Blackwood nods at Aarya, who doesn’t lose a second. She pulls Felix into the hallway and past the guards, whistling as she goes.
Blackwood makes her way to Conner, who’s dragging himself across the floor, leaving a trail of blood.
“One way or another we’re going to find your father,” Conner says through clenched teeth. “And when we do, you’ll wish I’d killed you in this room.”
“Very moving last words,” Blackwood says. “But I think the material point is that if someone finds him, it won’t be you.” Blackwood glares at Conner like he’s a loathsome parasite and she’s trying to decide what to do with him.
I don’t spare him another glance. Aunt Jo was right about Dad’s family—good riddance.
“After you take Ashai to the infirmary, November,” Blackwood says over her shoulder, not taking her eyes off Conner, “please meet me in my office….And close the door on your way out.”
ASH IS DOZING in the infirmary. He tried to stay awake to talk to me, but whatever the nurse gave him knocked him out cold. He only mumbled an incoherent sentence or two before his eyes fluttered shut.
I watch his chest rise and fall and I exhale audibly. If Aarya hadn’t showed up when she did, I honestly don’t know how much I would have lost tonight. Probably both our lives, and maybe my dad’s as well.
“We should get your cuts cleaned up,” the nurse says, and I turn around. She wears her long black hair in a braid that reaches her waist. A single gray streak near her temple makes her look like a sorceress. And she’s petite, but her voice is raspy and commanding.
“I know. And I promise I’ll be back. But Headmaster Blackwood told me to come see her first,” I say, and she gives me a stern look.
“Get on with it, then,” she says, and I do.
I make my way through the silent hallways, passing three guards as I go. They all watch me, but no one looks at me like I shouldn’t be there, which makes me think they already know what happened with Conner.
I take the three flights slowly, my body more bruised and achy than it was even half an hour ago. And when I reach Blackwood’s office, two guards stand outside her arched door. One of them opens it for me, but neither guard follows me in. Blackwood must want total privacy, and I don’t blame her, considering her role in all of this.
The familiar smell of woodsmoke fills the air. I take a seat in the armchair just like I did my very first day, and I find myself blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. “Did you try to send me messages through some of my instructors?”
Blackwood raises an eyebrow and considers me. “I may have suggested a few lessons to help you acclimate.”
I would laugh at that tempered answer, but I’m too pooped and sore to muster a laugh. “And when Matteo punched—”
Blackwood cuts me off. “Now, I know you have questions, and truthfully, you are entitled to ask them. However, please do me the favor of listening first.” She leans back in her chair.
I thought that tonight would have softened her toward me, but she’s just as formal as ever. I quietly nod my agreement.
Blackwood folds her hands over her lap. “Your father contacted me when your aunt was murdered, looking to secure an immediate safe house for you.”
My heart sinks. When Conner relayed the news that Aunt Jo was dead, a part of me wondered if it had happened just then or if it had occurred earlier. And if she was killed before I was admitted, that explains why Dad gave me no warning, no chance to say goodbye to Emily or my other friends. He must have been on high alert the entire time, wondering just how fast he could get us out of there before someone descended on our house. I shudder at the thought of Strategia in Pembrook, and even though I’ve considered it before as an awful possibility, the idea has just graduated to an insistent fear.
“As I told you when you first arrived, we do not typically admit students your age. But with you, nothing is typical. We’ve made exceptions in the past for the children of leading families, and even though you have no formal standing as yet among the Strategia, you fit that qualification in two Families, not one.”
I swallow. I was so convinced I didn’t belong here that I hadn’t really considered who I might be in the Strategia hierarchy.
“Did my dad know his brother was—”
Blackwood gives me a look and I close my mouth. “Your father and I made a deal. I told him his brother was working here and my suspicions about his involvement in several student deaths. In exchange for your protection, he agreed that you would assist in flushing Dr. Conner out—under my guidance, of course.”
I shake my head, scarcely able to process what she just said. “Whoa, hold on. That is one hundred percent not the reason I thought I got in here. My dad made a deal that I would flush out Conner? What was the point of sending me here for protection if I was just going to be exposed to a different kind of danger?”
“I can’t speak for your father,” Blackwood says. “But what I will say is that you were more than up to the task. You not only confirmed my suspicions about Dr. Conner, you exposed his guilt beyond any reasonable doubt. And of course, you know our policy for grievances committed against another person.”
I would respond to that, but I have no words. An eye for an eye. Which means as punishment Conner is now…and I was the one who…I can’t wrap my mind around it. Conner was a threat, I know that. But I threw the knife and the rest…Well, I suppose only Blackwood and the guards know the details.
And I don’t even know where to begin with the way Blackwood and my dad apparently see me—as one of them, as Strategia.
“Your father was always exceptionally good at reading people, and while you may lack skill in that area, I not only see what he sees in you, I think you have hidden talents that haven’t even surfaced yet.”
I tuck my hair behind my ears, flustered. “Then why didn’t he take me with him? He could have explained things, helped me learn things.”
