3. Serafina
THREE
“Great,” I grumble, looking up into the darkening sky, glad I applied my waterproof eyeliner and mascara this morning. I may look like a drowned rat on my first day, but at least I won”t have raccoon rings around my eyes.
“Miss Covington,” a deep voice calls out, making me turn toward the large arched entry of Silverwood University. A tall, slim man races down the stairs, umbrella in hand; as he steps off the bottom stairs of the towering stone structure in front of us, the arm holding the umbrella stretches out to reach me. “Serafina Covington?” he asks again, and I nod, looking the man in the eyes, realizing he has to be well over six feet tall to stand eye level with me in heels.
Bright blue eyes twinkle as the man”s fire-red hair darkens under the heavy rain. He steps closer, joining me under the shelter of the umbrella, making my breath hitch at the proximity to a stranger.
“Adam Davis,” he introduces himself, nodding to me before blinking a few times. A scowl settles on his heavy brow as he hesitantly offers his hand in greeting. I arch a brow in surprise, absently noting that the guy has an American accent as I look him over.
“Hello,” I respond, crossing my arms over my chest, offering him a slight smile, hoping my friendly expression deters the rejection of the handshake. Adam frowns, his blue eyes looking at me as he swallows hard. The guy is wearing a white collared long-sleeve shirt with an awful green and tan sweater vest over it. He’s matched the top with a tan set of trousers and a particularly hideous pair of muddy brown loafers. He’s tall but thin and his shoulders are roughly the same width as my narrow ones.
“Right, uh…” he trails off momentarily, his hand falling at his side as he shuffles back and forth on his feet. There isn”t much fear radiating off this man, and I can”t help but be slightly impressed when my presence causes men twice his size to tremble in their boots. “I”m your student guide. I’m supposed to show you around and then escort you to your apartment,” Adam rambles, voice raised to be heard over the rain pounding down around us. A crooked smile appears on his face as he looks down at the tablet clutched in his thin arms, which I didn”t notice until now, before he looks back up and nods toward the archway he appeared from.
“Shall we?”
“Your bags, miss,” my driver calls out as he walks up to my side and places the three black suitcases and small duffle bag on the ground next to me. They are already soaked through, and I grimace at the sight, wondering if I’ll have to re-wash everything I packed.
“Thank you,” I whisper, giving the man a verbal response since I know most people find it weird when I remain silent for too long, then slip him the small bundle of money I have in my hand. The man”s blue-gray eyes widen in shock, then the smallest of smiles appears on his face, and he nods, willingly looking into my eyes for the first time since he picked me up from the airport two hours ago.
“My pleasure, Miss Covington,” he says, nodding and backing away, uncaring of the rain as he murmurs his thanks. I look down at my bags and then back up at Adam, who has looked up from his tablet and is staring at me like a puzzle he’s trying to figure out.
“You have fabulous mental shields,” he randomly remarks, making me arch an annoyed brow at him as my magic swirls in the air at his words. Adam”s eyes widen and a small smile lights his face, showing off the little dimple on his right cheek. I blink at him in surprise, unsure if I should be impressed or worried about his lack of survival instinct.
“Are you attempting to read my mind?” I question, reaching down for the small black duffle bag sitting at my feet as Adam’s cheeks tinge with red, his blue eyes widening with embarrassment.
“What? Oh, no. I have the gift of teleportation, but I’m rather good at reading auras. Yours is locked up tight. I wouldn”t know you were a Reaper if it weren”t for the massive amount of magic pouring from you. It”s amazing the power you have. Is it always this strong?” he asks, and I look at him, my lips thinning as I take in his words.
Adam winces as he realizes what he said. “S-sorry. I shouldn”t have asked that. It was probably too personal. Sorry, can I show you around campus now?” Adam almost begs, stepping away from my side.
I nod at his answer and blink in surprise when he snaps his fingers, and my suitcases and the duffle formerly resting on my shoulder vanish into thin air. “Don’t worry; I sent them to your room. I have your file here and figured sending your belongings to your residence would be easier than lugging them around all day,” Adam explains, pointing at his tablet before he gestures for me to follow him as he turns to head back up the stairs.
I nod, not wanting to stay in the rain any longer than necessary. I follow Adam closely, keeping as much distance as possible between him and me while staying under the umbrella”s shelter.
“Through here, you can reach the center of the university,” Adam explains as we climb the stairs and walk under the massive stone entry. Large silver wooden doors on brass hinges hang on either side of the archway, standing twenty or more feet tall. Intricate carvings of Dragons and Vampires decorate their surface, the art creating a beautiful picture of death as they fight with Dragons on one side and the infamous Transylvanian Vampires on the other.
Adam lowers the umbrella as we stand under the archway”s shelter. Its walls are thirty feet wide and built entirely of gray limestone carved from the Carpathian Mountains. “The courtyard is below.” Adam nods to a large, lush square of grass at the center of the buildings.
