by Bailey, G.
I nod, and watch as she vanishes in an instant. Off to go collect more students. It’s only then that I realise I’m still holding Landon’s hand, and I our eyes meet briefly; he grins, giving my hand a squeeze before letting go, and I cross my arms as I turn to face the rest of my group. “This is amazing,” Hazel says, her eyes wide as she stares around at the campus. “I wasn’t expecting something so modern. I mean, don’t get me wrong, our Academy is nice and all, but…”
“Don’t kid yourself,” Shade tells her. “It’s stuffy as hell. This is much more my speed.”
“Would you mind at least waiting until we’ve settled in before you start setting things on fire, or whatever it is you do?” Silas asks, rubbing his forehead.
Shade shoots him a look. “No promises, big boy.”
My attention has already returned to the buildings in the distance. “It’s awfully bold of them to put it right in the middle of a city,” I remark. “Aren’t they worried humans will stumble across it or something?”
“Why would they be?” Hunter asks, turning to me. “This is a shifter suburb. It’s obvious—everywhere around here. I’m guessing it’s a gated neighbourhood, too.”
“How on earth do you know that?” Landon asks him.
Hunter just shrugs. “Spend enough time with the mucky mucks of the shifter community and you start to get a nose for these things.” There’s a brief pause, and then he adds, a little gruffly, “Now if I could just get a nose for actual shapeshifting, I’ll be golden.”
At that moment, the group of board members and professors appears on the grass of the hillside, with Hawthorne at the front. He says something to one of the others, and they turn around to assess the assembled students. More and more are manifesting every minute, and before long what seems like the entire student body is crowded on the sidewalk, talking excitedly and waiting for instructions.
“Hawthorne,” comes a new voice from the top of the hill. It’s honey-sweet and crystal-clear, belonging to an attractive, dark-haired woman dressed in a blue uniform, not unlike our own, that matches her ocean-blue eyes. “I’m glad to see you all made it here okay.” Her accent is distinctly American, with an unmistakable East Coast twang. She sweeps us with her gaze, clasping her hands in front of her. “I knew there would be a lot of you, but I wasn’t expecting quite this many.”
“We’ve brought along all our students,” Hawthorne replies. “If that’s going to be a problem, though…”
“No, not at all,” she replies, shaking her head. “We actually just remodeled, and we’ve got plenty of open dorms. The students have been buzzing for days about getting to meet some of their counterparts from across the pond.”
“As have we,” Hawthorne agrees, before turning to the assembled students. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he says, “I would like to introduce you all to Rosemary Russo. She’s the President of the American branch of the Shifter Academy. I expect you all to treat her with the same respect you would show to me, or any of my colleagues. Is that clear?”
There’s a murmur of assent from the crowd of students, but Russo waves him off. “Don’t get too hung up on formalities,” she tells him. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I’m sure we’re all itching to see where this little conference of ours takes us.”
“On that, we can agree,” Hawthorne says.
“Well,” continues Russo, “I don’t want to keep anyone waiting. If your students are all here, then we can give them a quick tour of the campus and let them get set up in their rooms. No sense in sticking around in the parking lot, yeah?”
Hawthorne gives her a brisk nod.
“You heard the lady,” Josie says, ushering us up the path onto the hill. “Let’s go see what this place has to offer.”
We head up the slope and into the front lot, looking like a herd of white-clad horses on the fresh green grass. Hawthorne and Russo are at the front of the group, and the rest of us follow them like ducklings, making our way into the front entrance hall. A long, windowed hallway extends in the back, leading to a set of twin staircases. There’s a reception desk, along with a bunch of smaller, branching hallways lined with classrooms on either side. The ceilings are high, letting in an absurd amount of light. A few students dressed in gold uniforms are milling about the room, and they look at us like we’re a new, exotic species of animal as we flood the entrance hall. A couple of them jostle each other and point, while a few more murmur excitedly to one another.
“This is the main hall,” announces Russo, making a sweeping gesture with her arm. We have the reception desk here, and off to the left is the registrar’s office. Those stairs in the back lead to the upper floors - there are three, altogether, divided into wings based on shifter form. On the east side is our auditorium, as well as a couple lecture halls for the theory classes, and the nurse’s office can be found that way.” She points over her shoulder towards the far corner of the room.
We come to a stop in front of the reception desk, where a tall, handsome older guy dressed in the gold student uniform is looking at something over the receptionist’s shoulder. His hair is dark brown and on the long side, and he has the inhumanly pale complexion that I’ve come to see as characteristic of vampire shifters. He straightens up when Russo approaches, giving her a brisk nod. “President Russo,” he says, turning his gaze to the rest of us. “I assume these are the U.K. students?”
“That’s right, Mr. Morgan,” Russo says. “I’m wondering if you wouldn’t mind showing them to the dorms? If everything is taken care of, that is…”
“Of course,” he replies. “I was just going over the living arrangements with Mrs. Palmer, here.”
