Strange Academy (Hot Paranormal Romance) (31 page)

“Oh Gray, I’m so honored.” To his complete surprise, she flung her arms around his neck. “We’ll be just like Tristan and Iseult. Guinevere and Lancelot. Anna Karenina and...” Sadie sobbed into his shoulder.

He had to wrap his arms around her waist to hold her up. She continued talking, but he zoned her out.

Not exactly the answer he’d expected. The Sadie he knew—correction, thought he knew—would have told him to screw off. But this was what he wanted, wasn’t it? She’d just agreed to stay with him. If his Sadie said it, she meant forever.

Forever
. With a woman who was thrilled to share him with another woman? His stress knot tightened painfully.

He tuned back in to what Sadie was saying. “—and I’ll know when you’re making babies with your wife, you’ll be thinking of me. It’s every girl’s dream.”

“You’re being sarcastic right now, aren’t you?” he asked.

She shoved him away, lowering her voice a couple of octaves. “You think?”

For some reason, his stress knot loosened. It made no sense, because her answer meant that before long, he’d never see her again.

“I’m not that girl. You wouldn’t want me if I was. Get married, Gray. You’ll get over me.” Sadie didn’t meet his gaze as she straightened his collar.

He pressed her hands to his thudding heart. “Never.”

“I know your weak spots.” Her smile was razor thin. “You’ll think of me until April puts your son in your arms. You’ll love the mother of your children, Gray. That’s what heroes do.”

He wanted to deny it, but it felt true. It would be the best for April. For his kids. For the Gray House. And for Sadie.

“What happens to you?” he asked.

She shrugged and pulled her hands out of his. “Since I can’t leave school grounds, my dating pool is kind of shallow.”

“Someone will fall in love with you.” Whoever it was, Gray hated him more than anyone.

“Now that I’ll be staying, just don’t send your kids here. I couldn’t stand it.” She suddenly sounded tired.

He didn’t hesitate. “One of them will come here.”

Her eyebrows crinkled in confusion. “I’m asking you.”

Gray avoided her coffee-brown eyes. He didn’t have to see the hurt to know it was there.

“Why?” Her tone was flat, resigned.

“Sterling’s stomach,” he said. “My son will need someone like you.” Like he’d needed Pippa.

And he’d hurt Pippa, too, of course. Damn. His stress knot turned into an iron spike someone was hammering into his shoulder blade.

“So that’s more important than a decade of me looking into a pair of gray eyes and being reminded you left me because I wasn’t good enough for you? We’re in a closet, Gray. You won’t talk to me in public. But I should sacrifice my own feelings for your famous Gray House?”

“Fuck, Sadie, don’t you get it? Being with you would mean risking having children with no Talent to defend themselves against the dark forces of this world. This is not about you and me. It’s about the future of the Gray House.” His voice was steadier than he felt. “You made a pretty speech in the staff room about contributing to Strange Academy. Is that only when it’s convenient for you?”

She stood her ground and lifted her pointed chin. “I’ll never leave the school grounds again. Don’t tell me what’s convenient. I’ll give your kid an F,” she said.

“You won’t fail my children.” His flat tone resounded in the small, dark space.

Without a word, she turned away, liquid fire blazing in her eyes, and walked out. He was alone in his darkness again.
You won’t fail my kid, Sadie. Because that’s what heroes do.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“What were you thinking?” Parker Klark demanded, towering over Gray in his too-small seat in the school auditorium.

The sound of Klark’s voice made people’s gazes swing toward them. Seeing Gray, they looked away and concentrated on dealing with the fold-down seats. No one wanted to get involved in anyone’s dispute with the heir to the Gray House.

He bristled. Before Klark’s accident, Gray would have hauled him outside. His Metanormal strength had made him a match for Gray, once. Before those crutches.

He shifted down a seat, ending up touching shoulders with a dark blonde in a navy business suit. The white gloves, keeping her from unwanted physical contact, were a sure sign she was a full-blown psychic.

“Sit.” He ordered Klark into the empty seat.

Klark set his jaw, but sat, laying his crutches in the aisle. “Sadie Strange shouldn’t be up there.”

“Yeah, I know.”

