by W. J. May
“He lives for it,” Aria said automatically. Then she remembered his look of genuine surprise, and a pang of guilt burned in her stomach. “That being said...I usually deserve it.”
“For what?” Alexander asked with a crooked smile. “For speaking your mind?”
She hesitated a moment, caught off guard, then spoke with sudden conviction. “I shouldn’t have done what I did today. I lost my temper, broke the rules, and I’m sure I’m going to be punished. That isn’t his fault—it’s mine.”
There was an edge to every word, but Alexander didn’t seem threatened. He seemed engaged.
“That’s funny...” He leaned even closer, flashing an almost predatory smile. “You don’t strike me as the type of girl who minds breaking a rule or two.”
An instinctual chill ran down her back, but she flashed an angelic smile. “That’s because we just met.”
His eyes twinkled at the memory. “We certainly did.”
Fortunately, at that moment the bell rang.
Unfortunately, in the same moment, her Uncle Luke swept through the doors.
Oh crap...
She forgot about the new students entirely, sinking in her chair as he quickly scanned the cafeteria, then started heading her way. Of all her aunts and uncles, Luke was the most easy-going. He was sensible and didn’t lose his temper often.
But when he did, it was a sight to behold.
Jason paled, and scooped his bag off the table.
“Can’t fix that. Good look, Wardell. You’re going to need it.”
He was gone a second later. Lily had already hightailed it to the doors. Only Benji stayed behind, lingering in a show of solidarity, but he grew more nervous the closer his father got.
“Show no fear,” he advised under his breath, scooping up his own bag a second later. “We’ll be back for your remains in the morning.”
“Ben—”
She started to grab for him, but he was already gone—shooting his father an innocent smile before skittering around him and speed-walking to the door. The girls followed soon after, leaving only Aria and the trio of shifters at the table.
“What’s going on?” Alexander asked curiously. Sitting with his back to the door, he was oblivious to what had them so spooked. “Did somebody—”
“Alex?”
He froze in his chair, white as a sheet.
Luke was standing behind him. His bright eyes had been fixed mercilessly on Aria, until he got close enough to see who her tablemates were. The second he did he stopped in his tracks, looking just as surprised as the boy was himself.
Alexander sat there for another second, before glancing around with a casual smile.
“Hey, Mr. Fodder.”
His sister had turned a delicate shade of green, while Eric—the surly enforcer—was glancing at the exits like he’d like nothing better than to bolt from the room.
Aria watched them all curiously, taking notes in her mind.
“Why are you...” Luke shifted uncomfortably, searching for that pleasant tone that usually came so easily. “How are you liking your first day?”
Alexander made a covert signal with his fingers, and the next second all three of them were standing, looping their bags stiffly over their arms.
“It’s been eventful,” he answered politely, finding it difficult to meet the man’s eyes. “We’d better get to class. Don’t want to be late.”
Luke stared at him, then nodded slowly. “No waves, right?”
Alexander’s face tightened, but he forced an even smile. “No waves.”
They were gone a second later, moving with such speed it made Aria wonder as to their tatùs. It would be strange for both a brother and sister to get one, but stranger things had happened.
Then she realized she had far bigger problems.
“You attacked a teacher?”
She knew better than to sugarcoat it, she knew better than to lie. Even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t have pulled it off. The second she heard his voice, so full of quiet disappointment, it tore right at the center of her. She bowed her head, wishing that fire had finished her off.
“Come with me.”
They walked out of the cafeteria without another word. His hand on her shoulder, her feet trudging along the floor. It wasn’t until the door shut behind them and they were halfway across the lawn that she realized she’d once again forgotten her phone.
LIKE THE REST OF THE teachers, Luke had an office on campus. It was nothing ostentatious, even though Tristan had offered him the moon to convince him to sign on, just a little room tucked away in the North Tower with a window that looked out over the pond.
Growing up, she had been in that office many times. She and Benji had played with blocks together on the floor. But it felt much different to be sitting in the chair across from his.
Especially after what she’d done.
“Explain this to me,” he said softly, folding his hands on the desk. “Make it make sense, Aria. Because when I’m sitting in the faculty room, and someone comes in and says that my niece has frozen her history teacher...I’m at a loss for words.”
Considering how high and mighty she’d felt in the moment, Aria was feeling about two feet tall. A little toddler all over again, swinging her feet in the chair.
“Lily had her orientation today,” she answered quietly. “She asked me to come along—”
“She had it today?” he interrupted with concern. “You should have called me. I would have come down to the infirmary.”
Aria shook her head dismissively. “She knew you were giving an exam. She didn’t want to interrupt.”
If only the story could have ended there.
“Anyway, it went just like you’d expect. Retinal scanning, fingerprinting, cotton swabs shoved in her mouth. And all the while I’m thinking—why is she doing this? We’re not even allowed to train, what is she getting in return? Then Hidgens called her a fine specimen...”
She trailed off, bowing her head.
