Chapter 11 Elodie
ELEVEN
ELODIE
Any hope that today was going to kick off with a good start is quickly diminished the moment I step onto the combat field. Professor Drayker’s gaze snaps to mine like a laser in the dead of night, zeroing in on me as I watch a curl form on her lips.
I’m sure that if the ground doesn’t open up for me right here and now, she’s going to put me in it herself with the way she rakes her eyes over me from head to toe. What she’s searching for, I'm not sure, but I don’t think I want to find out.
With Ocean's arm linked through mine and three men hot on my tail, her gaze turns more withering the closer I get. There’s already a mass gathering of students ready for the class, but it’s as if they don’t exist now that she has somewhere to focus her hatred.
“How nice of you to join us, Miss Blackwood,” she snarls as we come to a stop among the other students.
Despite the acid on my tongue, I force myself to refrain, opting to say nothing.
I’m determined to keep my head down and focus, which means no unnecessary drama.
So, instead, I offer a tight smile, which only makes her eyes narrow in agitation.
“Is there a reason we have been deprived of your presence?” she pushes, clearly intent on making a scene as a few students from other sections shift their attention my way.
Instead of rising to the bait, I shake my head with a shrug. Of course there's a reason. Surely, she knows that. She either wants me to say it out loud or she really isn’t privy to any of the facts.
Regardless, she won't be getting it from me, but my silence thankfully seems to encourage her to move on. Her shoulders grow more tense and she shakes her head, her lips twisting as she glances around the field at everybody in attendance before that withering look returns to me.
“Since we have a full class today, for the first time in a while, I think we should make sure we're all up to standards with our stamina.” She bites back a delighted grin as a groan ripples through the crowd, and I sense a couple of glares being aimed my way.
“Each of you grab a weighted vest. We can do ten laps of the entire field,” she declares, and the groan that echoes around the group is much louder this time, the daggers aimed my way far more prominent.
To my surprise, no one says a word in defiance or slander at me, not even Willow at the other end of the crowd. Everyone wordlessly scurries over to the far left of the field, where a mound of black vests sit waiting.
“Don't worry, we were due to do this anyway. She's probably just trying to put a target on your head because she's a bitch,” Ocean states, squeezing her arm tighter around mine, and I snicker.
“That sounds about right, but what are we doing, exactly?” I ask, coming to a stop behind the crowd as everybody grabs a vest for themselves.
When it's my turn, I hold one up between my finger and thumb, uncertain of the contraption in my hand. Ocean giggles at my expense as she grabs it from me and signals for me to hold my arms out.
She quickly tugs it up my arms and secures it at my chest, clicking the two buckles into place, and I huff at the weight of it on my back.
Ocean does the same for herself before I follow her to the perimeter of the combat grounds and we fall into step with the rest of the students.
It’s uncomfortable, but not unbearable. But more than anything, what we’re actually doing doesn't make sense.
“What is this actually for?” I ask again, still unable to wrap my head around the fact that our lesson consists of wearing a weighted jacket and walking around the field.
“Strength and stamina,” Ocean explains, making my nose pinch with distaste.
“I don't want either of them,” I say with a grimace as a hand lands on my shoulder, making me stiffen until I see Kael’s face.
“You do,” he mumbles as he nods toward Professor Drayker, who is standing in the center of the field, watching everyone.
“It will be even sweeter to gain all of the power this class has to offer, only to use it on the bitch herself.” He sweeps his blond hair back off his face in a way that should not be so damn hot while I try to remember that I'm mad at him. For what… I'm starting to forget.
With a wink, he stalks off before I can wrap my head around his words.
Rion and Thorne step around us to join their friend and the three of them power through the sea of students to get ahead of everyone.
I’d rather hover at the back. To prove my point, my steps slow as I remain side by side with Ocean.
We jog in a comfortable silence until we’re halfway through the first lap. Ocean turns to me with a grin.
“So, it looks like we've got plenty of time to talk. What do you want to know?” she asks, reminding me of my statement earlier.
Deep in thought, my lips twist as I consider where to even begin with all the things I don't know and what I want to know about this place. When I keep going round in circles in my mind, I decide to start with exactly what is looking back at me.
