9. Serafina
NINE
Igroan as the world around me slowly stills, the spinning room settling as my ears continue to ring. Long fingers wrap around my wrist and yank me to my feet, making bile climb up my throat at the sudden movement. As Adam”s mouth moves, I clamp a hand over my mouth, and I realize he’s talking to me. I shake my head, wincing as it causes my head to throb and my vision to blur for a few moments.
“Serafina? Hey! Shit… I broke her. Crap, crap, crap.” Long fingers move to my neck, pressing there to take my pulse as Adam’s panicked blue eyes stay on my face as my vision slowly clears. “Hey, I need you to respond so I know I didn”t break you,” he says between gasping breaths, his voice so squeaky I have difficulty understanding him.
Damn… his face is turning red, and his breath is coming in rapid succession.
“Uhh,” I say, taking a moment to formulate the right words. I feel like I”m in a fog, but it”s slowly dissipating the longer I stare at Adam.
“Uhh? Uhh, what?! Ah fuck!” Adam groans, facepalming himself as he stares at me with devastation. “I’m sorry for frying your brain,” he whispers as his eyes become wet.
“What?” I whisper, then shake my head and groan as pain lances through my brain. “Oh damn. Don”t let me shake my head. I’m good… I think,” I add as Adam inhales sharply, his long fingers grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him as he nods.
“Yeah?” He asks, and I nod.
“Yeah. It”s just a headache,” I reassure him as he releases my chin and presses a palm to his chest, bending at the waist as he blows out a breath in relief.
“Holy shit! I thought I broke you. I don”t typically transport people besides myself. The last time I tried, I left behind my brother”s arm,” he admits, and I blink at him in shock. Excuse me, what?
“His arm?” I ask slowly, bringing my fingers up to rub at my temples.
“Yeah. Thank God one of my moms is a healer. She had him patched back together in minutes,” he mutters as he slowly stands back up to his full height, worried eyes glancing over me as if to reassure himself that I have both arms.
“Damn,” I whisper, rubbing my arms. “I’m kind of glad you didn”t tell me that before you transported us,” I admit, and Adam lets out a nervous chuckle.
“Yeah. Let’s not do that again. Now, about your stalker,” he says, and I shake my head.
“Teos isn”t my stalker,” I mutter, annoyed by Teos’ ridiculousness. “He’s… well, a person from my past,” I finally say, unsure how to explain our history. “We were friends once.” Adam frowns, studying me for a moment before he heaves a sigh and places his hands on his trim hips.
“So I don”t need to find Neva and have her take care of him?” he asks, making my mouth drop in surprise. “She’s not a fan of men who harass women. She’ll make sure no one knows about him or where the body is.” This time, I do laugh. I can”t help myself. I didn”t realize cute little Adam had something like that in him. And this is the second time Adam’s mentioned this Neva person… She sounds like someone I may like.
“No. Please, no random murders. Trust me when I say I can handle that on my own,” I point out, and Adam”s expression softens as if he’s just remembered who I am. Pink tinges his cheeks, and he nods.
“Oh yeah. I forgot,” he admits.
“Thanks for the save back at the shop,” I mutter awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot, my head still throbbing but my stomach settling slightly. It”s probably a good thing I haven”t eaten today. I would have made a mess throwing it up if I had.
“Sure thing. I’ll see you at dinner?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“I apparently have a ten thousand word report due next week in Professor Hawkins” class. I grabbed some extra food so I could stay in tonight,” I say, reaching down to grab my bag off the floor and then tossing it on the couch. Adam winces and walks over, reaching into his pocket to produce the small bottle of spray sanitizer before covering my bag, and then couch, with the spray. He then turns to me, reaching into his backpack, which is still on his shoulder, and grabs the lint roller before offering it to me.
“Here. You have dirt on your clothes,” he says as he sprays the sanitizer all over himself.
“Thanks,” I say, rolling it over my clothes half-heartedly. I’m just going to change the moment he leaves, but I don”t want to snub what I’m gathering as a friendly gesture from him. I hand the roller back to Adam, who then gives me a sanitizer wipe and a tight smile.
“I’ll see you in class tomorrow, then. You remember how to get there, right?” he asks, and I nod.
“Yep. See you then,” I confirm.
