Chapter 33
Brigid
I step into the auditorium and my jaw drops. This isn't some dingy high school gym with squeaky bleachers and the stench of teenage sweat.
No, this is pure excess .
Towering columns flank a stage that could rival Broadway, intricately carved with scenes of different creatures battling each other. Tiered seating rises in a perfect semicircle, each row draped in deep crimson velvet. The ceiling soars impossibly high, adorned with frescoes that make the Sistine Chapel look like finger paintings.
"Damn," I say under my breath, but even so, my voice echoes slightly in the cavernous space. "And I thought our school assemblies in the gym were fancy when they put up crepe paper streamers.”
I shudder, thinking of those assemblies. School spirit days were not my thing.
Students file in around me, their chatter a dull roar. I force myself to move, to blend in, even as my skin crawls with the weight of unseen eyes. The Council members are here somewhere, ready to judge us all for Dean Charling's murder. Ready to judge me.
My gaze darts from face to face, searching for a friendly one. I spot Callen, Rory, and Tiernan sitting together near the front. Callen's eyes meet mine for a split second, and the ache in my chest flares anew.
I veer away before Tiernan and Rory see me, choosing a seat as far from them as possible. Let them have their boys' club. I'm done trusting pretty men.
"Brigid," a silky voice says from behind me. "Sitting all alone? How fitting."
Of all the seats in this goddamn auditorium, I manage to plant myself right in front of Laria and her pack of vultures. Just my luck.
I grit my teeth, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response.
The murmur of voices fades as a figure takes the stage. I lean forward, straining to hear over Laria's deliberate whispers. The council members are talking about what is happening with their investigation into Dean Charling's murder.
I’m trying to hear the speaker’s words, but Laria's voice drowns them out, her voice tinny and dripping with venom.
"Look at her, pretending she doesn't know anything. We all know what your little shadow tricks are capable of, don't we?"
I clench my fists, nails biting into my palms. Don't react. That's what she wants.
"...still seeking information," the Council member drones on, his voice barely audible over the commotion behind me.
"Hey, freak," Laria hisses, kicking the back of my chair. "I'm talking to you."
My jaw tightens.
I risk a glance over toward the guys, catching sight of Callen. His eyes are fixed on our row, his expression thunderous. Is he glaring at me or Laria? I can't tell anymore.
I spin around, ready to tell Laria to shut her mouth, but the words die on my lips. Nester, a quiet redhead from my Temporal Distortions class, slides into the seat next to me. His eyes are glazed, unfocused.
"Nester?" I whisper.
He doesn't respond, doesn't even look at me. A chill runs through me as I see Laria's smirk over his shoulder. Fuck . Has she compelled him? Nestor’s a fire elemental.
I try to turn to Laria, to tell her to quit whatever stupid game she’s playing, but my arms won't budge. Invisible bonds hold me to the chair. Panic rises in my throat as I struggle against the magical restraints.
"What the hell are you doing, Laria?”
She leans forward and I can smell her stank breath. "Oh, sweetie. I'm just getting started."
Heat blooms beneath me. I look down.
Flames lick at my legs, which are constrained to my chair like some sort of sick magic trick. My heart hammers against my ribs as I try to process what's happening.
"Laria, stop this," I hiss, fighting to keep my voice steady.
She laughs, the sound sharp and cruel.
The heat intensifies, and I can't help the whimper that escapes me.
"Help!" I try to shout, but it comes out as a choked whisper.
Nobody turns. Nobody notices.
The flames lick at my shoes, singeing the hem of my pants. I frantically scan the auditorium. My gaze lands on Lochan, but he's fixated on the Council members, oblivious to my predicament.
"Getting a little warm, Brigid?" Laria taunts.
I clench my jaw, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response. The fire's contained, but for how long? My skin tingles with rising heat and barely contained panic.
"What's wrong? Shadow bitch can't handle a little flame?"
Nester sits motionless beside me, a puppet in Laria's sick game. I want to scream at him, shake him out of this trance, but I'm paralyzed.
"Please," I whisper, not sure who I'm begging—Laria, the universe, or my own stubborn magic.
And then, something inside me breaks.
Darkness erupts from my body, extinguishing the flames and shattering the magic binding me to the chair. I gasp, stumbling to my feet as inky tendrils of shadow whip around me, growing larger and more volatile with each passing second.