Blackwood sighs. “Even though you’re well trained for having been raised outside of our society, and you think in your own unique tactical way, you lack a deeper knowledge about the Strategia way of life. This was the best place for you to acclimate. It was how your father—and your mother—learned their way as well.”
I want to argue, but I know she’s right. Dad had no time to make a decision and he did the one thing he thought would make me safe and prepare me.
I examine Blackwood. “You knew my dad, didn’t you?”
For a moment she hesitates, then sighs. “Before this, I hadn’t spoken with him in more than a decade, but yes, I knew both of your parents quite well at one point.”
I can tell by her tone that she not only knew them, but that they were close. “Why did Conner hate my parents so much?”
She nods, like she was expecting this question. “Your mother and father were special. They thought they could bring balance and equality back to Strategia, and they had every intention of devoting their lives to it as leaders of their Families. And even in the short time after they left this school, they made some headway. They got the impossible to happen—their Families came to an agreement. But as you might expect, there were members on both sides who were unhappy with their union and felt that balance would never happen or would ultimately mean relinquishing power. Dr. Conner and Jag’s brother were two of those people.”
“This was the uncle my mother killed?” I ask.
“Was accused of killing,” Blackwood corrects me. “No one actually knows what happened. The only thing we do know is that Dr. Conner was present. There was a great deal of suspicion at the time about how the events unfolded, especially since Dr. Conner walked away without so much as a scratch and without confronting your mother. Jag blamed Dr. Conner for not stopping her—he called him the great shame of the Family. As a result, after your father disappeared, Dr. Conner wasn’t named as the next leader, even
though he was next in line. He became reclusive and removed from Strategia society. He changed so much that I barely recognized him when he was assigned to be the assessment officer here.”
I sit there for a moment, trying to make sense of my tangled Family history, where people are constantly killing one another. “Thanks for explaining,” I say, and shift to what I most want to know. “Do you know where my dad is right now?”
She shakes her head and her eyebrows furrow ever so slightly. “I haven’t heard from your father since your admission.”
I frown. “Okay, then can we get in touch with him and find out?” My fear of Strategia in Pembrook comes back full-force.
Blackwood shakes her head.
My heart begins to pound. “Well, did he leave any information for me? A message? Anything that would tell me how I can find him?” My voice is rushed.
“No, I’m sorry.”
I stand up, overwhelmed and unsure how to proceed. “But the Lions could be hunting him down right now,” I say emphatically.
“You’ve completed our agreement,” Blackwood says slowly.
I look at her questioningly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you may stay here and continue your education as your father wished, or you may leave if that’s what you feel is necessary.”
“I can go? You’re letting me go?” I say more to myself than to Blackwood.
Blackwood hesitates. “Technically, you can go. However, I must advise you that there is still a great deal for you to learn and your skills are severely lacking in several areas. But more importantly, you know very little about the Strategia world at large.”
“Maybe so, but there’s no way I can stay here while my dad’s out there all alone. Especially knowing what I now know,” I say. “What happened here with Dr. Conner seems to be just a microcosm of what’s happening out there.”
“The school doesn’t involve itself in outside politics,” she says, even though we both know that the situation between her and Conner was completely political. “I’ll just say again that it would be prudent if you made additional alliances here and learned as much as you can before you leave.”
I take a good look at Blackwood. Her hair is pulled as taut as ever, her look as inscrutable as it was on day one, and I now know that her frilly white shirt, spilling out from under her crisp black blazer, is the perfect metaphor for who she is. She’s clearly trying to help me, to tell me what I need to do, but she won’t say it outright.
“Okay,” I reply, even though I’m not sure yet what she means.
WHEN I FINALLY crack my eyes open, my bedroom curtains are drawn and a candle is lit next to my bed. I’m not all that surprised that I slept through the day. I pull back my covers and inspect the bandages on my arms and legs. There are cuts and bruises all over me. As I step out of bed, I wince.
I walk slowly into the common room, everything aching, but the pain is more manageable than I would have thought. Maybe I’ve just fallen out of so many trees at this point that my body has gotten used to it.
The fire is big and bright and the room feels cozy. But I stop dead in my tracks when I spot Ash and Layla playing cards at the table next to the window.
Layla! She puts down her cards and comes right up to me.
We stand there awkwardly for a second and she looks like she wants to give me a hug but doesn’t know how to approach a gesture like that.
“How long have I been out?” I ask, and my voice has a morning roughness to it.
“It’s just after eight at night,” she says, and starts to lift her arms, but then seems to decide against it and puts them down again.
I would laugh at how awkward she’s being right now, but it would hurt my ribs. “Layla, if you don’t woman up and hug me already, this friendship is off,” I finally say, and lift an eyebrow.
Her smile widens and she carefully wraps her arms around me, like it’s the first hug she’s ever given. She’s about the same size as Emily, and just the thought of Emily and Pembrook makes my heart ache.
