“But look what happened last time. I don’t know.” I folded my arms, sulking.
May smirked. “Do you think you’re likely to start making out with me?”
“Uh…no.” She was pretty, but not at all my type. Not like her brother. “I prefer the man-folk.”
“Perfect. Then this should work great.” She opened a desk drawer to retrieve another one of those glass vials. “Bottoms up.”
I took it from her, swirling the milky yellowish liquid. It didn’t look appealing at all. With a cringe, I downed the contents.
Newly familiar sensations rippled through my body. I stood up, suddenly having the urge to return to my dorm room. There was something there that I had been neglecting. Something precious to me and I couldn’t wait to get back to it. I headed for the door.
“Where are we going?” May asked, following.
“To my room. I need to go there.”
The lawn was deserted, except for a few second year students hovering around the opposite edge. Once we reached my building, I took the stairs two at a time. May kept up, not saying anything, just watching to see what happened.
In my room I went straight to my dresser. I still wasn’t sure what I was looking for, until my hand brushed over the old tin lunchbox that I had shoved in there. I brought it to the bed and opened it. A peaceful feeling settled into my stomach.
The tin was filled with seashells. One for each time I’d ventured near enough to the beach while growing up. They were the only long-term, consistent piece in my life and I cherished them. I picked up a smooth shell to remind myself of the texture.
“It worked.” May sat down next to me, reaching toward the tin. “And this should—”
I snarled at her. The sound escaped my throat before I even thought about it. I clasped my hands over my mouth, horrified.
“It’s okay.” Her green eyes were wide, her skin a bit paler than usual. But a smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I figured that would happen.”
“What do you mean?” I returned the shell to the tin and closed the lid.
“Dragons collect treasures. They are very protective of them. The fact that you have these, and your reaction to me trying to take one, are two more clues for us.” She bounced on the mattress with excitement.
“But, I read that dragon-shifters collect actual treasure. Like things that have value. These are just old shells.”
“I’d imagine it’s different for each person. The folktales talk about gold and jewels because they’re exciting to us. No one wants to read about the dragon who treasures rocks, or sticks, or crayons. That’s just my theory.” May reached for my arm. “How are you feeling?”
“I think the potion is wearing off. And…dragon-shifter, really? That creeps me out more than being a witch. What am I supposed to do with that?” If I was actually a dragon-shifter, so rare that most people though they were myth, who was supposed to teach me how to be one? I’d roared at May, it had been an instinctual reaction. What was I actually capable of? For the first time in my life—no, for the second time—I was afraid of myself.
The first time was when I’d, maybe, burned down my foster family’s home. If only I could remember what had happened leading up to that. Vague images, almost feelings of trying to protect someone always crept up, along with screaming at my foster dad. Then the flames and accusations. But that was all. Those three images ran in a loop.
My pulse sped and my breath caught as soon as I entered Liam’s classroom. I ate up the sight of him. That silky red hair, his smooth freckled skin over hard muscle, those full lips. Now that I’d tasted those lips, I hungered for another chance to have his mouth on mine.
What was happening to me? I’d never been this horny for someone before. And he was a teacher—off limits, at least in my rational mind.
As I sat in the back row, his soulful eyes darted to mine then away. The tops of his ears reddened—which only made me want him more. And I was sure he could feel all the lust flowing off me.
God, this was embarrassing.
As he started his lecture, his voice seemed to caress my skin. The deep, soft resonance sunk to my core. I squirmed in my seat. Liam blushed at the front of the class, momentarily faltering in his delivery. I was torturing him as much as he was unintentionally tormenting me. He cleared his throat before continuing.
For the next forty minutes we stole glances at each other. The other fae students openly smirked as they read our emotions. Liam sped through his lecture to stay focused. I’d never seen him so nervous before. Watching his reaction to my emotions only fueled my lust, my heart hammering against my ribcage.
By the time class ended, my panties were soaked, my skin flushed. This dragon-shifter crap was a real problem. How was I supposed to get through the rest of term? How was Liam supposed to focus with me in his classroom?
The class emptied out as I packed up my bag. To my surprise, Liam started to approach me. I couldn’t let that happen. If he got within five feet of me, I was going to jump his bones whether he wanted it or not. My dragon side would devour him.
He parted those mesmerizing lips. “Caprice—”
I grabbed my backpack and sprinted out the door. The next few weeks of being around him were going to be blissful hell. Or was it hellish bliss?
First thing Saturday, I was on the phone to Isabella. It was early enough in the evening that I had the turret to myself for once. After catching her up on the whirl-wind of a week I’d had, there was a long silence.
“Dragon-shifter?” Isabella asked. “May is convinced of this?”
“She is. But the dean isn’t. Not yet anyway.” I fidgeted with a loose thread on my sweater. “Well, what do you think? I mean, is it really possible?”
“Caprice, I’ll love you no matter what kind of supernatural you are. I want you to know that.”
I sighed in relief.
