Strange Academy (Hot Paranormal Romance) (13 page)
“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.
“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.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the period. The empty hallway suddenly filled with talking, laughing students. A few seconds later, Sterling followed the Burana girl out the classroom door. He made a mental note to remind Sterling to stay away from the Non.
“No bullshit, young man,” said his mother, in her poetic Haitian Jamaican lilt. “Remember, I can still put you over my knee.”
He chomped back his laughter at the familiar threat. Through the noisy mass of student humanity, he waved at Sterling, who came over. “Do you want to talk to your grandson?” He didn’t wait for her answer, just passed Sterling the phone.
Sterling’s face brightened when he heard his Grandmaman’s voice. Gray’s stress knot tightened. He knew he should be having deep emotional conversations with Sterling about his feelings and the divorce. He had no idea how to do that. But he knew how to help with homework. And to make sure a certain teacher didn’t overstep her boundaries.
“Yes, Grandmaman,” Sterling said, making Gray stifle a laugh.
Excited yelps caught his attention. A group of gossiping tenth graders parted to reveal Sadie, who looked to be stumbling around. He rolled his eyes. Drama queen.
Then he looked at her again. Her eyes were wild. She clutched her throat. Gray’s senses went live. A spurt of adrenaline shocked into his veins. Something was wrong.
He was at her side in a second. He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him.
One of her coffee-brown eyes twitched crazily as she gasped for air, grabbing at her throat. He saw a dab of green liquid at the corner of her mouth and his stomach clenched. It took a second for recognition to light her eyes. When it did, she thrust an apple at him. Foul liquid dripped from it.
A potion. Calm came over him. He would deal with this. “You’re okay. Lie down and stay calm.”
She nodded then went limp in his arms. Kneeling, he laid her on the lemon bleach-scented floor and undid the top buttons of her white blouse.
He kept his voice carefully calm. “Sterling, get the blank counterspell in the top drawer of my desk.”
Sterling didn’t move. He stood, wide-eyed and frozen, with the phone clenched at his side.
“Sterling, it’s in the top drawer of my desk,” he said calmly.
Sadie’s breath wheezed as she took in less and less air. She arched her back, eyes wide with fear.
“Don’t panic,” he told her. “Trust me. I will fix this.”
She searched his eyes and seemed to find some strength there.
“Sterling,” he yelled. “Go
now
.”
Sterling remained rooted in place. But behind him, another child turned and ran toward his classroom.
Gray rolled up his jacket and placed it under Sadie’s neck, tilting her head back to open her airway. He fought the temptation to give her mouth-to-mouth. With the potion still staining the corners of her lips, he’d end up gasping on the floor, too.
“Just breathe with me, Sadie.” He squeezed her hand and inhaled slowly.
A crowd gathered, mumbling to each other uselessly.
“Get back,” he snapped at the shrinking circle. They obeyed instantly.
Where was the damn kid with his spell? It wouldn’t do any good if Sadie couldn’t swallow it.
“Here.” A little person kneeled beside him and shoved the counterspell into his hand. Sadie breathed in erratic gulps.
“Just a second, Sadie. Hang on.” His voice conveyed a calm he didn’t feel.
He popped the lid and used it to scrape a little of the green liquid from the corner of her mouth into the vial. Precious seconds ticked away as the blank counterspell mixed with the potion. His counterspell turned green, taking on the sample’s malignant properties.
But it stayed green. Shit. If he’d missed anything when he brewed the blank, it wouldn’t react with the added potion to become its opposite. And an innocent person would die. Did he get the quantities wrong? Was it too old?
