Bloodbound Nocturne (The Sophia Kelly Chronicles Book 1)

by Amy J. Wenglar

  Why? Dear God, why must I always make a fool of myself in front of this man?

  I lift my eyes toward the sky as if actually expecting the universe to answer my silent question.

  Dr. D lets out a growl of pain as the hot tea soaks through his shirt, staining it a dirty brown. He mutters something angrily under his breath. And thank God it's German because I don't think I want to know the English translation.

  "Oh my God," I squeak, covering my mouth with my hands and taking a step back. "I am so sorry.” I reach for his arm, as if that will do any good. "No… Mug… Glass all over the… No," I mutter under my breath as I look down at the floor and then back at the enraged professor. I can't even form a complete sentence. "No," I say again, as I kneel down to scoop up the shards of broken glass.

  Who the hell carries tea around in a fancy glass mug anyway? He's not even British.

  "Don't do that," he barks, grabbing my arm and lifting me to my feet. "With your track record, you'll slice your hand off, Miss Kelly."

  "No," I say, kneeling back down in front of the mess. "Someone could get hurt. Slip and fall, and—"

  "Yes, and it will probably be you. Would you get up? You're going to cause a scene. I will call a janitor to clean this up."

  He helps me to stand, and I stare helplessly at him. I clench my sweaty palms at my sides so that I can do no more damage. "I'm so sorry. I-I wasn't paying attention."

  "Obviously."

  "Are you okay?"

  He smiles curtly at me. "I'm as well as can be expected after having steaming hot tea dumped on me, Miss Kelly. Thank you for asking."

  "Is there anything I can do? I'll go find the janitor." My nails dig into my palms so hard I feel like I may draw blood. I turn stiffly and start to go, but he stops me in my tracks.

  "Oh, I'm sure you have better things to do, Miss Kelly," he snaps. "Just… go. I'll handle it."

  With my face on fire with embarrassment, I duck my head and dart past Dr. D and out the door leading into the courtyard. I can feel him watching me, angry and scowling, as I hurry down the wide sidewalk toward the waiting Volkswagen. Seeing Greg sitting in the driver's seat is like seeing my brother, or what I imagine seeing a brother would feel like. He feels like home to me, and at this very moment there's no place I'd rather be.

  "I made it," I squeal as I climb into the passenger seat, still trembling from my run-in with Dr. D.

  Greg brightens, leans over, and hugs me, kissing my cheek. "That's my girl," he says, his voice beaming with pride. "I knew you would. You were so worried, and what did I tell you?"

  "I know, G. I knew I had a great audition. But the conductor… he isn't known for being very nice…"

  "Yes, the pianist from the concert. The one you had the thing for," Greg finishes for me.

  "Had," I reiterate. "I had a thing for him that lasted about five minutes. Anyway, I just barreled over him in the hallway and spilled tea all over him." I flop back against my seat, covering my face with my hands. "I can't function normally around him. I am late to his class. I spill tea on him. Lord knows how I made it through the audition."

  "Maybe you still have a thing for him." Greg casually pretends to be interested in something on his fingernail. "And that's why you're so clumsy."

  My face flushes again. "I'm not going to lie, I do find him attractive." Greg makes a face. "But not like that. He's a professor, and I'm a student, and… Stop looking at me like that, G. His girlfriend is a model, remember?" Greg's gaze is unwavering. "And he's a professor. So many layers of wrong there. It's like a seven-layer dip where every layer just gets worse and worse. And… not to mention the fact that he's unpredictable and exhausting. One minute he's nice. The next he's a jerk. I don't know how anyone can keep up. I struggle sometimes. I really do."

  "Hey." Greg pats my knee just as I start to say something else about the professor. "Let's celebrate your orchestra victory. Let's go eat something trashy and then stuff our faces with dessert?"

  "I don't need a celebration to do that," I say, the excitement of a yet-to-be-decided-on-dessert rushing through my head.

  "So tell me," I begin, as I practically inhale a mouthful of pho. "How was your first day, G? Any cute guys in your classes?" I practically have to yell across the table at him, the restaurant is so crowded and loud.

