If you look at the scarred shifter with his shock of red hair, who was once a Confederacy army general, you’d never guess he had a soft spot.
“Please don't send me to Ravenhold,” I say with genuine meekness.
I’d call the place the equivalent of a human young offender’s institute, but the reality is harsher. Many who are sent there have no hope of rehabilitation and remain in the old building on a Scottish island for years.
Some disappear. Others go insane. Last I heard, the student body were ruled over by long-term residents: powerful hybrids who’ve banded together and keep the students under their control. Do the staff allow this? I wouldn’t be surprised, as it helps with their job of subduing the kids there.
If anybody sent me to Ravenhold, I’d fight tooth and nail to get out.
But nobody has ever succeeded in escaping.
“I’ll stop,” I plead. “I won't perform any magic I shouldn't.”
Theodora pulls out a chair and sits. “How many times have I heard those words from you, Matt?”
“I mean it this time. I understand how close you are to sending me to Ravenhold.” The words are finally spoken. The place the supernatural world would like to pretend doesn't exist.
Last time we had this conversation, Sofia argued that Ravenhold would corrupt or kill me, and her passionate defence warmed me to her. How could Theodora think of sending me to the place. Is she under pressure from someone?
Theodora runs her tongue along her red-painted bottom lip and looks down at the paper in front of her. The form is my death sentence if she signs. The old, wooden clock on the wall behind ticks through the silence, and I pray this isn't counting down the seconds to the moment my life changes.
“Take away Matt’s free time,” suggest Sofia softly. “Place him somewhere he’ll be under a watchful eye every moment he isn't studying or sleeping.”
“We’ve no detention class that allows such supervision,” says Theodora with a frown.
I tense but keep my worry out of my expression. Keeping me under their watchful eye is their only choice—the faculty can forget putting a tracking spell on me; I can bypass that with a click of my fingers.
“No, but there’s something happening in the school that leaves the participants exhausted and short of free time.” Sofia smiles at me. “The school musical performance is underway. I’m watching over and directing. I can ensure no untoward magic is used.”
Who’s more stunned by her suggestion, Theodora or me? I couldn't think of a worse way to spend my time.
Apart from incarceration on an island for an unforeseeable future.
I brighten. “Yes. One more chance. I promise you won't regret the decision. Uh… but I can’t sing.”
My words break the tension and Theodora smiles. “That’s not a problem. Do you need backstage help, Sofia?”
She nods. “We have a set to construct and plenty of backstage work.”
I keep my false smile even though I’m watching my free time disappear. I’m facing time with a group of dumb students who like to waste time on human activities rather than learn their place in the supernatural world.
Theodora places her pen down. “Don't make me regret this, Matt.”
My shoulders sink and whole body relaxes. Another chance.
“And don't make me regret this,” adds Sofia. “I’m putting myself on the line for you here.”
CHAPTER THREE
AMELIA
The auditions for this year’s school musical take place early evening, in the performance hall, before classes begin. This way, vampires can take part. The hall is situated in the centre of the main school building with its own entrance up a flight of stone steps, allowing audiences to attend without walking through the centre of the academy.
This was once a large dining hall, when the academy was an asylum in Victorian times, but has since been furnished with rows of seats and a stage. Several theatrical families sponsor the plays and musical, as well as music recitals, whereas others grumble about how frivolous this is for an institution teaching their children how to become leaders.
They sit now, Katherine and her group of hangers-on, chatting and whispering about the people around. The self-appointed school queen commands respect partly due to her family status, and partly because she’s skilled at using her looks and natural lamia charm to draw people to her. Katherine’s careful to choose friends in all three houses--Gilgamesh shifters, Walcott witches, and Petrescu vampires--and has her eyes set on a high-ranking shifter or witch.
Currently, that’s Clive or Matt. Last term she pursued an unimpressed Ash. She backed off the day Ash discovered Katherine threatened me, and Ash told Katherine exactly what he thought of her. Unfortunately, this backfired as Katherine became convinced me and Ash were an item. A couple of days later, Jamie came across her threatening me again. That led to further complications when Jamie told her I wasn’t with Ash because I was in a relationship with him.
I would’ve denied this, but at the time Katherine had cornered me and threatened to set her shifter minions on me. Since then, she’s never let up. Katherine deliberately sabotages my spells in class by distracting me and watches me like a hawk. Ash caught wind of what happened and told her to stay away from the three of us. The only person she’s nice to now is Matt. Katherine’s smart and knows who would make an unwise enemy.
I’m positive she now has her sights set on him as a potential lover.
Until she turned on me, I’d felt sorry for Katherine. Yes, she has perfect everything from sleek blonde hair and expensive clothes, down to her to-die-for figure and social standing, but underneath everything I sense an unhappiness. Aren’t bullies always bullied themselves, somewhere along the line?
My sister, Genevieve, once dated Ash, in secret. She’s in her final year, a year above me, and we couldn't be more opposite. In looks she’s a dark-haired Katherine, but in personality she’s more like me. I’m short to her tall, and hate how I look with long hair, preferring to keep my straight dark hair in a bob style.
Final-year students attend exchange programs with other Nightworld academies in order to foster relations between the different communities. She’s in the States currently, and I miss her terribly.
On my bad days at the academy she’d lend me a helping hand, and we’d often sit and watch old '80s movies. We know every one word for word from watching them over and over as kids. We rewind to those days and switch off from all things Nightworld academy.
Genevieve is due home in a couple of months and I’m counting down the days
I sit on the edge of the stage and count through the number of people who are here to audition. Suzie, a girl from my house, chews on a pen as she scans the sign-up sheet. “Some of these people are overconfident. Tamara tried out for Cats last year and she certainly had the wail.”
I nudge Suzie. “Shh. That’s mean.”
“Oh, I don't mean to be. I'd rather some new students auditioned this year, because with this choice of people, I’m worried about the show.”
Katherine put her name down to audition for the lead, of course. Mine is written beneath hers to apply for a backstage position. Last year, my sister worked in costume and taught me makeup techniques which I loved. I don’t like being centre of attention, so there’s no chance of a public performance for me