by Maya Daniels
You’ll be fine. Even my inner voice doesn’t sound so sure anymore.
Chapter 15
Walking through the open double doors in the dining area is like stepping into a different building. I expected a lot of tables with plain chairs around them and a long counter where you line up to grab food on a tray, all coming from my limited time in education at the only high school Sienna has. I’m very imaginative that way, my sarcasm bleeding into everything concerning the academy.
My lips part in awe of what I’m looking at.
Opposite the doors is a wall made entirely of floor-to-ceiling windows, allowing the silvery glow of the moon to reach inside and caress the fishbone parquet floor, as well as the long wooden tables set up with piles of food stretching out at the center of the area. Comfortable-looking couches and armchairs line the walls around us, and long coffee tables covered with the same platters piled up high with mountains of food, round all sides of the dining hall. It seems more like an extremely large family dinner than a dining hall for academy students. My stomach growls from the smell of baked meats and loaves of bread, saturating the air, and I’m not even hungry.
“I think we found one place that she likes.” Fenrir’s voice sounds amused, but I can’t find enough motivation to look away from the relaxed atmosphere.
“Second place she likes,” Zoltan chirps arrogantly. He is such a killjoy. “She had the same look on her face when I found her in the training hall.”
I ignore them both.
“Miss Drake?” Clearing his throat, Azgor does get my attention as I'm lead towards one of the empty seats. “I would like to apologize for my overreaction earlier.” His eyes dart around my face, not locking gazes with me. “The aggression in the air triggered my response.” Shoving his fingers in the collar of his shirt, he yanks on it as if it’s choking him. “It’s no excuse, and I’m not making one, I assure you. Having in mind my age, you would expect me to have more control. But you…” Shaking his head, he keeps pulling at the collar of the shirt, stretching it out to the point that the seams rip. “I’ve never felt anything like it. Nor have I seen anyone move or react that fast in the long centuries.” Glancing subtly at the other two men, he finally meets my eyes. “Not even Zoltan.”
My heart does a painful bump against my ribcage.
“Apology accepted.” Seeing that we are standing around empty seating lining the wall, I plop in one of the armchairs so none of them can sit next to me. “It’s not a safe world outside those gates of yours, Azgor.” Choosing my words carefully, I pretend I don’t see Fenrir and Zoltan still standing, as if daring each other who will move first and sit closest to me. “I have trained to protect myself, and no matter how hard I try, I can never control how I react in different situations. You could say I have a strong survival instinct. I don’t think I react.” There, that should satisfy his curiosity.
“Interesting.” Oblivious to the tension of the other two, he moves to the couch, leaning over the hand rest, his face as close as he can get to me. I almost grin when Fenrir and Zoltan turn their glares on the ghoul. “As I said, I teach Supernatural History, yet I have never heard of a Fae with that speed. Which Court did you say you’re from?”
“Seelie.”
“Unseelie.”
Both Zoltan and Fenrir speak at the same time. I can’t help it. I roll my eyes so hard I think I pull a muscle. Azgor looks at all of us with a frown, his head tilted, surely debating if we all jumped on the crazy train.
“My mother is from the Seelie Court, my father from the Unseelie Court.” Looking pointedly at the two idiots, I make sure they know I’m saving their assess, and they need to thank me later.
The historian in Azgor wins over the confusion and suspicion. He turns his full attention to me while the two men shuffle around, finding their own seats. Fenrir sits next to Azgor, and Zoltan plants his firm butt, not that I've been looking, in the armchair opposite mine. I wish he didn’t. The strained smile, which I’m sure is making me look constipated, says as much.
Zoltan smirks.
I grind my teeth.
“That is a rare pairing to be sure.” Azgor continues. The ghoul really is oblivious. “Usually, they all stick to their own.”