  Greg and I had chosen a favorite pho restaurant on campus, and after taking that first bite I understood why it was so popular.

  "It was great, but not nearly as exciting as yours, that's for sure." He grins at me. "And yes, there are plenty of cute guys." He bites his lip. "Aaaaand, I may or may not already have a date this weekend."

  "Really? Already?" My mouth falls open in mock surprise.

  I didn't have a single doubt in my mind that he would already have met someone. Greg is one of the most handsome men I've ever seen. Men and women alike are always checking him out. We used to joke about how he should go into modeling rather than law. He'd been approached about it numerous times back in L.A., but Greg was never a regular teenager. He was more concerned with his GPA than his looks, but looking at his perfect, well-groomed features, you'd never know it.

  "Tell me about him."

  Greg shrugs shyly. "Not much to tell, really. We just met today. Sat next to each other in class. He's a freshman too, and from Alaska, of all places. Technically, we're going to study together, but, well, you know how that goes."

  We fall into our usual pattern of endless chatter about anything and everything as we eat the rest of our dinner. It feels nice spending time together like we used to. Even though we're roommates and see each other every day, we haven't actually spent much quality time together since we arrived in Austin. We emerge from the restaurant an hour later stuffed silly with pho and giggling over the same things we'd found amusing since we were kids. We walk by a coffee shop and I stop for a moment to look in the window, suddenly struck with an idea.

  "You know, I could get him a new mug," I murmur thoughtfully, chewing my bottom lip. "Make up for the fact that I broke his. I should get a shatterproof one as a joke. Maybe one of those sippy cups they give to kids." I snicker to myself when I picture Dr. D carrying his tea around in a plastic sippy cup. "He probably wouldn't think it was funny, though. I don't think he knows how to laugh."

  "Listen to you." Greg gasps and gives me a playful nudge. "You like him." I whirl to face him, feeling the blood rush to my face. "You do still like him, don't you? You totally have a thing for your professor!" he practically announces to the entire sidewalk.

  I'm going to kill him.

  Greg covers his mouth and titters into his hands the way he always does when he's just learned some big, juicy secret.

  "No, I don't," I snap, as I reach out to punch him in the arm, but he darts out of my way. "I just feel bad for running him down in the hallway and spilling tea all over him. It doesn't mean I have a thing for him. My God."

  "Not buying it."

  "Greg." I give him a warning look, hoping that will shut him up. I hate it when he gets like this. People stare at me as they pass, and I pray that they're not music faculty or other music majors. "I'm going inside," I hiss, determined in my mission to replace the mug I broke. "You wait outside unless you can chill out."

  "Okay," Greg says, lowering his voice to a more even, serious tone, his laughter waning. "I'm done now."

  We leave the coffee shop with enormous cups of coffee, which we both agree is enough to get us through our first night of college studies. Fortunately, Greg has stopped teasing me for now, and we are back to our usual talk about nothing in particular. I tuck the bag with Dr. D's new shatterproof mug into my backpack and grin to myself. It's a peace offering, and something I hope will bring some happiness to his otherwise dreary world.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ducking down the hallway to the faculty offices the next morning, I press my ear to the door of Dr. D's office to see if I can hear any movement inside. I don't know why I feel so secretive. It's perfectly normal for me to be
here. He is my boss. He is my professor. I have something for him, and I want to give it to him. Nothing wrong with that. As I raise my hand to knock on the door, I hear his voice. He's talking on the phone.

  "I don't care, Greta. It isn't about them. I swore to him. I made a promise to him. Remember? I promised I would protect her. I intend to keep that promise. No… You know as well as I do she is in danger." His voice is firm and commanding, but there's emotion there. Pain. "I can't force her to… No… If she knew about that… No, as far as I know, she has no idea—"

  He stops talking suddenly, and for a moment there is nothing but silence all around me. An eerie chill runs up my spine and I hold my breath, clutching the mug to my chest, afraid to make even the slightest noise or tiniest movement for fear he will discover me out here. I hold my breath as my mind urges me to leave now, before he comes out. Why do I have the funny feeling that he was talking about me?

