by Sarina Dorie
The groundskeeper used a spell to pick up the wheelbarrow and piled the mountain of dirt back inside. “Sorry about that. I’m Orsolya Zoltran, assistant groundskeeper.”
Vega eyed the dirt and grass stains on the groundskeeper’s denim overalls. “I’d guessed as much.”
“You look familiar. Have you been here before?” Orsolya asked. “Are you someone’s parent?”
Vega stared, aghast. At twenty-two, she was far too young to look like someone’s mother. “I graduated from this school a few years back. I had a job interview here today.”
“I thought you looked familiar! You graduated in 1999?”
Vega was about to correct her. Orsolya was one year off. Surely she didn’t think Vega was only twenty-one and applying for a job.
The groundskeeper lowered her husky voice. “Were you here that year the girl got chopped in half in a portal accident?”
A chill ran down Vega’s spine. Surely Orsolya was taunting her. Did she know that had been Vega’s friend?
“Do you remember the dead girl’s friend who went psycho at the funeral?” Orsolya asked. “She started screaming at her peers and accidentally used forbidden magic that she exploded on the teachers.” Orsolya chuckled. “That was my first week at the school!”
Warmth drained from Vega’s face. The forbidden magic hadn’t been an accident. Vega had done so on purpose. This was one of the reasons the principal hated her.
“I should be going,” Vega said.
“Watch out for the gnome holes!” Orsolya shouted after her.
Vega strode along the path toward the front entrance, ready to get the bad news about the flyer-education position out of the way. She needed to start plan B of her summer schedule so she had someplace to move her belongings before Monday. If she didn’t, she would be forced to go home and be her mother’s prisoner, forced to endure her parents’ commentary on her decision to work like the lower classes.
Vega was so intent on her mission, she didn’t see the woman wiping her shoes on the grass until she spoke.
“Ms. Gordmayer?” a woman in gray robes asked Vega.
The principal wasn’t in sight. Vega eyed the excrement-smeared center of what had been a white rose before the woman had stepped in it.
“It’s Mrs. Gordmayer,” Vega corrected, about to explain the principal preferred the married honorific.
The woman rushed on. “I apologize for my tardiness. I had another appointment this morning and couldn’t get here an hour ago as I’d planned.”
Vega’s eyes went wide, realizing this must be the principal’s other candidate for the flyer-ed program. This was Vega’s rival. She studied her opponent, from her pinched-up face to her flowy gray robes. She was petite and willowy. Vega wondered how well she could fly on a broom.
“Do you want to meet inside to discuss details?” The woman smiled, careful to avoid more land mines as she stepped forward. “Can you tell me more about the job?”
This was Vega’s chance to do the right thing, be considerate of others, and show this stranger where the principal’s office was located. It might even earn her brownie points with the principal to show how much she had matured since she’d been in high school.
Or Vega could do the thing that was right for herself—and ensure she got the job. Hope bloomed in Vega as she thought of that.
Vega continued up the steps. “Actually, the position has been filled.”
The woman’s brows furrowed. “The agency told me it was an emergency, that you needed someone here right away.”
“We did, but someone got here sooner.” Vega strategically placed herself between the door and the woman so that she wouldn’t be able to get inside if she climbed up the steps.
The stranger shook her head. “I came here on my day off because you said you needed someone. And this is the thanks I get? What is wrong with you?”
“The early bird catches the worm.” Vega stared down at her. “Tardiness won’t be tolerated. Good day.”
The woman stomped off.
Vega strolled back into the school, feeling triumphant. The principal would be forced to hire her after she saw she had no other candidates. She attempted to keep the grin off her face when she reported to Mr. Gordmayer’s desk.
He had changed into a Hawaiian shirt and a pair of oversized sunglasses. He waved to her. “Wow! Nice shoes. I can’t believe I missed them before. My wife once had a pair like those back when we first got married.”
Was that why the principal had been staring earlier. A case of déjà vu? Or déjà shoe?
