Chapter 6 Elodie
SIX
ELODIE
Nerves threaten to get the better of me as I exit the closet in the first clothes I could find.
Ocean’s. I hope she doesn’t mind. I know I’ll owe her again, but like hell am I standing before The Sanctum in my uniform.
All that does is serve to remind everyone that they have superiority over me.
I’d rather pay my friend back than give them a single ounce of more control over me.
The yoga pants are an inch too short, but the cream sweater is like a safety blanket. The socks, however, are definitely not the same shade of black, but that’s a problem for later.
Professor Morton stares at me expectantly as I rake my damp hair back off my face into a ponytail. “Time is of the essence, Miss Blackwood,” she states, giving me a pointed look, and I know my tight smile falls short.
I don’t bother to mumble an apology. It’s not like she’s expecting one.
“Are you not hearing me?” Rion hisses from his spot by the door. His arms are folded over his chest as his nostrils flare. Not at me; at her.
“I’ve told you more than once now, Rion. It’s not up to you, and it’s not up to me. You know that.”
I roll my eyes at their bickering, which continues to rise in intensity with each back and forth between them. It’s all I’ve heard since I darted into the closet to get dressed before she could try to take me to The Sanctum in just a towel.
“It’s fine, Rion. I’m fine. It’s all fine.” Can anything really be that fine if you have to say it three times? I don’t think so, and neither does he if the shake of his head is any indication, the veins at his temples protruding with his barely contained frustration.
“Anything to do with The Sanctum is far from fine. Even she knows it,” he mumbles, nodding his head toward Professor Morton as he slips his cell phone from his pocket.
“Do I need to speak with Professor Drayker?” She cocks a brow at him as I frown in confusion at his frozen state. The tick to his jaw is undeniable, just like the white of his knuckles as he grinds his teeth and glares at the professor in the room.
“That won’t be necessary. She is no longer my guardian. But, if you just let me reach out to Kael, I—”
“How about you do that while I take her with me,” Morton interjects, cutting the distance between us with her hand stretched in my direction, and I gape in surprise as Rion’s eyes widen comically.
“No, I—”
Before he can say another word, I feel Morton’s fingers curl around my upper arm just as my dorm room disappears.
Nausea churns in my stomach as my surroundings swiftly shift. Her hand is gone a moment later and I keel forward, hands braced on my knees as I hold back a dry heave.
“What the hell was that?” I mutter once there’s less of a chance that I’m going to puke.
She sighs, and I imagine there’s an eye roll in there too, but I’m not prepared to lift my head just yet. “Transitioning. He was driveling on and it was growing tiresome,” she states, like that’s the whole reason I feel like I’m dying right now.
Taking a deep breath through my nose, I exhale slowly, repeating the motion a few more times before I dare to stand tall again. The room tilts slightly, but it’s a lot more bearable. My brows knit together when all I see is a narrow corridor with three oak doors spread down the length of it.
“Where are we now?” I ask, bypassing the opportunity to thank her for showing me a little grace and patience.
“The Sanctum, of course. Carry on through there,” she commands, waving her hand toward the farthest door, and I nod, but don’t move.
“Where are you going?” I ask when she takes a backward step, and her cheeks pale.
“Oh, I’m not staying.” The fear in her eyes is evident before she disappears into thin air, leaving me to deal with the insanity that is The Sanctum alone.
Maybe Rion was right. It’s possible that it’s not fine. Perhaps I should have waited for Kael—no, it definitely can’t be that bad. I refuse to believe it.
With that reminder, I roll my shoulders back and stand tall. I refuse to let the assholes on the other side of that door see me as weak. Well, weaker than I’m sure they already think I am.
Standing here is only going to delay the inevitable.
This isn’t the first time I’ve had to face the consequences of my actions, and it’s technically not the first time The Sanctum has decided the outcome.
Another slap on the wrist and a trip back to The Vale feels like nothing in the grand scheme of things, especially when it’s now clear I have no alternative. I’ll go willingly.
If they’re nice, I might even apologize for running to begin with.
Reaching the door standing between me and my punishment, I find it sits slightly ajar. I steel my spine as I take a deep breath and nudge it open before I can change my mind.
It goes against every fiber inside of me not to run; the desire is real, just like it has been since the moment I arrived. Now, if this is going to be my new home, I have to start treating it as such, which means there is no more running.
My gut churns as the room comes into view, and I immediately doubt my strength as I come face to face with the five members of The Sanctum. Before I melt under their intense stares, I glance around the small room as I give myself a moment to steady my breathing.
The entire space is whitewashed, floor included, except for a small black X painted on the floor facing the long wooden table where they sit. There are no windows and the lack of natural light is noticeable. It’s as if the air is being sucked from my lungs.
Gulping, I wordlessly move to the mark on the floor, silently assuming it’s meant for me before I turn my attention to the five assholes hellbent on upheaving my life.
They’re sitting in the exact same order as they were the last time I saw them, only that time, I had stood dead center in what looked like a courtroom as opposed to this barren room.
The redhead is on the end; Anya, the viper. I didn’t like her the first time I saw her. Knowing that she’s also Willow’s mother makes me hate her even more. Her nose is tipped up in distaste, her lips pursed with a sourness I don’t have the energy to entertain.
