Chapter 20 #2
The person filing the complaint was one Acacia Clarke.
At the sight of her name, my eyebrows rose.
I knew she was a college student; Skylar’s comments and her apartment in the Quarter were enough to tell me that.
What was the likelihood she was in Woolworth’s class?
Did she have something to do with what happened to the werewolves? I wasn’t sure I liked the implications.
She’d filed a complaint against one of the other students in the course. Apparently, he was a member of Humans Are Human, who referred to werewolves, succubi, and all magic users as “monsters” and “wastes of space.”
Woolworth’s own statement was interesting reading.
Several times, when Mr. Powell referred to alchemists as “non-humans,” I corrected him the term was alchemists and biologically, they were the same as humans.
This resulted in several classes lost to arguments between Mr. Powell and Miss Clarke.
While I strive to keep my classes balanced in terms of viewpoints
He’d stopped writing, but even I could see he’d just given up and let the bigot control the conversation rather than argue for the humanity of werewolves or anyone else who wasn’t like him. I snapped a picture of the complaint and the form letter from the civil rights office underneath.
It looked like they were taking it seriously, and I couldn’t help but wonder if that was because of the severity or their concern that the last thing they needed was a social-media reckoning. A university as old as this one probably had a few speciesist skeletons in its closet.
Powell turned out to be Timothy Powell, according to the roster.
Woolworth had circled his name and Acacia’s.
It wasn’t a lot to go on, but it was a start.
Maybe the Humans Are Human supporter decided those he didn’t think were people didn’t deserve to live.
The way the movement was going, it wasn’t the first time one of them had been radicalized to do more than make angry posts on Reddit.
Just to be thorough, I combed through the rest of the desk, but none of the other paperwork jumped out at me, and when I unlocked the drawers, it was mostly office supplies and some computer wires he must use during lectures. I glanced at the bookshelf to see if anything else looked interesting.
The photo of Nick and his family was back in its place of pride.
In the darkness I squinted, trying to understand Nick’s expression.
Skylar’s words were fresh in my mind and I knew I didn’t have the whole story.
All three of them, Nick, his brother, and their father looked serious, but was that unhappiness I saw in his eyes?
Woolworth had positioned a few other photos of himself in a practice uniform across the bookshelves.
No personal photos, though. None of him with anyone who looked like his mother.
I moved closer and squinted at one of Woolworth as a young man, standing next to an older man, his arms crossed, a groove carved between his eyebrows.
He was a familiar guy, and I tried to figure out where I knew him from before realizing it was the flier the HAH member had just handed me. Looked like it wasn’t just the King family Woolworth practiced with. It was too bad his magic wasn’t as strong as his ambition.
Putting everything back in its place, I started towards the door, freezing when I heard the harsh beep of someone entering a number on the keypad.
Glancing around, there was nowhere to run.
The window didn’t open enough to escape out of, and I still didn’t know how to climb down a building without falling to my painful death.
There wasn’t any bathroom to escape into.
My heart pounded, and adrenaline made everything narrow. My mind flashed with options, each more fantastical than the last. No, I needed to keep this simple.
Raising my hand, I began weaving an invisibility spell. In the dark, it should be easier, since I could just add to the shadows, rather than trying to match the brightness of the sun. Whoever was on the other side paused entering their code.
“What are you doing here?” I heard Woolworth ask.
“What?" someone growled, and I was intimately familiar with that fuzzy ball of rage. What the hell was Dieter Rossi doing here?
“My office, what are you doing at my office?” Woolworth said.
“This is your office?” Dieter asked.
“It has my name on the door, you idiot. What did you think it was?”
“I just—” Dieter started.
“You know what? I don’t want to know. Do you have any for me?” Woolworth snapped.
“Not right now,” Dieter said. “I might soon.”
“Then what are you doing here? God, you’re an idiot, you could get me fired being here.” I blinked. I’d never have pegged Woolworth as a guy who would stand up to a homicidal six-foot werewolf with the strength to tear his head off.
In fact, I could feel Dieter’s growl through the floor, a rumble so low it felt like the beginnings of an earthquake. Then it stopped.
“That’s what I thought,” Woolworth said. “Don’t contact me unless you have something for me, and even then, never come to my office.”
“Fine.”
I wondered what their deal was and then rolled my eyes up. What else would they have to talk about? Drugs.
Woolworth was someone who could purchase a lot of product and then sell it to his students.
Magical Studies, with its reputation for studying the arcane, would be a perfect front for someone who wanted to move another sort of product.
Still, he must buy a lot if Dieter was letting a professor talk to him like that.
“I’ll walk you out,” Woolworth said. “Wouldn’t want you to get lost on the way.”
Dieter muttered something, and I heard him stomp off. I listened against the door, but I didn’t hear Woolworth. Taking a deep breath, I inched open the door and peeked out. No one was in the hallway.
Before they could get back, I bolted, ordering a ride as I took the stairs two at a time. When I got to the street where my Lyft was waiting for me, I didn’t see either werewolf or professor.