He rushed on before she could fully process how much they had in common. “By the way, congratulations! You got the job!”
“I did?” Vega asked. “But I thought Mrs. Gordmayer had others to interview.” Perhaps the principal had decided to give up on the other interviewee because she’d been so tardy.
“Allegra’s bark is worse than her bite.” The secretary’s tone was a conspiratorial whisper. “She only said that about other interviews to be persnickety. You’re our only candidate.”
Vega blinked. That couldn’t be right. The principal had said she’d had another appointment.
The woman outside had said she’d had an appointment with the principal.
A sinking feeling settled in Vega’s gut. “What are the principal’s other appointments today?”
“Just someone from GRS—Gnome Relocation Services. They should be here any minute.” Mr. Gordmayer took off his sunglasses. “As soon as we get rid of the gnomes, we get to go to Hawaii. It’s our fiftieth wedding anniversary, and this is going to be the best vacation ever!”
Vega’s heart dropped to her stomach. She had spectacularly messed up. On the plus side, she’d gotten the job.
CHAPTER TWO
The Past: Ghouls Just Wanna Have Fun
Vega had had no idea during her junior year in high school, during her friend’s funeral, that her crazed freak-out of epic proportions would be remembered for years to come.
The rage in Vega had built as she listened to catty snobs give speeches about how kind and generous Ruth had been in life—the same girls who taunted Ruth and called her a bimbo because they’d been jealous of her siren beauty. Instead of using her eulogy as a way to say goodbye to Ruth, Vega had used the opportunity to publicly berate Ruth’s bullies. After the principal had tried to restrain and silence Vega, her explosion of forbidden magic had injured dozens of people.
Vega would have done far worse to all those hypocrites if the principal hadn’t used a sleep spell on her.
After waking up in the hospital wing, Vega had snuck out to the graveyard, and danced all night in front of Ruth’s grave. She had mourned her loss, expressing her grief and love in song and movement. She used dance to express emotions she couldn’t utter out loud. It had been a cathartic experience.
The following morning when the principal found Vega asleep in the bed of her dorm room instead of the infirmary, Mrs. Gordmayer’s voice turned to steel. “Students at my school do not stay out all night partying.”
Vega hadn’t been partying. She’d been expressing a eulogy.
She looked up from her pillow to the sight of a horrible troll standing over her. Or rather, the principal.
“Up right now, young lady,” Mrs. Gordmayer said too loudly for the confines of the small dorm room. “You have five minutes to get yourself to my office.”
Vega suspected unburdening the sorrow in her soul through dancing and revelry hadn’t been enough to help her face the principal’s inquisition. With just five minutes to get ready, Vega had enough time to use the restroom and wash her face, but not change out of the attire she’d worn to the funeral the day before and slept in.
Bleary eyed at eight in the morning, Vega blinked at the blinding sunlight pouring in through the giant windows in the principal’s office.
The two chairs on either side of Vega were filled by school staff. Vega had a feeling they wer
e there to guard her and ensure she wasn’t about to explode with magic as she had the night before. Though, as far as guard dogs went, Ms. Stapleton, her teacher of transportation magic, and Nurse Margoyles were pretty lame.
Ms. Stapleton was young and new at the school that year. Vega might have forgiven her for garish makeup or for having an unattractive haircut that didn’t flatter her round face if she hadn’t tried to pretend to be cool and friends with all the students. The school nurse was nice, but not formidable enough to scare Vega.
Not like Mrs. Gordmayer.
Vega felt grimy and wondered when she was going to be able to put on fresh clothes. She had used a spell to remove the grave dirt off herself the night before, but she hated wearing day-old clothes.
Principal Gordmayer eyed her over her purple horn-rimmed glasses. “First things first. Why do you believe Ruth was ten years old?”
Vega yawned. “She told me.”
“I advise you to take this seriously.” The principal’s eyes narrowed. “You knew Ruth was underage. Why did you fail to report this to staff?”