But there she was, far below the raised seating, chatting with a well-dressed older man. Her nape glowed under the stage lighting, contrasting with the furry collar of her black sweater. He inspected that collar closely and didn’t see the cord of his
gris-gris
bag. She’d damn well better be wearing it. Maybe stuck in her bra, nestled between those creamy breasts.

The bottom of her skirt—black again—swirled around her fine legs whenever she walked. It was black all the time these days, as if she was always on her way to a funeral.

 As the stragglers found their seats, the older man offered Sadie an arm and escorted her to the row of folding chairs.

Cross went to the wooden podium decorated with a gaudy gold-leafed version of the school crest. He tapped the microphone to sound check it. He welcomed people to Alumni Day, but Gray soon tuned him out.

If only Klark knew how much Gray regretted Sadie being up there. He’d woken in a sweat at three a.m. after the closet scene. Why hadn’t he just agreed?
Sending my kid here would be cruel,
he could have said. An easy lie.

Great plan. Help Sadie get the chance to talk to every Meta who’d ever graduated from Strange Academy, then piss her off. Yep, great plan, Dumbass.

According to Sterling, she’d said her Talent was words. Did she know how much her words could hurt him now? One sentence out of her mouth and his world would crumble. If the Gray House knew the heir was sleeping with a Non, the least that would happen would be finding himself married to April tomorrow. Worst case, his father would disinherit him.

Either way, he’d end up abandoning Sterling. The divorce would be final soon. And Sterling had an ulcer.

His gaze drifted to the white-haired man whispering in Sadie’s ear. She bit her lip as thought she was trying not to laugh. It was Ashcroft. The old coot was Ashcroft, the alchemy teacher Gray had replaced. He’d taught Gray everything he knew.

“Gray, you look like you’re planning a murder. She shouldn’t be up there, but I don’t think the solution is to kill her,” Klark said. “On the other hand, it would solve the problem. Just remember to make it look like an accident.”

An accident.
The words rang in his mind. Had Klark really said that? Sitting there on stage, she certainly looked like a target. There were two thousand Metas here, students and parents, so if anything happened, there would be too many suspects to narrow down.

On the stage, Cross introduced Sadie. Klark reacted immediately, almost as if he’d planned it. “Hell, I can’t stand it.” Klark reached beside his chair as Sadie walked across the stage to the podium.

Klark brought up his crutches under his armpits and stood. Did he usually make so much noise with his crutches? The sound drew the attention of a full theatre as he crutched to the exit.

Gray turned back to the stage to find Sadie standing at the podium, staring at her notes, her cheeks flaming. Klark had rattled her. This meant so much to her. She had this thing about fitting in and Klark had just made her stick out again.

After a moment, she raised her pointed chin and met the eyes of her audience. Then the real problem came flooding back to him: She could expose their relationship and disrupt his life in an instant.

“My aunt, Pippa Strange...”

She spoke, but his thoughts were louder and he couldn’t make out the words. If she decided to reveal that they'd been sleeping together in front of this massive crowd, no spell could save him.

Abruptly, she stopped and looked straight at him. He felt the ground crumbling under his fold-down seat. “Oh, you’re here.” She paused. “Right. Where else would you be?”

Gray’s chest went tight.

Sadie rustled through her notes. “Pippa deserves a better speech than this. She deserves a speech by someone who really knew who she was. She told me over and over, and I chose not to believe it. I made fun of her because I thought I was so smart, and it was easy to mock her. Even though I was blind—willingly blind—she repaid me by looking after me and bringing me here. Pippa gave me a chance I didn’t deserve. A chance to know someone special.”

This was it. He turned to stone in his seat, dreading what she’d say next. It was going to come out. Her next words had the power to hurt him as much as any demon he’d ever faced.

“I want to set the record straight.” Sadie’s voice wavered, but she stood tall. “I want things to be right between us. Whatever I have to do to make it up to you, I will.”

Sadie looked straight into his eyes. They could have been the only two people in the room. Everyone else faded away. His future rested on what she said next.

“I want to drink the fat, Chloë.”

Chloë? Gray raised an eyebrow. That was the name of—

He turned to the blonde wearing white gloves next to him. So did most of the room. Same pointed chin as Sadie.

Chloë. Sadie’s sister.