“How about we start with witches,” I state, and she beams at the prospect, almost bouncing on her tiptoes.
“Hit me with it,” she encourages, and I immediately feel a sense of embarrassment wash over me at the realization that I know little to nothing about the girl who is quickly becoming my best friend, apart from the fact that she does an excellent job of drying my hair with a snap of her fingers.
Before it can eat me alive, I swallow the cringy tingles down and level a stare her way. “What can you do?” I ask, and she shrugs, instantly downplaying it before she even opens her mouth.
“A lot of things. Most things, I guess. Well, a lot of mundane tasks, but I guess the ability to learn more will come from the institute-issued books that I’ll get access to as we continue through the year,” she explains.
I note the slight vagueness to her answer, but I almost get a sense from the glint in her eyes that she’s sharing all that she actually knows.
My steps falter as I consider the fact that I’m not the only underprivileged person on campus. I don’t mean in any other way than knowledge, and the fact triggers a shudder of weariness down my spine as I blink at my friend.
“Do you know what you’ll be capable of?” I ask, and she shakes her head.
“Not really, but I do know that I don’t have access to all that a witch can do since I’m in Thirteen,” she explains, making my jaw fall slack.
“They can’t do that,” I splutter, and she shrugs, a sad smile tilting her lips up a fraction.
“They can do what they want. It’s just another level of their control,” she states, and I hate the truth that lingers in the air.
I consider the control they have over me. I’m here, at their will. They have tested me twice now, at their will. If they see my magic come to life, I’ll be forever at their will.
“Are you scared of what you might be able to do?” I ask, my gut clenching at the thought of what I've already done with my bare hands. The fear of being used to a higher level, at someone else’s command, makes my throat burn with bile.
Ocean shakes her head. “If anything, it excites me.”
“I wish I had that feeling,” I murmur, silently high-fiving us for completing our first lap around the field before turning my attention back to my friend. “Where does your magic come from?”
If she finds my question odd, she doesn’t say anything.
Her smile grows wider as she points to the center of her chest. “From deep inside. It feels like a well of emotions, a pool of strength that will flow in any direction I want it to. Sometimes it can be based on the emotions I'm feeling and I don’t really have much control over it, but that’s very rare,” she explains, mindlessly rubbing small circles on her chest.
“And are your parents magical, too? Like, is it hereditary?” I clarify at the exact moment my chest tightens with a flicker of panic as I think of my own parents.
I consider their role in all of this and what that means to me.
Are my genes hereditary, or am I a freak accident mixed into the real world, only privy to this other life at the cost of someone else’s?
“Yes, both my parents have magic too,” Ocean answers, tearing me from my thoughts and a downward spiral.
“Cool. Are they both called witches as well, or witches and wizards?” I say, and she starts laughing so loud that the group in front of us peers back over their shoulders to scowl at us.
“Don't say wizards. That’s weird,” she says with a chuckle. “Honestly, my parents are just cute little high school sweethearts who are still at home.”
My heart aches at the whimsical way she speaks about them. “Where's home?” I breathe, and her smile softens.
“In the human world.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “So, how are you here?”
The look in her eyes darkens as she nods. “The same reason as you.”
“Because you killed someone,” I breathe, and she grimaces, dipping her chin to her chest, but her strength quickly comes back as she rolls her shoulders and lifts her chin high.
It's as if she hates the words, but doesn't regret her actions.
There's a sense that she doesn't want to talk about it, and I don't want to push her too hard when she's been kind and fair with me this whole time. Glancing away from her, my eyes latch onto Kael, who's now at the other end of the field, staring at us across the distance. “What about him?” I ask.
She follows my line of sight, her eyebrows rising slightly. “Him specifically, or vampires as a whole?” she checks, unable to hide her amusement, and I roll my eyes.
“Vampires as a whole,” I insist, and she smirks.
“They are assholes,” she declares.
It's my turn to laugh too. “I figured that much.”
The amusement wanes in her eyes as she worries her bottom lip, glancing around to see who is nearby. I’m certain she’s not going to say a word, but then she clears her throat, making my chest instantly tighten for some unknown reason.