“Excellent.” The President turns back to us, rubbing her hands together. “All right, everyone,” she says, “I’ll have the faculty accompany me to the guest house where they’ll be staying. As for the rest of you…” She puts a hand on the tall guy’s shoulder. “This is Lyle Morgan. He’s in his third year here, a vampire shifter, and one of our Resident Assistants. He’ll be explaining your housing assignments for the time that you’re here. If you have any questions about where to find things on campus, he’s who you should turn to. But I’ll let him handle that, himself.”
“Gladly, President,” the guy, Lyle, replies, his eyes sweeping over the crowd. For a moment, they settle on me, and the corner of his mouth quirks up, but I don’t have time to think about it; the look is gone in an instant as he clears his throat and beckons to the assembled students. “All right,” he says, accepting a paper from the receptionist before taking a step backward to look at us. “The dorm building is just on the other side,” he says. “If you’ll follow me this way…” He leads the throng of students down the main hall and out a separate door on the other side, where a lawn full of modern sculptures and flowering plants gives way to a set of equally gorgeous buildings.
“This is nice,” Silas observes, falling into step alongside me.
“Damn right,” agrees Landon. “I think I could get used to this.”
“Don’t get too comfortable,” I warn them, laughing a little. “We’re not here for long.”
“Exactly,” Landon replies. “Which is why I plan to make the most of it.” He winks at me, and I stifle an eye roll, even though I can feel my heart do a little flip-flop.
The dorm building reminds me a lot of the one back at our campus, except with modern architecture and furniture that reminds me a little bit of a hotel lobby. The biggest difference is that the rooms start on the ground floor and there doesn’t seem to be a division between male and female dorms. Lyle turns to us, examining the piece of paper. “Well, let’s not drag this out,” he says. “This is a new building, and there are only a handful of American students currently rooming here. We have suite-style dorms here, which means a shared common area with four connecting rooms each. We were originally planning to give assignments ourselves, but this was a bit of a rush job. So…” He shrugs his shoulders. “They’ve decided to leave it up to you guys to
pick your rooms. Any issues you have, I would be happy to assist. So… I guess that’s all she wrote. Go crazy, or whatever.”
He puts his hands behind his back, and the rest of us look around in confusion, waiting for some kind of further instructions. When none come, and it becomes clear that we really are being left to our own devices, the students begin to disperse in a practical frenzy. I glance back at the others with a questioning look on my face. “Well, you heard the man,” Shade says, crossing his arms and smirking. “Let’s figure out where we’re gonna be shacking up for this little adventure.”
Chapter 33
I can’t help but feel a rush of excitement as I follow Hazel and the guys out of the common area and up to the dorm level. While the dorms back home have a bit of an austere feel to them, like a convent or a monastery, the upper floor here looks practically like a hotel room, with modern glass fixtures and numbered doors stretching along either wall. On the front of each suite door is a white board marked with the names of the residents inside, although as Lyle said, it seems like this building is mostly empty. Other students are already peering into rooms with an almost childlike glee, and I can’t blame them—we’ve more or less been given free reign here, and Landon was right: we ought to make the most of it.
“What about this one?” asks Silas, pausing in front of one of the doors on the right.
“Sorry, taken!” comes a voice from inside, followed by a chorus of muffled agreements.
“This is why you’ve got to be on the ball, Aconite,” Shade tells him, continuing down the hall. “First come, first serve.”
“All right, all right,” Silas says, rolling his eyes. We share a brief look, and I quirk an eyebrow at him, making the big dragon shifter break out in a grin.
“You know, I wasn’t expecting them to have coed suites,” Hazel remarks thoughtfully, crossing her arms as I push open another door and peer cautiously inside. “These Americans are… progressive.”
“What do you mean by that?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder.
She winks at me. “I think you know what I mean, Brix.”
“Ladies, ladies,” Landon says, pushing between us, “there’s no need for such risque talk. You’re looking at a group of bona fide gentlemen. Isn’t that right, Hunter?”
The vampire shifter rolls his eyes. “Try telling that to Shade.”
Shade just grins at the rest of us as he comes to stand beside me in the common area. It’s surprisingly roomy, with floor to ceiling windows on one side, along with a balcony that overlooks the vast lawn, with a view of downtown in the distance. There’s a small kitchenette, along with a table and chairs and a sofa. “Is this what the high life feels like?” he asks with a mocking wonder in his voice, his gray eyes wide.
“I have to admit, it’s impressive,” observes Silas, hugging his elbows as he stops on my other side. “Why can’t we have rooms like this back home?”
“That would go against their whole vibe,” Landon responds. “Self-flagellation is kind of their thing.” Landon replies.
“Easy there,” Shade warns him. “Keep up that flagellation talk and things might just get interesting.”
Landon stares at him for a moment and then bursts out laughing, clapping him on the shoulder. The ease with which we’ve all learned to banter with one another is astounding, especially considering the tension between us when we first got to know one another. But these guys and I are tethered to one another through more than just a shared detention, and that fact has never been lost on any of them. For all our distances, we share a common thread, one that’s stronger than anyone - the Academy included - gives us credit for.
“Well,” I say, putting my hands on my hips, “I guess we’d better claim this place before someone else does.”
Hazel hangs back by the door. “Looks like you guys have found your place, then.”