That had been one of the truth bombs Vega had dropped at the funeral. Ruth might have looked like a curvy, siren sex goddess, but she was far younger. Their peers had been cruel to Ruth, a ten-year-old—a child.
Vega crossed her arms. “You mean, why didn’t I inform you so you could kick her out?”
Mrs. Gordmayer gripped the edge of her desk. “Do you truly think so little of every adult around you that you believe we would turn a child out in the cold? We would have found a suitable home for Ruth until she came of a proper age to attend school.”
Vega snorted. She had seen the way adults had helped teenagers. The foster system was no place for an out-of-control siren.
Vega had seen what Ruth had inadvertently done to her male teachers. Ruth had needed teachers and friends to help her keep her magic from influencing others, and it still hadn’t been enough. Ruth was fortunate she’d stayed innocent for as long as she had in the wild with what Vega assumed to be feral hobs and forest brùnaidh to help her.
“I’m just a student,” Vega said. “I wasn’t the only one who knew. A recruiter brought her here.” Duh.
Principal Gordmayer folded her weathered hands before her on her desk. “What was the name of the recruiter that brought her?”
“She didn’t mention it.” And Vega wouldn’t have told the principal if she’d known anyway.
The principal rang a bell on her desk. Mr. Gordmayer opened the door, his eyebrows lifted in question.
“See if the recruiter who brought Ruth in was Felix Thatch, would you, dear?”
“I already looked this morning.” He frowned. “There’s no record of who brought her or filled out the papers to apply for her as a charity student.”
“Surely you lost those papers. There’s bound to be a record in payroll.”
Like magic, those papers had disappeared. Vega didn’t know whether Mr. Gordmayer was undermining his wife or it had been the recruiter who had worked to ensure there was no paper trail. Someone was smart enough not to get caught bringing a ten-year-old to a high school. Even if an all-girls school had been the best option for Ruth.
Mr. Gordmayer looked at Vega. “Ms. Bloodmire, would you like me to bring you a cookie? You missed breakfast and—”
“No, she does not want a cookie,” the principal said firmly. She shooed him away.
Vega felt bad for Mr. Gordmayer. He was always trying to be nice, even if he was clueless.
“Is that all?” Vega glanced at the two silent staff members sitting on each side of her.
“Not even close.” The principal pursed her lips. “That information you withheld cost your friend her life. Had we known she was a child, we would never have put her in a class for advanced magic in the first place.”
Vega clenched and unclenched her fists. She noticed the way the school nurse watched her.
“I was helping Ruth.” Vega forced herself to speak calmly. “I was protecting her. If it hadn’t been for Malisha Bane, Ruth wouldn’t have tried to step through that portal. But Malisha taunted her with a portal that showed her a boy she liked. She threw a jinx in my magic so I couldn’t protect Ruth.”
The principal stood. “Enough with this childish feud between you and Malisha Bane. It is unbecoming of a student at this school to continue in this way and blame everything on a rival. Had your parents been available to attend this meeting, I am certain they would also tell you that your behavior is unacceptable for a young lady of your station. This incident had nothing to do with Malisha. We are here to discuss you.”
Voices came from outside the door, two adult men. One was probably Mr. Gordmayer. The other man didn’t possess the haughty tone of the upper class, so this was unlikely to be her father.
The door swung open. Mr. Reade stood there. Pink lines where gashes had peppered his skin dotted his face. It wasn’t the angry red of fresh wounds, but the state of skin that looked like it had had a week to heal. This was common after magic had been applied to heal wounds. The bruise on his forehead was almost healed as well.
Guilt clawed at Vega’s insides. She had caused his injuries with her magic when she’d exploded Mrs. Gordmayer’s silencing and confinement spell with a tiny spell using pain magic. She hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone with forbidden magic, especially not him.
Mr. Reade’s lips twitched up into a strained smile. “Excuse me for intruding, but our handbook states that a student can have a teacher accompany her to disciplinary meetings.”
Vega covered her face, mortified that Mr. Reade had decided to attend this meeting. Something in her hair poked her hand. It was a leaf from the previous night’s revelry in the forest. She tore it out.
