by Elena Lawson
“I’ll find a way. It’s not like I wanted this either.”
Some of the tension leached out of the blonde one’s shoulders and jaw. His expression softened. “We didn’t think something like this was possible.”
I worried the pleats of my skirt, eyes downcast. “Neither did I,” I admitted. “What can I call you? My name’s Harper,” I added weakly, even though we were long past the point of civil introductions.
“I’m Adrian,” the blonde one who was still standing mere inches in front of me said, some of the ire gone from his voice. I got the feeling Adrian was the hotheaded type. Acting first and considering the implications later. “And he’s Cal,” he said, jabbing a thumb in the direction of his friend.
Cal grabbed Adrian by the arm, tugging him back a few feet. “I’d rather not tell Atlas if we don’t have to,” he said in a low whisper, and I looked away, pretending I couldn’t hear. A blush turned the sides of my face hot all the way to the tips of my ears.
I was trying not to eavesdrop, I swear… but I couldn’t help it. I gathered from their clipped, hushed conversation that Atlas was their leader—or their alpha I guess. Watching the two Endurans argue, I suddenly wondered where they were from. They looked to be in their early twenties, if not even younger. But like the other races, they were blessed with extraordinarily long lives. Not as long as Fae lived, or vamps, but a lot longer than witches.
How far had they traveled from their pack land when they happened upon me in the woods?
It must’ve been far. I doubted any Endurans would purposefully live so close to a witch academy.
After a few more tense moments, the one named Adrian raised his honey amber eyes to rest a hard steady stare on me. “We’ll give you a week,” he said, and there was no room for argument in his tone. “Then we tell Atlas, and resort to other… methods of severing the bond.”
A week. They were giving me a week to do something that to my knowledge had never been done before. But I had to find a way to do it. They hadn’t said it outright, but it was certainly implied. If I didn’t succeed…
I shivered at the thought.
“Agreed,” I said before I could change my mind or say something stupid.
Without another word, the two Enduran males turned away. And in the same movement used to drop their shorts to the forest floor, there was a horrible snapping, popping sound—like when your spine cracks all the way from the bottom to the top, except stronger, louder. And then before I could blink the two naked men were gone, and in their place were two wolves.
One with Adrian’s gold ones, and the other with Cal’s green ones, like oakmoss drenched in sunlight. They were both silvery gray, but Adrian had a flick of stark white on his forehead and paws. And Cal’s tail was tipped in black as though it’d been dipped in a paint bucket. They were magnificent.
They each cut me one last glance before racing off back the way they’d come, their claws turning up dirt in their wake.
They were fast. The fastest things I’d ever seen. And I waited until I couldn’t see them—until I couldn’t hear them anymore before the reality of what happened finally crashed over me and I sprinted back to the academy, feeling my body weaken and grow more sluggish with each step I took away from my familiars.
10
I didn’t get more than fifteen paces before I passed through the ward. My skin bristled at the foreign magic as my body broke through. She appeared a split-second later and I couldn’t slow myself down in time. We went down in a mass of bruised and tangled limbs—in plumes of blonde and red hair.
All the air was knocked from my lungs, and I wheezed. Waiting for it to return so I could scream at her. How long had she been there? What had she seen?
What had she heard?
Stupid! How hadn’t I noticed she followed me? I thought she’d gone inside…
I gulped air down, gasping. After a few labored breaths the tightness in my chest began to ease.
She moaned, holding her wrist as she moved to stand back up. Her eyes shot furtive glances at me, a worried furrow pulling her brows inward. She managed to look both guilty and completely innocent at the same time. I didn’t know what to think.
“What…” I said in a strained version of my voice, still trying to get air to my lungs. “The… hell… are you doing out here, Bianca!”
She gave me an impish half smile. Implored me to understand with an apologetic stare. “I saw you going into the woods alone… I—I was worried you were going to run away. I just—”
“You just what?” I practically shouted, brushing dirt and leaves off my backside as I moved to stand, my joints groaning.
“Didn’t want you to leave…” she trailed off, unable to meet my eyes. “And then I saw those two guys with you and I just knew they were Endurans. They looked so angry and I was afraid they might hurt you. So, I stayed hidden in case—well, I don’t know, in case you needed help or something.”
Idiot, I thought. But an honest idiot. It was plain to see she wasn’t lying. She really was just worried and trying to help.
I felt instantly deflated. She was lucky the Endurans hadn’t heard her or seen her coming. I shuddered to think what they might’ve done.
“Did you hear us?” I asked her, a chill creeping along my shoulder blades.
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and gnawed on the baby pink flesh. “Not really,” she replied, shrugging. “But maybe I could help. Are you in some sort of trouble?”
I laughed, and the sound was shrill and broken. I laughed because, well, what else could I do? Was I in trouble…
She had no idea.
Bianca looked at me like I was crazy, raising her eyebrows. “Are you okay?” she asked, worry lines creasing her forehead as she reached out to place a hand on my shoulder.
My laughter quickly morphed into horrible, wracking sobs. No, I was not all right.
