Strange Academy (Hot Paranormal Romance) Page 10

  “It’s okay for us to be talking,” he told her. “This is official business.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be okay? We talk all the time.”

  “Gray House rules. We don’t associate with Nons, except when absolutely necessary.” There was something chilly in his tone as he said “associate,” and even colder when he said “Nons.” “I break the rules every time I talk to you.”

  A nauseous feeling bubbled in her stomach. Only hours ago, a scathing reply would have burst from her. Now, she had nothing to say. Puzzle pieces clicked together. Gray was some kind of—what was the word again—Meta nobility. How could she argue she was his equal when he had superpowers?

  Had she really imagined a guy with a chest like that was a schoolteacher? Yeah, just like Clark Kent was a reporter. And the confident way he walked, like he could stand up against anything the universe could throw at him. His steps didn’t make any of the noise hers did, crunching against the sand and salt mixture spread on the path to melt the ice.

  So she just walked beside him on the path, following his lead off the main campus, past the parking lot. Until she realized they were headed into the snowy woods.

  Panic wove around her heart as the trees enclosed them, above the path, but curiosity kept her going. The leafless branches reached up like skeletal fingers. Sadie shivered. She wasn’t sure she was ready to be alone with him. And she wasn’t sure she had any choice. If she was getting the magical version of cement shoes, there was no escape.

  “Aunt Pippa associated with Nons.”

  “It’s a Gray House rule, not a Meta rule. She was from Strange House.” He looked over one broad shoulder as he held a wet tree out of the way for her to pass. “Or what’s left of it after your ancestors made bad alliances, thinning the blood.”

  The path inclined steeply. She didn’t say anything as she followed him up the hill.

  “You’re quiet,” he said, after a while.

  “I’m trying to figure out what you mean. ‘Bad alliances.’ Marriages? Children?”

  He may have nodded. It was hard to tell from watching his back as she struggled up the steep path. “Strange House was one of the twelve Great Houses, once. Quinlan Strange founded this place.” He swept an arm in the direction of campus. “Your family bred the magic right out of themselves.” Suddenly, he whirled on her, the path’s slant giving him an extra few inches over his already-looming height. “You could have been like your aunt, protecting people instead of needing protection, if your father had married a witch and carried on the Strange name. Instead, you read comic books and think men in tights are heroes.”

  She wanted to call him on his racism—or whatever “ism” it was—but his superpowers made it kind of hard to claim equality.

  “Strange is my mother’s name,” she informed him. “Where are you taking me? Will you execute me to keep your big secret?”

  “To protect these kids, I’d execute you in a second.” His voice chilled her more than the cutting wind. “But it’s not up to me. The rules have changed. When I was a student, even Nons whose kids went here weren’t allowed on campus.”

  As suddenly as he’d turned, he started off again. Sadie wasn’t sure whether she was reassured by his speech or not. I’d execute you, but it’s not up to me sounded okay. Sort of.

  “You’re not a chemistry teacher,” she said to his back, wishing her high heels were an inch shorter as they climbed.

  “I’m a demon hunter.” Before she could absorb that info, he went on. “But Sterling needs me right now, so I’m teaching alchemy until the end of the school year.”

  His nephew needed him, so he dropped everything to be there. Some people might do it for their own kids, but for someone else’s?

  She would do it for Moira, her own niece. No question.

  Whaa! She felt as thought the ground had careened from under her feet. One of her shoes went flying. Her arms windmilled, desperately seeking some sort of balance. In a frozen instant, she pictured herself tumbling Jack-and-Jill style down the steep hill.

  Then an iron arm vised around her. Completely unbalanced, she was bent fully backward, her spine parallel to the ground.

  And inches away from her face was Gray’s face. His aristocratic nose. Gray eyes smoky with thunderstorm intensity. And, best of all, his full lips. The tiny part of her brain—very tiny—unaffected by the heat of his big body and the safety promised by his cinnamon scent realized they were comically frozen in that painful-looking pose that appeared on the cover of many a romance novel. Neither one of them made any attempt to move.

