Chapter 32 Nyx #4
“Ms. Byrke. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, though obviously I would have wished for better circumstances. I was quite impressed to hear that you’d petitioned the Board of Trustees for advanced placement—how are your classes going so far this term?”
I soften my smile, just a bit. Just enough to make him think I’m buying his little song and dance. “I’m really enjoying the challenge.”
“Did I read correctly that you’ve maintained a grade point average that places you in the top three percent of the entire student population of Dreadhurst? That’s quite an achievement, particularly for someone who was raised outside of our community.”
My eyes flick to Marcus, because in my heart of hearts, I really am a petty bitch. “Thank you, Councilor.”
“Powerful, smart, beautiful—truly, our community can only benefit from your inclusion.”
Killian crosses his arms as his father ramps up, but I play along with his game. “That is very kind of you to say.”
“You’ve more than earned it, if Fate saw to bless you so. Did you receive any other blessings from your epiphaneia?”
Okay Preston, I see you. “Blessings?”
He chuckles. “Perhaps you haven’t studied this yet. I was fortunate enough to be blessed by Fate, who saw fit to give me a soulmate, my wife.” As Preston waxes poetic about his wife, Killian’s lip curls up in a sneer.
I smile warmly. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Ms. Bryke. When my epiphaneia revealed her existence, I was astonished at my luck. Did your epiphaneia reveal any soulmate marks?”
Nope. Still not ready to think about those. “What does a soulmate mark look like?”
“They typically begin as white lines that darken once the soulmate bond is sealed between the two marked individuals. I ask because for some individuals with powers that are particularly hard to control, sealing the soulmate bond can stabilize their otherwise volatile magic. If you were to have a soulmate mark, the Council would have a vested interest in helping you unite with him to better control your power.”
“I can’t say I’ve noticed one of those.” Which isn’t technically a lie. Because there are five of the fucking things.
“That’s a shame, though I’m sure the boys at Dreadhurst won’t be disappointed,” he chuckles and gestures to Renard. Behind him, Killian relaxes infinitesimally.
“Thank you, Councilor.” Renard nods, and turns his soulless, mossy-green eyes on me. “Ms. Byrke—to Grandmaster Brandt’s point earlier, are you willing to cooperate with the Council to determine the extent of your powers?”
Okay cool, going right for it. Gotta admire that. Sometimes. “Isn’t that what I’m already doing as a student at Dreadhurst?” Both Roth and Renard narrow their eyes at the same time. If I wasn’t literally playing with fire, I might even laugh.
“Given the rarity of Bloodwitches, it is vital that we understand how your powers can be used for the benefit of our community at large—”
“Councilor,” Brandt interrupts. “I must insist the Council refrain from acting as if Ms. Byrke is an asset merely due to the nature of her powers. This line of questioning is beyond inappropriate given the circumstances.”
Renard smirks. “I disagree, Grandmaster. It is precisely these circumstances that warrant this line of questioning. Ms. Byrke here is the first Bloodwitch in two thousand years. When she dies, it very well may be another two thousand years before magic like hers is seen again. We have a responsibility to our community to document exactly what she’s capable of and make use of her power while we can. ”
“Why do you assume I want to use my powers to benefit anyone else?”
Renard turns his glare on me. “Excuse me?”
“You’re talking about my powers as if you have any say in how I use them.
You don’t.” I get the feeling Renard doesn’t hear the word “no” very often, if the silence in the room is any indication.
“I can’t stop you from asking me to use them, but you can’t stop me from declining.
” A vein starts to pulse in his forehead, but I’m more unnerved by the slight twitch of Roth’s lips behind him.
“I believe that concludes your time, Councilor,” Vivica’s voice rings out as Renard seethes.
“Ms. Byrke—I’ve heard such lovely things about you from my daughters, it’s wonderful to make your acquaintance.
Setting aside your unique powers for the moment, how have you been adjusting to life as a witch? ”
Is she serious? “I’ve had better days.”
She chuckles. “I’m sure. It can be difficult to shoulder a burden such as this. Most witches have a coven to support and guide them—have you given any thought to joining one now that your powers have awoken?”
“Not yet, no.”
“As Head of the Witch’s Council and Matriarch of my own coven, I feel a sense of responsibility for one so young and without direction.
Is there anything you need at present?” Without direction?
Awfully presumptuous of her. I know exactly where I’m going as soon as I get the chance: the fuck away from all this shit.