  A few seconds pass before he starts talking again, only now he's switched to German, so I can't understand a word of what he's saying. Yet I remain, my ear practically pressed against the door. After a few minutes, I hear the beep of his phone as he ends the call. I start to tiptoe away as quietly as I can.

  "Miss Kelly." I hear his voice call me from inside his office and I freeze, slowly releasing the breath I'd been holding.

  How the hell did he know it was me? Anyone could've been standing there eavesdropping.

  "I know you're there, Miss Kelly." His voice is dangerously low. And dangerously sexy. "Could you come into my office for a moment, please?"

  I slump forward with defeat, feeling like a child who's gotten caught stealing snacks from the pantry. I trod slowly back down the hallway until I reach his office.

  "Good morning," I say, opening the door and bursting through with as much cheerfulness as I can muster. I hold out the box containing the mug, a goofy smile plastered across my face. "Here. I got this for you. Because of the tea incident the other day."

  He looks at the mug and then at me.

  "You didn't have to do this," he says, taking the mug.

  "I, uh. I felt bad," I say, feeling my face redden. "For breaking yours and then burning you with hot tea. That one is shatterproof. And it has a lid."

  A smile threatens the corners of his mouth, but he chooses his usual frown instead. The man absolutely refuses to smile, but the almost-smile is enough to make me feel better.

  "You're a student," he says. "You shouldn't be spending your money on silly things like this."

  "It's okay," I say. "I like silly things like this."

  Dr. D sits down at his desk, his eyes not moving from my face.

  "Since you're here, I'd like to offer you some words of advice." He fixes me with a firm stare but doesn't give me a chance to respond before he proceeds. "This is something I wanted to speak with you about long before now, but I would suggest that you pay close attention to the company you are keeping." He presses his lips together. "You are heading down a perilous path and into territory you do not yet understand."

  My throat goes dry. "I-I… I'm sorry? What path? What territory?"

  He motions for me to close the door.

  "Your so-called friends may not be looking out for your best interests. Trust me on that."

  For a second, I wonder if he knows about the tea Colin has been giving me, because that's the only possible thing he could be referring to. But he would have to have been spying on me, and Dr. D does not seem like the kind of guy who could be bothered to spy on anyone.

  "I-I don't… Can you tell me what exactly you're talking about?"

  There is a soft tapping at the door. A muscle twitches in Dr. D's jaw and he lets out a sigh of frustration, obviously put out by this intrusion.

  "We will discuss it later. There is a lot you should know, Miss Kelly. Before it's too late." He turns toward the door. "Yes, what is it?" he demands.

  "I have a caller on hold for you," says a timid voice on the other side of the door.

  Lauren.

  "Now, Miss Kelly. It's nearly eight thirty, and you should be at work."

  "Right." I nearly knock a wooden tray full of papers off the corner of his desk as I turn toward the door. "Whoops." My hand jerks out to catch the tray just in time. "Yes. Work. I should… go."

  I'm not sure why I become so ridiculously uncomfortable every time I'm around him, and why Lauren can't just transfer the damned call, but this conversation and his words of warning have made it even worse. He's watching me. And I'm not exactly sure why he's watching me.

  "You'll find a few things on your desk. If you could make those a priority for me, that would be great."

  "Yes, of course," I say, hurrying toward the door.

  "And Miss Kelly." I turn back to face him, unconsciously holding my breath. "Thank you. For the mug."

  I nod, biting back a smile as the mood between us seems to lighten.

  "Hey, Lauren," I say with a casual wave, right as she lets out a howl that could wake the dead and launches herself at me.

  I am pinned to the ground. For a girl who is so petite, Lauren is ridiculously strong. Inhumanly strong. Her face morphs into something frightening as she raises a talon-like hand, ready to strike.

  "Lauren!" I shriek, squeezing my eyes shut in an attempt to ward off her attack. "I knew you are all into Comic-Con, but this is not the time or place to—"

  Dr. D is on her before I can even comprehend what is happening, and she is yowling in pain as he twists her head to one side, and then the other, hand fisted tightly in her hair. With a sound that can only be described as the tearing of flesh and sinew, he swiftly rips her head from her body. I look away, feeling overtaken with shock as I fall to the floor.

