by Eden Beck
I can feel myself becoming tipsy. I wobble on my stool a little when I lean a little too far forward to stare some more. There’s a buzz in my veins, heavier than the feeling from the devil’s breath earlier. I scowl as I remember sitting across from Sawyer just a few hours ago, unknowingly spilling my goddamn guts. Piers, Owen, and Bennett may have hurt me, but what Sawyer did was betrayal.
Like I conjured them; Piers, Owen, and Bennett burst through the door to the tavern, stumbling and laughing as they do. I put my hood up and shrink back, hoping they won’t see me, but I have nothing to fear. They’re not paying attention as they drift to the only empty table at the opposite end of the bar.
A waiter goes over to them. They order in broken Romanian, and I’m impressed in spite of myself. The waiter leaves and comes back with beers a minute later. It’s obvious that they’ve been pre-gaming. Piers and Owen are already a little sloppy, and Bennett has a goofy smile slapped across his face.
I try to turn away and focus on myself, but my eyes keep getting drawn back to them. The more beer I drink the louder they get. Their voices carry over the din of the bar, but I’m not sure if that’s because they’re literally louder than everyone else or because they’re the only ones speaking a language even my drunken mind can understand.
“Well, boys, to failing!” Piers says, clinking his beer against the other boys’.
“It’s gonna be me that gets dropped,” Owen says, settling back in his chair. “I’ve got the lowest scores.”
“Wanna bet?” Bennett asks. “After the score Davies just gave me, it’ll be me for sure.”
“No,” Owen tells him, grabbing his shoulder. “It’s really gonna be me, dude. You’re so great. Like, really great.”
He’s easily the drunkest of the three. He’s barely able to sit upright in his chair, even with one hand clutching at Bennett’s collar. Their faces are so close together … it almost looks like they’re about to kiss.
I know I’m just imagining it, but I’ll admit … the idea is kind of hot.
“It’ll be me,” Piers chimes in, but the other boys shout their disagreement.
“Your dad won’t let that happen!” Owen yells, his words slurring.
“Who are you kidding? My dad would love to lord that over me,” Piers retorts.
Bennett reaches a long arm across the table and grabs Piers’ arm, giving it a shake. “You gotta stop putting so much stock in what your dad thinks, man.” He’s starting to get as sloppy as the others. “He doesn’t know the real you.”
“Yeah,” Owen agrees. “You’re a badass, no matter what he says.”
“Thanks, guys.” Piers smiles softly at them.
They’re so adorable, it sickens me. I shouldn’t be the one feeling lonely tonight, not after everything they’ve done.
Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve grabbed my beer and slid off my seat. Taking wobbly, lurching steps, I make my way across the tavern to their table. They spot me before I get there, their eyes widening as I saunter drunkenly up. The world is spinning a little, and the ground feels uneven beneath me feet.
Somehow, I make it and slide into the booth next to Piers. He scoots over, astonished.
“Buy me a beer, boys,” I say.
To my surprise, Piers signals the waiter and orders four more beers.
“Cheers!” I raise my booze, and they clink theirs against mine. “To assholes,” I proclaim as I drink.
“You mean us?” Owen asks.
“Nope! I mean Sawyer.”
They look surprised. They all share a glance, and then lean toward me.
“Something happen with you and Sawyer?” Piers asks.
“Obviously. Another.” I push my empty glass toward the center of the table. It slides too far, but Bennett catches it before it falls.
Piers throws his arm around my shoulder. “You guys broke up?”
“We were never not,” I say as the next round of beers arrives. “I mean, we weren’t—there was nothing to break up from.” My words are slurring and I’m a little confused. I laugh. “I’ve been here a while,” I tell them. I drink a little, and then throw Piers’ arm off me as I realize it’s there. “Hey. Don’t get all cozy with me.”
“We just wanna help,” Bennett says.
“Yeah,” Owen agrees. He reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “We—” he belches “—wanna help you, Avery.”