A few gazebos and multiple picnic tables are scattered around the famous Silverwood oak trees planted at the courtyard”s perimeter. I look around, surprised at how beautiful the simple university is. There are no pompous fountains or decorations, no prestigious plaques of honor or statues of Fae council members—just trees and tables. Yet, the simple view and the medieval castle wrapped around the area are enough to take my breath away.
“To your left are the dining hall, chapel, and atrium,” Adam adds, motioning to the gray stone building attached to the castle. You can tell it”s an add-on to the original structure. The design is more modern in appearance, with sharp angular windows and corners. “To the right is student housing.” I look over and find a large rectangular building with uniform windows. It”s only three stories tall but is incredibly long.
“What”s that?” I ask, nodding to the odd tall structure behind the student housing. Its black stones glisten in the rain, its windows darkened with magic of some kind I can feel from here. Its design is somewhat similar to Silverwood”s enormous castle, just smaller.
“The Balaur Patrol base. Stay clear of it. Students aren”t allowed inside, and Balaur Patrol aren’t supposed to interact with students unless it”s about a safety concern,” Adam responds, scowling at the dark building before nodding to the massive castle standing proudly at the center of the property. “And, of course, you have Silverwood castle. Most of your classes will be held there. Only a few electives and sporting classes are held in the field house behind the castle,” Adam says, smiling at the castle like he owns the place.
“It’s beautiful,” I offer, looking at the towering castle before us as Adam nods.
“It is. Come on. I’ll show you where your classes are,” he says, and I frown, the days of travel hitting me hard.
“Could we do that tomorrow? I would love to unpack before dinner,” I ask softly, making Adam pause as he pulls the umbrella back out for our use.
“Oh, sure! Of course. I could meet you for breakfast in the morning and show you around?” he suggests, bringing his tablet out and tapping at it a few times while nodding. “Your first class isn”t until ten a.m. tomorrow, so there will be plenty of time,” he confirms, and I smile before my eyes snap up to the sky. My smile falls as I take in the large black bird flying through the rain, its wings beating furiously against the raging wind as it turns and disappears behind the castle.
“Your apartment is this way,” Adam offers, holding the umbrella overhead before leading me down the stairs and across the beautiful but very wet courtyard. I lean forward, walking on my toes so my stiletto heels don”t sink into the damp earth below, and roll my eyes when Adam continues walking across the grass rather than on the stone pathways surrounding the area. “How’d you convince the school board to give you an apartment? First years are usually required to stay in the dorms,” Adam asks, looking at his tablet before eyeing me curiously. I simply shrug my shoulders, not wanting to explain to him that my being in a crowded dorm room would be a very, very bad thing.
Adam hums under his breath when he realizes I’m not going to answer. He leads me past the dorm rooms to a separate building tucked between the Balaur Patrol building and the student housing.
“Where are the other students?” I ask, looking over my shoulder when I see a small group of girls giggling and rushing to the far side of the courtyard.
“Rugby game. We have the best Fae team in the country, and our rivals are playing here tonight. The game starts in thirty minutes if you”re interested in attending. Most of the campus will be there,” Adam says with a twist of his lips.
“But not you?” I ask, and Adam shrugs.
“Not my scene.” We step into the entrance of the building. It’s small but cute, sporting a vase of wildflowers and an antique brass chandelier hanging over a pair of red velvet sitting chairs. I take a moment to admire the Ziegler Mahal rug in the center of the room. It”s gorgeous, the burgundy and gold woven with an expertise that can”t be replicated. “You’re on the top level, apartment B,” Adam directs, stepping to the stairs and climbing up the three flights before walking down the hall and stopping at the wooden door with a large golden ‘B’ in the center. I glance across the hall, looking at my neighbor”s door, and wonder who’s living there. I look back at Adam, who is fishing around in the pocket of his sweater vest, muttering words I can”t quite make out before he grins and yanks his hand back out with a loud, “Ah-ha!”
Jumping back in shock, I glance at Adam and shake my head.
What the hell?
“Oh, uh, sorry,” he grumbles under his breath. His cheeks redden as he reaches into the pocket of his pants and produces a small white square that he rips open. He quickly unfolds what I’m guessing to be a sanitary wipe and cleans the small brass key he now holds before turning to my apartment door and cleaning the handle in front of him.
“Did you know the average door knob holds thirty times more bacteria than a toilet seat?” he asks, running the wipe over the handle once more for good measure before opening the door and stepping inside the room with a slight smile on his lips.
“I…. did not,” I say slowly, following Adam inside the room, relaxing at the calm feeling the darkness instantly provides. My magic practically pours from me in waves as my shoulders relax, and I hear Adam inhale sharply, his blue eyes widening in alarm. I wince as my eyes shut, hating my poor control and knowing Adam is seconds away from running out of this room like death is on his heels. And to be fair, it kind of is. What I don”t expect is Adam shuffling closer to me, like I’ll protect him from the death magic spiraling through the room as he chuckles nervously under his breath.
