Nightshade (6 page)

LAMELY TITLED “BIG IDEAS,” MY ONLY AFTERNOON
course surveyed philosophy from the classical era through the present day. Despite its vague theme, the class had become my favorite, but when I saw Shay sitting in a desk near the tall windows of the room’s outer wall, my heart tripped over itself. I headed to the back of the room, as far away as I could get. Shay’s eyes were on me as I took my seat. I pulled out the thick binder that contained our readings for the entire year and flipped to the homework from the previous night. As I tried to review my notes, the words blurred before me.

A low, husky laugh drew my attention to the door as the three Bane seniors entered the room. Sabine smiled up at Ren. My jaw clenched to see her arm threaded through his. Dax bounded in just behind the pair. Ren scanned the half-filled seats, his grin fading the second he saw our new classmate.

Ren pulled his arm free of Sabine, turned toward Dax, and jerked his chin in the stranger’s direction. The two Banes swaggered shoulder to shoulder up to Shay, whose eyes widened as the wolves approached. I gripped the sides of my chair, ready to throw myself between predators and unwitting prey if things got out of hand. Ren’s lips curled back in an expression that could hardly be called a smile. I fought back a snarl as I watched the alpha close in.

If you hurt him, I’ll kill you.
I swallowed my own gasp at the unbidden thought, glad we weren’t in wolf form. Ren was the last person I could threaten. He was the pack’s future. My future.

He extended his hand. “I’m Ren Laroche. You’re new here. I saw you in Organic Chemistry.”

Shay frowned and slowly reached out, wincing when Ren grasped his fingers. But instead of shrinking down into his desk, as most humans would have, the stranger glared at Ren and ripped his hand out of the Bane’s grasp.

“Shay. Shay Doran.” He flexed his fingers beneath his desk.

“Good to know you, Shay.” Ren glanced at his hulking companion. “This is Dax.”

Dax made a show of cracking his knuckles. “Hey, man. Hope you make it here. Tough school.”

In a swift, unison motion Ren and Dax slid into the desks on either side of Shay. I clutched my pencil so tightly it snapped in half. From his newly selected seat, Ren winked at me. I sent him dagger eyes, but it only widened his smile.

The bell sounded and our teacher, Mr. Selby, began to write on the whiteboard. The scrawled question: WHAT IS THE TRUE STATE OF NATURE? filled the blank space.

“Before we launch into today’s discussion topic, I want to bring your attention to a new member of our class.” He turned and gestured to where Shay sat, tense, between the lounging Bane boys.

“Mr. Doran, would you say a few words about yourself?”

Shay shifted in his seat, glancing around the classroom.

“I’m Shay. I just moved here with my uncle. I was in Portland for the last two years. And then before that, well . . . I haven’t ever stayed in one place for very long.”

Mr. Selby smiled at our new classmate. “Welcome to the Mountain School. I understand that you may not have had time to catch up on all the assigned reading for this course yet, but feel free to join the discussion if you’d like.”

“Thanks,” Shay said, before muttering something under his breath that sounded like: “I’ll try to keep up.”

Mr. Selby turned back to the board. “From the reading: philosophers’ ideas about how the natural order of the world operates. Where it all began, what it looks like?”

“
In paradisum.
Paradise. Eden.” Ren flashed me a wicked smile.

“Very good, Mr. Laroche. The state of nature as paradise. Lost forever—maybe, maybe not? Enlightenment philosophers thought the New World might be the new Eden.” Mr. Selby recorded the response on the whiteboard. “What else?”

“Tabula rasa,”
I answered. “The blank slate.”

“Yes. Every person born with endless possibility inside them. Locke’s theory gained quite a following. We should talk about whether you think it’s viable in contemporary society. Other ideas?”

All the non-humans in the room stiffened in their seats, heads turning toward the speaker. The rest of the students looked impressed by all the Latin phrases being thrown around, but no comprehension dawned on their faces.

