by Cara Wylde
Klaus rolled his eyes and waved me off as he started toward his own class. Corri flew off his shoulder and right into the classroom to find my desk. I slammed my books next to where she’d sat her tiny butt, raising some of her pixie dust in the air.
“Introduction to Dream Traveling,” I mumbled, displeased. I would have loved this course if the circumstances had been different. I would have gone mad over it last year, when I discovered my dreams weren’t always just dreams, but glimpses into parallel dimensions. Not this year, though. Not now, not ever. Not anymore.
The professor was new, and… surprise, surprise! She was human. The first human professor Grim Reaper Academy had ever hired. Not many humans knew about the supernatural world, but there were some who’d been let in on the secret. Married to a Russian vampire, Camilla Ivanov was one of them. She was petite, with long brown hair and big, curious eyes. She had a small, shy voice that was barely audible, especially if you sat in the back of the class, like me and my guys, and she seemed more eager to learn things from us, the supernatural ones, than to teach us about dream traveling.
The Council had decided to introduce this class into our curriculum after I told them all about my gifts. My former gifts. Now, I couldn’t dream jump to save my life. The constant nightmares were all that was left of my previous abilities. I couldn’t lucid dream, which meant that every time I had a nightmare, I was trapped. I couldn’t become lucid inside it and change the course of events. I didn’t have out-of-body experiences anymore. I’d put my head down at night, and my mind would go in circles for a while, and then completely blank. The first night I slept without having the usual nightmares, I woke up after midnight, shaking with dread. I felt like I hadn’t slept at all. At least, with the nightmares, I had the certainty that something was still happening as my physical body rested and recharged. They were horrible and haunting, but they were something. The more I got used to being a revenant, the less nightmares I had, and I wouldn’t have admitted it for the world, but I feared the day when they would stop completely, the day when I’d get used to making blood sacrifices to stay young, strong, and alive, when all of this madness would turn to routine, and the nightmares would go away forever, leaving my slumber empty. When my sleep was devoid of any images – even bloody, horrific, painful images, – I’d wake up in the morning feeling useless and helpless, feeling like something had been taken away from me. Feeling like someone had been taken away from me. That someone was my mother, and that something was my unique ability to find my way to her.
So, yeah. Introduction to Dream Traveling. What a cruel joke. While I appreciated the Council deciding to add a new course on my account, I couldn’t ignore the fact that it was pretty useless in a school where most students couldn’t dream. Not many hybrids attended Grim Reaper Academy, and those who did, could rarely remember their dreams, anyway. Valentine Morningstar was an exception. Aside from him, no one could say they knew of any other hybrids who could travel consciously from one parallel universe to another while dreaming. So, what was the point? Professor Ivanov was just answering this exact question. If only she spoke more loudly… It was as if her throat chakra had been abused, or something. I unfocused my gaze until I could see her aura. Well, what do you know? Still killing it at aura reading. Around her throat, her light blue aura had tiny, red puncture wounds. Figures. She’s married to a vampire. He was probably still snacking off her blood, now and then. I wondered when he’d turn her into a vampire, so they could truly live happily ever after.
“She doesn’t want to,” Paz whispered in my general direction, leaning over his desk.
“You’re poking through my thoughts again,” I hissed.
“And hers, too.” He gave me a lopsided grin. Fuck it. I couldn’t resist him. “They’re trying for a baby, and vampires can’t breed. She has to be human to get pregnant.”
“Shh…” I couldn’t care less about Professor Ivanov’s personal life. “You wanna poke inside her head, be my guest. I wanna pay attention.”
“What? You’re suddenly a diligent student?”
“Gotta raise that worth score, and I figure it’s easier to do in a class where I’m the only one who’s actually done the practice.”
