Threat (Academy of Unpredictable Magic Book 4)

by Sadie Moss

  “I know you’re all worried,” Roman interjects, “but this is something the dean and the staff will take care of. This is our job, to take care of you and protect you. We always knew there was a possibility that public opinion would turn against us again. The founders of Griffin Academy had to fight hard to get this school open, and we’ll fight hard to keep it open.”

  “We have to.” My voice is hard, my vocal cords strained with tension. “There’s nowhere else for people to go.”

  “I know, Reckless.” Roman’s jaw clenches, but his hypnotic cobalt eyes soften as he meets my gaze. “But we’re prepared for things like this. We’ve always been aware of the possibility that Unpredictables could be targeted. It’s why we train students for combat—so that you can defend yourselves, so you won’t be helpless. And everyone at this school is still protected under magical law, for now at least. If anyone did try to harm you, the Circuit’s job is to protect you.”

  At the words “harm you”, Asher’s hand in my hair jerks, and Cam’s arms tighten around me. Dmitri sits up on the bed, his dark eyes flashing as his teeth clench. I think Roman was referring to all of us, to the school in general, but they all seem to have interpreted his words as meaning danger to me specifically, and they all look ready to march out and take on the world if need be to protect me.

  I’m not gonna lie, it makes my heart swell in my chest. I don’t want anyone to fight my battles for me, and I don’t necessarily need protecting—but if it comes down to it, I’ll feel a whole hell of a lot safer fighting with these men at my side.

  Roman’s eyes flash with the intense protectiveness I’ve seen in him before as his gaze locks on me. “We have to be prepared, and trust me, the staff here are very prepared. We’re going to take care of this. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

  The others murmur their agreement, and I burrow closer to Cam.

  When Roman says things like that, I actually believe him. If Hardwick or another teacher or even Tamlin had been the one to say it, I’m not sure I would have. I’m just not used to trusting anyone else with things, especially not something as big and important as my life.

  But Roman is the most capable person I know. He’s never not in control, and he’s smart and damn powerful. Possibly the most powerful magic user I know. And I know that he wants more than anything to keep us safe.

  If I can believe anyone when they say it’s going to be all right, I can believe Roman.

  Dmitri doesn’t look completely convinced, but he stops arguing about it. He and Roman are very similar, and I think Dmitri sees a lot of himself in our dark, serious professor. Now that I know what Dmitri’s parents are like, I’m even more grateful for that. He needs good men in his life to make up for his asshole of a father.

  The conversation dies out a bit after that, and we just all sit together in the warmth of Roman’s apartment, soaking up each other’s strength and holding onto one another.

  Wondering what comes next.

  Chapter 12

  I almost wish the next big thing to happen at school was something spectacular and magical, but nope.

  It’s just midterms.

  Yippee.

  To be fair, the professors don’t really have their hearts in it this time around. They’re kind of half-assing things and giving us passing marks on things that they’d usually grade a lot more harshly. And the students are all half-assing it in return. I can barely focus, and I know I’m not the only one.

  Alyssa hasn’t even had any new barbs or quips to fling at me. I figured since I’m one of the people in the video that’s been circulating around online news sites, she’d jump on the chance to come after me and accuse me of sabotaging the school—never mind that her friends Cristina and Megan are in it as well.

  But while last semester she was eager and chomping at the bit to get me in trouble for stealing people’s magic, this time she’s as exhausted and subdued as the rest of us. We’re all slumped in our seats during class and barely any more alert during exams. I see a lot of people with dark circles under their eyes, and even without asking, I know it’s not because they were up late studying.

  Every time someone’s phone goes off, we all jump. People are checking the news feverishly. Even professors.

  At least we’re all trying, even if we can’t really put one hundred percent of hearts and minds into it. I do my best on my tests and resist the urge to check my phone nonstop. I study and take notes, and I don’t complain that the professors are distracted and seem prone to staring into space. Professor Binns almost starts crying at the end of one of our classes, and I bring her an apple the next day—I know it’s cliché, but it makes her smile and that helps, right?

  Given the way everyone’s behaving, especially the staff, I can’t help but wonder if Hardwick’s been fielding demands to close down the school. I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. Griffin Academy originally housed a lot of priceless and dangerous magical artifacts underground, hidden away beneath the main building—both because it was practical and because it was a good bargaining chip to keep the school open.

  But now, thanks to Raul’s attempt to steal one of the most dangerous artifacts down there, a Brimstone Orb, all the objects were moved to a new location. Which is great, except that it took away our bargaining chip. It’s one less reason for the High Circuit to want to keep Griffin Academy open.

  I can’t help but feel as I finish up my insanely easy History of Magic exam that this is a bit of a farce. That we’re all just trying to pretend everything is normal, that things are okay, while we cling to a sinking ship. It’s like making out with a cardboard cutout of your favorite movie star and pretending it’s real.

  …not that I’ve ever done that.

  Anyway, it makes me wonder if Griffin would’ve already been shut down if we all had somewhere else to go.