“Bullshit!” I yank my hand away and try to stand, but the table blocks me. I fall back into the booth, against Piers. “You guys got Aurora killed.”
They all share a glance, then Bennett says, a little quieter but still slurred, “Avery, I’m sorry about—”
“I don’t even know why I came over here. You guys are all assholes.” I disentangle myself from Piers and lurch away from the booth. I hear their voices yelling my name as I stumble away, tugging my hood up, and leave the bar.
It’s cold. Damn, it’s cold. I squint and look around, a little lost. Why did I go sit with them? I feel myself yearning to go back inside, to let them comfort me for the hurt they caused, but instead I try to walk back toward the school. I only make it a few steps before I stumble and fall face-first into the snow.
“Avery!” Hands grab my shoulders and pull me out of the snowbank. Bennett’s face fills my vision.
“Assholes!” I yell in his face.
He frowns and guides me back toward the tavern. Owen’s leaning against the wall outside, trying to light a cigarette, and Piers is standing next to him.
“Why do you guys do all this shit to me, huh?” I demand of them as Bennett walks me over. “Why?”
“You have to be punished!” Piers shouts back. “You—you—” I watch as he drunkenly searches for words. “You—made us look bad!”
There it is. The bottom of it. I always knew it was petty.
I blow a raspberry at him. “You guys took the written test and I didn’t. You made you look bad. You’re just making me a sssss …” I pause. “A scapegoat.”
Enraged, Piers grabs me by the shoulders, yanking me away from Bennett.
“Piers,” Bennett says warningly behind me.
“Fuck you, Avery,” Piers mumbles, his face close to mine. “Fuck you with your—your long hair and your—your waist and—your ass.”
“My what?”
And then he kisses me.
I’m stunned. I’m angry. But I know, deep down, that this is what I’ve wanted for a long time. I reach up and grab his hair, pulling him closer.
One of his hands swings around to cup that same ass, but he barely gets a good feel before a hand on my arm yanks me away from Piers. Bennett is staring at me.
“Avery,” he says, looking into my face … and then he kisses me, too.
Another hand, another yank, and Owen pulls me to him and kisses me deeply, his hands running up my back.
There’s a third hand on me, and it runs back down to my ass. I lean my head back to find Piers standing close behind me, his breath hot against my cold neck. I fall into his chest and kiss him, my own hands still on Owen. Bennett steps close and wraps his arms around me, and I’m in the middle of all three of them, warm even in the winter night.
Someone’s hands grab at my breasts. I moan softly. Someone else’s hands snake between my legs. I don’t know who’s doing what, and I don’t care. I reach behind me and find a bulge through pants. It must be Piers. I rub teasingly against it until hear him moan in my ear.
“Avery,” Owen says in front of me, a pleading look on his face. I take my other hand and run it down his chest to his bulge. Bennett leans into me and I kiss him, my tongue slipping between my lips to touch his.
It’s here, making out with Bennett with my hands on Owen and Piers, that I realize how fucked up this is. We’re outside. Anyone could see us. But for good measure, I switch to Owen, kissing him deeply, then switch to Piers. There’s so many hands on me in so many places that I can’t keep track.
It isn’t until the door to the tavern swings open
with a crash, and not far off, before I sober up enough to snap back to reality. I push Piers off and bat away all their hands. Feeling much more sober, I step back from them, panting while I adjust my clothes. I didn’t even realize that my coat had come unzipped, or my pants unbuttoned.
“Okay,” I say. “That’s enough.”
“What now?” Owen asks. His face is flushed red, and his excitement still throbs in his jeans for anyone to see.
Piers shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says, locking eyes with me. His serious expression is a little undercut by him zipping up his fly. “This changes nothing.”
I nod. “Right. This changes nothing. I’m going back to the school.”
Bennett nods and walks straight back into the tavern. After a moment, Piers and Owen follow, but not before Owen casts a longing look over his shoulder at me. I can’t help but return it. Which one do I want more? Does it matter?