Adam leaves, and I finally breathe a sigh of relief, letting my guard down as the inky black swirls of my magic crawl from my fingertips. Walking over, I collapse on the small couch of my apartment, my mind a whirlwind as I go over every word Teos said. Reaching into my bag, I grab one of the pre-made sandwiches, ham and cheese, and unwrap it, taking a large bite while glaring at the empty gray stone walls.
I wasn’t prepared for Teos to track me down that quickly, and I expected more anger than I heard in his voice today. It’s one of the reasons I couldn”t bring myself to look at him in the tiny backroom. Even from that distance, I could already feel his presence and smell his beautiful, calming scent. I knew it would hurt to see him that close. I set my sandwich off to the side, no longer feeling hungry as I think, walking myself through everything that happened in the shop. The sweet scent of amber that filled the room the moment he entered. The rough quality of his voice definitely hadn”t been there the last time I talked to him. And the sheer dominance of the man as he confidently told Adam to let go of what was his.
I can”t decide if I like that he’s that possessive or mad that he”s trying to claim me like a piece of property. But that”s what”s truly confusing! I left him and forced distance between us at the hospital. I told him horrible things, and then he was gone. His family moved him away to keep him safe from me.
Teos should hate me, and I was okay with that because it meant he would stay safe from me. But it seems like that might not be the case, which honestly scares the hell out of me. Teos is my weakness. He always has been, and I know I will cave if I let him near. My whole reason for being at this school is to help my brother stop a serial killer and find myself. I’m afraid that’s not going to happen with Teos here.
“I’m so fucked,” I whisper to myself as my magic encompasses the room, cocooning me in a void of safety as I have a mini meltdown.
He called me Bella… the nickname I hated so much as a teen. My chest tightens, and my eyes flutter shut as I try to calm my racing heart. Images of the young boy I met in high school flash through my mind—the good, the bad, and the ugly.
“Uhh,” I groan, letting my head fall back on the couch as I try and fail to wipe the memories of Teos Ramadan from my mind.
Backpack in hand,I climb the steps of the castle, letting the students skirt around me as I stalk up the steps. Unease fills the air as several students stare at me, but for the most part, the masses of people are too concerned with their own lives to notice me or my magic.
I have my heels back on today, make-up on point, and a comfortable but professional-looking black lace blouse and slacks. After my run-in with Teos yesterday, I was left feeling vulnerable, which pissed me off, so I made sure I had everything put together this morning. My long hair is down and straightened to perfection, cascading around my shoulders like a black wave that sways as I move. Walking into the castle, I look around, trying to remember which way Adam said our Magical Creatures class is.
“Shit,” I mutter, looking left and then right. Math is downstairs, and the Magical Creatures class is up by Atlas’ room… right? Fuck, I should have had Adam meet me so I wouldn”t get lost. Rushing up the absurdly long staircase, I move down the halls of the dark castle, eyes bouncing from door to door, wondering why they don”t have nameplates or something to label the classrooms. There’s not even a number near the doors to help tell them apart.
“Door numbers are going on the list with the elevators,” I mutter under my breath. I follow a group of girls into a classroom and look around, trying to spot some red hair. After a moment, I cave and step next to the guy sitting at the desk closest to the door.
“Is this the Magical Creatures class?” I ask softly, watching as the guy startles a little, then looks up at me with a big smile, which promptly falls off his handsome face the longer he studies me. His big gray eyes widen, and I swear his nose twitches a little as he swallows, darting nervous eyes from me to the door behind me.
“No,” he whispers, shaking his head. I arch my brow when he says nothing else.
“Could you point me in the right direction?” I ask as a professor walks in through a side door at the front of the classroom, calling the students to attention.
“Y-yeah. Of course. Umm.” He points to the door behind me with a trembling finger. The fear that starts to course off of him is more than normal, and I frown in concern, brushing my magic against him to try to figure out what”s wrong. He whimpers a little as I read his magic, and I instantly feel like shit. There is no mental shield and hardly any magic to read. If he had been a regular strength shifter, it would have been hard to pinpoint, but the skittish magic he possesses is easy to recognize.
He’s a rabbit shifter.
“T-two doors down on the l-left side of the hall,” he stutters, and I nod, stepping back so I don”t terrify him more than I already have.
“Thank you,” I whisper, and give him a small smile before I rush out of the classroom and jerk to a halt. There are no students in the hall; no one is rushing toward a classroom. I glance down at my phone and curse. I’m five minutes late to class. “Fucking hell,” I growl as I stride for the closed classroom door and slowly open it, hoping I can sneak in without anyone noticing.