“Oh, Harper,” she said, and tugged me into an embrace that smelled of sweet perfume and clean cotton.
Being friends with the headmaster’s niece had perks. When I finally stopped crying and we walked back onto the academy’s grounds, Bianca had given the phys-ed teacher one sharp look and snapped, “I’m taking her to her room,” when he tried to stop us from entering the building.
He’d sucked in a breath and straightened his shoulders but said nothing. Having friends in high places wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
“Here,” she said, holding a silver flask out to me after we’d entered our dorm room and shut the door behind us. “It’ll calm you down,” she explained when I didn’t take it right away. “Take some of the edge off, if you know what I mean.”
I took a long swallow and choked. The strong, acrid flavor of the liquor burned down my throat. Confused, I looked up at her from where I sat on the bed. “You really aren’t who I thought you were, you know.”
She rolled her light brown eyes, pulling her albino rabbit onto her lap as she sat down on the edge of her own bed across from me.
She absently began stroking its soft fur. “Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “My uncle is great. He’s a good man…” she trailed off and I wondered if she was trying to convince me or herself.
“But he has these—these expectations of me. As the headmaster of the academy, but also as a council member, he expects me to be…” She pursed her lips, considering how best to explain it.
“Someone other than yourself,” I offered. It didn’t make me feel better to learn the man responsible for ensuring I served my punishment was also a member of the Arcane Council. But it wasn’t surprising. Of course, he would be.
She nodded. “Exactly. And I get it, really, I do. He’s kind of a big deal, and what I do affects his image. It sucks, but that’s the way it is… and I don’t have anyone else.”
I knew what that was like. Trying so hard to fit into a mold created for you. Granted, other than never being able to set down roots or make friends, I never really minded living the life of a traveling gypsy.
And Leo and Lara mostly let me do as I pleased.
But since coming to the academy, I felt the pressure to conform. It was suffocating. And I didn’t even come from a rich family with expectations. Not for the first time, I felt as though I could trust Bianca, regardless of her connection with the headmaster.
I gritted my teeth and stood, pushing the flask back into Bianca’s hand. She took a small sip before twisting the cap back on and tucking it away into a drawer in her vanity.
“They’re my familiars,” I said before I could stop myself.
Her face scrunched up in confusion and she leaned back, her eyes searching my face. I saw the moment what I’d said clicked in her mind. Her mouth fell slack and her eyes widened. “No freaking way!” she exclaimed, sitting bolt upright. “That’s—” she started, managing to look shocked, confused, excited, and horrified all at once. “But that’s impossible.”
I fell back on my bed, staring up at the yellowed stucco ceiling. “Apparently not.”
“Shit,” she said, and I heard the springs of her mattress creak as she stood, and the sound of her feet as she paced back and forth between our beds. “If you’re serious, we have to tell somebody. This is, like, the biggest thing to happen in the witching community since—”
“No!” I interrupted her, pushing myself up onto my elbows. “No, Bianca, you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone. Please.”
She stopped pacing. “Why?”
“Because if our—my plan works,” I said, hurriedly correcting my use of our. I wasn’t yet ready to tell anyone about Elias Fitzgerald’s offer to help me, or the strange connection we seemed to share. She wouldn’t understand… I wasn’t even sure I did. “There will be nothing to tell.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean there won’t be anything to tell?”
I licked my suddenly dry lips and clasped my hands together, squeezing tight. “Because—I’m going to sever the bond.”
Bianca was appalled at my plan to sever the familiar bond. I could tell she was still reeling from learning that something like bonding to an Enduran—never mind two Endurans—was even possible, but it was finding out my intent to break the bond that seemed to shock her the most.
She’d looked at her own familiar, with a sad fondness in her gaze, likely imagining what it would be like not to have her.
I couldn’t say I fully understood that feeling. But even though the bond between Cal, Adrian, and I was still new and hadn’t had a chance to fully strengthen, the thought of cutting them away made my pulse quicken and my stomach turn.
It was unnatural to break a familiar’s bond. And the wrongness of the idea made my skin crawl. But I’d promised them I’d find a way, and I intended to.
Which was how I found myself searching the academy for Elias after dinner. I hoped he’d been able find something, or at least had a lead or two. I would have to tell him about what happened in the woods, and of our new time constraints. We now had seven days to make the impossible possible.
After what felt like at least an hour of wandering the hallways, I found him where I’d first bumped into him. He had his nose in an old tome, furiously scouring the pages with brows knit together and a tight jaw as he came around the corner from the faculty wing of the building.
I wondered if he had an office down there.
As though sensing my presence, he looked up, doing a double take when he realized it was me coming toward him. Was that a small smile twitching at the corner of his mouth? I grinned at him, rushing past Headmaster Sterling’s office on my toes. Trying to make as little noise as possible.
“What are you doing down here?” he asked, looking up the hallway the way I’d come, and back toward the fork that led to the faculty offices and living quarters. All was quiet.
His adams apple bobbed.
“Looking for you,” I replied, remembering why I had to come find him, and frowning. “I have to talk to you,” I said, more seriously, my voice breathy with anxiety. He tucked his book under his arm, and reached out a hand to reassure me, setting it lightly on my the spot just above my elbow. His palm was warm against my perpetually cool skin, and I quivered at the contact.
