Threat (Academy of Unpredictable Magic Book 4)

by Sadie Moss

  We end up sort of in a pile, all of us facing the screen where the movie’s still playing, but not really watching it.

  “He’s seriously investigating to see if we’re, what, evil?” Cam asks.

  I nod. “I don’t think he likes Unpredictables that much.” My stomach turns over. “The way he said the word—you just get a feel for it, you know?”

  “The world is still trying to find a way to blame us for this,” Dmitri mutters.

  “We don’t even know what ‘this’ is!” Cam points out. “They’re towers. I mean, I don’t doubt there’s more to them than that, but what are people blaming us for? They’re just piles of stones.”

  “They’ll take any excuse,” I say, and I hate that I truly believe that.

  The world is against us, and not even our own campus is safe.

  My dad and his team remain at Griffin Academy for a few days.

  Yippee.

  I don’t know the details—nobody does except maybe Hardwick, and he hasn’t said anything—but they’re doing their own tests and diagnostics on the towers and other parts of campus. I don’t know what they expect to find that nobody else has, but there you have it. I guess they just need to be able to tell the Circuit they checked every nook and cranny.

  And when I say every nook and cranny, boy do I mean it.

  They’re poking around the school grounds, even in buildings you wouldn’t think would have anything to do with this, in our dorm rooms and the sports shed and the astronomy tower. Every time I see him, even from a distance, I want to throw up. Dad’s still acting like everything is fine between us in that jovial “love you honey, but not now, Daddy’s working” kind of way you act with your two-year-old when they want you to take a break and play horsey rides with them.

  I have to tell Maddy about it. Of course I do. I can’t keep something like this secret from her.

  Maddy was six when Dad left, so she barely remembers him—and what she does remember is that he was at work a lot.

  And she’s, well, furious.

  “He what?!” she shrieks into the phone. “Oh, you put him on the line, you hear me, Ellie?! You find him and put him on the line, and I’m gonna tell him exactly the kind of snake oil rat bastard he is, coming in there like that and acting like everything was fine—acting like he had no idea you could be there. Where is he pretending he was all this time, the depths of Siberia?! A remote Alaskan fishing village?! He could’ve looked us up any time and asked how we were doing! I can’t believe you have to deal with that fucking asshole!”

  My sister never talks like this about anyone. Ever. This is how I talk about people. Maddy’s the one with a kind word and an alternate perspective. But not right now. Right now, she is the definition of fuming, and it amuses me like nothing else.

  “Why are you laughing?” she demands. “This isn’t funny, Ellie! I’m gonna rip him to shreds!”

  “It’s nothing,” I assure her. “I’m just—I’m proud of you, Mads. I just want you to know that.”

  “What, for being a decent person and recognizing that our dad is shit?” she replies, fire still sparking in her voice.

  It strikes me as funny that Maddy’s acting how I would normally act, how I thought I would act when it comes to my dad. I’m acting how I’d always thought she would—hoping against hope that my dad would be better than he’s actually shown himself capable of being.

  But then, even if I’ve disappointed myself a little… I’m glad that this is Maddy’s response. I’m truly proud of her, and if nothing else, I think I did an okay job of raising her.

  Out of all my mistakes and fumbling, I got one thing right. The most important thing.

  Chapter 20

  Finally, fucking finally, my dad and his team wrap up. It’s been a damn week, how long does it take a team to research and find that we’re innocent and have no goddamn clue what’s going on?

  I kind of wish I could strangle him, honestly. Ugh.

  Dad wants to wish me farewell as he’s leaving. As if he’ll actually stay in touch this time or something. Ha. I want to tell him “don’t let it be another ten years before we speak again”, but I’m not sure I have the courage to start an argument right as he’s leaving.

  But as it turns out, I don’t have to.

  I walk up to the quad to say goodbye, wondering what to say, how to really stick it to him, if I’m even capable of that—and then up walk my guys. All four of them.

