As I nibbled on the club sandwich, my stomach so twisted up that it was difficult to swallow, I focused on my blessings. Aimes and his boys had been among the first to be called in. Which left me with a sense of peace, especially when they didn’t reappear. Maybe they’d never return. That was wishful thinking.
I glanced around at the other witches. The first day they’d all been cheering when everyone claimed their wands. Now they kept to themselves, wary of the other students, not really interacting with anyone else. There were a few small cliques that seemed to be confident that they’d all make it out of here alive. They didn’t talk to anyone outside of their group.
When passing them on the lawn, I noticed the second years also kept to themselves, but in march larger groups. Avoiding freshmen like they had some contractible disease. I could only imagine how traumatized they all had to be, having just survived their own Culling year.
It felt like school was becoming an each person for themself kind of battle. How did the teachers live with this? How could they go through each term knowing that several of their students would be fed to cannibals? Was the Truce really worth all this heartache?
After lunch, and after everyone else had been called in, finally Ms. Duinn came for me. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes when she called my name. With a deep breath, I followed her into the side room and tried to brace myself for failure.
The room was not even ten feet in any direction. It held a student desk, and a large leather chair for Ms. Duinn.
She motioned toward the desk. “Sit. You’ll have fifteen minutes to complete the written exam.”
My heart lifted with hope. I could do a written exam. I might actually do okay on that part, and for once earn some points in this class.
I sat as the teacher settled into the brown chair directly in front of me. Her close presence was distracting from the thick stack of papers on my desk. With effort, I did my best to ignore her and focus on the questions, which were mostly magical theory. I totally had this.
A chime sounded, ending the fifteen minute exam. Ms. Duinn retrieved my papers and they magically disappeared into a pocket on her skirt.
“Now for the practical exam,” she said.
My heart sank. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Oh, simple really. I will teleport you to a place where all you have to do is unlock the door to get out. Bye, bye.” She flicked her wand, filling the space with purple smoke.
It smelled too sweet, like rotting apples. I gagged and coughed. When I was done sputtering, my eyes opened to dark surroundings. I reached out, only to find a solid wood panel five inches in front of my face.
My palms followed the panel to the corners, then down the sides that were so close I couldn’t extend my elbows all the way. I realized I was laying down, trapped inside a box—more like a coffin. I shuddered.
Was I buried alive? What happened if I couldn’t unlock this box?
Panic whirled in my gut. I gasped for air. Even though I knew it wouldn’t help, I drew out my wand and willed the lock that must be on the other side of the wood to open. When nothing clicked, I started kicking and banging. The thumping of my pulse filled my ears.
Then I screamed.
My voice grew hoarse, my throat raw, as the minutes went by. How many minutes? Or was it hours? The metallic scent of blood filled the tiny space as pain shot through my fingertips. Gasping for the diminishing supply of air, I continued to use my nails to scrape at the wood. I tasted salt as tears ran down my face.
I had to get out. I had to get out. It was all I could think, over and over.
Like a person deranged, I kicked and clawed at the unyielding wooden cage.
“Caprice!” The sound was faint. At first, I wasn’t sure if someone was calling my name, or if I was hallucinating it. Then it came again, closer. “Caprice!”
I screamed, the sound coming out dry and cracked. “Here. I’m in here!”
What sounded like a heavy door squeaked on its hinges as it opened. Footsteps clip-clopped on a stone floor to where I was trapped. At least I knew that I wasn’t buried underground. The lock clicked, and I shoved against the top, which fell away to the side, letting in blinding daylight.
I stared in horror. I was in a coffin.
Strong arms reached in and scooped me up. I recognized Liam’s citrusy scent before I focused on his face. His lips her set into a hard line, his brow furrowed.
“Shh. I got you,” he said in his most soothing tone as he set me on my feet.
“That bitch!” May stood near the coffin, wand in hand.
“How did you find me?” I croaked.
May’s green eyes were livid. “When you didn’t appear for dinner… She did the same thing to me my first year.” She put away her wand.
My body trembled from the adrenaline. Liam wrapped an arm around my waist to keep me from collapsing. “Aren’t there rules against this kind of thing?” I asked.
May came up to me, taking my hands in hers. “There are only two rules here. Don’t go beyond the walls. And try not to get culled.” That was exactly what Jaxon had said in his office.
“Is that true? I thought it was just a saying.” I glanced at my hands and let out a shriek. My nails were broken—torn. My fingers covered in blood.
“Oh, wow. You’re in shock.” May dropped my hands. “We need to get her to the hospital,” she said to her brother.
All I could do was stare at my ruined hands. A wave of dizziness blurred my vision. Liam caught me. He swept me up against his chest, and followed May out the door. He must have been using some kind of fae magic on me, because my body relaxed against him as my nerves settled. The fear and panic subsided to a dull roar at the back of my mind.
The hospital staff had me cleaned, medicated, and bandaged. With a healing potion, they sent me back to my dorm room to recover. It had be around nine o’clock in the morning, and I was not used to being up at that time anymore. Exhausted, I managed to get into my room without waking Madison before collapsing on my bed.
