22. Ambrose
Chapter 22
Ambrose
THURSDAY
H er kiss was almost as sweet as I imagined her blood tasting. The sensation of Isla’s lips had lingered on mine when I got back to my room last night. I didn’t even smoke any opium. Instead, I’d sprawled on my chaise so I could savor her as long as she stayed on my tongue.
Her response had been delicious, but it hadn’t been the right time, so I exercised every ounce of my self-control to keep from stripping her and burying myself inside of her right there in the woods. Plus, we had an audience. I did many things, but putting a partner on display without their permission wasn't one of them. Us fae did have standards.
What was Isla thinking about our moment? Would she try to avoid me in the days to come? A game of back and forth could be fun if played correctly.
“Ambrose!” a thunderous voice called out, rudely interrupting my thoughts of Isla.
Falke was pushing his way into my classroom, a serious scowl on his face. His long hair was tied back in braids, and there was blood on his hands.
“Kian?” I asked, standing up with real concern as the centaur got closer.
“The conservatory is going into another lockdown. We have another body, and Thatcher won’t be able to sweep it under the rug.”
“Where?” I asked, already stalking around my desk and out the door.
We hurried out of the building just as magick filled the air. Students stopped in place, watching the sky, their mouths agape, as a glimmering shield of red and black created a dome over the entire campus.
This was fucking bad.
Thankfully, the smoky haze meant it wasn’t the full defensive shield, just one to keep us all inside. Thatcher was the only person on campus that could trigger that shield. What the hell happened with this other student?!
Magickally enhanced voices yelled out, ordering students to report to their dorms as the buildings would lock themselves in ten minutes. There was a moment of stillness which transformed into absolute chaos when people began to rush to safety.
The centaur and I were seemingly in a bubble since everyone gave us a wide berth. I’d normally assume it was our status as professors, but it likely had more to do with the amount of blood still covering Falke. He painted quite the intimidating picture.
Movement from across the quad signaled that we weren’t going to be alone for long. Julian and Bricriu were coming our way. Falke silently arched an eyebrow at the bone fae’s presence, but I didn’t share that restraint.
“I thought all students were reporting to their dorms?” I asked pointedly, staring at Bricriu.
“We need his assistance with the pieces,” Julian replied without missing a beat. His tone was even, purposefully blank.
“Pieces?” My brow furrowed in confusion, but it all made sense when we arrived at the school’s greenhouse.
There was no missing what had happened thanks to the blood flowing down the glass panes. Body parts were scattered along the roof. Even from this distance, I could tell the corpse was incomplete, same as the first. Bricriu made more sense now.
“There’s no head,” I said, looking at the others. “The first one had theirs.”
Falke nodded in agreement. “But it was disfigured enough that we couldn’t identify the student.”
Luckily, the greenhouse had been cleared of students. Only the herbology professor was inside, wringing her hands as we approached.
“Professor Belvedere,” Julian addressed her softly. “We will look into this. There is no need to stay around.”
“Oh, Bricriu, thank the goddess. At least you’re accounted for.” She waved her hands around, the trembling in her fingers impossible to miss. “I was worried when you didn’t show up this morning.”
“President Thatcher wanted to speak with me,” Bricriu replied after a moment, his voice carefully blank. He shifted from foot to foot, which betrayed some kind of discomfort. Was it the matter of the dean, or was he simply uncomfortable under the weight of her concern? Bricriu was used to disdain being directed at him, not genuine interest from someone who cared.
She kept talking without acknowledging his reply. “I had another missing student this morning. Could it be?—”
“Who?” Falke asked her pointedly. He hated dealing with ramblings.
“Isla Hallowes.”
Ice filled my veins.
It didn’t escape my notice that I wasn’t the only one who reacted to that information. Bricriu stilled, and Julian’s gaze immediately shot up to the roof as if he could discern whose remains were scattered there.