  I mention my theory to Asher when we meet up after our last finals. I don’t want to talk to Dmitri because he’s already so pissed and upset about all of this, and Cam would try to cheer me up, which isn’t necessarily what I want at the moment. I just want to be heard, and Asher’s good for that.

  He runs a hand over his defined jaw, glancing at me as we walk down the corridor. “I’m not sure about that, Elle. Right now, they have us where they want us. All in one spot where they can easily come and inspect us or round us up.”

  Yikes. My stomach twists.

  “Do you think they would do that?”

  “No. But you have to admit it’s easier to keep all the potentially dangerous people in one isolated place, whether it’s because they distrust us or for our own protection. Whether they hate us or are on our side, keeping us here is easier for everyone.”

  Huh. That does make sense to me. A horrible kind of sense.

  Shaking my head to clear it of all this junk, I catch his moss-green gaze. “How’d your midterms go?”

  He chuckles dryly. “Oh, did we have midterms? I’m not sure anybody noticed.” Then he nods his head toward the end of the hall. “Dmitri and Cam should be coming out of theirs in a second.”

  We’re hoping to get some lunch and eat it in our dorm room, put a good movie on that we’ve seen a million times before, and just relax. Some quiet time together would do us all good, I think.

  As we approach, Cam and Dmitri come out of their Theory of Magic classroom, both looking a bit haggard.

  “How’d it go?” I ask, kissing my blond boyfriend hello.

  “It went—” Cam starts, but his words are interrupted by the sound of a loud commotion outside.

  “What the hell?” Dmitri says, turning to follow the sound.

  We emerge from the main building, heading toward the quad to find a huge group of adults standing on the lawn arguing with the Griffin admins and staff. Most of the newcomers look middle-aged, and all of them look extremely pissed off.

  I vaguely recognize some people from when the families of the seniors visited last semester, and I think that most of these people are pare
nts of Griffin students. Not all of them though. Some look too young to be the parents of people in their early twenties. What the hell are they all doing here anyway? What do they want?

  The staff, including Hardwick, are doing what they can to try and calm the situation. Personally, I think this is a real asshole move. These fuckers couldn’t air their grievances in an orderly fashion? Send a fucking email or make a phone call? Instead, they have to have this confrontation on the lawn? What is this, kindergarten? Where we all just throw tantrums wherever we feel like it?

  And then I hear a voice and catch sight of a face that’s horribly familiar.

  “You really claim to reform these children—”

  Fuck. It’s Dmitri’s father.

  “They’re not children,” Hardwick interrupts as calmly as he can, “and we’re not ‘reforming’ them because there is no need to reform our students of anything. They are being taught to use and control their power the same as any other magic user.”

  Dmitri’s father looks like he’s seriously considering blasting Hardwick with some magic himself, just to show Hardwick his place. It’s clear that the man thinks he ought to be in charge around here and is used to being the most important person in whatever room he walks into.

  It’s also pretty fucking clear from his language that Dmitri was right. Maybe his family isn’t as outright bigoted as Johnson was, but they still don’t like Unpredictables, not one little bit.

  “These are dangerous people,” Dmitri’s father goes on. “They always have been. And your job is not to coddle them but to discipline them so that they learn to be better. They shouldn’t be allowed to think they can just do whatever they want. You are letting them be reckless—”

  Dmitri’s body jerks beside mine. Before I can even think about what he might be doing or grab him and stop him, he storms up to his father, coming to stand beside Hardwick. Just to his father’s left, I can see Dmitri’s mother. She looks like she stepped off a runway and is being asked to tramp through a muddy field.

  “Father.”

  “Dmitri.” The older man looks imperiously down his nose at his son. “Come with us at once. This place is clearly unfit for your attendance. We should’ve gone with a private tutor—”

  “What?” Dmitri obviously didn’t expect the conversation to turn this way and is thrown for a moment. “Father, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You will go where I tell you to go.” His dad’s face, so similar to Dmitri’s, twists with anger. “You are my son.”

  “He’s also an adult,” Hardwick says gently.

  The glare Dmitri’s parents shoot at Hardwick is scathing. But the dean stands his ground, continuing to gaze at the two of them politely and firmly.

  Huh. Go Hardwick.

  “If your classmates cannot control themselves then we are removing you from their presence,” Dmitri’s dad grunts. “You’re better than this. You don’t deserve to be dragged down with them.”

  His father reaches for him, but Dmitri jerks away, his jaw clenching. “Are you serious? Did you forget that I’m like them? If you’re going to condemn them, then condemn me too. They’re not doing anything wrong. And I’m not leaving.”

  “Of course you’re leaving.”

  “No, I’m not!” Dmitri snarls. “You don’t get to pretend that just because you’ve made an exception for me, it makes you better than any other nutjob who rages against Unpredictables on his YouTube channel.”

  Honestly, his father looks more upset about being compared to someone who makes YouTube videos than anything else. I have to hide a laugh behind my hand, although it dies out immediately. Nothing about this situation is very funny.

