A tense moment of silence filled the room and Jane felt her right leg unconsciously start to bounce up and down as she waited for his answer. When it came, she was not reassured in the least.
“Oh my, Miss Cabot,” he said in an uncharacteristically serious voice. “There is so much you don’t know.”
“Um … what?” Not the most intelligible response, but Jane couldn’t help it. Nor could she help the slight tilt of her head as she looked at AckPec’s dean.
“Show me.” It was as though she hadn’t even spoken. He was still looking at her with a mixture of warm seriousness, waiting for her to comply.
“I’m sorry,” Jane said, furrowing her brow ever so slightly. “Show you what?”
Ethan lifted one hand and waved it horizontally. “Move something,” he said. “With your mind, of course.”
Jane’s eyes descended to her hands, picking at the denim of her jeans. Her cheeks flushed as she forced her eyes back at Ethan. “Sorry, sir,” she murmured. “But I don’t know exactly how it happened. One minute, I wanted my textbook, the next, it knocked me in my head. Which is how I got this.” She brushed her lip-length bangs from her forehead—she had arranged the locks to hide the bruise in preparation for the club outing last night—and showed Ethan her bruise. It was pretty poignant; a dark purple color against her fair skin.
The dean surprised her by smiling rather than claiming disbelief or urging her to do something she didn’t know how to do. She watched as he reached out and grabbed a stray piece of paper.
“Trust yourself, Miss Cabot,” he instructed gently. “Take this paper out of my hand.”
Jane wasn’t sure what to do. This didn’t work when she wanted it to, it just worked. Although, if she was being honest, she had never actually tried to move something. In fact, it wasn’t until yesterday when Elle confronted her about it did Jane actually admit that this ability was somehow impossibly in her possession. Beforehand, she had thought such an action was mere coincidence, which was a pretty big reach since Jane didn’t actually believe in coincidences.
“So just …” She regarded him, perplexed. She didn’t want to do anything wrong. And what if nothing happened? Ethan wouldn’t believe her and then he’d think she was a liar who wanted attention. Then word would spread, as it was always does, and everyone would know that she was desperate for recognition to the point where she’d lie about something that was beyond the realm of possibility.
“First of all, relax,” he teased lightly. “You can’t possibly move physical objects tensed up the way you are. And then, simply move the paper out of my hands and into yours.”
“But how?” She still didn’t understand.
“Trust, Miss Cabot. Trust.”
Jane shook her head, clearly doubting herself. This wasn’t going to work. How could it? She didn’t know what to do, and it didn’t appear that Ethan was going to give her any hints.
She was going to waste his time and then she’d be a laughing stock.
She really shouldn’t have let Elle talk her into this meeting.
But she had to at least try.
For whatever reason, Jane closed her eyes. Immediately, the muscles in her body relaxed and her mind started to buzz.
Buzz.
It sounded ridiculous, but Jane didn’t know how else to explain it. Then, she thought, hesitating only slightly, Paper, come into my hand.
She waited. And waited.
When nothing happened, Jane opened one eye. The paper was still in Ethan’s hand.
She knew this wouldn’t work. Why was he still smiling? Wouldn’t he be disappointed? Everyone knew Ethan loved anything rare and inexplicable. If Sophie was indeed a physical, it was no wonder she was here at AckPec. And Jane? Well, if it was true and Jane could indeed move objects with her mind, she was unsure what she was. Perhaps undefined? Perhaps a commodity? Perhaps a freak?
Maybe she should try again. Ethan was looking at her with expectancy, waiting for her to do what she claimed to be able to do.
Okay.
Eye closed? Check.
Relaxed? Um … check.
Paper, will you please come to me?
Immediately, she opened her eyes instead of waiting. It still had not moved.
Jane frowned at this, feeling anger start to prickle. Now it was a matter of pride. She knew she could move objects with her mind, and she knew she wasn’t crazy. She even had the bruise to prove it. And if Elle didn’t believe her then she wouldn’t have forced Jane to make this appointment with Ethan. Elle wouldn’t have insisted at this if all Jane would do was make a fool of herself.
No.
As crazy and as impossible as it was to believe, Jane Cabot could move things with her mind on top of reading people’s thoughts. It was true and she was damn well going to do it. Her mind didn’t have time to go through the mental checklist. Her eyes snapped shut, her brow furrowed, and she demanded that the paper come directly to her this instant.
Before she could open her eyes to check whether or not the third time was indeed the charm, something slapped her in the face. It wasn’t as hard as a book, but it still surprised her.
Ethan started to laugh.
Jane looked down. The paper, after proceeding to smack her in the face, had drifted down to her lap. There it was: her proof. Ethan saw it too. She started smiling as a result. She did it. She moved the piece of paper with just her mind. Her head started to pinch but she ignored it.
“So it’s true,” she murmured to herself.