Wrapping my hand around the cold brass knob, I slowly press the heavy wooden door open and step inside the dimly lit classroom, only to jerk to a stop when an angry pair of brown eyes clash with mine. Almost like a magnet, my eyes stay locked with his, my magic flickering to life as we stare at each other. My mind spins, and every damn thought leaves my brain as I stare at him. There is something familiar about this guy—something about the magic lingering around him that sets my teeth on edge and makes me feel like something is out of place.
A look of confusion flickers across his beautiful face as my magic curls around my fingertips. My eyes widen in shock, and I immediately yank it back into me, but the damage is already done. The man’s confusion slowly melts to anger as he stares at me, and I have to force myself to look away when he takes a step back, putting distance between us.
Okay… so not a fan of Reapers. Not that I should be surprised. This is a common reaction to my presence. Wait. What the hell? Why do I care what this douche thinks of me?
“And you are?” the man asks before I have a moment to look around. The only thing I know is that this damn door leads to the front of the classroom, not the back, and I can feel at least a dozen or more pairs of eyes on me.
Looking up, my eyes immediately fall on Adam’s bright red hair as he sits up straight at his desk, a worried look in his eyes as he glances between the man and me. He then jerks his head to the empty desk next to him, his eyes widening as if to say, ‘Move your ass.’
I take a step forward, wanting the attention currently on me gone, when a snapping noise makes me pause and turn back to the man. I’m careful not to meet his eyes, not wanting to have another brain malfunction, but I do look him over.
He’s wearing a white button-down shirt that stretches over impossibly broad shoulders. He has a gold tie knotted perfectly at his neck, the color offsetting the soft, light brown tones of his shoulder-length hair. His square jaw, which is dusted in a short layer of facial hair, clenches as he glares at me, his head tilting to the side as his eyes flick up and down my body. The corner of his eye twitches as he looks back up at me, an unimpressed look on his God-like face.
Shit, this guy is beautiful; too bad he’s ruining his good looks with the expression he’s currently wearing. He looks like he just sucked on a sour lemon. To be fair, I look like a bitch ninety-five percent of the time, so I guess I can”t judge.
The man, who I’m assuming is the infamous Professor Ambrose, is holding his hand out, ring finger and thumb held together as he glares at me.
Did… did he just snap at me like a damn dog?
“I asked you a question. I expect an answer if you’re going to rudely interrupt my class, young lady,” he snaps. His voice is smooth, the pitch almost melodic, with his soft British accent, as he questions me. Thick but perfectly sculpted brows draw down as he takes another step back, his disgust at my presence evident on his face the longer he stares at me.
I inhale slowly,looking over the professor for a moment as I try to decide whether I want to reach out and touch his soft-looking hair that doesn’t look real or tear his soul from his body. Both, I imagine, would be equally fun.
“Serafina,” I respond coolly, looking at his face but making sure my eyes don”t move above the man”s nose. There are hushed whispers as the class looks from me to Professor Ambrose. The girls giggle and blush, not giving two shits about me, their attention solely on the man at the front of the class, and the guys are all shooting me sympathetic looks.
“Serafina…who? And why are you standing in my class?” Professor Ambrose snaps, annoyance clear on his face as he tilts his head to the other side, studying me so closely I can feel my skin itch under his perusal.
“Serafina Covington, and I’m standing here because I’m a student in your class,” I snap back, my annoyance growing at this man”s attitude. Sure, I was a few minutes late, but he’s the one who is now stalling the class—not me. And the way he’s looking down his nose at me like I’m dirt under his perfectly polished shoes makes me feel self-conscious. Something I haven”t felt in years. The professor sniffs and wrinkles his nose like I smell bad.
Gah! The nerve of this man!
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Adam smack his forehead as he slumps down in his seat, wincing at me as the class falls eerily silent.
“Covington,” Professor Ambrose drawls as he places his large hands on trim hips. “Of course you are,” he scoffs, and I can feel my magic creep forward, its interest in this man suddenly gone. This time, I have zero qualms, staring the professor in the eyes as he sneers in my direction. “Just because you are a Covington doesn”t allow you to be late and interrupt my class. Find your seat and try not to disturb my class further.” Professor Ambrose waves his hand in the air, dismissing me without another glance as he turns and heads back to the podium at the front of the class.