Instead, I move down the line, spying the dark-haired ass who I think is called Toman.
I remember him being the most hellbent on doing everything by the book.
His fingers are laced together on the table, his gaze set on mine, but his features give nothing away.
I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not, but regardless, I don’t linger on him too long.
Turning my attention to the opposite end of the table, I could shrivel up and die under the daggers of Cordelia.
Her stare is icier than her silvery hair as she steeples her deep red nails along the wood.
She’s imagining me dead. I can feel it. It sends a shiver down my spine.
The last time I saw her, she was collected and reserved, but it seems as though things have changed since then.
I run my tongue over my bottom lip as I move along the line up to where the blond-haired guy sits.
Rikard. I didn’t like him last time, either, and that fact hasn’t changed.
It’s the slight curl to his upper lip and the way his eyes are devoid of emotion as he peers into mine, judging me without my approval.
Finally, my attention is drawn to the man sitting at the center, Saken.
His peppered hair now looks even grayer.
How much time has actually passed? He looks tired and inconvenienced by being here, but it wasn’t me who called this meeting.
I might be the issue, but I can’t bring myself to accept that it’s entirely my fault.
I make sure to keep my hands relaxed at my sides as I clear my throat, but before I can open my mouth, Saken pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and speaks. “Care to share what you did yesterday?”
Straight to it then. No hello, no how are you, no wondering how I’m settling in.
Perfect.
Great.
“I had such a busy day.” My attempt at playing coy is embarrassing, but I’d rather play dumb and hope for the best than hand myself over on a silver platter.
“You were taken to the medical center at exactly eleven seventeen,” Toman states, peering down at a piece of paper in front of him.
“You remained unconscious for three hours and twenty-one minutes before waking. A nurse spotted you at the door of your assigned room and arranged for an escort to take you to the bathroom, but you never returned. Instead, the escort was found unconscious in the bathroom, and a bloody trail dotted across the hallway to the portal entry and exit, where two security guards were also attacked. Does that sound familiar?” he asks, turning his questioning stare my way.
If they’re going to be that specific, there’s no point in me denying it. It would just be a waste of my breath, so I don’t bother saying anything at all.
“Where were you heading, Miss Blackwood?” Rikard asks, taking my silence as confirmation, and I shrug.
“Home.” The word feels hollow on my tongue.
“The Vale is your home now,” Anya snaps, her lips twisting with growing distaste, and I sigh, my fingers flexing at my sides.
“I know.”
She cocks a brow at me. “Are you sure? You didn’t seem to yesterday.”
“A lot has happened since then,” I retort, the smile on my face thin and fake.
“So it seems,” Cordelia muses, tapping at her chin, deep in thought.
“Have your magical abilities come to fruition?” Saken asks, and I shake my head, making sure to pinch my eyebrows together in confusion. Not too much, just enough.
“No.”
I feel all five sets of eyes assess me, and with each passing breath, my heart pulses with panic.
“To ensure you’re not lying, we must see for ourselves,” Anya states, a smile drawing across her face. It’s sinister, laced with the promise of pain, and the nausea I felt earlier returns.
“What does that mean?” I ask, despite how dry my throat now feels, but no one utters a word in response.
Movement captures my attention, but it’s too late for me to react before glass darts down from the ceiling right in front of me.
Riddled with terror, I spin on the spot to see that it goes all the way around me, trapping me in place.
My breaths come in short, sharp bursts as I turn back to The Sanctum with wide, pleading eyes.
“Please, I don’t—”
My plea is cut short as a thud vibrates from behind me.
Despite the fear taking root inside me, I turn to see what it could be, only to find a thin bed propped vertically, trapped in the glass cage with me.
Spinning back to those in charge, my lips part, ready to plead my case once again, when the bite of leather encases my wrists and draws me back a step.
A yelp tears from my throat, croaking at the end as unshed tears prick the back of my eyelids. I don’t manage two whole breaths before further bindings lock into place around my ankles, my waist, and my throat. I hate that one the most.
Small spaces are not my friend.
Closing my eyes, I pretend as if it’s on purpose and nothing to do with the fact that my vision is blurring with horror.
“Please,” I whisper, too ashamed to open my eyes.
My plea goes unheard as pain erupts through my body from head to toe, stealing my next breath. My hands ball at my sides, my toes curl beneath me, and my jaw locks wide open, a muted scream tearing from my lungs.
Fighting it is impossible, but I still try. I’m scared to pass out and leave myself vulnerable in their hands again. Nothing good comes from it, but the burning sensation that spreads through my body is unbearable and I don’t stand a chance.
I can’t speak, I can’t plead, I can’t help myself. All I can do is listen and feel.
The sound of scraping chairs cuts through the room, but it’s not enough to pry my eyes back open as the pain continues to burn through my body from head to toe.
“Turn that thing up a notch.” Saken’s voice floods me, intensifying the pain already crippling me.
“And prepare all supernaturals to be of assistance. I want to ensure we attempt to trigger her abilities with anyone and everyone. Reach out to all contacts necessary, I want one of each known type of supernatural here immediately.”
Nausea turns to burning bile at the back of my throat as my body goes limp and my mind starts to shut down.
“I want no stone left unturned,” Cordelia adds a moment before the pain reaches new heights and I succumb to the deep, dark shadows that consume me.