Strength of Desire (Vesperwood Academy: Incubus #2)

15. Noah

15

NOAH

I headed straight for the ballroom, knowing Isaac was more likely to be there than in his study. He didn’t celebrate Imbolc himself, but he would make an appearance to show his support. He’d probably want to keep an eye on things too. I’d heard they’d found a way to build the bonfire inside, and I doubted Isaac wanted that to happen unsupervised.

The sounds of the party spilled out into the hallway as I neared the ballroom—voices talking and laughing, the occasional shriek of joy. Delicious smells drifted out as well, roasted meat, fresh-baked bread, and savory herbs perfuming the air. And below all that, the scent of woodsmoke.

I stopped just inside the ballroom, taking in the scene. The sconces along the walls had all been lit, tall white candles casting their golden light upon the frescoes and tapestries. Despite the fact that Imbolc was supposed to represent the return of spring, someone had hung garlands of evergreen boughs beneath each high window, as though it were Yule instead.

Two students were playing a Celtic harp and fiddle in the corner closest to me, and a group of students and professors danced a swirling, spiral dance in front of them on the parquet floors. I could hardly hear the music over the din of the crowd.

Long trestle tables had been lined up end to end on the left side of the room, piled high with a feast that showed no signs of slowing down. Students and professors rubbed elbows together under the light of the candelabras in the center of each table. People chattered and laughed over china plates of food and drink in crystal goblets.

On either side of each candelabra stood dolls made of straw. Conical bases represented dresses, with bent and bound strands folded and braided to make the head and arms. The kind of thing that would have looked creepy, tucked away in an old basement, but seemed charming in this context.

And in the center of the room burned a giant bonfire, lighting up the space with its ruddy glow. I walked towards it, groups of students surging and parting in front of me. There were real logs at the base of it, surrounded by a circle of salt with symbols I couldn’t interpret drawn into it. A foot beyond that lay a second circle, this one of stones and cut flowers

Sparks popped from the logs and flew up and out, but any that reached as far as the salt circle disappeared in mid air. The ones that traveled up followed the smoke billowing from the flames, twining together as they sought…I squinted. Were those stars up there?

Dangling from the roof, a circle of Brigid’s crosses hemmed in the smoke and sparks, channeling them into an ever smaller stream that exited the ballroom through a hole in the ceiling. Which made no sense. The ballroom ceiling was tall enough that it reached the bottom of the third floor, but there were still two more floors before you reached the roof, three if you counted the attics. So how the hell could the smoke be disappearing into the night sky?

I shook my head in amazement. Beyond my pay grade.

I glimpsed Cory to my right, standing in a circle with his friends. Ash seemed to be telling some story that had everyone laughing—everyone but Cory, that was. He seemed to sense my gaze, because as I looked at him, his eyes met mine, and I felt another jolt of electricity shoot through me.

His eyes widened. I watched him take a deep breath. Saw his lips part, like he was about to speak—but he said nothing.

Was he still thinking about that night on the roof, like I was? The memory of his body in my arms, warm and shaking, haunted me. The fear I’d felt, when I’d seen him sliding down the roof, still gripped my heart. I’d been terrified at the thought of losing him. I still was.

I hadn’t waited a second before jumping after him, and the relief I’d felt when I’d held him against me, safe and sound, was stronger even than the desire that always coursed through my veins when he was near.

I could still see the fear in his eyes as we’d inched our way along the roof to the ladder. He’d been on the edge of panic, the whites of his eyes wide and round as we’d shuffled along, the snow making the roof tiles slick under our hands. But he’d trusted me.

‘ You could have let me fall .’

That’s what he’d said, when we reached the door and safety. He honestly thought I might have just let him go. That realization had hurt like a stab to the gut.

I was trying to keep him at arm’s length, trying to cover up my desire for him—and fear of him. But all I’d done was convince him I hated him. When the semester began, I would have thought that was a good thing. But now?

I didn’t have a good answer for that anymore. I didn’t have any answers at all.

I shook my head and moved on, losing his group in the crowd. I had more important things on my mind tonight. I didn’t have time to worry about whatever that kid was doing to my head.

I caught sight of Isaac on the far wall, talking to Nat and Teresa, and, eventually, I made my way through the crowd to join them. I broke into their conversation without preamble.

“I need to talk to you,” I told Isaac. I shot a glance at Nat and Teresa. “Alone.”

Nat’s eyes widened, and I knew she was going to ask me about this later. Teresa cocked her head to the side and studied me for a moment.

“Now?” she said, her voice pleasant, but carrying an edge of suspicion.

“Now,” I said flatly.

Isaac nodded, and said graciously to Nat and Teresa, “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I will rejoin you later. Such an interesting discussion about horoplexic anodes.”

Teresa’s eyes narrowed for a moment, but Nat touched her wrist and pulled her away, heading back towards the bonfire. Isaac turned to me. No one was close to us, but he lowered his voice anyway.

“I assume this is important, for you to so flagrantly interrupt the conversation. Teresa and Natatlia won’t forget that.”

“It is,” I said, “and it’s fine. I have a cover story. By tomorrow morning, the whole school will know that an unknown trio of students were shooting arrows at Sheridan’s windows this evening. I told Sheridan I would do damage control, which explains why I’m talking to you so urgently.”

Isaac nodded. “I’m assuming this group of students is not, in fact, unknown to you?”

“They’re not. Because they don’t exist.”

“So you were shooting arrows at Sheridan’s windows.”