Speaking of practice…
“This will be our first and only course together,” Professor Ivanov was saying. “There will be no Advanced Dream Traveling, and no practice lessons. I’m sure you already know why. Sadly – and I personally believe this is such an immense loss, – supernaturals can’t dream. Consequently, they can’t dream travel and visit any of the parallel universes out there. Before we begin today, I feel like it’s important to remind you that you should never feel bad about this. Even though humans can dream, very few actually know what their dreams mean and what they can do with them. Most humans dream jump to other places involuntarily, and they never know they even did it. I know that many of you feel like this class is a waste of your time, but I promise you, it’s not. Not when the most feared Grim Reaper in the world is out there and has the ability to travel through parallel dimensions. At the very least, we should all try to understand what he’s doing and how he’s doing it, even if we can’t do it ourselves.”
“Can you do it?” I found myself asking.
Her big, brown eyes scanned the room. She smiled when she saw who I was. Blue eyes, blue hair, and a fuckton of tattoos. I was impossible to miss. I hadn’t felt like wearing my uniform blazer today, so the snake on my arm was in plain view. It was still hot outside, a lovely September day, and I wasn’t hiding anymore. I was who I was, and they would all have to get used to me. It wasn’t like I was the only one with tats in this school, but I was the only one who had so damn many. Neither of my boyfriends had gotten a tattoo yet. Not even a tiny one. Pretty fucking weird for a false god and a demon, at the very least. I could understand Sariel not wanting to ruin that perfect archangel skin of his, and Francis was just not the type.
“Y-yes,” she finally answered. “I can do it. But not as consciously and gracefully as you, Miss Morningstar.”
There was something bitter in my mouth. The curses I wanted to throw at her stupid face. Why would she say something like this? Didn’t she know… Shit. She doesn’t know. Of course she doesn’t. It was a well-kept secret. The Council had decided that shouting the truth from the rooftops would help no one. Headmaster Colin knew, and he’d been ordered to keep it to himself. For all the other professors, I was still human and still a pretty damn good dream jumper. They had to believe that I could travel to other universes, because Morningstar could, and someone simply had to be able to track him down, chase him from dream to dream, world to world, bring him to justice…
“Mila,” Francis nudged me discreetly.
I snapped out of it and forced a smile. “I’m sure I have a lot to learn from you.”
That made Camilla Ivanov blush. “I would love for you to help me teach this class. What do you say?”
I shrugged. “Sure. Whatever you need.” Easy worth points. Just think about easy worth points. Don’t think about how much this sucks… pretending you’re someone you’re not… But hadn’t I done this all my life? Pretended I was someone I was not?
“Alright, let’s dive right in.” Mrs. Ivanov broke eye contact and buried her nose in her papers. I was grateful. “Today, we’ll talk about three types of dreams, lucid dreaming, and the differences between them.”
I tuned out the world and tried to pay attention. Even if it hurt, even if it felt like I was studying a piece of my very own life that had become history too soon. By the end of the class, I was annoyed and cranky. Professor Ivanov awarded me 50 worth points, but I didn’t feel like celebrating. I just wanted to get out of there.
I walked to the next class, Psychology, with Paz, GC, and Francis in tow.
“Word gets around fast, doesn’t it?” It was a rhetorical question. “Dream jumping, parallel universes…”
“Don’t worry, goddess,” GC tried to reassur
e me. “They don’t know anything… the important stuff.”
“About my mother?”
“Absolutely not,” Paz said, and the certainty in his voice almost convinced me. “Everyone knows what the Council chose to make public: that dream traveling to parallel dimensions is a thing and Valentine Morningstar can do it. So can you, because you’re his daughter and you’re human. That’s it.”
“Would it have killed them if they made none of it public?” I said through gritted teeth.
“Not revealing any of it would’ve only made things worse.” As usual, Francis was the voice of reason. “Giving the supernatural world part of the truth, the part they deemed harmless, the Council made sure no one would think to dig deeper. It’s called being in control of the story.”
“My story.”
