hallway, depriving my view of her face. “Will I be able to see the falcons outside? Do the fledglings fly near the school?”
“Sometimes.”
“Cool.” Her spine remained stiff, her tone terse. But the mention of the birds seemed to improve her mood by a small degree.
“We’re leaving the main building now.” I escorted her into a vacant corridor. “It houses the classrooms, offices, library, and dining hall. Up ahead is the residence hall. All students must be in their rooms for the night by nine. Lights out at ten. Otherwise, you’re free to roam within the walls of the campus.”
“When are we allowed outside the walls to roam the rest of the property?”
Sion Academy was one of two boarding schools in our small, self-contained village. Our sister school, St. John de Brebeuf, was an all-boys school run by Father Crisanto Cruz.
Unscalable walls encircled each campus. While aesthetically pleasing, they provided security against outside threats and prevented unauthorized interactions between the two schools. The church, athletic field, theater, and gymnasium sat at the center of the village between the two campuses, allowing us to share the costs of those facilities.
The sister school arrangement was a mutually beneficial one. It also didn’t hurt that Father Crisanto was my childhood best friend.
“There will be plenty of opportunities to explore the village,” I said. “But outside of the campus gates, students must be supervised at all times.”
“Heaven forbid an innocent virgin sees a boy.”
“There are regular social activities involving students from both schools as well as daily Mass.”
“What?” She stopped, her eyes bulging. “You go to church every day?”
“While school is in session, all students and faculty members attend Mass every morning at eight. Except Saturdays.”