I turn my back on the warm tavern, on the trampled snow where just a few moments ago we all stood, and begin my long walk back to the school.
Maybe the cold air will clear my head.
What was I thinking? Clearly, I wasn’t.
The thought doesn’t stop the ache between my thighs.
The main road is blissfully clean of snow, so I make my way there and follow along it. The ground still feels tilted and uneven beneath me. I blink, but my vision is still blurry. I lurch my way along the road, stopping occasionally to let out a small belch.
It’s taking a lot longer to get back up to the school than it did to get down here in the first place.
Eventually I hear a car coming, so I shuffle over to the side to let it pass. It doesn’t pass however, but slows down and the driver’s side window rolls down.
“Black?”
I look over. Professor Helsing stares at me in disbelief. I stop and the car brakes beside me. He sighs and jerks his head at the passenger’s seat.
“Get in,” he growls.
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. It’s a relief to sink into Professor Helsing’s warm car. I snap the door shut, Helsing rolls up the window, and the car continues along down the road.
“Why is it I’m always running into you when something’s going wrong?” he snarls at me.
I shrug.
“Are you drunk?” he demands.
“Maaaaybe,” I reply with a giggle. Fuck. Did I just giggle?
“Jesus.” He speeds up.
“Why are you going to the school?” I ask, trying to keep my speech from slurring. I don’t succeed.
He sighs heavily. “Attempted break-in. Possibly attempted theft.”
“In the Menagerie?”
Helsing glances at me suspiciously. “No. Different place. Why?”
“I broke into the Menagerie last night,” I mumble. “You should change the keys more often. Wanted to see Aurora. Tell her what was happening.”
His expression softens. “That your kelpie?”
I nod.
He stares ahead at the winding, snowy road for a long minute before he answers my earlier question. “No, not the Menagerie.”
“Where?”
“None of your goddamn business.”
I don’t press him further. I stare out the window at the darkness.
“Professor,” I say softly, after a moment’s silence. “I found something over Christmas break. Something in my parents’ cabin.”
He stiffens.
“Found my mom’s journals,” I continue. I don’t know why I’m telling him this. I guess alcohol is as good a truth serum as devil’s breath. “She said she felt like they were being followed on their last hunt.”
I hear him sigh again. “Yeah,” he replies heavily. “Yeah … they told me about that.”
I look at him in astonishment. “Wait … they told you about the hunt? I thought you said—”
“Forget what I said,” he snaps, his eyes still glued to the road. “They didn’t give me details. Hell, Riley wouldn’t even tell me what it was they were hunting. Said it was too dangerous, said if it fell into the wrong hunter’s hands … it could be deadly.”
“But they didn’t give any indication who it was they thought was following them?”
Helsing glances at me, and he looks a little guilty. “All I know is when Mason Dagher found them … it wasn’t a pretty sight.”
I feel my pulse quicken. “So Mason Dagher is the one who found them.” It sounds more than a little suspicious. Their rival hunter just happened to find their bodies after the monster killed them?
“You didn’t ask him about it?” I ask, carefully.
“Cagey fucker,” Helsing mutters. “Never been able to get him alone after that.” He drives up to the gates of the school. They open and he pulls into the courtyard, parking outside the entrance. He shuts the car off. “Come on.”
I haven’t regained full control of my limbs so I stumble out of the car. I yawn widely. All I want to do is crawl into my bed and sleep. Helsing grabs me by the elbow and tugs me along.
The entrance hall is bright and full of people; a few professors, the headmaster, and Mason Dagher, much to my surprise. He’s standing with a crowd of men and women in suits, who I take to be the board of trustees. He locks eyes with me immediately.
“The hell is she doing here?” he demands of Helsing, pointing at me.
“Keep your shirt on,” Professor Helsing retorts. “You go on up to bed, Black. Now. And I’ll deduct points from your score if you so much as put your face to the window to look outside,” he adds in a growl as I turn to head to the residence wing.