“Uh… yeah. That”s new. Guess I’ll have to get used to it if we’re going to be friends, huh?”
“We’re going to be friends?” I ask in confusion, tilting my head to the side as Adam stares at the growing pool of black magic encompassing the room.
“Well, I mean. Yeah. If you’d like. It”s the middle of the year, so making new friends is a little more difficult, and the natives here don”t like new people, especially Americans. Besides, I like weird people, so we should get along well enough,” Adam answers, his brows drawing together as he steps forward, his hand raising slightly like he wants to touch my magic.
“No, wait! Don”t!” I snap, hand darting out and catching his wrist moments before his fingertips come in contact with my magic. “Are you stupid!? I’m a Reaper with no magical ties to you or your magic! You could actually die if you aren’t careful around me,” I tell him, frustration leaking into my voice. I just stare at the stupid red-headed boy who is shuffling on his feet and using the hand I don”t have clutched between my fingers to rub at the back of his neck.
“Sorry,” he grumbles, face flaming red. I want to say he blushes a lot, but I’m pretty sure red is just a standard color on Adam Davis. “It looked pretty, and I have a thing for dark magic,” he says, making me eye him as I slowly let his slim wrist fall from my hand. With extra effort, I try to gather my magic back into me, calling it from the corners of the room while promising I’ll let it loose when we’re not at risk of killing our student guide.
“You have a… thing for dark magic?” I repeat, and Adam nods, looking more like a bobblehead than a human.
“Not like that!” he rushes to explain. “I find it fascinating. Did you know that only five percent of Fae-born magic can form a physical entity like this? Not including the elemental witches and mages, since their magic is a natural physical thing. But this—” he gestures to the shadow of death lessening in the room—“is beautiful and terrifying at the same time,” he whispers, his eyes moving to my hands where the shadows of my magic swirl back into me.
You have got to be kidding me. I’m not sure what to say to that. I want to be worried for Adam”s safety… but a small part of me thrills at the thought that someone out there is not scared of me because of what I am.
“Were you dropped on your head as a baby?” I ask, genuinely confused by Adam”s lack of fear, as I breathe a sigh of relief when my magic is entirely under my control once more. Adam frowns when he looks up from my now magicless hands and shakes his head.
“Not that I’m aware of,” he mutters, looking slightly confused. “Neva says I’m bad with people,” he adds offhandedly, more to himself than to me, and I nod.
“I”m not sure who Neva is. But she’s right,” I confirm, rolling my eyes as I move over to where my bags are stacked neatly next to a small, gray couch. Adam frowns and studies me, nodding at me to continue, a look of confusion clear on his face. “You said you wanted to be my friend because I’m weird. That”s not something most people would say when trying to form friendships,” I point out.
He nods slowly and leans against the door of my room, looking like he”s getting comfortable. I sigh in annoyance. I guess he’s not leaving anytime soon. “Being weird is bad?” he asks, and I nod, then frown.
“Yes. I mean, people want to blend in, right? Being weird makes you stand out,” I point out, and Adam scoffs.
“Serafina, you’re a Reaper. You’ll never blend in. Why try to be something you”re not?” he asks in an amused tone, and I glare over my shoulder at him, hating that he’s right.
“It”s safer for people if I do,” I snap.
“I suppose. But if they don”t like it, they should blend in… not you. I find it odd how most people dim their brightness for the sake of others. You’re different; embrace it.”
“This is a weird fucking conversation to have with a stranger,” I grumble as I heave the first suitcase onto the couch and open it, smiling when I find my satin pajamas. Bingo! The moment I kick Adam out I’m putting these on and then binging my weight in the snacks and junk food I packed in my other bag. I don”t have the mental strength to do any more campus touring tonight, so I won”t be going to the cafeteria until morning.
“We’re not strangers. We’re practically friends, remember?” Adam says, a bright smile lighting his happy face. “But I suppose I should let you unpack. I’ll meet you at the dining hall at nine tomorrow?” he asks, standing from his relaxed position against the door. I reluctantly nod.
“Nine. Got it. Thanks for showing me to my room,” I add as Adam beams and nods, grabbing another white sanitary wipe and opening the tiny packet. He takes an eternity to clean the doorknob before he balls up the wipe and tosses it in the small garbage can sitting at the side of a desk nearby.
“I took the liberty of adding some cleaning supplies under your sink when I inspected the apartment earlier. The cleaners went through this morning, but I find their work lacking at best,” Adam mutters, his pleasant expression dropping as he tsks under his breath. “Good evening, Serafina,” he adds, then slams my door behind him, leaving me blinking at the closed door in response.