  “Stone. Under shoe,” she explained, with a dry mouth.

  Their stomachs touched. The layers of clothing separating them didn’t matter. Her skin turned goosebumpy.

  Gray blinked. And it was over. His whole body went taut, his discomfort dissipating whatever crazed magic rode the air between them.

  She reddened in humiliation. Worse, her awkward position forced her to keep clinging to him.

  “My shoe.” Her voice cracked. “It’s over there.”

  She only meant for him to grab it, but instead of bringing the shoe to her, he took her to it. He slipped his free arm under her knees and lifted. A second later, he let her down in an ideal position to slip her foot into the shoe.

  “You need boots,” he said.

  “I didn’t expect an uphill hike today.” Actually, every day was an uphill hike at Strange Academy. “There have been a lot of things I didn’t expect today.” Including that moment back there.

  Then she saw it. Ten meters behind him, in a little clearing at the end of the path, was a stone monolith straight from Stonehenge. Or the first five minutes of 2001: A Space Odyssey.

  Dwarfing both herself and Gray, it didn’t belong on the Strange Academy grounds. It was ancient. No, older. What was older than ancient? Primeval. Primordial.

  She stepped toward it, vaguely aware that Gray watched and followed her. This was more than just a stone, she knew as she approached it. This was something sacred.

  When it was at arm’s length, she raised her hand. And then drew back, suddenly feeling more like an intruder here than ever.

  From behind, Gray took her right hand and put it on the monolith. As her flesh touched stone, her ears pressurized. The stone’s warmth surprised her.

  She looked up. The sun was high in a blue sky, pouring down summer heat. At her feet, a cricket chirruped in the ankle-high grass. She looked at Gray. His face was obscured in blue shadows from a deepening late-fall twilight.

  “It’s summer in here. Am...does this mean I’m—”

  Gray cut her off. “You don’t have to be a Meta to experience it. It means nothing.”

  “I have no words for this.” She swallowed to clear the pressure from her ears and stepped out from the circle of summer surrounding the monolith. “My ears popped. Is there magic in this stone?”

  He looked down his Roman nose at her.

  “Uh, right, dumb question. My ears have been popping since I came here.” She touched the stone and they popped again. “I think it happens around magic.”

  “A latent genetic anomaly.” He shrugged. “Pretty useless.”

  Sadie took her hand from the stone, shivering as she was thrust into the December cold. “Why did you bring me here?”

  “There are twelve of these stones. First line of defense against the dark forces. Strange Academy is built on a place of magical power. The earth hums with it here. If we didn’t have the magic circle, this place would be crawling with demons, ripping tears in the reality between their world and ours, manifesting themselves as ten-foot nightmares and consuming any soul they could get their claws on.”

  “A couple of hours ago, I would have thought you were describing an episode of Supernatural.” A couple of hours ago, the scariest thing in her life had been the man standing next to her.

  “I’m trying to make you understand what’s at stake here. It isn’t just Metanormal lives. It’s Non lives, too,” he said
. “It’s the world.”

  “Is this why you don’t like comic books?”

  “Sadie.” She swore that his teeth were grinding. “Don’t you understand that they make fun of us, treat us like we’re not real people? They take the real issues that we have to deal with and make them into fun adventures for hormonal teen boys.” He shook his head. “If only you knew the real story behind your superheroes.”

  She sensed it was no time to tell him he clearly hadn’t read one for a while, that comics and graphic novels had come into the mainstream, with more realistic stories. That was mostly because they no longer had to submit to the draconian Comics Code, essentially censoring themselves. The Code had actually legislated happy endings; “in every instance good shall triumph over evil and the criminal punished for his misdeeds.”

  But there were things more important than winning an argument. Such as learning the truth. “Did Pippa teach English?”

  “Pippa taught a lot of things. You can’t fill her shoes.” And he looked down his Roman nose at her again.

