36. Ivy
36
IVY
“Well done, indeed,” Blackthorn repeats, offering me his hand.
I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. My legs feel like jelly, and my entire body throbs with the aftermath of channelling that much power. But we’re alive. We stopped Life. We saved... everything.
“The temple?” I ask, my voice rough.
“Improving,” he says. “The ley lines are realigning themselves. It will take time, but the damage can be repaired. This forest and everything in it is nothing short of powerful.”
I look around, taking in our surroundings. We’re back on MistHallow’s grounds, the mist curling around our ankles like curious cats. The guys are sprawled in various states of consciousness on the damp grass.
“They need medical attention,” I say, watching Torin try and fail to sit up.
“Already arranged.” He gestures, and several figures emerge from the mist - healers, I assume, given their focused expressions and glowing hands.
“Professor,” I start, but he holds up a hand.
“Rest first. We have much to discuss, but it can wait until you’re all recovered.”
I want to argue, but exhaustion hits me like a tidal wave. The healers approach, their energy gentle but insistent. One of them guides me to sit on a nearby bench.
“The ritual?” I ask as healing magick seeps into my battered body.
“Completely dismantled so far as we can tell,” Blackthorn assures me.
I manage a weak laugh that turns into a cough. “Well, that’s good. I think.”
He studies me with those ancient eyes. “Focus on healing, Miss Hammond. We can talk more later.”
The healer working on me clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “Multiple metaphysical fractures, severe energy depletion, temporal displacement strain...” she mutters. “What exactly are you and what were you doing?”
“Have you got a year?” I ask sarcastically, earning another tut from her. “Let’s just say I’m the centre of the universe, and I’ll live.”
Bram snorts. “Think quite highly of yourself, don’t you?”
“Says you, oh god of… whatever the hell you are.”
“Speaking of which,” Tate adds. “Do we want to know what happened to Morrigan?”
“Maybe not yet,” I mutter. “One thing at a time.”
The last thing I hear before exhaustion claims me is Torin’s grumble, but I know they are okay so that I can sleep.
I wake to weak sunlight streaming through tall windows and the smell of old books. I’m in a massive four-poster bed, the sheets softer than anything I’ve ever felt. The room around me is a curious blend of ancient and modern.
“Welcome back,” a familiar voice says.
I turn my head to see Vex lounging in a chair by the bed, his feet propped up on an antique table that probably costs more than my entire apartment.
“How long?” I ask, my throat dry.
He gets up to hand me a bottle of water. “Three days. The others woke up yesterday.”
I bolt upright, spilling water everywhere. “Three days? Where are they? Are they okay?”
“Relax. They’re fine. Recovering in their own rooms. Blackthorn insisted on keeping you all separated until the initial healing was complete. Something about your combined power being too unstable.”
“And Lila?”
“Stable. Better, actually, now that Life’s influence is completely gone.” He pauses. “She’s been asking for you.”
My heart clenches. “I’m not sure she should see me yet.”
“That’s not your decision to make,” he says firmly. “But it can wait until you’re stronger.”
I nod, sinking back into the pillows. Everything aches, but in a distant way, like my body is remembering pain rather than actively experiencing it.
“So,” Vex says after a moment, “want to tell me what it feels like to be a god?”
I throw a pillow at his head. He dodges, laughing.
“Not a god,” I mutter. “Just different.”
“Different enough to need a new school,” he says casually.
I look at him sharply. “Meaning?”
“You can’t kid a kidder, little shifter. I know you want to go here. Who wouldn’t? I’m pretty sure Blackthorn will give you entry based on your, well, whatever you want to call it. The illustrious Headmaster from Thornfield is in his office right now.”
“Really?” I’ve never even seen Thornfield’s Headmaster. No one has, as far as I know. “Who is it?”
He rolls his eyes. “You will never guess in a million years.”
“Try me because I’ve lived a million years in the last few months; I think I can place an accurate guess. Swann?”
“Ooh, got it in one.”
“Fucker. Why did he skulk about like he was just some professor?”
Vex shrugs. “Beats me. But who gives a shit? You have outgrown Thornfield, and we all know it.”
I study him and notice the change in him. He is no less dangerous, no less sarcastic and annoying, but it’s like he’s levelled up. I like that for him. He is being challenged, and that is what Tate needs as well. All of us, really. Especially now.
“And the guys?”
“Blackthorn will hardly split up the fabulous four. Besides, having more Fae here will be good for his rep, not to mention he is very intrigued by Tate’s ancestral power boost and Torin’s explosive mage power. You know, seeing as he is a vampire mage, too.”