“The war of all against all.” Shay frowned when Mr. Selby didn’t copy the words onto the board.

“Thomas Hobbes is often considered a foundational theorist about the state of nature,” Shay continued, though his voice had become more hesitant. Mr. Selby turned, face paling as he stared at his new pupil.

Shay’s mouth flattened at Mr. Selby’s expression. “I do a lot of reading on my own.”

“Hobbes wasn’t in our readings,” a cold voice said.

I drew a sharp breath. The speaker was a Keeper boy with a crown of golden casually spiked hair. Logan Bane, Efron’s only son, threw a spiteful look at Shay. I stared at the young Keeper. Logan never participated in discussion. He usually slept through class.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Shay twirled a pen in his fingers. “He’s in all the standard philosophy texts.”

Mr. Selby glanced at Logan, who tilted his head at the teacher and raised his eyebrows.

“The, um, Mountain School curriculum doesn’t include Thomas Hobbes.” Mr. Selby’s eyes bulged, still fixed on the young Keeper.

Shay looked ready to stand on top of his desk in protest. “What?”

Logan turned to him. “It has been concluded that his ideas are somewhat banal for our consideration.”

“By who?” The Keepers’ and Guardians’ eyes were focused on Shay. The human students looked as though they wanted to hide beneath their desks until this line of discussion was dropped.

Logan pulled off the sunglasses he always wore, no matter the weather nor the time of day.

I watched, amazed. This must be a big deal.

“The Regents,” he said, as if correcting a child’s mistake. “One of whom is your uncle, Shay. Also my father and several other significant men who protect the reputation of this institution.”

My jaw dropped. Uncle?

“And they’ve censored Hobbes?” Shay said. “I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous.”

“Let’s move on, shall we?” A sheen of sweat appeared on Mr. Selby’s forehead.

“Why? Why wouldn’t you study Hobbes? He’s arguably the founder of this subject of discussion,” Shay blurted.

My fingers gripped the edge of my desk. He might as well have walked in front of a firing squad wearing a target.
I can’t believe I have to help him again.

“Because we know better.” I spit out the words. “We can evolve from Hobbes’s disastrous world and not wallow in violence. War is a savage schoolmaster, right?”

Mr. Selby gave me a grateful smile, wiping his brow with a handkerchief. “Thank you, Ms. Tor. Nice use of Thucydides. The theorists we study in this class have a more hopeful outlook on the world than did Mr. Hobbes.”

Ren beat pencils on his desk like drumsticks. “I don’t know. Savagery seems okay to me.”

All the Guardians in the class burst into laughter, including myself. The human children shrank into their seats looking terrified, except Shay, who wore an expression of utter confusion. The young Keepers smirked, throwing disdainful glances at the wolves.

Shay’s next words were frustrated but insistent. “Hobbes isn’t talking about savagery. It’s about the ceaseless struggle for power. Strife unending that makes the world go round. That’s the true state of nature. You can’t just ignore it because some stuffed shirts call it vulgar.”

Ren turned to face Shay, regarding the new student with a gaze that was almost admiring, if still wary. Dax glanced from his alpha to me and then to Shay. He looked like he was waiting for one of us to spontaneously combust. Sabine stared at Shay as if the boy’s skin had turned inside out. Logan sighed and began to examine his fingernails.

Shay threw a pleading look at Mr. Selby. “Can we please talk about the war of all against all? I think it’s the most important idea I’ve come across in philosophy.”

The sweat on Mr. Selby’s forehead formed droplets that trickled down his temples.

“Well, I suppose . . .” He raised the marker to begin writing on the whiteboard. A spasm jerked through his fingers and the dry-erase pen dropped to the floor again.

“You need to work on your reflexes, Mr. Selby,” Ren teased. A nervous titter moved through the classroom.

Our teacher didn’t respond; the quaking of his fingers moved up his arm. His entire body convulsed. He bent backward, flailed, and collapsed to the floor twitching violently. White spittle collected at the corners of his mouth, spilling down his jawline.