“Yes, yes, they do.” Deciding to irk the Fae, I smile brightly at Azgor. “But they realized that sticking to their own ends in offspring leaving things to be desired.” I look pointedly at Fenrir, my smile growing when his nostrils flare. “So, they tried mixing things up, leading to a newer, better version of Fae. Like Fae two point O, let's say.” Thank you, human television. I might not be able to mingle with humans, but I soak up their TV like a sponge every chance I get.
“Oh.” Azgor jerks back like I’ve slapped him, glancing at the Fae next to him warily.
Zoltan laughs.
“Francesca fancies herself a great comedian, my friend.” Fenrir moves closer to the edge of the couch, grabbing a plate and piling food on it while ignoring Zoltan’s laugh and my proud grin. “But, let’s not get sidetracked here. While we have time to talk, I would like to hear more about this second request. My mate’s jokes or family tree can wait for later.”
My smile drops, and the vampire cuts of his laughter abruptly. Two killjoys. Because one of them is not enough in a hundred-mile radius. Fenrir smiles politely at both of us before shifting his body so he is facing the ghoul better.
“Right.” Azgor grabs the collar of his shirt again. I’m beginning to think that’s his tic when he is nervous or uncomfortable. “They look identical, and I admit I was so taken aback that I didn’t even think to check the signature.”
“And you trusted a guard more than your own knowledge of my character.” It’s said conversationally, but there is no mistaking the accusation of those words.
If I didn’t know that Fenrir did indeed trick the academy into bringing me here so I can snoop around, I would’ve accused the ghoul of being a shitty friend as well. But I am here, and I know better. Fenrir looks regal and arrogant as he sweeps his long hair away from his face, securing it in at the back of the head. It makes me wonder how many of the things he said to me are the truth and how many a manipulation.
No one said the Fae don’t like to twist words to pursue their own agendas.
“You must understand that the tension has been running high from the moment she stepped foot in front of the gates.” Giving me an apologetic glance, Azgor continues. “First, she ended up on our grounds without passing the trials, although after what I just saw, I can see how that is possible. Then came the attack right before the guard burst through my doors, telling me we approved two guests to enter. One of which is here causing havoc, and there is no sign of the other.”
“Whoa, whoa, hang on there for a second. We will get back to Fenrir’s hurt pride in a minute.” My spine snaps straight at that information. “Let’s get back to the part of the attack, huh? That horrible sound that brought me to my knees was an attack on the academy?”
All three of them press their mouths in a flat line, clamming up. Like hell they’ll hide this from me now that the cat is out of the bag. I’ll beat it out of them if I have to. Giving the vampire a fast once over, I amend my own declaration. I’ll try my best to beat it out of them. The ghoul will be my best bet, followed by the Fae.
“Listen.” Trying to reason with them, I soften my scowl. “At the moment, I’m here with you, and my life is on the line as well. I deserve to know if I’m in danger and what that danger is.” Looking from one to the other, I linger on Azgor. “So I can protect myself if I have to.” Adding a few wide-eyed flutters of my eyelashes, I can see it’s working when his face softens.
Zoltan and Fenrir both snort.
I ignore them as usual.
“You have nothing to worry about, Miss Drake. You are safe here.” Azgor hurries to assure me. “The humans discovered one of the portals we use to exit and enter Sienna. The poor fools think they’ll gain something if they pass through it, unaware the only thing awaitin
g them is death. It doesn’t stop them from trying, though.” He shakes his head like the humans are misbehaving children.
The air is lodged like a fist in my throat, and I find it difficult to breathe. What might be an annoyance to the Daywalkers can mean certain death, or maybe even a mass slaughter if humans do get past a portal. Most of the residents in Sienna have never seen a human, apart from on TV. They are like fictional characters to them. If they come face to face, the supernaturals will either get killed while standing in shock, or their instincts will take over and they’ll tear the humans apart. We are stronger, yes, but the humans win in numbers. I doubt a handful of them can create something to bring a freak like me to her knees. The ghoul can downplay it as much as he likes, but this is huge, and Roberti needs to know about it like yesterday.
“They will not get through.” Zoltan sounds so sure my eyes jerk to his face. I stare at him for so long that he repeats it again slowly. “They will not get through.”