Falke was just about to say something when Bricriu released his illusion magick, slipping off his high fae form. Gray smoke blurred his form for a few seconds before it faded to reveal what he really looked like. Bones gently knocked together when he reached up to take off his glasses, uncovering pale purple eyes that were fixed on the roof.
The temp herbology professor paled, and the thought crossed my mind that she might pass out. Fortunately, she seemed to grab some semblance of control, shaking herself before murmuring something about checking on students as she rushed away from us.
Purple eyes flicked over to her general direction before he walked inside, presumably heading for the ladder to the roof.
“Professor Falke,” a quiet voice called out behind us, and we all turned to face the unexpected addition to our group.
Part of the ice inside of me cracked once I recognized him as one of Isla’s friends. Wells Hawthorne, the one I had pulled Isla away from yesterday. Did she mention our kiss to him, this juvenile boy who sought her attention? Selfishly, I wanted to know.
“Hawthorne, students should be reporting to their dorms. The buildings will be locked in just a few minutes,” Falke told him in a harsh dismissal.
The witch swallowed hard, but he didn’t back down. His gaze flicked up to the tall fae that was now standing on top of the greenhouse looking down at us.
“It can’t be Isla.” Wells kept on, not backing down when all of us paid him our full attention. “She’s been occupied since yesterday.”
“Occupied? What do you mean?” I crooned.
“How certain of that are you?” Julian demanded at the same time.
Both of us stepped toward him, or at least we tried to. Falke shoved himself in our way. “Where is she?” he asked, shooting us a pointed stare silently willing us to get our reactions under control.
“I don’t know exactly where she is right now,” Wells said with a hint of uncertainty.
What the hell is he playing at? Does he think this is some kind of game?!
“Then how—” Bricriu called down.
“But she’s with an incubus in the middle of a rut,” he continued, words pouring from him in a rush. “The only way she’d be up there is if he were up there too.”
Falke started cursing. Julian’s gaze was clouded by disbelief before it disappeared completely. Bricriu hummed softly, the hollow sound loud in the sudden silence.
Rage filled me until there was nothing but darkness boiling inside. I’d kissed her, tasted her, yet someone else dared to swoop in and claim her before me? The urge to lash out was almost uncontrollable. How dare they take away what was mine? I’d slaughter them.
“I don’t know where he took her, but I guarantee that whoever that is, isn’t her.” He paused for a second, and a hint of magick filled the air before he slowly shook his head. “That’s not her magick.”
“Her magick?” Bricriu asked, beating me to the punch.
The witch’s green eyes flicked between all of us as his body tensed up.
“Isla’s magick is mostly green, with some black. Whoever that is, I can see a lingering bit of purple, but that’s it.”
“A weaver,” I said, my lip curling up in sneer. Weavers were incredibly rare and dangerous. They could see the aura of magick in the world and use those powers however they could imagine. There were really no restraints or limits to a weaver’s power.
Wells nodded sharply, clearly uncomfortable. Much like Briciu’s earlier display, he shifted his weight from foot to foot.
“What parts are missing?” Julian called up to Bricriu, effectively grabbing our attention to focus on the problem at hand.
“Head, right hand, and three left ribs, and the body looks to have been disemboweled a while ago. I’m not sure if the organs were taken by whoever did this or scavengers.”
“What are they doing with all of this?” Julian muttered. He roughly ran his hand through his hair, his curiosity and frustration coming out.
“We should wait— never mind.” I sighed when I noticed that Wells was now gone. How much had he stuck around for? A problem for another time. “Where are the other professors and Thatcher?”
“He’s almost here,” Falke said grimly. “Bricriu, you should go before they see you.”
The fae didn’t reply but in the next second, he was gone. I couldn’t even sense his illusionary magick nearby. How long had he been able to travel like that? Why didn't he use it more often? Before I could fall too deep into contemplating all the secrets Greywood held, I heard approaching footsteps.