“Of course it’s true,” Ethan said, not in a snappish tone. His hand was already reaching for the phone—the only thing that wasn’t buried under his clutter besides his computer monitor. “Now I need to speak to—”
“What?” Jane yelped, her body going rigid. “Do you have to tell anyone? No one will believe me, and I really don’t think I should prove myself to everyone who wants me to.” She remembered all the stares Sophie got this morning at breakfast. “I don’t want people to know what I am. I don’t even know what I am. Can’t we just keep this between the two of us?”
Ethan waited until Jane had finished before saying, “I’m afraid not, Miss Cabot. I am an animus but that is all I am. I can’t teach you how to be a quis—someone who is able to both read minds and move objects with their thoughts. I can’t teach you how to quicken your instincts or sharpen your ability. But I do know somebody who can, and I guarantee you, Miss Cabot, discretion is as important to him as it is to you.”
Jane inhaled deeply. “There’s somebody else that’s like me?” she asked, wanting to hope but unsure if she should.
“Yes.” He still hadn’t dialed the number but the phone was in his hand. “Who else would be able to teach you?”
“Teach?” Jane pushed her brows up. “The person teaches here?”
“Yes,” he repeated. He was still smiling, probably the most patient person she knew.
“Who?” She wasn’t sure if it was rude to ask so abruptly, but her need to know won over politeness.
“You’re actually quite familiar with him,” Ethan said, his finger beginning to press down on the keys. “Professor Depogare.”
11
By the time the two had arrived back at the academy, it was well after lunchtime and dinner was a couple of hours away. Luckily, Will had had the foresight to introduce her to Sole, a popular Italian restaurant on the island that students visited almost daily. Will told her to drop off her clothes, grab a jacket, considering the sun would set relatively soon, and get back down there as soon as possible, which meant she couldn’t unpack anything. She only had a minute to run a brush through her hair, go to the bathroom, toss the bags on her bed, and throw on a new jacket.
When she returned downstairs, Will gave her a look she was beginning to get familiar with and she was now certain that she would endure it at least three times every time she saw him, no matter how short a time that was.
“What?” she asked. “Haven’t you heard that patience is a virtue?”
“I’ve heard it,” he said, and she could tell that he was trying to keep his composure.
As the two headed across the large field, Sophie noticed an extra pair of jeans in his hands. Before she could ask him about it, she noticed a few students that had finished early say hello to Will, but when they saw her, they either looked away or did nothing but stare. This didn’t help with Sophie’s difficulty at considering herself normal even among people of her own kind. Will seemed to sense the red head’s stiffness because he placed his hand on her back once more and steered her away from them to somewhere much more secluded.
Sophie was surprised at how calm the dusk was. The moon was just starting to rise nearly half-full against the colorful sky and there was a very slight breeze that picked her hair up from her shoulders and caused the leaves to rustle against each other. Nobody surrounded them; their privacy was ensured.
“What are we going to do?” she asked, trying—and failing—to stifle a yawn. “Are you really going to train me even though we’ve been through so much today?”
“I only rescued you from being charged with murder yesterday,” Will retorted.
“That was Ethan, by the way,” she pointed out.
“You’re cranky.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I’m tired,” she corrected. “And if you want me on my game and if you want me to remember everything you’re going to teach me then you have to let me get some food in me and get some sleep.”
“I promise this will only take a few moments,” Will stated, “then you can shower and get dinner.”
“Fine.” She glanced around herself, taking in the grass, the scenery, the smell of salt in the breeze. She was glad she had brought her sweater. “I’m afraid that if I eat in the Dining Hall everyone’s going to stare at me.”
“You’re going to have to get used to it, kid,” Will said. For whatever reason, his voice dropped to a whisper, but for someone with Will’s voice, it was more husky than soft. “Listen, I’ve never been where you are, but the best advice I can give you is to own who you are so no one else will. The more you shy away from people, the more they’ll talk and stare at you. And who knows? Maybe they’re staring at you because you’re beautiful.”
“Was that a compliment?” she asked, thankful that her hair concealed a good amount of her blush.
Will shrugged his shoulders but he was smiling. “Listen, that was inappropriate for me to say, but take it how you want,” he said and his smile turned mischievous.
“So,” she said, rubbing her hands together. She felt the need to change the subject before things got too weird considering they were actually getting along. “What are you going to teach me, exactly? How to fight? Proper form? How to throw a left hook? How to—”
“Would you just shut up?” He sighed again, glancing away. From the way he was looking out to the ocean, Sophie felt as though there was some inner debate going on inside of him. Like he wasn’t sure if he should teach her whatever it was he was going to teach her. “I’ve never done this in front of anyone before. Even though the shifters here have developed this pack mentality, it’s something I prefer to do by myself.”
Sophie had no idea what he was talking about, but she was afraid that if she interrupted him, he wouldn’t share his secret. A secret she wanted to know. She wanted to feel close to him. She realized she wanted to trust him.
“Just don’t do anything stupid, okay?” he asked, giving her a look that showed he believed she just might do something stupid.
Sophie wanted to give him a dry retort but stopped herself. Whatever it was that he was going to do was obviously important to him, and as a result, she didn’t want to talk him out of it by doing or saying something offensive.