“He is?” I blink. “That explains… a lot.”
We fall into an easy silence, and I soak in the energy around me. MistHallow feels right in a way Thornfield never did. The energy here resonates with whatever I’ve become. And after everything that’s happened...
“Does Swann know?” I ask. “About what happened? What we are now?”
“Let’s just say he’s been more involved than anyone realised.” Vex’s expression turns serious. “There’s a lot going on behind the scenes that’s only now coming to light.”
I groan, pulling the covers over my head. “More secrets. Perfect.”
“Hey, at least these ones might work in your favour.” He pats the blanket lump that is me. “Get some rest. Blackthorn wants to talk to all of you once you’re stronger.”
Sticking my head out from under the covers, I stick my middle finger up at him, but I’m smiling. Maybe this is exactly what we need - a fresh start somewhere that understands what we’ve become.
“Leave now so I can shower, at least.”
“See you around, little shifter,” he says and snaps his fingers, leaving in a flash of blue magick.
After a much-needed shower and change of clothes, I leave the room and find myself in a hallway filled with students. Some give me curious stares, others ignore me completely. I ask one of them to direct me to Blackthorn’s office. I think he is some kind of wolf shifter, although not a regular kind. He has power. An alpha in the making, perhaps?
“There’s been a lot of talk about you,” he says with a smile that seems genuine.
“Yeah? All good, I hope?” I joke.
He snickers. “Good enough. You will fit in well here, I think. Power is attracted to power, and everyone here has power.”
“So I see,” I murmur.
The corridors of MistHallow hum with ancient magick, and I feel at home here. I feel a pang for Ramsey and Josh, and I wonder if there is room for them here as well. If they even want to make the transfer.
The wolf shifter, whose name I didn’t get, leaves me outside Blackthorn’s office, and I knock, my palms sweating suddenly with nerves. I guess some things will never change.
“Enter!” he calls out, and I push open the massive door.
Blackthorn is behind a massive desk, and Professor Swann stands by the window. It is jarring to see him in this context.
“Miss Hammond,” Blackthorn gestures to a chair. “Please, sit.”
“Ivy,” Swann turns from the window, and I shudder. Still just as creepy as always. “You’ve certainly made things interesting.”
“That’s one way to put it,” I mutter, taking the offered seat. “Sir.”
He waves off the formality. “I think we’re well past that. Though I do owe you an explanation.”
“Several, I’d imagine,” I say dryly.
“The Syndicate needs leadership,” he says, getting straight to the point. “With Death’s passing on the mantle and subsequent events, there’s been uncertainty about its future amongst the ranks.”
“Well, get right down to it, why don’t you,” I mutter.
He gives me a sharp glare.
I straighten in my chair and fix him with a level stare, eager to share my thoughts on this now that the opportunity has struck. “The Syndicate serves a purpose. It removes the worst of the supernatural world.”
“And now?” Swann prompts. “You are now Death, as it were. You are the head of this organisation.”
“I’m aware, although I hadn’t had too much time to think about it, my initial thoughts are that now it’s even more important. We’re not just eliminating those who slip through the cracks of justice, we’re giving them a chance at redemption through rebirth.”
Swann nods approvingly, his black eyes lighting up in that creepy, creepy way that makes me shudder down to my soul. “That’s what we hoped you’d say. There are many employees relying on this organisation.”
“Including you,” I say dryly.
He inclines his head, but doesn’t grace me with an answer. He doesn’t have to. I know the score.
Swann straightens from his position by the window. “I agree with your vision for The Syndicate, Ivy. It’s time for evolution, not revolution. The organisation will support your leadership.”
“I should fucking hope so. We leave The Resistance alone. They have their thing to do, and it’s nothing to do with us. That is a hill I will die on…” I give them both a sickly sweet smile, “… and in case you haven’t noticed, I can’t die.”
Swann looks like he wants to argue but finally, he nods. “Agreed.”
“Now,” Blackthorn says, opening a drawer in his desk, “there’s the matter of your education to discuss.” He pulls out several papers. “As much as Thornfield wants to keep hold of you, I believe you will be better suited to the protection and education MistHallow can provide.”
I glance at Swann. He grimaces but says nothing. He can’t. He has no rule over my life.
I pick up the formal acceptance letter and prospectus and stare at them for a moment. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” Blackthorn confirms with a slight smile. “MistHallow would be honoured to have you. All of you.”
I nod, knowing I’m exactly where I need to be. Hopefully, the guys will agree.