“Thank you for saving my stupid brother,” she says into my shoulder.
I nod against her head and we stay like that for a couple of seconds.
She releases me and her eyes are teary, but she tries not to let me see. “Let’s get you to the couch,” she says, and walks next to me in case I need support.
I lower myself slowly onto the cushions. Ash joins us, and he looks as banged up as I feel. As he sits, we make eye contact. He looks so genuinely happy to see me that my stomach does a quick flip.
“How in the world are you up and about right now?” I ask him, looking at his bandages.
He grins. “You seriously thought some poison and these little cuts would set me back?”
Layla rolls her eyes. “What he means is that he came here so I could play nurse to him and he could wait for you to wake up.”
But Ash doesn’t respond with a joke the way he normally would. He just looks at me like he can’t believe I’m real.
Layla glances from Ash to me and back again. She clears her throat. “Pippa stopped by to bring you dinner. She asked me to let her know when you woke up,” she says, and stands. “So I’m just going to, uh, go do that.” It’s obvious that she’s leaving the room to let us talk, but neither of us tells her not to go.
Layla closes the door behind her and Ash and I are left on the couch. He stares at me, those intense eyes burning into my own.
I sigh. “Blackwood gave me a choice,” I say, not sure how to approach this topic. “She said I could stay here or I could leave. That I’d fulfilled an agreement she made with my dad, so my next step was up to me.”
Ash nods at me like he figured as much. “That makes sense.”
“That makes sense to you?” I ask, wrinkling my brow. “It doesn’t really make sense to me.”
“Well,” Ash says. “Aarya more or less told the entire school who your parents are. And the heroic story of how she saved you—emphasis on heroic. Now she’s growling at Brendan every time they pass each other in the hallway.”
“Oh,” I say, not sure how to process that. “And Felix?”
“Well, that one’s a little fuzzy. Aarya’s been vague about how he was involved, although I think people already have their suspicions. But everyone knows that Dr. Conner was vicious. Felix may have had a grudge against you over what happened with his father, but my guess is that Dr. Conner had something he was holding over him, just like he used Layla’s safety to manipulate me.”
“I figured as much,” I say. “That’s why I didn’t out him to Blackwood, even though I’m sure she knows. Speaking of Blackwood, she also told me that I’m not trained as well as I should be and that I should make alliances. Do you know what she meant by that?”
Ash smirks. “She meant that while you’re good—great, even—you’re not ready to navigate the outside Strategia world by yourself. You’ll need the help of the Bears and possibly some of the other Families as well,” he says, casually acknowledging that he knows I’ve decided to leave, even though I haven’t told him yet.
I exhale. “I have to go find my dad,” I say. “I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t and something happened to him.” And even though I feel good about my decision, I’m sad, too. I know there’s every chance that I’ll never see Ash or Layla again.
We’re both silent for a beat.
“I know,” he says.
A lump forms in my throat and I attempt to swallow it down. “Ash—”
“So when do we leave?” he says briskly, and for a brief second, I think I misheard him.
I stare at him in shock.
“What?” A mischievous grin creeps over his face. “You didn’t think I was going to miss out on you single-handedly taking on the Lions, did you? Besides, it’s like the headmaster said: you need all
iances.”
I don’t know whether to kiss him or to cry. “I can’t ask you to leave this place you fought so hard to get into and, more importantly, to leave Layla.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing you’re not asking and I’m volunteering,” he says with a smile.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I,” he says. “Layla and I were always going to lead our Family together, as a team. She’s memorized practically every lesson we’ve ever had here. She’ll just fill me in on anything I miss. And with Dr. Conner gone, she’s safer now than she’s ever been in this school.”
“Okay. But you know there’s a high possibility we won’t live through it,” I say.
“And there’s one hundred percent certainty that you won’t unless I come with you,” he retorts. “You don’t know any of the Strategia safe houses in Europe, and you won’t find them on your own because they’re hidden. Plus, you don’t know the first thing about where to get information and who to trust.”
So that’s what Blackwood actually meant when she told me I wasn’t prepared. “Why, Ash? Why do this?”
“Do you really need to ask?” His eyes drift down to my lips and my stomach flutters. “Amantes sunt amentes.”
Before I can work out the meaning, he smiles. “Lovers are lunatics.” He gently pushes his fingers through my hair and pulls me close. For a split second his mouth lingers an inch away from mine and his breath is warm on my lips. My stomach drops like I’m free-falling.
“You ruined our first kiss,” I whisper. “Don’t screw this one up.”
He grins. “I promise to practice constantly until I get better,” he says, and presses his lips onto mine.
I woke up one morning after having a dream about this story, and it was My Pirate who listened to me brainstorm and encouraged me to grow my idea into this book. In fact, he always listens, he always encourages, and he is always my very first reader. We have been together for nearly twelve years now, and I’m still continuously amazed by how wonderful he is. Here’s to twelve bazillion more (because I plan on stalking him through the afterlife).
Killing November Page 34