  Huh.

  “Mr. Sinclair.” Roman’s the first one up, because of course he is. He’s the oldest of us and a professor here, which gives him a little bit of an edge authority-wise. “It’s a pleasure to meet the father of my prize student.”

  His… what?

  The bastard gave me a B last semester!

  Dad shakes Roman’s hand, smiling warmly at him as he cranks out his usual charm. “Always good to meet the people who’ve been looking after my girl.”

  “Oh, Elliot doesn’t need looking after.” Roman’s smile is sharp as a knife. “She learned from an early age how to handle herself on her own just fine.”

  Oh. My. God.

  “She’s remarkably resilient,” Roman goes on. “A hard worker, and much more talented than she likes to let on.”

  “I’m… so glad to hear it,” Dad says, but I know he can tell what Roman’s really saying.

  “You know, we had her and Maddy spend the break with us,” Cam adds. “Bright young thing, Maddy. Great girl. I bet she was adorable as a kid. Just the sort of person you’re lucky to have in your life, pure sunshine, know what I mean?”

  Of course, Dad doesn’t know what Cam means; he hasn’t seen Maddy since she was still playing with stuffed animals.

  “It’s a real pity,” Asher says. “The idea that people have missed out on getting to know them. People here are finally starting to see how amazing Elliot is and she’s getting her due. I can’t imagine what it would be like to not know her. What a loss that would be. She’s kind of the best part of this campus.”

  Holy shit. Asher—peaceful, mediating, patient Asher—looks like he wants to take a swing at my dad.

  So does Dmitri, actually, but that’s… less surprising.

  Instead of lashing out with a fist though, he just raises an eyebrow at my dad. “Pleasure to meet you,” he says, and suddenly his voice doesn’t sound like its usual grumpy growl. It sounds polished, sharp, aristocratic—like his father’s. “I’m Dmitri Mikhailov. I’ve heard a lot about you from my father.”

  My jaw nearly drops open. Dmitri hates his father, and here he is playing the snob card?! Using his family name to intimidate my dad?

  Dad recognizes the name. I can see it on his face. He must know who Dmitri is, who his father is, because his smile falters just a bit. “Ah, of course. I’ve met him. Fascinating man.”

  “A man with a lot of friends,” Dmitri replies.

  Okay, wow, um, holy shit? The four of them are rubbing my dad’s face in the mud, and I’m kind of living for it.

  But I can’t just stand back here like a damsel in distress while the guys fight my battles for me. I’m the one who needs to tell my dad to shove it.

  Except—do I?

  Why would I bother letting him see that he upset me? He obviously hasn’t cared about Maddy and me all this time. Why should I give him the satisfaction of knowing he stirred me to anger?

  I walk up to him, standing up straight and tall, my chin set.

  “It was nice to see you,” I tell him, because in a way it’s true. Seeing him clarified some things for me. “It was good to get confirmation that I don’t need you.”

  Dad’s eyes go wide, and some color appears on his face, like he’s fighting not to show his anger and embarrassment. “Excuse me?”

  “I have really good people in my life. I’m glad you were able to meet them so you can see how well I’m being supported. They care about me and push me to be better, and they celebrate who I am. I’ve built a good life for myself, and for Maddy, and I�
�m glad you got to see that so you really believe me when I tell you I don’t need you in my life, and that you can stay out of it. Just like you have for the past thirteen years.”

  Dad looks scandalized; his gaze darts around, like he’s making sure nobody can overhear this and gossip about him. Yeah, must really sting, knowing people could start saying shit about you. Now he knows how Mom felt after he left her.

  It’s also pretty pathetic, when you think about it. His daughter is telling him to stay out of her life, and all he seems to be worried about is his reputation.

  “I…” Dad does look a little ashamed, his gaze settling back down on me. “Yes. Well. If that’s how you really feel.” For once, he doesn’t sound confident and smooth, he sounds stiff and a little put out.