I keep my head down and shove my hands into my hoodie pockets. I don’t want to stick around, anyway. Maybe if I was sober, the idea of another illicit hunt would be appealing. Right now, however, my head isn’t the only thing that’s reeling.
Erin sits bolt upright as I enter the dorm. “Avery!” she gasps. “I was so worried!”
“I left you a note,” I mumble, kicking off my shoes.
“I know, but still,” she says, pushing back her blankets.
“Don’t get up,” I groan, letting my clothes fall on the floor around me. I have to stop for a second as a shooting pain settles in my gut, and a wave of nausea washes over me. It is not going to be an easy night. “I’m going to bed. I’m fine,” I manage to say.
“But—”
“I’m fine.” I slump into my bed with a sigh. “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, okay?”
I fall asleep about as soon as my head hits the pillow.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As far as I know, no one is caught the night of the break-in.
I’m so bleary the next morning, the news comes as a surprise until I remember I was there, with Helsing, when it happened. Security, patrols, guards—it all amps up right away. No one’s allowed to enter or leave school grounds. We’re escorted to PW by a guard every morning. There was a monster-hunting field trip planned for spring break, but it’s cancelled now.
Until the culprit is apprehended, we’re stuck here.
And we’ve still got a little over two months before final exams.
True to Piers’ word, our little tryst down by the tavern changes nothing. They go back to bullying me with the same—if not more—gusto. Thanks to their last little stunt, I’ve fallen in the rankings again and just can’t seem to catch up.
To make matters worse, I haven’t spoken to Sawyer since that night either. Things were so close to returning to normal, and then he had to go and pull that stunt. I still haven’t gotten the chance to confront him about it.
I want to know what possessed him to do it.
Was it jealousy, or something more complicated than that?
I’m drowning in homework. Erin is always either studying with me or training with Luiza de la Cruz to try to improve her PW score. This morning, it’s studying with me in the dorm room.
Cleaver is still asleep in my lap. I stroke him gently as I do my homework.
“Hey, Erin?”
“Do you know the answer for number twelve? I’m having trouble deciding between—”
And then everything goes dark.
Erin lets out a shriek, waking Cleaver, who jumps off my lap and starts barking. I scoop him up to keep him quiet and blunder around the dark room, banging my shin on my bedframe.
“What the fuck is happening?” I shout into the darkness.
“Avery?” Erin squeaks from somewhere. A flashlight clicks on and illuminates her terrified face.
“Must be a power outage,” I grumble. “Shine that over on my dresser, will you?”
She obliges. I set Cleaver down gently and grab my flashlight off my own dresser. Unbothered, Cleaver jumps up onto my bed and curls into a ball to sleep. He’s gotten bigger, I realize. He must have only been a puppy when I found him, because he’s almost up to my knee now when before, he was barely halfway up my now-bruised shin.
“Stay here,” I tell Erin. “I’m going to find out what’s going on.”
She nods gratefully as I slip out of the dorm. In the hallway, other students with flashlights are walking around, all confused. I glimpse Sawyer and Bennett standing side-by-side outside their room.
“STUDENTS!” yells a booming voice and a powerful light shines down the hallway. We all turn to see the source of the announcement. Headmaster Novac, accompanied by a flock of professors holding their own high-powered flashlights, stands at the end of the hall. “Everyone come to the dining hall!”
I poke my head in to get Erin, and we join the rest of the students on the trek to the dining hall together.
Battery-powered lights have been set up downstairs, so we all turn off our flashlights as we sit. The headmaster and professors have commandeered a long table to set up at the front of the hall near the kitchens. It’s lined with flickering candles and more lamps. Headmaster Novac spryly climbs onto the table and stands there, waiting for everyone to file in and get settled.
“Everyone here?” he asks in a carrying voice, his eyes scanning the crowd. “Good. As you’ve all observed, we’ve suffered a power outage due to the heavy snowfall.”