“Dorf kept talking about all this social cohesion. Like the supernatural community is one big family and we all have an important part to play...but we don’t.”
Her eyes lifted, staring straight at her uncle.
“We’re not allowed to train. They’re not accepting recruits. And even if they were, we all know that you guys would never let us join. We’re just...wasting time here.”
She let out a sigh, slumping back in her chair.
“We might as well be going to a common world school.”
The room fell into silence as uncle and niece leaned back in their chairs. A clock ticked quietly on the wall behind them. For some reason, a faint smell of cinnamon drifted in on the breeze.
Luke had listened patiently to everything she had to say. That was his way. But although the story was finished, she’d left out one or two details.
“So that’s when you started yelling in class and froze him with Angel’s power.”
He didn’t ask it as a question. The story had already been recounted to him by about nine different people—all eagerly delivering their own take.
She sighed quietly, bowing her head in shame. “...I didn’t mean to.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that,” he said sharply. “You don’t freeze people by accident.”
“I know that, I just meant...it happened before I could stop myself. I wasn’t planning on it or anything.” She shot him a bracing look. “I would never do that on purpose.”
He gave her a long look, but didn’t say a word. Finally, when she was on the verge of hyperventilating, he inclined his head. “I believe you.”
Her heart rate slowly returned to normal as the room sharpened back into view. As he sat there thinking, she let her eyes drift to the calendar behind him on the wall. July the second was outlined in a big star. That was the day he’d beaten her father in a fight. Every year, he went out drinking with Gabriel and Julian to celebrate. Devon was left to sulk at home.
“Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t gotten a tatù.”
Her eyebrows shot up as she turned back to him in surprise. “What do you mean?”
He stared thoughtfully at the desk, flipping a pencil in his hand distractedly. “Would you have still gone to Guilder, carved out a niche for yourself? Found a way that you could contribute, a way to safeguard all these things we’re trying to protect?”
She stared at him in confusion, then answered without thinking. “What’s the point of going to Guilder if you don’t have any ink?”
The instant she spoke, she regretted it. Luke didn’t have any ink. He hadn’t even known that he carried the recessive gene, until it showed up in Benji. The man was just your average citizen, except that he’d trained himself to be something more. Cultivated those extraordinary gifts that helped him become one of the legendary heroes the supernatural world worshipped today.
His eyebrows rose slowly, but he didn’t look upset. On the contrary, he looked almost appraising. Like he was trying to figure out if she had what it took.
“You think I shouldn’t have gone to work for the Abbey?” he asked softly. “You think the world would have been a better place, a safer place, if I’d stayed away?”
“No, of course not,” she said quickly. “Uncle Luke, I didn’t mean to—”
“Aria, the Privy Council and the Xavier Knights are about more than who has ink and who doesn’t. Or who is an agent, and who hasn’t yet gotten to train. They’re about unity. They’re about diversity. They’re about every member setting aside personal ambition and doing their part.”
She’d heard the mantra many times before, but for some reason it sounded different coming from Luke’s mouth. Maybe because she could tell he meant it. Maybe because he was walking proof.
Her feet scuffed at the floorboards as she glanced up nervously to meet his eyes.
“Benji says there’s usually a lesson at the end of these things...”
He face warmed with a smile, but only for a moment.
“We do work together. And your time is coming. But your training doesn’t start the day you walk into the Oratory, Arie. It begins now. At home, in the classroom, in all those little moments that challenge you to ignore those rash impulses and do what’s right instead.”
He gave her a hard look, holding her silently accountable.
“Do you think you passed that test today? Would you invite yourself to train?”
The answer caught in her throat and she shook her head miserably.
“It’s an adult job, for people who make adult decisions.” His voice was gentle, yet firm. “Not people who throw tantrums in class.”
A bell rang in the distance, and his eyes shot to the clock.
“Da—rn it,” he started to curse, and quickly corrected himself—all under his breath. “I’m going to be late to my own class.”
She stood up quickly, feeling thoroughly subdued yet somehow uplifted at the same time. “Adult job, adult decisions, huh?”
He flashed a sarcastic smile. “I’m going to say it’s a little early for you to be making jokes about all this. Try again in a few years.”
She chuckled under her breath. “Noted.”
Together, they walked to the door.
Halfway there, she gave him a one-armed hug. He ruffled her hair.
“Oh, Uncle Luke?” she asked suddenly, before they parted ways. “Who are those three shifters at lunch? How did you know them?”
For the first time since leaving the cafeteria, Luke looked like he was standing on uneven ground. He opened his mouth to answer, then ended up shaking his head instead.
“Don’t worry about them, and don’t get too close,” he couldn’t help but add. “Just keep your head in your studies and try to stay out of trouble for more than a few hours at a time.”
...not likely.
“You just made some sarcastic joke in your head, didn’t you?”
She flushed and paled at the same time. “...no.”
He rolled his eyes with a grin. “Get out of here—you’re going to be late for detention.”