  It feels damn good to see that smooth facade finally crack a little.

  “It is,” I confirm. “Have a safe drive. Goodbye.”

  Last time, when he left—I didn’t get to say that. One day he was there, then I went to school and came home, and he was gone. Never came back.

  I underestimated how good it would feel to say that one little word.

  Dad’s colleagues are waiting for him a short distance away, looking curious as to what he’s talking with me about. He turns and walks back over to them, and they all get into their cars and head out—and I feel a weight lifting off my chest that I’d forgotten was there.

  For so long, I’ve carried what my father did. I did my best not to let it define me, but it was there around my shoulders, weighing me down. And now—now at last, it’s over.

  I got to say what I wanted to say, I got to have some closure. I got to have the last word. And he didn’t have to see me cry or rage, I didn’t have to give him any power. I can finally let go of the part of me I didn’t know was there, buried under the anger—the part that still, like Maddy always did, hoped he’d do better. Without even knowing it, I’d hoped that he would realize what a mistake he’d made and come crawling back, wanting to fix things, ready to do better.

  That he’d want to redeem himself.

  Instead, he just thought he could rely on his charm to dazzle me while he was here and put on a good show of being a parent for a week before he swept back out of my life again.

  Well, you know what? That’s okay. My dad hasn’t redeemed himself, and he probably never will. But who needs him?

  I grew up all on my own, and I don’t think I turned into all that bad of a person while I was at it. I raised Maddy, and I know she’s a damn good person. I have friends, I have four men who care about me—and give me some insanely good orgasms while they’re at it. Hell, I even have some pretty powerful magic to boot. I won the fucking Trials, for crying out loud.

  I’m doing more than okay without him.

  In fact, I’m doing great.

  I turn and grin at the guys—my guys, who just went out of their way to stick up for me. “You all really didn’t have to do that, you know.”

  “Sure we did,” Cam replies with a grin right back at me and a shrug. “What kind of boyfriends would we be if we didn’t?”

  Roman stares after the spot where my dad walked away. “He needs to know that even if he doesn’t appreciate you, there are other people who do, and we’re not going to let you be treated like that.”

  I kiss each one of them on the cheek.

  “Thank you,” I whisper to Dmitri. I know that was a risk for him. His parents could find out about this, and you can bet his dad won’t be happy to hear that Dmitri was using his name to stir up trouble with another powerful magic user to protect an Unpredictable, of all people.

  “You looked ready to throw down,” Cam teases Asher, who blushes.

  “It was nothing,” he mumbles.

  I think Roman and Dmitri would pass out if I suggested a group hug, but I do take my turns with each of them, hugging them tightly. They’re all gathered around me, relaxed, and for a moment nothing else—not the towers or my father or even exams—exists.

  It’s just the five of us. Together.

  Chapter 21

  My dad might be an idiot, but at least he’s not as bad of an idiot as I’d feared.

  The oversight committee has decided that the towers weren’t built by the school or by any Unpredictables within the school, citing not only evidence but also simple logic—none of us at Griffin Academy have the knowledge to erect these towers and make them indestructible.

  However, like I said, he’s still an idiot, so the report also determines that the towers aren’t dangerous. The oversight committee has apparently decided—given how convenient it was that there were cameras ready to take footage of Unpredictables trying to destroy the towers, which was then spun into proof of us creating them—that someone outside of Griffin set up the towers as a paper tiger to give anti-Unpredictable groups a stronger platform.

  I will give them credit, it’s a logical conclusion, but the idea that the towers aren’t a threat is ludicrous. Just because the structures aren’t doing anything at the moment doesn’t mean they won’t later. They’re still growing, still developing—surely that’s cause for concern, right? If it was just some dickhead who wanted to make us look bad, that goal has been achieved, which means the towers should’ve stopped growing. But they haven’t.

  There’s another scheme at work here, one we can’t figure out. And all my instincts scream at me that whatever it is, it’s sinister, and it isn’t over yet.