  The hell of it was that the “demon hunter” thing made him more attractive. Superhero, screamed every hormone in her body.

  Gray continued. “If a teacher screws up, it isn’t just a college application at stake. Can you even imagine—” He broke off. “Never mind.”

  “I know what happens when a superhero makes a mistake. I’ve studied it.” She barely recognized her own voice. It was as chilly as Gray’s. “At best, people get hurt. At worst, they go to the Dark Side.”

  “For once, your pop culture reference is dead on. If we overlook a kid in pain, he might take the pain out on others.” Gray laughed coldly. “Put your hand on the stone again.”

  She nodded, for once not having the words. It made sense. If there were superheroes, then there had to be super villains. Just because someone had special powers, that didn’t make them perfect. Everyone made mistakes. She’d made some big ones herself. If she had powers, would she always be able to control them, no matter how angry she got? Probably not, she had to admit.

  Before she could process the fact that she was taking an order from a man, her hand was on the monolith. “You’re touching someone’s soul,” he said. “Six witches. Six wizards. They made the circle using their souls, Sadie. Not their lives. Their immortal souls.”

  She pulled her hand away, not knowing how she felt about the enormous sacrifice. Was it heroic? Or horrific?

  Gray grabbed her wrists and pulled her toward him until they were nearly chest to chest. The gray of his eyes replaced the gray of the monolith. “You don’t belong here.”

  “Pippa wanted me here. Why did Pippa want me here?”

  “Pippa was wrong. You need to leave.”

  She pulled away. She hung her head. Pippa was a witch. She could have foretold her own death. The letter had made the accident look mysterious. Without the letter, Sadie’s theory that her aunt was murdered fell apart.

  He’s right, chimed a voice in her brain. You need to go back to your safe, normal world where you can fit in and forget about this place.

  But there was another voice in her head. Aunt Pippa’s voice, promising magic and stories. She’d shut it out for so long, building walls to keep the wonder away.

  “No.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t know why Pippa wanted me here, but I have to trust in her. I didn’t do it while she was alive. I have to do it now.”

  *

  ***

  ******

  ****

  *

  “Good afternoon.” What the hell? Sadie wondered. A disembodied male voice thundered through the air. Sadie, pausing in the act of writing the lesson on the chalkboard, looked up and twirled around, half-expecting to see the principal’s head floating in a puff of smoke. The fifth graders seemed to find this miracle funny.

  Christian’s voice continued, sending shivers through her stomach. “Since Miss Strange has become aware of the true nature of Strange Academy, morning and evening announcements will resume as usual.”

  Announcements? Sadie noticed, for the first time, a loudspeaker mounted in the corner of the room. Not magic. P.A. system. She felt herself blush.

  “All students and staff members who were required to use a glamour to alter their appearance may now remove it. We should all welcome Miss Strange and answer any questions she has.”

  The girl sitting in front of Nikkos, a thin, freckled child with the Shakespearian name of Portia, put her hand over her eye. Sadie was about to ask her if she was all right when she removed the hand, revealing a pale gold light in the corner of her eye. Sadie held back a gasp.

  Christian’s voice continued. “The Senior Coven invites the Prep Coven to this week’s meeting. Familiars are welcome, so take your allergy medication if required.”

  When the announcements were over, she looked at the faces in front of her. She didn’t know these kids at all. Most of the class smirked at her, enjoying the joke of putting one over on an adult. Except Carmina, who was poised on the edge of her seat, looking like she expected gold coins to fall out of Sadie’s mouth. Behind her, Sterling wore a mask of disinterest.

  She swallowed her sigh. She looked at the lesson written on the board. Grammar was really important—for people who would end up spending their lives behind a computer. What did she have to teach paranormal kids?

  “Okay, class, we’re going to do something different today.” She pulled up the stool she’d lifted from one of the science rooms until her new chair arrived. The smell of smoke still hung around her desk. “I’d like each of you to tell me about yourself. I’d like to know what your power is.”