Her attempt at killing me with kindness is a nice touch, but, “I think I’m good for now. Thanks.”
“You are most welcome. I have asked my coven to look through our grimoire for any mention of blood magic or Bloodwitches, and I will send word through my daughters if I find if our search is fruitful. Grandmaster, I’ve also tasked the Council Archivist with the same search, and will notify you if there’s anything useful to report. ”
Brandt nods, “Thank you, Councilor, that will be most helpful as we continue Ms. Byrke’s education.”
She nods to Amadeus. “Councilman Mondragon, I yield my time.”
He grumbles, but doesn’t bother answering her. Instead, we stare at one another. And keep staring. Then his eyes flash green, and he smirks cruelly.
“Ms. Byrke. Is it true that you’ve been associating with my son, Ramsey?” All three Heirs eyes focus on me at his question, and part of me wonders if they’re going to try and call me out for bending the truth.
“That depends on who you talk to and how much they like to gossip.” I shrug.
“You’ve been seen together over the last several months. Are you in a romantic relationship with him?”
I quirk my head in faux confusion—there is zero chance I’m sharing anything about Ramsey to the man that maimed him. “Why do you ask?”
“Much like you are currently the world’s only Bloodwitch, he is the only Moratus dragon.
” He turns his predatory glare to the Headmaster.
“Headmaster Church, you now have arguably two of the most powerful wielders of our time at your school, both of whom currently have a tenuous control over their abilities at best. It is merely a matter of time before one of them causes irreparable damage. Do you truly believe other students are safe?”
The Headmaster doesn’t falter when he responds to King Shitbag. “Yes, Councilor, I do. The faculty at Dreadhurst is second to none, and fully capable of—”
“Letting their students get thrashed so thoroughly their powers decimate wards that have been in place for over four hundred years?”
“As I said, Councilor, that brief lapse in judgement has already been addressed—”
“I distinctly recall warning this Council and the Deadhurst Board of Trustees against admitting Ramsey to prevent this kind of disaster, and here you’ve gone and admitted someone who could—who already has—put not only our students at risk but our entire way of life.
If her power had gotten through your attempt to contain it, Grandmaster Brandt, can you say with any certainty that it wouldn’t have targeted humans? ”
Even though Amadeus is literally talking down to Brandt, he ignores the dragon king’s challenge.
“No, Councilor, I cannot say definitively one way or another.” Amadeus smirks and opens his mouth, but Brandt isn’t finished.
“However—as the world’s only Grandmaster of the Fourth Order who’s been teaching students, including some on this very Council, longer than you’ve been alive—I am the only one qualified to not only assess that risk, but mitigate it.
There is simply nowhere else on this continent where these students would be safer as they learn to master their powers. ”
Amadeus’ eyes begin to glow a sickly green and I wonder if he might crack, but after a moment he merely smiles that same toothy, predatory grin. “Then we are fortunate indeed, to have such an accomplished and dedicated educator at our disposal. I yield my time to you, Councilman Altair.”
Out of all the assholes I’ve spoken to today, the Unseelie Fae unnerves me the most. Every breath, every movement is deliberately precise and intentional.
He doesn’t fidget or twitch or otherwise react to the other Council members.
He just stares at me with yellow eyes that delve under my skin, framed by blue-black hair that falls down to his shoulders, highlighting sharp, refined features.
When he finally speaks, his voice winds around my body like a vine until I can’t look away.
“Ms. Byrke. With such a marvelous power, Fate has surely smiled upon you. A word of warning, however, that the stars are not the only ones watching what becomes of this gift, Daughter of Night.” Icy dread falls down my spine at his words, and then I’m released from whatever hold had on me when he looks to Councilman Foucault.
His aquiline nose framed by deep-set brown eyes gives him an air of old-world aristocracy, and when he speaks with an accented voice to announce he has no further questions, I can almost imagine he actually was.
Renard adjourns the hearing after that, informing us that we’ll be notified when deliberations are over.
With that dismissal, Church and Brandt lead the way out of the Council chamber.
This time, I don’t give Roth the chance to sneak up behind me, peeling off from the group to hang back with Augustine as the others walk to the portal mirror.
“Bad news, Auggie,” I say quietly. “Pretty sure I pissed all of them off.”
She sighs and shakes her head. “I expected nothing, and I’m still disappointed.”