“Detention.” She glanced back at the office in surprise. “I thought that was it.”
“That?” He laughed softly, fastening the clasp on his bag. “I’m afraid we’ve selected hard labor for you, my dear. You’re heading off to the library.”
More boxes. More books.
Great.
Chapter 13
In hindsight, there were worse places to spend detention than the library. At least the place had central heating and ceiling fans. At one point, she and Benji had been forced to clean the school pond using nothing but sponges and a net. It was a hundred degrees. They ended up swimming instead.
...which landed us in yet another detention.
Aria sighed as she pushed open the creaky doors. Maybe Luke was right when he advised her to start small, to stay out of trouble for more than a few hours at a time. At this rate, the only people who had a bigger disciplinary record at Guilder were her parents themselves.
One could argue I’m keeping the family tradition alive.
“Hello?”
She stopped in the center of the room, between the shelves and the tables, and glanced from wall to wall. The place appeared to be deserted.
Maybe they didn’t let him know I was coming.
“Mr. Locke?”
There was a crash from somewhere on the second floor, followed by a muffled profanity. In a blur of speed Aria ghosted up the stairs, only to see him battling against a capsized shelf.
“...need some help?”
He jumped a mile, but somehow managed to keep his grip. Glancing over his shoulder to see her standing in the frame of the door.
“Oh, Aria. Uh...yes.” He panted slightly, buckling under the weight of the shelf. “A little help would be appreciated, thank you.”
With a small smile she walked forward, switching out of her usual fox tatù into one she rarely used, one that was pure strength. Without so much as batting an eye she pushed the weighty shelf upright, swiveling it a round a moment until it was standing straight.
“There—does that look right?”
Dorian snapped out of his trance, flashing her a grateful smile.
“Yes, that’s perfect. Thank you.” With a callused hand, he pushed a lock of messy hair away from his eyes. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
Nope, they didn’t tell him.
Aria flushed, fidgeting nervously with the strap on her bag. “I’m here for detention.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Detention? For what?”
More flushing. More fidgeting. “I kind of...froze Mr. Dorf in the middle of history class.”
He blinked at her for a moment then dug his hands into his pockets, chuckling under his breath. “That’s right—I heard about that. They sent you here to reform?”
“Afraid so.”
He chuckled again, glancing over the rows of shelves.
“I’m not surprised.” He paused a moment, as if deciding what task he should assign, before lifting his shoulder in a shrug and continuing with what he’d been doing in the first place. “Well come on, then. In a way, it’s rather poetic justice that you’re here.”
He came to a stop in front of the door that led to the restricted section. It was wide open, revealing the thousands of loose papers scattered over the floor.
“I was just cleaning up your mess.”
She flushed again, biting back a grin.
This was her punishment? To get another crack at the sacred files?
“We’re putting them away, Miss Wardell,” he said pointedly, seeing the spark of excitement in her eyes. “This is not another bite at the forbidden fruit.”
“Right.” She cleared her face quickly. “Of course.”
With that, she set dropped her bag onto the floor and pulled her hair into a ponytail. Maybe it was a good punishment after all. With how disorganized the place was, there w
as a chance she’d be working here all night. From the looks of things, Dorian had already settled in for the long haul. The espresso maker was bubbling in the corner. Soft music was playing from his propped up phone.
“Why did you say you weren’t surprised?” she asked cautiously, kneeling down to pick up a picture of her Aunt Molly jumping off a speedboat mid-explosion. “That I was sent here?”
He frowned at a paper in his hands, lifting his glasses to see it better.
“Guilt,” he answered simply. “When I applied here, it was as a teacher. They wanted to hire me but there were no teaching positions available, so they like to toss me ‘teacherly’ work then they can.” He slipped a stack of papers into a file and stapled it shut. “Unfortunately, that tends to mean lording over all the delinquents and miscreants in the school.”
He flashed a smile and she dropped her eyes with a grin.
“We’re not so bad,” she promised. “At any rate, my friends and I didn’t make this mess. It was like this when we got here. So you’re really coming out ahead in the deal.”
He nodded thoughtfully.
“That’s what I’ll be sure to tell the dean. That when you broke in, you were as shocked by the mess in the restricted section as I was. That you’re more than happy to set things right.”
Her eyes shot up to his face, but a single look said that he was joking. She flashed another grin instead, gathering every piece of paper labeled ‘demolition’.
“Thanks, Mr. Locke.”
“Please, call me Dorian.”
Strange. She didn’t even call her Uncle Luke by his first name when she was sitting in his class. It was always Mr. Fodder. Strange, but she liked it. It leveled the playing field, and implied a sort of respect. He used her first name. Why shouldn’t she be allowed to use his?
“You know,” she began slyly, “you curse more than any teacher I know.”
“We teachers curse a lot more than you think we do,” he murmured, scanning quickly through a case file before dropping it on a pile marked ‘unsolved’. “It’s what happens when you spend every day working with kids.”
