Chapter 12 #2
It was a very old tradition, one many modern highblood women eschewed.
Well, I decided to bring it back. The Drakharrow name held immense power, and I needed every bit I could get my hands on if I were to keep this whole sinking ship afloat.
My father had wanted me to wed a Drakharrow for as long as I could remember, but Blake was supposed to be my way into one of the most prestigious houses in Sangratha, not Viktor.
Never in a million years did I dream I’d be the consort of the head of the family himself.
It was a dream come true, I told myself. Not a nightmare. Not a nightmare.
“Very well. Headmistress Drakharrow, I must protest these changes,” Sankara said, his expression somber.
“The faculty of Bloodwing bear a responsibility to the safety of all students, blightborn ones included. Now, some things are tradition. But the changes you’re proposing are starkly inequitable.
There’s no need to set blightborn students apart in this way. ”
“No need?” I said coldly. “Well, that’s your perspective, Professor. And I must say, your loyalty to your own kind is admirable.” There were some murmurs of agreement from our fellow highbloods. “My archon, Viktor Drakharrow, who I’m sure you’re all very familiar with, saw a need.”
“Was the Board of Directors consulted about all of these changes?” Sankara asked, furrowing his brow.
“Of course,” I said, lying through my teeth. “We’d never make such sweeping changes without them.”
“So you admit the changes are sweeping?” Professor Allenvale interjected, jumping on my slipup.
Fuck.
I glared at her. “That was the wrong word.” I glanced at the clock on the wall.
“In any case, I do so appreciate all of the wonderful feedback, but I’m afraid we’re out of time.
Classes will be starting soon, and we don’t wish to keep students waiting, do we?
Any further questions or concerns may be submitted to me at any time—in writing. ”
Some chairs scraped back as faculty began to rise to their feet.
“Oh, yes—one last thing.” Trying to sound casual, I gestured and my new secretary darted forward, handing out small square sheets of parchment, muscles rippling beneath his tight white but-ton-up shirt emblazoned with the school motto, of course.
I saw Rodriguez take note of the badge affixed to the secretary’s uniform and frown at the symbol: a drop of blood being pierced by a sword.
Silvio Santos was the younger son of a well-off family.
He’d graduated a few years ago and had been a wastrel ever since, squandering his father’s fortune instead of doing something useful with his life: His father was only too happy to donate Silvio as one of my new Bloodguards.
I’d added secretarial duties to his assignment, and he’d been happy to comply, seemingly content to lounge behind my waiting room desk every day looking pretty.
“One last memorandum for today. You can read it on your way out,” I finished.
Rodriguez grabbed a sheet from Silvio. I tucked back a lock of hair and began to put my papers in the red leather briefcase I’d taken to carrying with me, but from out of the corner of my eye I saw Rodriguez skimming.
“What the fuck is this?”
A ball of paper bounced off my shoulder and landed at my feet. Silvio stepped forward, growling exactly like the protective guard dog he was supposed to be.
“What the fuck is this?” Rodriguez repeated, ignoring my secretary. He held up the sheet of paper and read aloud. “Bloodwing’s Blood Donation Incentive Program? Have you gone absolutely mad, Regan?”
His voice had risen to a fever pitch, filling the small room.
For a mere blightborn professor, he was oddly intimidating.
I tried not to flinch. He might have been my instructor once, but now it was I who was in charge, not him.
Rodriguez had to get used to it— for his own safety if nothing else.
He either listened to me now, or he’d soon be dealing with Viktor.
“It’s very straightforward,” I said, noticing how no one had left the room yet.They were all waiting to see how this played out.
“Thralls, of course, are automatically enrolled in the program.They’ll be receiving extra credit from now on for their loyal service: enhanced privileges, reduced curfew time, perhaps even some other incentives.
The program details are still being worked out.We thought it would only be fair to extend similar rewards to all blightborn volunteers. ”
We being me. Viktor hadn’t wanted to incentivize the program he created at all. He was sadly shortsighted at times.
Rodriguez’s lips curled back. “Volunteers? You mean people being stopped in the hallways easily thanks to the color of their clothing and forced to give a socalled donation anytime a highblood student feels peckish?”