“Well, I needed a cover story for breaking into his rooms.”

“You broke into—” Isaac ran a hand across his face wearily. “I did tell you to be discreet. I know I did.”

“I needed a way to get in there,” I protested. “And his room isn’t well-placed for sneaking. It was easier to just break in.”

“And why, exactly, did you feel the need to search his rooms?”

“Because you told me to spy on him,” I said. Isaac gave me a hard stare, and I realized I’d raised my voice. With effort, I lowered it again. “I talked to all of them first, but no one said anything suspicious, unless you count Hans getting so flustered he almost confessed to the Kennedy assassination. So I thought I’d search their quarters, see if I found anything interesting there.”

Isaac raised his eyes to the ceiling. “I suppose this is what I get for not being more specific. So you broke into Sheridan’s rooms and single-handedly added to the rumors of danger swirling around this school. Did you find anything to make those rumors worthwhile?”

“I did,” I said, dropping my voice even lower. “Sheridan had one of Argus’s coins in his living room.”

Isaac’s eyes snapped back to me. “You’re sure?”

“Positive,” I said. “You know what that means.”

He pressed his lips together, then shook his head once. “Unfortunately, I don’t. And neither do you.”

“You can’t mean that.” I stared at Isaac in disbelief. “Sheridan is working for Argus. There’s no other explanation.”

“There are plenty of other explanations,” Isaac countered. “Sheridan works primarily on arcane magic. He might have picked the coin up at some point in his travels and kept it for study. He might not even know what it means. Or perhaps he does, and he found the coin on the grounds, and is leading a parallel investigation.”

“When I gave him my story about students shooting at his room, he asked if I really thought it was just students. He seems to think someone is after him. He wasn’t in his rooms when the moraghin attacked, but in the woods near the gym instead. He thinks the moraghin might have been sent for him.”

“Interesting,” Isaac said, one eyebrow just barely rising.

“He seemed legitimately scared,” I said. “Which makes sense, if he’s working with Argus. You know how he treats his lackeys.”

“You’re not working for Argus,” Isaac said, “and I trust you’re not arrogant enough to pretend you’re not scared right now. Sheridan may be in the same boat. If he knows what the coin means, and just who he’s investigating—”

“He’s not investigating, he’s working to free Argus from the dreamworld and give him free rein to enslave humanity. He’s dangerous , Isaac,” I growled. “We have to question him, immediately. I don’t know if the moraghin were after him, or if he’s just saying that to throw us off the scent, but the fact is, they broke through the wards, and Sheridan is a wardkeeper. Sheridan was the last one to make it to the ward room after the alarm sounded. Sheridan has that coin in his possession. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s involved in all of this.”

“Possibly involved,” Isaac said. His voice was soothing, almost the tone he used when putting me in one of his trances. “I agree that we need to look at him closely. But I will not accuse one of my staff members of working for Argus without proof. Witches take such allegations very seriously. I certainly won’t subject him to the kind of…treatment…that you’d like to give him without further evidence.”

“He’s working against us. And the longer you wait, the more damage he’ll do.”

“I understand that you feel that way. I’ll certainly look more closely at Sheridan’s actions this past year. Now that we have a new lead, I expect we’ll gain even more information soon.”

“You’re not taking this seriously enough,” I hissed. “Argus could be on the brink of attack. The moraghin might simply have been sent to test our defenses. And you want to sit around and gather more information?” I invested those last words with all the scorn I felt.

“I assure you, I take the safety of everyone at Vesperwood very seriously. I know what Argus is capable of.”

“Do you?” I spat. “Do you really?” My hands had curled into fists of their own accord.

“I know what you were like when I found you,” Isaac returned. “I have not forgotten that.”

I wanted to scream.

“You promised me,” I said, forcing my voice low. “We were fighting the same battle, you said. Work with you—work for you—and I’d have a better chance of killing Argus than I ever would alone. All these years of waiting, of trusting you, and we finally have a chance to take him down, and you tell me to wait again?”

“Noah,” Isaac said, and there was power in the way he said my name. I wanted to look away, to yell or punch something. But I couldn’t move. “I understand that you’re upset. You have reason to be. I understand that you’re suspicious. You have reason to be. I understand that you wish to act. God knows your past gives you reason for that. I understand.”

His gaze held me pinned.

“But I can’t run this school based on your gut feelings,” he continued. “Nor can I let you run off half-cocked with free rein to beat what you believe to be the truth out of Sheridan.”

“I don’t want—” I began, before realizing that was exactly what I wanted to do.

“As for an imminent attack,” Isaac continued, “I will step up surveillance for external and internal threats. You have my word. And I will question Sheridan further, you have my word on that as well. But Argus isn’t one for direct attacks, if he can avoid them. You know that.”

“He’s direct enough when he wants to be,” I said. The wound on my chest was burning. I flexed my fingers, trying to release some of the energy trapped in my body.

“Give me a day,” Isaac said. I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off. “That’s an order, not a request. We’ll talk tomorrow evening, and we’ll discuss next steps.”

“I really don’t think—”

“Tomorrow,” he said, and I could tell from his tone he wouldn’t say any more.

I spun around and stalked off. I needed to get away. Away from Isaac and his calls for restraint. Away from Sheridan and the temptation to beat answers out of him. Away from Vesperwood entirely.

Violence would feel good in the short run, but would make things more complicated in the long run. I was going to explode if I didn’t do something, though. There was only one other outlet for my energy that I could think of, and it was in Point Claudette.