Why did her favorite teacher have to witness her shame, chastisement, and now, her moment of unfashionableness?
Principal Gordmayer shook her head. “That rule applies to the dean, who is male, or meetings with male staff members, for the sake of propriety.”
Mr. Reade continued to smile. “According to Section 24 A of our handbook, when a parent or guardian isn’t available during a disciplinary meeting, a parent or student is allowed to choose a teacher in her parents’ stead. It happens I have been appointed.”
Vega doubted that.
The principal sighed. “Mr. Reade, we both know you’re the last person the Bloodmire family would select on their daughter’s behalf.”
Vega sat up taller. She didn’t appreciate that snide way the principal spoke to Mr. Reade. It was true that her parents would have chosen someone less . . . working class, but that didn’t mean Vega would have snubbed Mr. Reade. If he was implying he thought she needed him there to serve as some sort of legal guardian, she suspected she shouldn’t refuse.
“Were my parents supposed to be here this morning?” Vega asked.
The principal waved a hand airily. “They couldn’t make it.”
No surprise there. When had they ever arrived anywhere on time, much less at all when it came to a school “function” on her behalf?
“Mr. Reade is correct,” Vega said. “I asked him a long time ago to serve as my representative if my parents weren’t able to make it to a school event. He is following my family’s request.”
“Very well,” Mrs. Gordmayer said through clenched teeth. “Just be aware, at the beginning of the year, your parents gave me free rein to discipline you as I see fit. Your ability to fit in with other young ladies of your station is of their utmost concern. I intend to follow that imperative.”
The secretary brought in a chair for Mr. Reade. The foreign language teacher wedged it between Vega and Ms. Stapleton.
“Where were we?” Mrs. Gordmayer asked.
Vega knew Mrs. Gordmayer wasn’t on her side, but Mr. Reade was. He would understand when she explained. “I was just saying that Malisha Bane purposely sabotaged my magic and lured Ruth into that portal because Malisha completely lacks a soul.”
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The principal sighed in exasperation.
“Might I suggest that Miss Bloodmire and Miss Bane not be placed in the same classes next semester?” Mr. Reade asked. “It only leads to antagonism on both sides.”
The principal jotted down a note on a memo pad. “Vega Bloodmire, if we decide to keep you as a student, you will have after-school detentions and Saturday detentions for attacking your peer and sexually harassing her.”
Vega’s face scrunched up in disgust, so thrown off by the accusation, she didn’t fully catch the principal’s meaning. “I didn’t sexually harass Malisha.”
Even Mr. Reade looked confused.
Ms. Stapleton explained, “Malisha—Ms. Bane—said Miss Bloodmire groped her. I saw it. After Vega—Miss Bloodmire slapped Malisha, she touched her breasts.”
“No, I didn’t.” Vega looked at Mr. Reade. He’d been right there.
He shook his head at Ms. Stapleton. “You were across the room. I don’t think you saw what I did.” He looked at Vega. “She’s talking about you wiping your friend’s blood on Malisha’s shirt, which was a childish thing to do, but I hardly think that counts as sexual harassment.”
“Eww. She doesn’t even have anything worth groping.” Malisha was petite and slender. If Vega’s bra size was an A cup, she could at least be thankful she wasn’t microscopic like her enemy.
“While assigning detentions and in-house suspensions, can we keep these two young ladies in separate rooms?” Mr. Reade asked.
Vega knew it was wicked to feel glee at anything, especially with Ruth’s death so recent, but the idea of Malisha also getting detention filled her heart with satisfaction.
“It might be premature to discuss punishment just yet.” Mrs. Gordmayer’s steely gaze fixed on Vega.
Those words should have been a relief, but the principal’s tone suggested Vega should feel anything but relief.
“In any case, we don’t have two separate detention rooms.” Principal Gordmayer’s lips curled upward with slyness. “I hope you don’t mind hosting one of them after school each day. And on Saturdays.”