Silence. I’d turned into a bitch, hadn’t I? I was hard to argue with because, lately, I was letting my emotions get the best of me. I felt so scattered… My life – my very existence – had turned into a paradox. I was still the most popular girl in school, but I had no money, and my name inspired fear rather than respect. They hadn’t kicked me out of my luxurious room in the North Tower, and I sometimes wondered who was paying for it now. Did it come out of the school funds? Was the Council making sure that nothing changed, so as to keep the appearance that I was still relevant? That had to be it. Because I knew for a fact that I wasn’t relevant anymore. I was a nobody, just like I’d always been. If only I hadn’t believed the fantasy about how I was the One… I wouldn’t have felt so disappointed now.
We took our places at the back of the class. Headmaster Colin waited for the VDC students to settle down, then he proceeded to give us an overview of what we were going to study this semester.
“This is the first time in the history of the Academy when we have year four. You should have all graduated last summer, but alas… Things don’t always go as planned. There were humps in the road, obstacles we overcame because we chose to stick together and believe in the work we’re all doing here, even when the one who was supposed to guide us didn’t.” He was talking about the former headmaster, Morningstar. He was expertly avoiding his name. “This year, we will study what we weren’t allowed to study last year, but we will also dive deeper into the psychology of a Grim Reaper. This is something we’ve never done before at the Academy, and I see now that it was a mistake and an oversight on our part. We’re teaching you how to be good Reapers, how to do your jobs, reap the souls of the worthy and the unworthy, and save the souls that need saving, but we’re failing you. We’re failing you because for so long, we’ve focused on the beginning of your story as Grim Reapers, on act one, act two, but never act three. Never on the ending.”
I blinked. What was he trying to say? I stole a glance at GC, and he shrugged, just as confused.
“So, this year, after we cover what we didn’t get to cover last year, I will dedicate the second part of this semester, as well as semester two, to teaching you how to retire.”
Murmurs rose, whispers of curiosity and disbelief.
“As the new generation of Grim Reapers, you have to know how to step up, but once your two-hundred-year career reaches its natural conclusion, you also have to know how to step down gracefully.”
“So there wouldn’t be another Valentine Morningstar,” I found myself saying out loud without being invited.
Headmaster Colin furrowed his brows and nodded. Even now that I’d said his name, he didn’t feel comfortable repeating it.
“I can get on board with that,” GC yawned, stretched, and leaned back in his seat.
Paz shot him a theatrically angry look. “Proper decorum must be maintained at all times, Mr. Apis. That’s 20 worth points.”
The whole class burst into laughter. It took Mason Colin a couple of minutes to calm us down. He was a good man, a talented mage, and a wise headmaster, but his authority lacked in class. It was a good thing we all respected him out of principle, otherwise we would have eaten him alive. The Violent Death Cabal especially, but the Righteous Death Cabal could be just as vicious.
The class was boring, though, and I couldn’t focus. I excused myself halfway through it, and went to the restroom, then roamed about, my thoughts and emotions all over the place. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the Holy Chapel. I sighed and went in.
Once Headmaster Colin had been reinstated, the first thing he did was to get the Academy back to normal. Morningstar’s ridiculous rules were taken down from everywhere, and the scoreboards were moved back to the Holy Chapel and the Unholy Chapel. No curfew, no rule about dress and decorum, parties were allowed and encouraged, and we were free to spend as much time as we wanted in each other’s dorm-rooms. It was as if year three had never happened. It was as if Headmaster Morningstar had never happened. The Unseelie guards were paid and sent back to their pocket universe, their contracts canceled. After my father ordered Crassus to kill me and he did, I never saw him again. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, though. Crassus the Fay, the soldier who did what he was asked, no matter how horrible, as long as he was paid a fair price, because that was the way of the Unseelie. He’d lost his daughter for it. I wondered if he knew… I wondered if he thought she’d run away from home, fell in love with some Seelie prince, or was kidnapped. He couldn’t have known the truth. That my friends had sacrificed her to save my life. He would have come for me by now. Or maybe he knew and understood that was the price he’d had to pay? Fuck knows. No sane person can understand the Unseelie, I thought as I stepped up to the altar, my eyes searching Jesus’s face for an answer. He was silent, though, his gold lips sealed, so I turned my back to him and walked to the niche where candles were burning for the living and for the dead. I took a candle between my fingers and wondered who I should light it for, who needed my prayers.