I slept for a good thirty-six hours. Whatever they put in that healing draught had knocked me out. When I woke, I felt good enough to be pissed off at Ms. Duinn for trapping me in a coffin and leaving me there. Knowing full well that I wouldn’t be able to get out on my own.
At the same time, I was grateful that it was a Saturday. I chose some fresh clothes, then wandered down the hall for a long, hot bath. I unwrapped the gauze on my fingers, relieved to find that the skin had healed. My nails were still broken but didn’t hurt anymore.
The bath did its job to revive me. I was more relaxed than I’d been in weeks as I walked back to my room—until I saw the note tacked to my door. I plucked it off. It was another summons to staff office number nine, which meant having to see Jaxon again.
A whole bunch of feelings hit my chest at the same time. I was still angry with him for trying to bully me the last time I was in his office. A fluttering, that could only be attraction, bubbled up. And guilt, over my unexpressed gratitude for his role in saving me in the woods—twice since I’d arrived in Oregon. Isabella wanted me to trust him, maybe I should. Trusting others was difficult.
The note incinerated in blue sparkles. I gently ran my fingers through my wet hair as I trudged to the staff building and located Jaxon’s office. He answered on the first knock, stepping back to let me enter. I could tell from the hard set of his jaw that I was not going to enjoy this meeting.
He strode behind his desk, gesturing for me to take the other chair.
“What? You’re not going to harass me at the door this time?” I said before I could stop myself. My anger at him was the dominate emotion at this point. I braced myself for his temper.
His jaw worked, but he didn’t have a snarky comeback as I’d expected. Instead he sat down. “I’ve become aware of your mid-term results in Magic. As your advisor—”
“What? Are you going to stick me back in that coffin? Force magic to come out of my wand?” I gripped the back
of the chair that I stood behind. Why did he always make me so mad?
His grey eyes darted to mine. “No. I’m pulling you from Ms. Duinn’s class. From now on you’ll have private tutoring with me every morning at five. Starting Monday, we’ll meet here.”
I searched his handsome features. For a moment, I was at a loss for words. He was taking me out of Ms. Duinn’s class. That was the nicest thing he could have possibly done for me. I didn’t know if he knew that nor not. But it was.
Tutoring with him on the other hand, well… We’d see how that turned out.
“Th-thank you.” I managed, when my voice returned.
“It’s my job.” There was the Jaxon that I knew—all duty. His words dousing the gratitude that had filled me with warmth.
I ignored his tone. “What Ms. Duinn did to me… Are there really no rules here against that sort of thing?”
“No. The teachers are free to do as they wish with their students.” He ran his fingers through his blond waves. “The Culling year is harsh. Teachers don’t coddle their students, because it doesn’t do any good for anyone. As your advisor, I have the ultimate authority on what is best for your education. That’s why I’m taking you out of her class.”
“I see.”
He held my gaze for a few more heartbeats. “You’re free to go. I’ll see you Monday.” With a flick of his fingers, the door behind me opened. Did he always have to be such a cold jerk?
I stormed out of his office, inhaling deeply to gain control over my temper. I’d worked on that control for years, yet every time I was around Jaxon he pushed me over the edge. I was mad at him for his cold, detached attitude. For his bossy stubbornness. Hell, I was even upset at him for rescuing me. Because he had no right to save my life, and risk his own, when he didn’t care about me. Not really anyway.
He made me feel like I was a chore to him. Just part of his job description to look after me, because the Council Queen had ordered him to do so. I was being unfair. That was exactly the situation. I just wanted…more.
Stupidly, I wanted him to like me. I wanted the glimpses of warmth and kindness from him to be genuine. But they weren’t.
I stepped into the chilly night air. It was Saturday, which meant I could call Isabella or text Elena.
Shit! Elena. I’d sent her that crazy text last weekend. She must think I’m insane.
I jogged over to the Dean’s Hall to check-out my phone. When I turned it on, the low battery warning popped up. As did a text from Isabella and a long message from Elena.
The one from Isabella read: As far as I know, your mother was human. Hope that helps.
It didn’t help, but I would pass that information along to May.
I thumbed over to Elena’s text.
LOL! You’re so funny. A vampire? I don’t even know what a fae is… His name’s Tyler, and he’s super sweet. He’s not really friends with that guy who attacked you. I guess they were before, but they had a falling out. Tyler is a great guy, you’d like him. So don’t worry about me! I’m happy!
I chewed on my lower lip. My best friend was dating a supernatural and didn’t know it. He had to have attended Academy Obscura before UMB, maybe I could ask around about him. See what kind of guy he really was.
Being a supernatural was a huge secret to keep from his girlfriend. Here I was, keeping the same secret from my best friend. Who was in the wrong?
The next day our mid-term report cards arrived under the door of our room. Madison jumped out of bed to retrieve hers, and I did the same. We sat on the floor, and ripped into the envelopes. She scanned the paper inside, sighing with relief.
I read my results and they were as I’d guessed—mostly. Ninety-eight percent in History, ninety-seven in Mythology, and zero in Magic. Ms. Duinn hadn’t even given me any points for the written exam part. I never had to deal with her again, I reminded myself. May had even given me a seventy percent just for showing up to class and trying in Potions.