  A week later, I’m vindicated in the worst way.

  The towers are finally complete, standing taller than the tallest buildings on campus. And the moment the final stones appear in the merlons at the very tops of the towers, all three buildings begin to glow. It’s a strange blue color, as if I can actually see electricity instead of just feel it, like this is what fills the air before lightning strikes.

  An odd buzzing, humming kind of noise comes off of them too. It starts out barely audible, but then it grows and grows, and the blue light gets stronger—it’s almost like watching a battery charge up.

  The administrators and professors immediately go over to see if they can figure out what the towers are doing, but nobody can figure it out.

  “It’s like they’re powering up for something,” Roman tells me that evening, “but we can’t figure out what it is.”

  Yeah, that’s not terrifying at all.

  In light of this, and since we couldn’t stop the towers from forming or break them down through any combination of magic, Hardwick calls an assembly.

  For once, he’s blunt and to the point.

  “My dear students.” He looks more tired than I’ve ever seen him. “After much deliberation, it has been decided that we should evacuate the school.”

  This draws a murmur from the crowd. I can’t tell if it’s positive or negative.

  “While we want to do everything that we can to keep Griffin Academy open and to prevent it from being shut down, your safety comes first, and I cannot in good conscience allow students to stay. Previously, we waited until it was too late to send students away or try to protect them, and I refuse to let that happen this time. And so it is with a heavy heart that I must ask all of you to pack up your essentials.”

  He straightens his shoulders, keeping his voice measured and even as he speaks.

  “Classes are being put on hold. Staff are being asked to please draft up exams that can be done remotely, either through group videos or online or by some other method. We understand that the seniors have worked hard all semester, and we don’t want to jeopardize anyone’s chances at graduating. Do not pack all of your things—simply pack what you will really need, although we recommend that include your schoolbooks. When the term has officially ended, we can pack your things up for you or possibly look into re-opening the campus so that you can come back yourselves.”

  Shit. My heart is rapidly sinking into my stomach, and I swear I can feel the acid eating away at it. This is already sounding like a permanent closure.

  “Our goal is to
handle the evacuation in a timely and orderly fashion, as quickly as possible. I know it’s easy to panic and to get caught up in the mania, but right now the best thing that you can do for yourself and for everyone around you is to be calm. We evacuate tomorrow, and you will need to be signed out by an administrator so we know that you left and weren’t accidentally stuck here.” He gives us a wan smile. “On your marks, get set, go.”

  He’s clearly being sarcastic and trying to make a joke, but some people do dart out of their seats like their pants are on fire.

  I go right up to Hardwick as the auditorium begins to clear out. “Are we just leaving the school unprotected?”

  Hardwick eyes the three guys trailing behind me like shadows and sighs. “Some administration and staff members will be staying behind to do what they can to protect the school. But you must understand, Miss Sinclair, it will be difficult for us to protect ourselves when we don’t know exactly what we’re up against.”

  “And so, what, we’re just going to board buses, c’est la vie?”

  “To keep you all safe, yes. Unpredictables can’t be stopped. They can’t silence us completely and they can never truly stamp us out. We will live on. The school might not, but the school is just brick and mortar. We can find another place, another way, to train Unpredictables.”

  I disagree. Not about the whole finding other ways thing, but about this school being just brick and mortar. This is home for so many people. It’s become home for me. I don’t want to lose that, and I’m not going to run away from the problem.

  How could I live with myself if I stood by while my school fell?

  I leave Hardwick and immediately start looking through the crowd for Kendal.

  “I’m staying,” I tell the guys, shooting them a look as they surround me like always. “I won’t ask you to stay with me. I know it’s reckless and probably stupid, and I don’t want to force you guys into danger. But please don’t try to talk me out of it. I’m staying here, and I’m fighting.”

  The three men glance at each other. “Roman’s gonna have a fit,” Cam says with a grin. “Yeah, I’m staying.”