“For your soul,” I whispered as I thought of Crassus’s daughter, a girl I’d never seen and never known even existed. “I’m sorry.” I waited a while, watching the candle burn, hot wax dripping into the water – a safety measure against fire. I should’ve moved on, gone to class, but there was someone else. I took another candle and lit it, this time thinking of the woman I’d pushed to her death the day before. Then I realized I was in the Holy Chapel and, for sure, she hadn’t gone to Heaven. Sex traffickers had a nice spot saved especially for them in Hell. I cursed under my breath, snuffed the candle out, and walked out of there.
I felt sick and agitated. I didn’t want to see anyone, so I went to my room and grabbed my scythe for the next class – PE. Mrs. Charon was having a great day. Finally, she could teach us how to teleport without the help of teleportation devices, but I was already way ahead of everyone and got bored in the first ten minutes. Paz, GC, and Francis knew how to teleport too, since Lorna and I had taught them in secret, and they were mostly making fun of the other VDC guys, disrupting the whole class. I couldn’t stand it, so I excused myself again, and with the risk of Professor Charon taking a bunch of my worth points, I skipped the rest of PE and went to the only place where I knew I could wallow in my own misery without being judged – the kitchens.
Patricia was a good listener. It helped that she was always busy and didn’t have to look me in the eye as I complained until I lost my breath. She was baking chocolate chips, and Corri flappity-flapped around her, stealing chocolate and munching on dough when the succubus wasn’t looking.
“Are you done?” she asked in her calm, mature voice that sometimes pissed me off so much. How could she be the same person that she was before… before all that shit happened, and I changed, and… I guess what actually pissed me off was that everyone was the same, when I wasn’t. When I couldn’t be. “Look, Mila, you’re alive. You were dead for three days, and now you’re alive and well. You were given a second chance. What are you going to do with it? Don’t tell me you’re planning on spending eternity feeling sorry for yourself. You’re not the only revenant out there. If they managed, you’ll manage.”
&nbs
p; I threw my hands in the air. “Patty, I’m killing people now! I’m making blood sacrifices to a monstrous creature with tentacles! I’m the bad guy, can’t you see? I’m the villain of the story.”
“Villain,” she chuckled. “If you want my honest opinion, I think the only change you’re going through now is that you used to be naïve, thinking everything was either black or white, good or bad, noble or horrendous, and you’re finally seeing the world as it is: gray.”
“Sacrificing people is not a gray area.”
She shrugged. “It is when they deserve to die, when the world is a better place without them. Paz can find you the right ones, the unredeemable ones.”
“No one is unredeemable. No matter what they did, they deserve a second chance.”
She wiped her hands on her apron and turned to me.
“Does your father deserve a second chance? He ordered your death, but by all means, go ask for an apology. He might say ‘sorry, my bad’, and then you can be a happy family again.”
I rolled my eyes at her.
“You’re a Violent Reaper. You get called to dark alleys, torture chambers, prisons, warzones… Do the perpetrators deserve a second chance? Is that how you feel when you reap the souls of their victims?”
I sighed, defeated. “No.”
“That’s what I thought. So, here’s an idea. Next time you go reaping, remember the face of the murderer. When your cosmic god gets hungry, you’ll know where to find a meal it’ll enjoy.”
“That thing is not my god.”
“That thing made you immortal, so I beg to differ.”
“You don’t get the god you want, you get the god you deserve,” I mumbled.
“We should meet,” she ignored my pathetic remark. “All of us. Down in the cavern, the Arcane Cabal…”
“The AC,” I laughed.
“Hah. The AC. We need a plan.”
“I’m tired of plans. They never work.”