  Mr. Mikhailov draws himself up, his eyes narrowing. “This is precisely my point. If your time at this school has made you to think you have the right to talk to me in such a manner—”

  “I have put up with so much bullshit from you,” Dmitri interrupts with a growl. I feel Asher and Cam tense beside me, ready to move forward and break them up if this gets physical. “And now you think you can just storm in here and boss around an entire fucking school? I’m not leaving when I’m six weeks away from finishing my training, I’m not letting my friends deal with this shit on their own, and I’m not going to turn my back on the place that’s been housing me and educating me for the past three years.”

  “So you’ll turn your back on us instead?” His father has a gleam in his eye that I can only describe as cruel. Jesus fucking Christ. “Your own family?” He scoffs. “After all that we raised you to be. Clearly, if you can turn against us like this and lose your entry into the Trials to a untrained girl in her first year, this academy isn’t doing everything for you that it should. You can test out to finish your degree, and that is my final word on the matter.”

  “Well, it’s not my final word. And it’s my life.”

  “Your life is mine,” his father snarls. “You are my son, you will do as I say.”

  “For goodness’ sake, Dmitri, listen to your father,” his mother says, tilting her head at him like she can’t understand why he’s acting like this. “Sometimes I wonder why you’ve spent your entire life trying to spite us.”

  “I’ve never tried to spite you, Mother,” Dmitri grates out.

  Her unnaturally smooth face takes on an almost sad look, and I realize immediately what this shit is. She and her husband are playing good cop, bad cop with their son. “It’s rather unfair, darling, wouldn’t you say? After we’ve done nothing but try to give you the best?”

  “You and I have different definitions of what’s best,” Dmitri shoots back, but I can see that he’s wavering a little. Not like he’s about to agree to go with his parents, but like he’s about to lose control and is struggling to keep his cool. Dmitri’s all about control. I know he would hate to lose his composure, I mean, really lose it, in front of not just his parents but everyone else.

  “Sometimes I wonder if you even care about your family when you pull stunts like this,” his father snaps.

  That one really hurt Dmitri—I can tell by the way his jaw clenches. I don’t know his full history, but given that he has yet to be public about his relationship with me and fought his feelings every step of the way, I’m pretty damn sure he’s done a lot to try to live up to his parents’ expectations and to be the son they want him to be.

  And have they appreciated it? The sacrifices and struggles he’s endured trying to earn their love? Clearly not.

  God, I hate his fucking family.

  I mean, I already hated them, but this is even worse. When I met them before, they were just snobs. This is outright cruelty, and it’s directed at their own son, of all people. If this is how they treat Dmitri, someone they claim to love, I can’t even imagine how they’d treat a stranger.

  And no matter what they might claim, this sure as fuck isn’t love. It’s possession.

  I want to march over there and give those two a piece of my goddamn mind, and maybe a piece of my actual fist while I’m at it, but I know that won’t solve anything. It’ll only make this all so much worse.

  As if he’s reading my mind, Asher puts his hand on my arm. “Don’t.”

  “I won’t,” I promise, grinding my teeth so hard my jaw aches.

  Even though I really, really want to.

  Dmitri’s hands are clenched into fists. “Sometimes I wonder if you care about me when you act like this,” he shoots back, “or if you just see me as some kind of expensive toy or another business asset. I’m a human being, Father, I’m not one of your stocks or investments that you can just trade and move around however you please.”

  “How dare you—”

  “Everyone, please.” Hardwick forcibly inserts himself between Dmitri and his parents, turning to face the rest of the gathered crowd. “If you all could calmly come into the administrative offices, we can properly address your concerns. Standing out here like a rabble is rather undignified, wouldn’t you say?”

  Shit. Nice one, Hardwick.


  That’s a damn clever way to get a dig in at Dmitri’s parents, and the best way to ensure they’ll actually agree to go inside. They want to look sophisticated and on top of the world at all times, I’m sure, and looking like part of the “rabble” must make their allergies act up.

  “Very well.” Mr. Mikhailov draws himself up stiffly. “But we insist on speaking with you personally, as you are the dean. We didn’t come all the way out to this no man’s land to be pawned off on some mid-level representative.”

  “Of course, of course.”

  Hardwick nods politely as he ushers them away. The man’s got a hell of a lot more patience than I do, that much is obvious.

  Dmitri gives his father’s back a glare that’s close to venomous, then he turns on his heel and storms off.

  Well, this day has gone to shit.

  Chapter 13

  The group of angry parents and concerned citizens follow Hardwick back toward the admin building, leaving the quad empty except for the students who gathered to gawk at the confrontation.

  Cam whistles lightly. “Wow. Okay.”

  Yeah, you can say that again. “Jesus. I thought people that awful only existed in soap operas.”

  “Dmitri’s parents were raised in wealth,” Asher says. “It’s hard to be given everything you want as soon as you want it and still retain your compassion. You lose your ability to empathize with others.” He lets out a soft, sad chuckle. “Sometimes I think the curse that my family has that gives us so many children is a good thing. Kids are expensive as hell. My parents have a ton of money and social connections, but they also had thirteen boys to raise, so they’ve never gotten caught up in their wealth. It’s kept us from getting swelled heads.”