He recoiled as though shocked, snapping me from the momentary euphoria.
“What is it?” he asked, his tone clipped and voice low. “Is everything alright?” Elias tucked his hand—the one he’d touched me with—into the pocket of his jacket, glancing at it as though it was a wild animal that needed leashing. He wore a beat-up leather coat with what looked like woolen lining. It suited him.
He must’ve been on his way out to his cabin for the night. I was certain he’d never dress in leather and jeans in front of the students or other faculty. They seemed, I don’t know… too poise for that.
After a deep and calming breath, I relayed to him everything that’d happened in the woods as quickly as I could—omitting only the part about telling Bianca. I watched as his expression became more strained, his eyes more dark with each word I spoke.
“You did what?” he nearly shouted when I’d finished, and suddenly I felt very small.
“I had to see what they wanted,” I snapped, the words coming out laced with indignation and something more like venom. “What would you have had me do?”
“Not put yourself in danger,” he spat back, his eyes stormier than usual, shrouded in darkness.
Just then a door clicked open and the headmaster’s voice floated down the hallway toward us. I jumped, letting loose a short gasp before Elias grabbed me by the hand and whirled my body into a small alcove a few feet from where we’d been standing.
He pressed his own body flush against mine so we both could fit. His fingers drew the simple warding sigil behind us, it lit up and glowed blue before it faded into a rippling shield at his back.
There were two voices coming closer to the hallway. Two deep, aged baritones, one I recognized to be Atticus Sterling. But I wasn’t focusing on them.
Elias stood very still, and with my back against the wall, I had nowhere to move. My hands rested against his chest, and I could feel the strong, insistent thrumming of his heartbeat beneath the wiry muscle. His cold mountain pine and spice scent clouded my mind and before I realized what I was doing, I had rested my cheek against him.
I couldn’t help but notice how his hand still grasped my waist, keeping me pressed against the wall. I arched my back and lifted my chin to look up at him. I found him staring down at me, his nostrils flared slightly, his eyes hungry and intense. His lips parted and something did a little summersault deep in my belly.
And then he froze.
He cocked his head, tilting one ear closer to the ward to hear.
Oh, no! Were they coming this way?
I struggled to hear them, too, forcing the drumming of my pulse to calm with shallow, quiet breaths. Compelling the tension to ease from my limbs.
“...I can assure you the girl knows nothing, and all the other loose ends were taken care of long ago.” Who was the headmaster talking to? I listened harder.
“Mmmm,” said the other man. “And this professor of yours—the woman who was asking questions?”
Elias and I shared a look, his grip on my waist tightened infinitesimally. They were talking about Ms. Granger. They had to be. She was the only female professor at the academy. But what had she been asking questions about? And why was that so bad?
I got the distinct feeling that this was not a conversation meant to be overheard.
“A former friend of Alistair’s, but no more than that.” My hand flew up to cover my mouth, and my breathing hitched at the mention of his name. Could they have been talking about my father? What were the chances that I’d only just learned of him the day before—from Ms. Granger no less—and now the headmaster was speaking to this other man about someone with same name. It seemed too big a coincidence.
Elias narrowed his eyes at me, mouthed, you okay?
I didn’t respond. Just held up a finger to hush him. I needed t
o be able to hear.
“She is no threat,” Headmaster Sterling assured the other man. “I’m sure of it.”
“See it stays that way,” said the other man in an offhanded, bored sort of tone.
“Yes, Magistrate. I shall.”
No. Freaking. Way.
The Magistrate was here. Freaking Godric Montgomery—the head of the Arcane Council and the guy who oversaw the entire witching community in the USA was at Arcane Arts Academy, talking to the headmaster about... about my dad?
Elias was shocked, too, and searched the airspace above my head for an answer. His expression was thoughtful as he tried to make sense of it. When he met my gaze, his expression softened, and he brought up his hand to rest against my cheek. I sighed at the comfort the small contact brought. “What is it, Harper?” he whispered when Godric’s retreating footsteps grew further away, and the door to Sterling’s office clicked back shut.
I looked away, unable to hold Elias’ gaze. “They were talking about my father.”
11
My tea had grown cold. I was too frazzled to drink it, or to do anything more than sit stupefied on the tiny loveseat in Elias’ cabin. When the hallways were clear again, Elias had wrapped a ward around us like a cloak and we’d snuck out to his cabin.
I was impressed—not just anyone could hold up a ward while in motion, and not for as long as it took for us to cross the academy grounds and get under cover of the trees. But he’d done it without breaking a sweat.
That didn’t matter, though. And I hardly noticed how effortless his power came—the riot of thoughts crashing and running in my mind made any other mundane thought evaporate. I couldn’t make sense of it. They had to be talking about my dad. But why?
“Your father was a powerful witch,” Elias said from where he sat in one of the wrought-iron chairs opposite me. I’d told him who my father was, and he’d known the name right away. I supposed dear old dad had made something of a name for himself before he died.