“The privilege extends to faculty, too,” I said sweetly. Rodriguez’s face froze. “And, of course, it’s all voluntary. Don’t you see the word right there on the parchment? Vol-un-tary.”
Sankara spoke up, his face very hard now. “In theory, yes. But in practice?”
I shrugged. “School rules must be followed by everyone.”
Rodriguez was practically vibrating with fury. “It’s coercion.”
“Thrallweave has always been permitted, Professor,” I pointed out. “You do realize you live under highblood rule every day, do you not? We all worship the Bloodmaiden. We all follow the same precepts, don’t we … ?” I let the words linger.
“Of course,” Rodriguez snapped. “And the Bloodmaiden cares for all her children.”
“Some more than others,” I muttered under my breath. I started to move away from the desk, but Rodriguez wasn’t finished yet.
“Did you even consult the House Leaders about these proposed changes beforehand?”
I took a deep breath, then wished I hadn’t. I wrinkled my nose. When was the last time he’d properly washed and ironed his own clothes? He might have been a brilliant mind, but he dressed like a disgrace. “I didn’t see the need.”
Rodriguez gave a choked laugh. “You didn’t see the need?”
“No,” I said icily. “And they are not proposed changes, Professor Rodriguez. They are effective immediately.” I pointed out into the hallway. “As soon as you step out into that hall. They apply to everyone. Students and faculty alike.”
I watched his face pale. To my surprise, Sankara put a hand on his arm and looked down at Rodriguez reassuringly.
So, it was like that, was it? Interesting.
Viktor would appreciate knowing. The man was absolutely obsessed with eliminating what he saw as unnatural liaisons.
But I didn’t share his sentiments on the matter, and I didn’t plan on passing on everything that transpired at my school to Viktor.
I glanced down at my hand quickly, then closed my palm.
The mark where Kage had cut me had faded, but I could still feel it.
The memory of his blood mingling with mine as it entered my body.
The heat of it, the power of it. I should never have made that vow.
I should have gone straight to Viktor. What I’d learned might have changed the entire balance of power between the two houses.
But that was just it, wasn’t it? Viktor had enough power already.
I pictured the wolf, throat torn out, lying bleeding in the snow. No. I’d made my choice. I was doing everything else Viktor asked of me. What more could he possibly want?
Everything, the voice in my head said softly.
The room was quiet. I licked my lips, sensing the tension. Good, let them be angry. Fear and anger would keep them all in line. It certainly worked on me. “This meeting is adjourned,” I said abruptly, turning away from the horror on their faces before I could see my own fear reflected back there.
In the corridor outside of the boardroom, four members of my Bloodguard were waiting: all in prime physical condition, all alumni, all wearing their identifying blood-and-sword badges that marked them as loyal enforcers of my new regime.
As I began to stride down the corridor, they flanked me, Bloodguard badges flashing, boots echoing alongside my pointed high heels as we crossed the stone floors.
I kept my chin up, my stride quick but steady. I should have felt powerful. Instead, I felt nauseated. As if something inside of me was rotting away.
Kim’s decapitated head flashed behind my eyes again. Mouth gaping. Maggots crawling along his blackened lips. Eternally silent.
I pushed the image away, only to have it replaced by a new one. Dark, intense eyes staring into mine with the fierceness of a wolf.
I shoved that one away, too.
I had a school to run. I was doing this for everyone’s good, whether they knew it or not. I thought of Persis, far from his family, helpless and afraid, and I steeled myself. There could be no room for regret. I was my brother’s only way back home.
A soft scritch of claws made me glance to my left.
My eyes wid-ened: Blake’s pet. I’d seen the tiny fluffin marching through the Drakharrow Tower last year, looking as if he owned the place.
Much like Blake did, I thought sourly. Now the fluffin sat between two tall pillars, not yipping or scampering away but simply watching me.
His wide golden eyes followed every step I took.
I swallowed. No one else seemed to notice him sitting there, and yet I could swear the creature was looking right at me, judging me.
That he could see straight through the silk and bravado, right to the rot beneath.
I missed a step, my heel clipping the stone. Tearing my gaze away, I faced forward. Behind me, I thought I heard the fluffin give a faint, reproachful chirp. The creature was far smaller and quieter than Rodriguez. Yet his outrage rang for much longer in my ears as I walked away.