*

***

******

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*

Just get me off this stage, Sadie prayed to her legs when the applause from the final speech ended.

Her limbs took the hint and didn’t give out as she stood from her chair.
Ignore the fact the audience is staring at you and the way their eyes make you feel very small,
she told herself.
Good.

Now it’s just five paces to those velvet curtains. Make it there and you’re practically back to Strange Hall,
she lied.

She didn’t make it. A hand caught her above the elbow. Attached to it was a white-haired man.

“Well, my dear, you’ve made this the most interesting Alumni Day in living memory.” Humor sparkled in Mr. Ashcroft’s eyes. Sitting next to him for the last hour and a half had taught her what a wicked sense of humor the retired teacher had. He’d ignored all the speeches and spent his time whispering scandalous stories about former students into her ear.

Mr. Ashcroft had distracted her from thoughts of revealing her relationship with Gray to the audience. Bad thoughts. As much as it hurt her, she saw Gray’s point. She couldn’t fault him for wanting kids with superpowers in a dangerous world.

Hell, there was even something admirable about a guy who put his family before his own feelings.

No doubt Mr. Ashcroft had another scandalous story now. So, a Non walks into a school assembly... “Thanks. I guess.”

“I’m going to find my replacement and see if I can make him blow his stack. He blew up enough of my chemistry equipment.” Mr. Ashcroft offered his arm. “Would you care to join me? One of the benefits of being old is meddling in other people’s affairs without fear of retaliation.”

“Pippa would agree with you.” She sighed. “I should find my sister. I only hope my speech worked.”

Deep vertical age lines appeared on either side of his smile. “Unless she’s made of stone, your speech worked. Perhaps I’ll see you next year?”

She swallowed a rueful half-snort. “Oh, they’re never letting me on this stage again.”

“Very true, very true.” Mr. Ashcroft chuckled, strolling across the darkened backstage, toward the door below the red emergency exit sign. “Well, I’m off to hunt Lorde Gray.”

“Wait.” Her head spun with unconnected bits of information. “You taught Gray?” Sadie rushed to catch up to Mr. Ashcroft, pushing the stage curtain out of the way.

But the person standing there wasn’t Mr. Ashcroft.

“Hunt Lorde Gray?” the woman said. “Good luck to him. I tried it when I was younger. He told me I wasn’t his type. What eighteen-year-old boy tells a girl she isn’t his type?”

“Chloë,” Sadie said.

Her older sister scowled at her.

Chloë Quinn stood several inches taller than Sadie, and even higher in her gleaming patent leather heels. To Sadie, Chloë had always seemed so put together. If she thought about it, Chloë’s blonde hair and emerald-green eyes made her feel, well, brown. So she didn’t think about it.

Behind the Chanel armor was another Chloë, the one she remembered from her childhood. A little girl who got headaches if you grabbed her hand without warning her first. Then her sister hadcome to Strange Academy, she realized for the first time. They must have trained her here, taught her what she needed to know to use her gift. Little Sadie had cried when Chloë went away, not understanding why her older sister had to go. Her five-year-old brain knew one thing: If you were different, they sent you away.

She blinked her suddenly hot eyes. That was when she had vowed to be like everyone else. To always fit in.

Chloë rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t going to forgive you right away. I wanted you to grovel. It wasn’t about you calling me a faker at Pippa’s funeral, you know. It was about you calling me a faker since you were sixteen years old. But now your eye is twitching. Come here.”

She fell into Chloë’s open arms. “I’m sorry.” She choked between words, her eyes hot with happy tears.

After a while, they stepped apart, and she saw Chloë’s face was as leaky as her own.

“Jerk,” Chloë said.

She nodded. “I know.”

Chloë pulled a stiff white handkerchief from the purse that matched her shoes and dabbed her mascara. Sadie wiped her own eyes with her hand.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Here.” Chloë handed her a tissue. “That may have been the best job of drinking the fat I’ve ever seen. Wish I’d brought a video camera.”

“I’ll say it again whenever you want. Just call me.”

Chloë smiled wryly. “Careful. I’ll hold you to it.”

“How’s Moira? How’s Mom? How’s your work with the police? Tell me everything. I miss you guys so much.” She knew she was rambling but didn’t care.