  “They’re not called powers,” Lee Sun said, from his desk in the front row. “They’re called ‘Talents.’”

  “Okay, I’ll start,” she told them. “My Talent is knowing a lot about words and stories.”

  “You only know about comic books.” Something about ginger-haired Henry’s British accent and imperious air seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place it. “Not real books.” Boy, information spread around here.

  “What do Metas have against comic books?” she asked.

  “They make fun of us.” Sterling answered without raising his hand. “Everyone thinks so.”

  A couple of the kids then participated in telling her the shocking story of the first superhero being based on a real Meta. As she listened, the bottom sucked out of her stomach, leaving a black hole. The kids didn’t completely understand the effect being transformed into a cartoon had had on his life, but she could hear hints of it behind the story. He’d been a popular man. A leader. On seeing himself portrayed as an alien outsider, he had given up his role as protector and simply disappeared.

  Well, that explained a few things. Gray’s reference to the real story behind superheroes, for one. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. As much as her first instinct was to defend her beloved comics, this might not be the right venue for that. “I studied ‘real’ books, too. But I think comic books are special. They remind me of old Greek and Roman stories about the gods.”

  “That’s not a Talent,” Henry said. “It doesn’t make you special.”

  “Sure, it does. I’ve got the student loans to prove it.” She didn’t bother explaining the difference between a comic book like The Amazing X-Men and a graphic novel like Maus. “Besides, comic books are cool. Now it’s your turn. Hans, please start.”

  After learning Hans and Lee were psionisists, Mackenzie could throw a ten-pound weight half a mile, and Anita’s evil eye could hospitalize you for a week, Sadie asked Carmina to speak.

  “I have no Talent,” she said, in her Slavic accent.

  “What about your father?”

  “She only gets to come here because she knows about us Metas.” Sterling turned up his Roman nose. “He’s not her real father. Uncle Gray says they can’t have children.”

  “Being adopted is the same.” The anger in Henry’s voice could have blistered the paint off the walls.

 
; “Hey.” Sadie realized Sterling’s insult must have hit Henry personally. He must be adopted himself. “Knock it off. And raise your hand if you’ve got something to say.”

  The corners of Sterling’s lips twitched down.

  Carmina raised her hand obediently. “Someday, I will be like my father. When I am nineteen, I will have the Becoming.”

  Next, Nikkos showed off the tricks he’d taught Iffie. Sadie couldn’t get over the fact she had an actual mythological creature in her class, hanging off the fluorescent lights.

  Then it was Henry’s turn. She’d ignored his scowl from the last seat at the back of the room all period.

  “Henry, will you tell me what your Talent is?”

  “No,” he said, in his proper British accent.

  “Just tell her, Nine.” Shakti, a pretty East Indian girl, was slated to take her mother’s place as temple priestess someday. “We all did.”

  Henry shook his ginger hair. “English class is boring and stupid and we don’t need it. We fight evil. We don’t read books.”

  Her stomach sank. “Well—”

  But the bell rang. The kids escaped before she could say one word to defend herself.

  She sighed and grabbed her briefcase from the desk. Sitting on top of it was the shiniest red apple she’d ever seen. It had one dark spot, but someone had taken the time to polish it until it shone. Carmina. It couldn’t be anyone else. As she bit into it, fresh, sweet juice dripped down her chin.

  Her skin began to burn where it touched her.

  She trailed fingers down her jaw. They came away stained with a thin green liquid. She sniffed it curiously. Ugh. Its acrid smell turned her stomach. Then she noticed green liquid leaking from a hole in the apple.

  Panic rose in her chest as she realized her throat was closing.

  Chapter Nine

  “Yes, Maman. I’ve always wanted green wedding invitations.” Gray smiled into the phone as he leaned against a locker waiting for Sterling’s class to finish.

  What did he care about the invitations? Let April have whatever color she liked. The only thing he cared about was getting the whole thing over.