“What have you all found out?” Thatcher asked. His posture was calm, showing not an ounce of the stress and concern that most people would feel given the circumstances.
Falke got him up to speed, explaining what we’d found at the greenhouse until Thatcher made a cutting motion with his hand. “There’s no need?—”
“We cannot possibly ignore what has happened this time,” Julian argued. “Students have seen this body, and word will spread like wildfire.”
“Are you attempting to tell me how to do my job?” Thatcher asked Julian, his eyes flashing dangerously with power. Thatcher was an asshole of the highest order, but he was still the dean of the conservatory. Killing him would draw unwanted attention to us, and that was if we were successful in any attempt. As pompous as he was, he was also a very powerful necromancer. Depending on what he threw at us, we could very well lose, then we’d never be able to achieve what we were here to do.
The old vampire remained calm in the face of the president’s threatening tone. “Of course not. I was merely going to suggest we come up with a game plan of what everyone should be telling them. That way, students won’t instigate any trouble, like reaching out to their families. It is, of course, completely your decision since you are in charge here.”
“That I am,” Thatcher preened, disgustingly pleased with Julian’s supposed pandering. God, he was such a fucking idiot. “That’s what I was going to say before you rudely interrupted me. We will say that there’s a wild animal coming onto our grounds to hunt students. I’ll enact a curfew to keep students safe, and we can start tracking down the identities of the victims.”
Falke inclined his head. “A great idea, sir.” His sarcasm was so thick I was surprised he didn’t choke on his words.
Appearing not to notice, Thatcher nodded imperiously to us all. “The three of you are responsible for tracking down the perpetrators. If you don’t manage to find them, that will be on your heads.” He began to walk away, calling over his shoulder for us to clean up, then he was off, probably back to his office.
“One day, I’ll kill him,” I ground out, and Falke let out a deep laugh.
“You might have to fight for that privilege,” he replied darkly.
Julian didn’t reply, his gaze stuck on Thatcher’s retreating figure. Finally, the vampire turned around to face us, and the emptiness in his eyes raised the hair on the back of my head. I wasn’t afraid of him, but I did have a healthy appreciation for other predators, and that was just what Julian was.
“Assess the body then burn it. Same as the first one,” Julian said softly, his voice icy with barely contained rage. “Meet me in the library archives at midnight. We can start going over things then. For now, I will need space so I can get his stench off of me. I need to focus.”
Waves of violence poured from him as he walked away. Every movement was precise and so controlled it looked painful.
Falke sighed and rubbed his face. “Part of me wonders if that was because of Thatcher or because Isla was mentioned. The three of you were instantly on high alert at the prospect of her being the victim.” When I did nothing but silently arch an eyebrow at him, he shook his head, letting the subject go for now. “Are you going to be able to keep a clear mind long enough to go up there?”
“I can compartmentalize,” I told him coolly. “Unfettered rage is a death sentence among the fae. Anger the wrong person, and it could be the last thing you ever do. That lesson is taught very early among the courts.”
Falke just nodded and gestured up to the roof. “Then take care of that while I search the nearby grounds.” He didn’t wait for my reply before trotting off. Everyone had so much audacity today, telling me what to do, but I held tight to my control.
It was taking everything inside of me to act nonchalant. Internally, I was raging, my Unseelie blood craving a target for its maelstrom of emotion.
If I couldn’t get Isla to scream for me, I’d make someone else. Who was this incubus she was with right now? I’d bet it was that roommate of hers, Echo. Someone else claiming her first made me even more determined to claim her. Making her mine was always going to be so damn satisfying but taking her from someone else would be absolutely intoxicating.
Maybe I’d make him watch me fuck her into oblivion. He could see her fall apart under me. Before the end, I’d make sure he would know that he’d never be able to measure up to me. A cold smile filled my face as I loosed my fire magick, setting the entire roof ablaze. I watched the flames dance, imagining the incubus’ body burning instead of the pieces that were there.
The smell of burning flesh was never so sweet.