I turn back to my friend and immediately feel a pang of guilt at having forgotten about her. Guiltily, I look around the room. There are only five bedrooms connecting to the suite. “Listen,” I say, clearing my throat, “maybe it would be better if we leave the guys in here. You and I can find another suite with a couple of free rooms.” Glancing back over my shoulder, I add dryly, “Maybe it’s for the best we let the boys here have some space.”
Hazel laughs good-naturedly, holding up a hand. “Oh, please, Millie. Who am I to step on any toes?”
I give her a questioning look, crossing my arms. “You guys should be able to stick together,” she elaborates. I open my mouth to protest, but she shakes her head. “It’s not just because the chemistry between you guys is off the charts,” she says, grinning, “although it is.”
I duck my head, my face flushing bright red, and steal a glance back at the guys. Silas’ expression is unreadable, while Landon and Shade exchange a look. Hunter just stares at the floor, although if I didn’t know better, I would think the slightest smidge of a blush is lighting up his deathly pallor. Hazel continues, her expression turning serious again. “Look, there are other things to consider, too. The Academy fucked with all of you guys when you were babies - those are the facts. And if—if—something happens while we’re all here for this conference…” She shakes her head. “I’m just saying, they’ve tried to pull this shit once already, with the kidnappings and experiments.” Her eyes move to Silas, who shuffles his feet. “You guys need to be able to protect each other, especially in a new place like this. It makes sense.”
“Are you sure, Hazel?” I ask, even though what she’s saying makes sense. If Silas is right, and Hawthorne has something up his sleeve for this trip… then she’s right. We need to be in each other’s corners. I made a promise to survive this while protecting the people I care about, and the best way to do that right now is to keep my friends close. As for Hazel… “This goes for you, too,” I tell her. “They know you’re our friend, too, Hazel. I don’t want you getting dragged into this, either.”
“I’ll be fine,” she begins. “I-”
The sound of a clearing throat draws all of our attention back to the door. Standing in the doorway are two of the American students. They’re both slim, with black hair and dark eyes, and it’s obvious that they’re brother and sister—maybe even twins. “I hope we aren’t interrupting something,” says the guy.
I shake my head quickly. “No, nothing. We were just trying to figure out this room situation.” Eyes widening, I hasten to add, “If you guys were already in this room, we can leave, though!”
“No, no, it’s not that,” the girl assures us, holding up a hand. “We just couldn’t help but overhear. This is the problem with the suites here—five rooms is such an odd number.” Putting a hand to her chest, she says, “My name is Ruby Murakami. This is my brother, Xander.”
“Nice to meet you,” the guy, Xander, says. “We’re in the suite across the hall. It’s just the two of us there right now, so if you want, you can come room with us.” He gives Hazel a winning smile that lights up his face. “I know it’s not right next door or anything, but if you guys all want to be close…”
In spite of the obvious problem that they must have overheard us swapping conspiracy theories about the Academy, I feel a wave of relief as I turn to Hazel. “I… Wow,” she says, blinking, a small smile of her own echoing Xander’s. “That would be fantastic, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Ruby replies. “We’d be lying if we said we weren’t excited about having U.K. students here. You guys will be the first international shifters we’ve ever met.”
“Likewise, actually,” says Silas, and he begins to nod to each of us. “My name’s Silas Aconite. This here is Hunter Ash—his parents are on the Academy board. Then we have Shade Ivis, Landon Thyme…” His eyes come to rest on me. “And this is Millie Brix.”
“And my name is Hazel,” Hazel finishes. “Hazel Harris. AKA the person who owes you guys both a big favour.”
“Oh, please,” Ruby laughs, flapping a hand at her. “It’s our pleasure. Although…�
�� She and her brother exchange a look, although the look in their eyes is one of good humour. “What’s all this about kidnappings and experiments?”
* * *
If you asked me a while ago how I would feel about the prospect of sharing a suite with four other, incredibly attractive guys—who also happen to be both my classmates and the source of my powers - I would have balked. Surprisingly, though, our first night in the dorms wasn’t nearly as awkward as I was expecting it to be. I think it helps that even though our rooms are connected, there’s still a level of privacy in each having our own bedroom. Even more surprisingly, instead of nerves or jitters at being within feet of these guys—all of whom have me feeling more confused than I’ve ever been in my life—there’s something comforting about it, a sense of oneness that I can’t put my finger on. As cliche as it sounds, being in the same living quarters as the guys feels right, somehow, like it’s meant to be, and when I’m not struggling to put labels on my feelings for each of them, I find myself put at ease by their presence. The last time—the only time—I’ve been in such close proximity to a guy was the night that I spent with Silas, which I haven’t forgotten… but having them all near is a nice feeling, at the end of the day.
Unlike at our campus, the dining hall at the American Academy is a separate building from the academic one. Although the breakfast spread this morning was no less impressive, although a touch more heavy. The only downside to this all is the fact that the very next day, our classes have already started back up, and that means we’ll have to wait until the first day of the conference to really experience the city. Still, you can’t win them all, I guess, and it’s still an adventure. Funny that I should be so used to the Academy already that just a change of scenery qualifies as an adventure.