“I won’t,” she said. Her voice came out quieter than she had anticipated.
“Okay.” He glanced up at the sky and shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Without warning, he took off his shirt and Sophie couldn’t help her sapphire eyes as they dropped to look at his toned torso sprinkled with chestnut colored hair. A happy trail skimmed down his abdomen and trailed down underneath his jeans, and she smiled stupidly. She had a thing for happy trails. Her eyes sculpted every inch of him, the contours between his abdominal muscles, the slopes of his biceps. God, Will was the most beautiful specimen she had ever seen on the planet and she hadn’t even seen all of him.
Then, just like that, he changed right before her eyes into a wolf. The jeans ripped, and it finally made sense to her why he had brought along the spare pair. Even so, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Not only was he beautiful as a man but he was beautiful as a beast. She thought she would be able to recognize him in his wolf form even if he hadn’t shown her. His hair was the same rich color and his eyes—those hazel eyes—were easily recognizable as his.
“Wow,” she breathed, dropping to her knees so she could look him directly in the eyes. The words tumbled out of her mouth and she couldn’t stop them. “You’re beautiful.”
Before she could stop herself, Sophie reached out and placed her hand on his head. Will, in his wolf form, looked surprised and stiffened under her touch, and she wasn’t sure if she should keep her hand there or move it. After a moment, he seemed to lean into it, and she grinned as she gave him a couple of pats to the head.
Without a warning, he began to transform back into a man and she quickly stood up. She was breathless by the time he returned to normal, and they just stood there, him completely naked, staring at each other.
She had never seen anything as miraculous as his transformation, to the point where she wasn’t even blushing at his blatant exposure.
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Will said, reaching down to grab his jeans, all while keeping his eyes on her. It was like he didn’t trust her not to look. She couldn’t exactly blame him because she definitely wanted to. “But I think you just complimented me.”
Sophie snorted, turning around and giving him his privacy. “Like you aren’t used to it,” she retorted. Honestly, how could he not be? She was surprised he didn’t have students—the girls especially—and other professors lining up and asking him to transform in front of them.
“Not everyone thinks it’s something to be complimented,” Will told her. She took this as a sign that it was safe to look and found him standing back up with his jeans on, his shredded jeans in his hands. “Even other shifters think it’s somewhat of a curse.”
“What do you think?” she asked him.
He looked at her. “It’s kind of like a beautiful nightmare,” he admitted. His eyes were on hers then, looking at her like she was something he couldn’t quite figure out. “I’ve never gotten a response like yours before.”
“That’s probably because you choose to do it alone,” she pointed out. Sophie opened her mouth to ask him something but shut it. Then she changed her mind again because she had to know. “Why did you show me that?”
Will looked away, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m like a pickle and you’re like relish; we’re different but we’re somehow from the same family,” he replied. “As much as we may disagree, we’re stuck with each other. We’re in this together.” A brief, awkward pause, and then, “Let’s go grab dinner. I’m starving.”
12
Professor Depogare?
Professor Depogare was going to be her instructor? She already had to deal with him for mental training and now she’d be seeing even more of him? What did he know about being a—what did Ethan call it? A quis?—whatever it was, how did Depogare know about it? How could he train her unless he was one?
Unless he was one.
This caused Jane to pause, pressing her lips together. What if he was one? She tried to think of any time when Professor Depogare had moved an object with just his mind. No, she couldn’t think of an instance. She furrowed her brow, gnawing on her bottom lip. If Depogare was indeed a quis—what did the word even mean, anyway?—he certainly hid it well. It didn’t
surprise Jane. Besides his full name and his love of dark suits, the student body of AckPec didn’t know anything about him. For whatever reason, this particular piece of information sparked an insatiable curiosity in her to figure out everything there was to know about the man.
Which ultimately vanished when the man himself appeared. He was wearing one of his suits with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. This surprised Jane for two reasons: one, the fact that he was purposefully exposing skin that would otherwise be hidden; and two, because his forearms were rather … masculine. Strong. And, icing on the cake, there was a tattoo on his left forearm, a richly detailed gothic cross. It wasn’t big, but it was definitely noticeable.
Wow.
So Depogare was religious and approved of tattoos?
That was interesting.
His hooded eyes flickered from Ethan over to Jane, lingering on her long enough to send an icy chill down her spine. For whatever reason, her eyes were locked with his and she couldn’t look away. It was an odd feeling. He was so completely antagonizing, and yet he had this magnetic quality that was irresistible, drawing people to him like a flame did to a moth or cheese did to Jane. He wasn’t even good looking. It was just something in his air.
The door shut behind him and he looked back at Ethan. The spell had been broken.
“You are kidding.”
Really broken.
Though the words were nothing short of insulting, they dripped out of his mouth like caramel. It was one of life’s anomalies, how someone who looked the way Depogare did sounded like that.
“Actually, I’m not.” Ethan stood and gestured at the only vacant seat next to Jane. “Have a seat, Daryl. This is obviously important and, as such, should be discussed right now.”
Stranger Series Box Set Page 9