“You know this how?” Chewing on the inside of my mouth, I search his face. “They shouldn’t have found the portal either.”
“That’s an entirely different problem,” Fenrir speaks, the food forgotten on his plate. “We will deal with that as soon as we can.”
“You have someone working with the humans.” Realization slams me so hard it almost leaves me breathless. “You have one of your own working with them to bring us all down.”
“There have always been those that get too ambitious and try to bring this institution down, Francesca.” Fenrir squares his shoulders. “All of them learn the error of their ways sooner than they expect. You can be sure this will end soon, too.”
“Do you already have an idea who’s behind it?” Something nudges at the back of my mind, but I can’t quite grasp it.
“Not yet.” Nostrils flaring, he looks pained to admit it. His eyes glow for a second, getting my attention.
“The guards!” My shout is much louder than I expected, and I slap a hand over my mouth.
“What are you talking about, that’s impossible…” Azgor gets defensive instantly.
“Let her speak.” Zoltan shuts him up mid-sentence. “What about the guards?”
My mind goes back to the moment when I met the demon, but the words are stuck in my throat. Flicking my eyes at the ghoul, I swallow thickly, unsure if I should just shut my mouth and wait until I can inform Roberti. I’m sure the agency has a stake in this too. Fenrir sees my indecision and, reaching over Azgor, grabs hold of my clammy hand.
“You can say whatever it is in front of both of them.” He squeezes my fingers reassuringly. “None of them are involved in anything that will harm the residents of Sienna. You have my word.”
“When I first saw the demon that was with you”—Jerking my chin towards Azgor, I wrap my fingers around Fenrir’s simply to ground myself, so I can think—“he was talking to someone about the portal and me coming to visit the academy.” All three of them stare at me intently as I rack my brain to remember what they said exactly. “They mentioned something about taking a stand and not wanting the meddling vampire to stick his nose in their business. I’m guessing that’s you and your winning personality, Zoltan.”
He grunts, and my joke falls flat.
“Anyway…” Blowing a breath through pursed lips, I roll my shoulders, releasing Fenrir’s hand, much to his displeasure. “They were talking about having plans about the portal, keeping the two of you away from it and also looking into why Fenrir wanted me here. Whoever the other person was that the demon was talking to knows you were outside the academy. They thought you helped me pass the trials.”
The three of them exchange a look that pisses me off instantly.
“Come now, children, let's share with the class, shall we?” Glaring at all of them, I fold my arms across my chest. “I told you what I heard, so you can extend the same courtesy.”
“The guards are either demons, shifters, or mages,” Azgor says in such a way you’d think he is telling a story. “We can’t know who the guard spoke to unless we know where his rooms are. They are each separated by species.”
“He was in the hallway to the left of where Fenrir’s rooms are.” My eyebrows hit my hairline. “The two of you live with the guards?” Looking from the vampire to the Fae, I can’t help the glee in my expression.
“We took rooms there when this mess started, so we can keep an eye on things. Easier for the guards to get hold of us that way.” Sniffing, Fenrir looks down his nose at me. “We do not live there.”
“Excuse me for the insult of thinking you are like the rest of us, your majesty.” I expected the ghoul and the vampire to laugh.
They don’t.
“You are forgiven,” Fenrir tells me primly, and I get my tenth shock in twenty-four hours.
“You are from the Royal Court?” I realized my mistake as soon as the words left my mouth.
“She’s supposed to be your mate!” Azgor jumps so suddenly that I jump to my feet along with him.
“He’s been hiding his royal bloodline, testing me if I’m only after his status.” Another lie spoken instantly. It makes me doubt if I’ll ever be able to tell the truth.
“We need to speak to the guards,” Zoltan states, the two of them standing as well, the cold food left untouched on the table. I guess we all lost out appetites.
“I’m coming with you.” When he opens his mouth to argue, I cut him off. “Those assholes owe me a bike. And I need the bag of clothes that I’m sure didn’t survive.”