“Did you do good?” I asked Madison.
She grinned and nodded. “Even my mama might be proud of this report. Ninety-eight percent in all of my classes, and I’ve been working so hard, and it paid off! Maybe she’ll stop sending those horrible notes that are supposed to inspire me, now that I have this score. What about you?” Worry creased her brow.
“I’m not doing as well as you, that’s for sure. But don’t worry about me.” I returned to sit on my bed. “Tomorrow I’m starting private tutoring for Magic, so I won’t be in class anymore. But I’ll see you in Potions.”
She gave me a tight smile. I knew what she had to be thinking. Private tutoring was a bad sign. I was going to get culled.
Unless I got the hell out of here first. I had time though. The Culling wasn’t until the end of the year.
15
Liam
“You took her out of Ms. Duinn’s class?” May asked. She sat on the edge of Jaxon’s desk, her hands folded in her lap.
He inclined his head. “Now I need to figure out how to tutor her. How to break past whatever barriers in her mind are in the way of her magic. Any ideas?” Jaxon glanced across his desk at me.
“I think—”
May cut me off. “Has she told either of you about the black scales on her skin?”
“What?” Jaxon and I said at the same time.
“I’ll take that as a no.” May passed Caprice’s story along to us. “I don’t think her mom was human. And I don’t think that she’s a witch. I mean, I had trouble with my magic when I was young, but I could still do some things with it. We all knew I was a witch and not a fae.”
She had an interesting point. If Caprice’s mom was a different kind of supernatural, and the dominate gene…that would explain a lot. However, Caprice hadn’t shown any signs of being a vampire, werewolf, fae, or witch…
“Scales you said?” I asked my sister. “Could she be some kind of shifter?”
“I don’t believe it at all,” Jaxon said. “She burned down her foster families house with fire, which was produced by magic. She’s a witch. She’s just suppressing her abilities for some reason. Maybe she’s traumatized from the experienced.”
“That’s what I was going to suggest earlier,” I mumbled, with a pointed stare at May for interrupting me, which either didn’t register or she decided to ignore.
“I think she’s a shifter,” May said. “But there are so many different kinds. I’m going to do some research. Catch you guys later.” She closed the door softly behind her.
“How did my sister get roped into all this?” I asked.
Jaxon shrugged. “For some reason she likes Caprice.”
I made a non-committal noise to stop myself from getting on Jaxon’s case. It was so obvious to the rest of us that he was in love with Caprice—or at least that he liked her a lot. I was fine hanging back and watching him figure it out for himself. Years of experience had taught me that you can’t tell Jaxon anything. He’ll immediately deny it. Although eventually he always came around, and rubbing in the I-told-you-so was satisfying. But not this time. This time he was on his own to figure it out.
As much as I tried to keep a professional distance with Caprice, she was getting under my skin. Twice I’d carried her battered, traumatized body to the hospital, and while that was absolutely not a turn on, it made me feel a greater sense of worth. I felt special being the one to hold her, and help her, and sooth her. Pathetic.
If she had to choose between me and Jaxon, she’d pick Jaxon in an instant. Since he was already in love with her, I didn’t stand a chance. All he had to do was realize his feelings, tell her, and that would be the end of it.
Until then, I’d do what I’d promised. Look after Caprice with Jaxon and Angel. Speaking of which…
“What the hell’s up with Angel?” I asked. “I though he was supposed to be helping us with Caprice.”
Jaxon stood, rubbing his face. “I don’t know. He’s been distant lately. Probably a wolf thing.”
“Huh.” I stood
too, glancing at the wall clock. “I have a call to take. See you tomorrow.”
I jogged down the hallway, then up the stairs to the building’s one tower. It was the only place to get good cell reception, and I had a phone appointment set up with my father. No one else was up there. An early morning sun brightened the heavy, grey clouds. Another wet day was ahead, and a soggy night.
I found his contact in my phone and tapped it. At the first ring, my chest tightened. What did he want to talk with me about? On the second ring he answered with a clipped, “Yes”.
“Hi, Father. How are you?” My grip tightened on the phone.
“I heard you’re teaching the Sorrentino heir. Is there some reason that you didn’t tell me this yourself?” For a fae his voice was gruff.
“I—”
“Don’t give me your excuses. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is she’ll be the next Council Queen, and this is our chance, Liam. This is your chance.”
I licked my lips. “What exactly do you want me to do?”
“Make her yours, of course. If those damned Stewarts won’t die and give up their fae council seat, we’ll do them one better and align ourselves with the Council Queen. Your children will rule the supernaturals.”
I choked on air. “Father—”
“Don’t give me that, boy. No excuses. Compel her if you have to, but get her in bed, and put a ring on her finger. I don’t care how you get her. Just get it done.” He hung up.
For several moments, all I could do was stare at my phone. My father was always coming up with schemes to displace our family rival, the Stewarts. But this? This was absurd. I had a sinking feeling that he wasn’t going to let this one go. He’d call me next week to check on my progress. And what could I do?
With a sigh, I slipped the phone back into my trousers pocket. I’d ignore him. For now. Give my mother time to talk him out of this idea.
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