“Oh my God, he’s having a seizure!” shrieked a human girl, who I thought was called Rachel. I’d never bothered to learn most of their names.

Dax bolted from his desk and crouched beside Mr. Selby’s tormented body. He shouted at the still-screeching human girl, “Shut up and go get help!”

She scampered from the classroom. Several human children had pulled out their phones.

“Phones away now!” Logan’s sharp command filled the room.

“Just get Nurse Flynn, Rachel,” he called to the girl in a loud but rather lazy voice. The golden-haired Keeper looked bored. I stared at him. Nurse Flynn was a Keeper who oversaw the small infirmary in the Mountain School, but I wasn’t sure she had any real medical training.

Dax, who had stilled our teacher’s convulsions through sheer brute strength, frowned. “He needs an ambulance.”

“No, he doesn’t. When Flynn arrives, our dear teacher will be fine.” Logan’s cold response was accompanied by a sweep of his eyes across the room. He raised his crystal-clear voice, addressing the class.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re finished here. Go find someplace else to be.”

Most of the human students bolted from the room. A few stared for another minute at Dax, who still pinned Mr. Selby against the tile floor, then slunk off whispering to each other. The other Keeper children nodded at Logan and moved quietly out the door. The Guardians, and Shay, hesitated. Our eyes fixed on Logan, who gazed back at us with smug confidence. An ebony-haired woman, with a stunning figure marred by the large, misshapen hump on her back, appeared in the doorway. She was followed by two men who pushed a gurney.

“We’ll take it from here, Dax.”

Dax released Mr. Selby, who immediately began to flail again. Nurse Flynn withdrew a syringe from the pocket of her lab coat, knelt down, and plunged the needle into his neck. Mr. Selby’s spasms eased and he moaned once before dropping into unconsciousness. Nurse Flynn nodded to her two companions, who lifted Mr. Selby onto the gurney and wheeled him from the room.

She turned to Logan. “Thank you for sending Rachel to alert me, Mr. Bane.”

The golden-haired boy made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

“Your prompt attention to the matter is noted, Lana.”

Nurse Flynn dipped into a curtsy and left the classroom.

Logan sauntered over to Shay. “Let’s take a walk.”

Shay slowly rose to his feet. “What the hell just happened?”

“Mr. Selby is epileptic. It’s a shame, really. He’s a fine teacher,” Logan replied, the hand that he still held behind him jerking rapidly in odd flickers of his fingers.

Shay’s eyelids fluttered as Logan smiled, sliding his arm around the boy’s shoulders. He drew our new classmate, who stumbled forward in a near stupor, toward the door.

“I’ll give you a ride home. I’m sure Bosque is eager to hear about your first day at our school.”

The two boys walked away. Logan turned once and flashed a smile at the Guardians, who were now the sole occupants of the classroom.

Ren leapt to his feet and swore. “What was that?”

I thought about standing but decided against it. My limbs seemed to have transformed into Jell-O. Ren’s gaze moved over my face. He crouched beside my desk, folding my shaking hands in his own.

“Calla,” he said. “Are you all right?”

I pulled out of his grasp. “His uncle. Logan said Shay’s uncle is a Regent. That’s just not possible. God, Ren. Why would the Keepers have anything to do with a human boy? Who is Bosque?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never heard of them adopting a human. If that’s even the right word.” Ren shoved his hands in his pockets. “Efron hasn’t said anything about it. At least not to me.”

“And what happened to Mr. Selby?” Dax wandered over to Ren’s side. “I didn’t know he was epileptic.”

“When did you all become idiots?” Sabine’s voice was jagged as broken glass. “He isn’t epileptic. You know the phrase that stupid boy kept repeating is forbidden. He triggered one of the Keepers’ spells. Selby was being punished for discussing a censored subject. The Keepers don’t tolerate such behavior.”

Dax turned toward her. “So no ambulance?”