She continued, “It is possible. It would mean that your mother was a dragon-shifter. I never knew…I wonder if your father knew…” Her voice trailed off as she thought about it. “No, he would have told me if he’d known.”
“Do you think that I have more family in Cyprus? Other dragon-shifters?” The idea terrified and thrilled me.
“That would be more than likely. I’ll contact the European Council and have them start searching for that side of your family. It’s the least I can do for you.”
She was feeling guilty again for pulling my mom and dad apart. I didn’t want to make it worse for her or rub it in. But if she’d known my mother was a supernatural, would my parent’s have had her blessing? It didn’t matter now. There was no changing the past.
“Thank you, grandma.”
“Of course. Now I have Lyra Gataki as your mother’s name. Do you know anything else about her?”
“No. Just her name on my birth certificate. She didn’t even have a drivers license,” I said.
“Well, that’s a start. I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Really, thank you. That means a lot to me. All of your support does.”
“You’ll always have it. Oh, Caprice, let’s keep this dragon-shifter news quiet. It’s going to cause quite a stir in the community once we announce it. I want to plan the announcement for it, rather than have the gossips latch onto the news. Fair enough?”
“Of course. May and the guys are keeping it on the down-low on campus too.” I glanced out the long slit window. Rain pounded the Academy grounds. “How do you think the other supernaturals will react to this?”
“I don’t know exactly. Rediscovering another type of shifter after several hundred years will be note worthy. Dragon-shifters will have to be recognized and given the chance to run for the elected council position. Not to mention integrated into our society, if there are any others here in America.”
That was a disturbing thought. I could be the only dragon-shifter in the United States.
After saying our goodbyes, I checked for texts from Elena. She’d sent one: Miss you!
Caprice
“Dean Wright won’t let you switch supernatural tracks until we can either get those scales to appear again, or you shift into your dragon form.” May stood over a small black cauldron, stirring as it bubbled. A slight frown pulled at her lips. “This one has got to work.”
I leaned against her workbench in the Potions classroom with a sigh. It was just the two of us, and the large stone room felt drafty and cold now that winter had fully set in. December in Oregon was very different than Maryland. More damp and dreary, with less snow.
I eyed the cinnamon-scented brew. It had been weeks since the potion had revealed any more of my dragon-shifter instincts. I felt stuck in this limbo. Any type of supernatural training was on hold until we had this figured out and could convince the dean.
“You think this concoction will work?” I asked May.
Her hair had frizzed with the humidity. “I’ve made it as strong as I dare.” At my expression, she continued, “Don’t worry. It can’t hurt you. The worst would be an upset stomach.” She dipped her wand into the brew, holding a vial in her other hand. As she magiced the potion into the container, the vial slipped from her fingers. It make a plop sound as it disappeared into the cauldron. “Damn!” May muttered. She reached for another of the glass containers, which fell over and skittered across the table.
I caught it before it crashed to the floor. “Are you okay? You seem distracted.”
“I’m fine.” Her frown deepened. “It’s nothing for you to worry about. Here.” She filled the vial, then held it out to me expectantly.
I took it, draining the contents that tasted like fire whisky. It burned down my throat to settle in my stomach. Some of the chill in my bones retreated.
We waited. And waited, and waited.
“Anything?” May asked, leaning closer.
“I feel warmer,” I offered, as unhelpful as that was. The many potions had awakened enough dragon instincts in me that they’d integrated with my personality. Which was part of the reason I’d been avoiding Jaxon and Liam. Coming to class as late as possible and slipping out as soon as the bell rang. Angel, thankfully, kept a distance all by himself. Each time I drank more of May’s brew, the effects seemed diminished.
She let out a frustrated grunt. “I don’t know what else to do.”
“Should I maybe talk to one of the shifter teachers? Maybe they know something about shifters that you don’t.” I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I’d been wondering for some time if being tutored by a witch was the problem.
May waved a dismissive hand. “Most shifters begin morphing naturally when they’re fifteen or so. Since you haven’t, I don’t know what more they could do for you.” She pursed her lips. “I feel like the problem is within you. That some part of your subconscious is resisting the shift. Did anything traumatic happen when you were about fifteen?”
I chewed on my lip. Jaxon and Isabella were the only two who knew about the house fire. Could May be right? Was I blocking myself?
“Something did, yes.”
“I think that’s the key then. Why don’t we let Liam use his fae abilities to unlock your mind?” She glanced at the wall clock. “It’s almost lunch time. We could track him down.”
“I’d rather…try on my own first.” The last thing I wanted was Liam wandering around in my head. Or spending time alone with him. My skin flushed just thinking about that.
May frowned again, but nodded. “Okay, but we need to get this resolved before next term starts. I want you enrolled in shifter classes.”
I had a week before finals week, followed by two weeks of winter break. Plenty of time to convince myself that breathing fire and shifting into a dragon was okay. Right?
The Saturday after finals week, all the first year students were gathered in the Dean Hall’s giant lobby. The magical scoreboard had been erected, but it was still blank. Any time now our names would appear with our first term points next to them. This was the moment some of us had been anticipating and others dreading. I just wanted to see how far down the board I was, to determine how far I had to climb up next term.