My relief is short-lived as I realize I can't control it. The shadows expand, racing across the floor and up the walls, plunging the auditorium into an unnatural twilight. Panicked screams erupt all around me.
Chairs topple, and bodies collide in the frenzied rush to escape. The shadows lash out, perceiving threats everywhere.
A tendril snakes towards a Council member, one of the ones who interrogated me. But I can't stop it. The magic has a mind of its own now, fueled by years of pent-up rage and pain.
You can control this. You have to!
But I can't. The shadows swirl faster, a maelstrom of darkness with me at its eye. I see glimpses of terrified faces as the storm rages. Laria cowers beneath a row of seats.
"Make it stop," I plead, though I'm not sure anyone can hear me over the howling tempest of shadow magic.
The chaos swirls around me, a mass of darkness and terror. My legs give out and I sink to my knees. I'm exactly what they all feared—a monster.
Just as the shadows feel like they’re going to consume me, I feel it. A tendril of darkness sliding back towards me, then another. The realization hits like a punch to the gut.
It’s my pain. My emotions.
I force myself to take a deep breath, then another. Gradually, the frenzied swirling of shadows slows. As my racing heart steadies, more tendrils return, coiling around me.
"Okay," I mutter. "Okay, we can do this."
I close my eyes, focusing on calm, like Tiernan taught me. The howling wind dies down to a breeze, and then everything is still.
When I open my eyes again, the storm has dissipated. Shadows retreat to their usual places, leaving stunned silence in their wake.
On stage, the Council members gape at me. Every eye in the room is fixed on me with a mix of horror and fascination. I spot Laria, her perfect face twisted in revulsion.
I bolt for the exit, shoving past frozen bodies. As I near the door, I see him. Lochan. That smug bastard's face is a perfect mask of vindication.
See ? his eyes seem to say. I told you she was dangerous.
Maybe you were right all along, asshole.
I push past him, fleeing through the doors and out into the hallway. My footsteps thud against the floor, and I feel more alone than ever in this unfamiliar place.
And the thought comes unbidden.
Maybe I really am as dangerous as they all think.
I stumble out of the academy's grand entrance, my chest heaving. The perfectly groomed grounds blur as tears sting my eyes. My feet carry me forwards. I don’t know where I’m going and I don’t care. All I can think about is getting away. Away from Callen, away from Lochan, away from Laria and everyone else who thinks of me as something dark and wrong.
"Leaving so soon, little bird?"
Marius materializes from the tree line. I jerk to a stop, my heart lurching painfully.
"Fuck off, Marius. Didn't you hear? I'm dangerous."
A smile plays at his lips. "Oh, I'd hoped for nothing less."
I laugh bitterly. "Right. Because that's what everyone wants – a ticking time bomb for a classmate."
"You misunderstand," Marius says, closing the distance between us. His eyes, dark as pitch, bore into mine. "The most dangerous thing about you, Brigid, is your potential to bring their entire house of cards crashing down."
"What the hell does that mean?"
He reaches out, trailing a finger along my jaw. I shudder.
”It means," Marius murmurs, "that you're far more important than you think."
I swallow hard, my throat dry. Marius's touch lingers, sending tingles across my skin.
"Important to who?" I demand, voice barely above a whisper.
His lips curve. "To me, Brigid.”
Before I can process his words, Marius's hand slides to the back of my neck. He pulls me close, crushing his mouth against mine. The kiss is fierce, hungry. I gasp, my body a traitor as I melt into him.
His tongue sweeps past my lips, tasting of darkness and danger, of smoke. I should push him away. Run. But my fingers tangle in his hair instead, drawing him closer.
When we break apart, I'm breathless. Marius's eyes gleam.
"They fear you and they don’t even know what you're capable of," he continues, his voice hypnotic. "What we're capable of together."
"We? There is no we, Marius. You don't even know what I am."
His eyes flash.
"I know you better than you know yourself," he counters. His hand slides lower, resting over my thundering heart. "I can feel it, the shadows inside you. They calls to me."
Part of me wants to run, to get as far away from Marius and his treacherous words as possible. But a larger part, the part still trembling from our kiss, yearns to hear more.
"What am I?" I whisper.
Marius leans in close, his lips brushing my ear. "You're the key, little bird.”