  "That stuff I should know? You might want to start talking to me about it pretty soon," I whisper, my voice sounding farther and farther away as my mind sinks into blackness.

  I hear voices arguing when I finally come to. I don't know what time it is or how long I've been out, but when I pull myself up into a seated position, I find that I am on the floor in Dr. D's office while Dr. D and Colin are standing in the corner of the room arguing. I'm not sure why I feel so normal after what I've just witnessed, or where this sudden clarity of mind is coming from, but I feel surprisingly calm and full of an energized focus I've never had before. Maybe this has something to do with the destiny my mother spoke of. I remain calm after witnessing murders. This is my destiny. That, or I'm about to go into a deep shock from which I may never recover. I decide to use my time as wisely as possible before that happens.

  "Hey, hey, guys." I cover my ears with my hands. "What in the hell is happening?"

  Both Dr. D and Colin rush to my side, each attempting to help me as I rise shakily to my feet. I wave them away. "I'm fine. Get away from me." I jerk myself away from Dr. D's advance and move toward Colin. "You killed her," I say to Dr. D in a low voice. "You killed Lauren. Now we have no quirky receptionist. And I've just witnessed a murder." I swing a clumsy fist in his direction, which of course does absolutely nothing. "Don't you know I've got enough crap going on in my head? I didn't need to witness a decapitation."

  My mind goes numb with shock as the image of Lauren's headless body floods back into my mind. Dr. D is a murderer. He can remove a person's head in the blink of an eye.

  "Christ, Miss Kelly. Are you really that obtuse? That wasn't Lauren." Dr. D rolls his eyes.

  "No," Colin says in agreement. "Lauren is up there doing her job, completely oblivious to what just happened. What you saw was Unseelie."

  Feeling my legs start to give out, I sink into one of the uncomfortable hard-backed chairs in front of Dr. D's desk.

  "Who is Unseelie?"

  Dr. D grumbles something unintelligible and covers his face with his hands as if I'm the dumbest person on the face of the earth. Colin glares at him.

  "She doesn't know," he snaps, jumping to my defense before turning to me. "Not a who, but a what, Sophe. Unseelie are from the Dark Fae court. The Winte
r Court, to be precise."

  "She doesn't need to know that," roars Dr. D as he lunges toward Colin. "It's for her own safety. Do not bring her into this world."

  Colin holds up one hand, which seems to stop Dr. D dead in his tracks. "Watch it, bloodsucker," he says through clenched teeth as Dr. D's body sags forward like a rag doll. He catches himself on the back of the chair as Colin seems to release whatever hold he had over him. "She's been a part of this world her entire life, just like her mother."

  "And look where that got her mother," Dr. D growls.

  "Whoa, how does everyone know about my mother? Is she that renowned?" I ask.

  "Well, obviously, she can't go on like this. Clueless and completely oblivious," Colin says, throwing his hands up in the air.

  This must've been what Dr. D had been trying to tell me earlier. This must be the path into dark and scary territory I don't yet understand. How does he know so much about it? Slumping forward, I rest my arms on the desk in front of me, still in shock over whatever grotesque feat of magic Colin just used against our musical director. And here I thought he was a hippie Druid, not a magic Druid.

  "I am in the room, you know. You can talk to me, even if I am clueless and oblivious. It's not my fault I'm clueless and oblivious. Talk to my mother about that." I rub my eyes as if trying to remove the images of Fae-Lauren's hideous features and her head being torn from her body that have implanted themselves into my brain. "And you, professor. Is this what you were just telling me to stay away from? Because I'm afraid it's too late for that." I rub my eyes again. "Am I even awake right now? Or is this some screwed-up dream because of that silly tea, Colin?"

  I rest my head atop my arms as if I'm in elementary school and we're taking a short break to rest our heads on our desks. The good-old days.

  "Tea?" bellows Dr. D. "What tea?"

  Colin ignores him while I mutter a few choice curse words and cover my ears. I really wish he'd just shut up.