Chapter 16
Burying my face in the soft pillow, I breathe in the fresh scent of something subtle and floral. Detergent is my guess. Stretching my arms over my head, I point my toes straight under the covers, groaning when my muscles protest. The conversations Zoltan and Fenrir were having with the guards proved to be boring as hell, and I was falling asleep on my feet. They convinced me to go rest only after they both gave their solemn oaths to tell me everything they learn in my absence. I even won the argument of having my own room instead of sharing Fenrir’s, and most of my words were incoherent and mumbled. A smile stretches on my face. Those two have no idea who they are dealing with. I can drive the unfeasible Roberti insane when I’m trying very hard not to, so the two of them don’t stand a chance.
It’s a natural talent of mine.
Too soon, my mind clears the fog of sleep and starts to process everything. Wincing when I fling the covers away, I grind my teeth so I can get off the bed. Bypassing their damn trials—or so they keep telling me, although I’m not convinced—was more workout than I’ve gotten in years. Add to that bleeding from my ears, and soon after fighting a demon and a ghoul, a girl needs a break.
Or to get laid, my internal nympho supplies helpfully, adding flashes of Zoltan’s face and body as an added motivation to get things her way.
“Whatever.” Muttering under my breath, I scoop up the pants and a shirt Fenrir was kind enough to find for me. Apparently, I intimidate the students in my leathers that are stained in blood. “And who’s fault is that? Their crazy asses require you to die so you can come here. Idiots!” Riling myself up, cursing up a storm, I head for the shower.
It’s too soon when the water starts turning cold while I’m letting the spray pelt my neck and shoulders. Leaving my head to hang to my chest, I endure it as long as I can. When goosebumps start popping up on my arms, I wash my hair hastily, yanking on it hard, bringing forward another current of curses echoing in the bathroom. The longer I think about everything, the more worked up I get.
Knowing full well I’ll only get into trouble if I keep stewing in anger, I dress as quickly as I can before rushing out of the room like the hounds of Hell are on my heels. Slowing down only when I find my way back to the weapons room that Zoltan called the training hall, I take a deep breath and walk through the door.
No one is here.
It’s either too early, or too late, but I don’t care. I’m not looking to mingle with anyone. It’s perfect for do
ing my yoga stretches that Roberti scoffs and loughs about. The brute thinks unless you have bruises or blood dripping from you, nothing else is considered a workout. He changed his mind when the flexibility I got from it made it difficult for him to hold onto me when we were sparring. Grinning at the memory, I yank the shirt over my head, leaving me in my sports bra. It’s a good thing I wear those. No one needs the girls bouncing around when you are trying not to get killed. Which happens to me often.
Too often, if I'm honest.
Concentrating on my breathing, I block out everything else. My body moves in sync with the air, going in and out of my lips. With my eyes closed, I allow my limbs to flow like water, twisting and turning with each breath. Too soon, I feel someone’s energy probing mine, their nearness alerting my senses. Since I don’t recognize it, I keep my eyes closed, ignoring their presence.
Quite unfortunate that they don’t ignore mine.
“Is that some secret Fae killing technique?” A female voice snickers, followed by another giggle and a male snort.
Bending one knee and with my back leg straight, I spread my arms wide, keeping the warrior pose. I like this pose.
“Maybe it’s a Fae dance technique.” Another female voice chirps, nasally and high pitched.
My torso turns, my shoulders lining up with my bent knee as I lift my arms over my head, fingers pointed at the ceiling. Breathe in. Hold, Breathe out.
“It does look like a stupid dance,” the first female adds. “Maybe she is deaf. I heard her ears were bleeding last night.”
My skin prickles when one of them walks too close. Stiffening, I expect whoever it is to do something, but they just stand there. Deciding to end this, I bring both arms down at the same time as my feet touch together. Keeping my breathing even, I try to ground myself, imagining roots growing from the soles of my feet into the floor. I’ve never been good at this part. It doesn’t stop me from trying. I’m nothing if not determined.