I still hadn’t had any luck with shifting my form. Every time I thought about giving up and going to Liam, my stomach twisted in knots of embarrassment—or were they knots of anticipation? No, I had to figure this out on my own.
Madison fidgeted beside me. “What do you think is taking so long?”
“If it means getting the results right, they can take all night for all I care.” I glanced around at my follow classmates, wondering which ones were failing. Some of these people would be gone—dead or worse—in another six months. I might be among those. I suppressed a shudder.
The scoreboard lit up. Starting at the top, row after row of names filled in. Madison let out a whoop when her name was listed.
Almost at the bottom a red line appeared to occupy one row. Below that line, more names were added.
Second from the bottom was mine.
I was way low in the ten percent. My head spun. For the first time, my situation was sinking in. This was real. This was life or death. And this system was arranged so that death was inevitable. There had to be a Culling.
“Guess that puts you in the Culling Club, Sorrentino.” I jumped at Aimes’ voice right behind me. My pulse pounding in my ears. “Another Italian witch bites the dust.”
“I’m not—” I cut myself off. It wasn’t common knowledge that I wasn’t a witch. Not yet. And Aimes was the last person I wanted to know about that.
I turned to Madison. “What’s the Culling Club?”
She stared at me with those big doe eyes. “I’m sorry, Caprice, but I just can’t—” Unshed tears glistened. She turned away, her long legs taking her into the crowd.
Aimes still watched me, with his arms folded over his broad chest. MacTavish and Bennett were chatting up some other witches about ten feet away.
“The Culling Club,” he said, “is formed every year for those under that big, red line on the board. It’s to honor those who sacrifice themselves for the Truce.” He licked his lips. “The Club is a place to party, drink, fuck. What are you going to do with the last six months of your life, Sorrentino?”
I cringed away from him. I was going to get above that line. Somehow.
Aimes chuckled, turning he joined up with the rest of his group. Now that the board was up and everyone knew where they stood, the hall was emptying out. I didn’t want to be left alone with the witches, but I didn’t feel like going back to my room and a distant Madison. Instead, I headed to May’s office. She might be in.
I knocked several times on her door. When I was about to give up, she tore it open. Her face red with anger, and tears streaming down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, stepping toward her.
She turned away. “Nothing. Everything.” She sniffed. “How did you score?”
I stood staring at her back. I wanted to cry too, for my own reasons. Showing up below that red line made me feel like I’d failed May. She’d worked so hard to help me.
“Not good,” I finally said.
“We’ll figure something out. Try not to worry about it too much.” She snatched up a tissue from her desk and blew her nose.
“Do you want to talk about it? About whatever is upsetting you?” I chewed my cheek, torn between staying to offer my support, and feeling like an intruder on her personal life.
May met my gaze. Her green eyes sad and worried. “I’m not going to burden you with my own issues. What did you come to see me about? Your score?”
“I was actually hoping to be distracted from my score. But I’ll do that someplace else.”
“You have two terms left. A lot can happen in that time. Okay?” With shaky hands she wiped at her damp cheeks.
I wished she’d let me in. Tell me what had her so angry and sad. I quietly closed the door as I left, feeling so very alone.
Winter break was always one of the worst times of year. I
t meant spending too much time with my foster families, odd gift exchanges, and forced merriment. I had a feeling that this one was going to top the list as the worst of all time.
We were stuck on campus. Just the first year students with minimal staff left to make sure we didn’t destroy the place. The Academy felt like a ghost town, especially in the dead of night as snow drifted onto the lawn.
Without classes or homework, I had way too much time to think. I leaned against a lamp post watching the snow fall. My life had just begun a few months ago. I was eighteen and out of the foster system. Finally I could be in charge of my own life. Or not. Instead, I’d ended up in a freak show college, lined up for the slaughter.
I was going to die. To be fed to the Tromara.
Every day I thought about that. Every day hopelessness nestled deeper into my chest.
If I left here, and the Tromara found out about it, they’d kill Isabella. If I stayed, I was doomed. Madison’s mom’s note also kept popping into my brain. Once you fall into the Culling ten percent, there’s only a seventeen percent chance that you’ll rise out of it.
I was fucked.
A shiver ran through me that had nothing to do with the dropping temperature. I headed back to my dorm, not at all looking forward to Madison’s cold shoulder.
When I entered our room, she held out an envelope but didn’t meet my gaze. “This came for you.”
“Thanks.” I opened it. Inside was an invitation to a Culling Club party tomorrow night. The idea of a party made me miss Elena. We’d had plans to party our way through college together. Another unfulfilled goal.
Now that she had a boyfriend and had settled into life at UMB, she wasn’t as responsive to my text messages. My old life was really fading away.
I glanced at Madison. “This is an invitation for a party tomorrow. Want to come?”
“No thanks.” She remained focused on the book in her lap.
Academy Obscura Page 14