I grind my teeth together as my hands ball into fists at my sides, turning on my heel and stalking to where Adam is side-eyeing me hard.
“What?” I hiss under my breath when I sit beside him, and he keeps looking at me.
“Are you okay?” he asks under his breath, darting a scared look at Professor Ambrose before looking back at me. I nod, my temper high, as I reach into my bag to grab my laptop, slamming it on my desk as the stupid professor starts talking to the class. I don’t miss the lethal look the professor shoots my way at making too much noise, and the urge to flip him off is strong.
“Bastard,” I grumble under my breath, glaring back at him when he moves to the whiteboard and starts writing what we are learning for the day. Adam chokes a little when he hears me, his eyes wide in shock, but a devious smile crosses his face as he nods in agreement.
“Page four hundred and thirty-one,” the professor snaps, clicking a pen he’s holding in his hand in rapid succession. He waits impatiently for the students to get their tablets, books, and computers to the correct page before he finally starts talking again.
I glance at the title of the lesson and snort a little when I see rare and extinct Fae typed in bold letters at the top of my screen. Atlas thinks I need to be in this class? I was literally raised by one of the most rare Fae and his wife, who was thought to be an extinct race.
“Miss Covington, do you care to answer the question since you find it so humorous?” Professor Ambrose grinds out, making me look up from my computer to find him glaring daggers at me. Damn, this man is the very definition of resting bitch face. If looks could kill, I’d probably be dead right now. I look past him to the question he wrote on the board, where the words ‘Who are the rarest Fae living?’ are written in perfect cursive. I nod, keeping my cool and trying not to sound like a bitch as I answer his question.
“The rarest in current history is a Ractori Elementalist. Before that it was the Reaper and Kraken shifters,” I answer in a bored tone, leaning back in my chair as Professor Ambrose’s lips thin in frustration.
“That”s correct,” he finally mutters, just as a boy in the front row raises his hand.
“I thought the Ractori line was extinct?” he says before the professor calls on him, earning himself a scowl as Professor Ambrose shakes his head.
“They were thought to be, but recent events have proven otherwise. Can anyone tell me why the Ractori were hunted until they were practically extinct?” he asks, looking around the room. His eyes skim over me like I don”t exist as Adam raises his hand.
“It started when a Ractori Elementalist attempted to gain control of the Fae world, sparking a war among the different races of Fae. The Ractori were hunted down after that simply because of the fear the Fae world held of them. Innocent and guilty Ractori were killed in mass numbers until they were gone. After that, Reapers…” Adam hesitates and looks over at me before he continues. “Took control; their magic unmatched since the Ractori had been wiped out. They implemented the Fae council to keep the peace, which is still in use today.”
“With a Reaper still at the head of the council,” Ambrose clips with a nod of approval. “And the Ractori?” he asks, still looking at Adam.
“There have been three noted cases in which the Fae Council has released information about a Ractori being alive today. There is a current project to help integrate them back into society,” Adam says softly, wincing nervously as the professor stares at him.
“That is correct. Mr. Young, right?” Ambrose asks, and Adam nods, earning a pleased grunt from the grumpy man standing in front of us. “It”s nice to have students who know what they are talking about,” he mutters, shooting a pointed look at the boy who thought the Ractori were extinct, making him sink low in his chair. “Moving on. Who can tell me the elements a Ractori can control?”
The class moves at a glacial pace; the students sit on the edge of their seats in fear that the professor might call on them. This is not a healthy learning environment, but I have discovered a few things I don’t think even my family knows about Ractori, which makes me wonder who the fuck Professor Ambrose is. I’ve tried to pick up on his magic signature, but he has everything locked up tight. All I can tell is that whatever he is, he’s powerful. I can practically taste his magic wafting in the air. After what feels like a lifetime, Professor Ambrose dismisses the class, and I heave a relieved sigh.
“Thank God,” I rasp, cringing when my voice cracks. Fuck, I need a drink; my throat is dry, and my voice will only get worse from here on out.
“I thought you were about to get kicked out of the class! Professor Ambrose is a hardass, but he must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed or something,” Adam comments, standing and packing his books into his simple backpack with military precision before applying some hand sanitizer.
“Yeah. Must have,” I whisper, shooting the professor a look over my shoulder and tensing when I find him glaring at me, brown eyes narrowed, beautiful face pinched in anger as I leave the classroom.