9. Lucy
Lucy
I t’s Severance Rite morning—my favourite day of the year. The campus is alive even before the students arrive.
My day is only dampened by two things:
First, the fact that it will be my last in this apartment. Like the new students, I have to move into different accommodations as Head of House Inferos. I’ve pre-packed my underwear and unmentionables. But left everything else for campus maintenance to handle.
And second, the protests in the city outside the academy walls. They’re loud enough that even buried this far in the campus, the echoes of their rage spill between the buildings like thunder.
Apparently, there are thousands of people at the gates. Both for and against Architecti’s resurrection.
I just hope the new students can get in. Half the campus staff have been sent out to deal with crowd control.
I take a sip of coffee, savouring the rich, nutty aroma of the cup I poured earlier. It reminds me of Midnight’s drink last night at the rave.
It’s six thirty, I need to hurry up. I sip the rest of my coffee and review the contracts I prepped as examples for my third-year class this afternoon.
I wish finding a way to break the contract my father made for me at birth was as easy as third-year class prep. There’s a ripple of movement in the air. I check the window wondering if I left it open, but it’s closed.
I rub my face and wonder if I have time for another coffee. Exhaustion is making me hallucinate.
A bang on the door startles me, and I yelp, but jump up and pull it open. “Father.” I beam. “Morning, are you ready for the new cohort?”
He leans down and kisses both my cheeks. “We need to talk.”
He barges past me and paces up and down my open-plan living room.
“What’s wrong?”
He rounds on me, his dark eyes full of winter and snow. I edge towards the door. This is not a good expression for my father to hold.
“Did you have anything to do with the invitations?” he says, blunt and authoritative.
“For the new cohort?”
He nods.
“No? I’m not on the invitation board…”
He storms up to me, grips my chin hard enough it will bruise. “Don’t lie to me, Lucy.”
I push his hand off me, hating when he behaves like this. I was hoping he got the bad mood out yesterday.
“Don’t fucking touch me. If you can’t come in here and be nice, then don’t bother visiting at all.”
My throat tightens, a warning from my body—from the contract—not to threaten my father. I rub my chin and neck trying to shrug off the throbbing shadow of his touch.
“Did you let her in?”
I fling my hands up. “Who? Seriously, I don’t have time for this. I still need to put my prep materials in my first classroom and get some contracts back to Professor Morrow before attending the Severance Rite.”
“Security saw you with a woman late last night.” He unbuttons his blazer, relaxing as if my flat is actually his.
I don’t like it.
Not one bit.
I don’t want him to make himself comfortable.
I shift position, my eyes landing on the floor. “Saw me doing what, exactly?”
If he thinks I’m dating a human there would be severe consequences. That is one thing he has always been clear about. We Corvines do not sully ourselves with humankind, at least not relationship-wise.
His glare burrows into my ribs, infesting me. My cheeks flame under his penetrating glare.
“Her name is Midnight,” he growls.
“How… how do you know her name?”
“I asked you a question, Lucy.” My name spills from his lips all gnarled like a winter twig.
I breathe slow, trying to calm my thoughts, to work this through. Realisation dawns on me. “You know her…”
His adjusts his jacket, refusing to look at me. Oh, shit, he doesn’t just know her. My mind flits back to last night, to the scythe on her hip.
“She’s one of your reapers?”
His mouth turns into a nasty sneer. He rounds on me, gripping me by the shoulders, squeezing.
“You stay the fuck away from her.”
I frown and slap at his hand, only to receive a blinding pain behind my eye.
“Father, wh—” But the last words are strangled as he grabs my throat.
“I don’t know what you did or how you did it. But Midnight is my reaper. Do you understand?”
I nod, my cheeks heating and swelling under the pressure of his grip.
“I know her type. All charm and ego. I’ve no doubt she’ll have eyes for you. Do not go there, Lucy. Do you understand?”
“Go wh—” I stutter, but his grip tightens.
What the fuck is going on?
“I do not need more controversy in my department. I had enough to deal with Professor Jorsin. Not only is it forbidden to fuck your students, you are a demon. And. She. Is. A. Mortal.”
I shouldn’t fight back, not when the consequences are so severe.
But my survival instincts kick in, and I claw at his wrist, my nails splitting and bleeding the harder I scratch and pull at him. I pull my knee back and shove it hard into his groin.
He yelps and stumbles back as my kneecap shatters. I scream and buckle as searing pain radiates through my leg. My nose joins in the fun and pisses blood, spraying the floor and splattering my white shirt with red polka dots.
“I don’t know why you insist on fighting back, you know it doesn’t end well for you,” my father says.
“And I don’t understand why you insist on treating me the way you do. I won’t be single forever.”
He hauls himself up off the floor and bends to offer me a hand, helping me upright.
“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to use my anger against you. That was awful of me. And you’re right, you deserve a demoness worthy of you, someone to take care of you.”
He pulls a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and dabs under my nose, then holds it there, squeezing the bridge of my nose until the bleeding stops.
This is what I hate about him. The constant flip-flop.
The emotional whiplash is exhausting. Sometimes I feel like he hates me and others, the remorse trickles through his tender touch.
“What aren’t you telling me about her?” I ask, sounding extra nasally from all the blood lodged in my nose.
He sighs, examines the hanky and resumes the pressure when my nose decides it’s not done haemorrhaging. My knee has stopped screaming at least. It tingles where the bones are matting back together beneath my skin. Though I suspect I’ll be walking with a limp for the rest of the day.
“The student invitation list was complete. Then late last night, shortly after you returned to campus, another name appeared. A Mercedes Midnight.”
“It wasn’t me,” I say.
He nods. “I realise that now.”
“Why is it such a big deal if she attends. She’s just a reaper. It’s not like you don’t have others.”
He nods, though his posture is as stiff as his demeanour.
“Just promise me you won’t go there. I can’t afford for you to lose your power to a mortal.”
I fold my arms. “Just because she likes women and I like women doesn’t mean we’re going to get hitched.”
Though… if she wasn’t a student, I wouldn’t be making the same promise about fucking.
He huffs, checks the hanky and finally pulls it away.
“Yes, I’m not an idiot. I understand the principles of attraction.
” He takes a deep breath, rolls his shoulders and relaxes.
“But with your new role as Head of Inferos, our reputation is key right now. With the Veil flailing, and…” He stops himself.
Then continues. “I simply can’t afford you to fall in love with a mortal and give up all your power. I won’t have it. Do you understand me?”
“No falling for mortals. Got it,” I drawl.
His eyes flash. “I mean it, Lucy. If the Veil actually fails, we are all in grave danger. If Architecti were to…”
“To what? Hmm?”
The truth hangs between us.
“Say it,” I edge closer, my knee searing in agony, but I refuse to be weak, refuse to let him strip me of power. “Confess and this all goes away, Daddy,” I say in a sing-song voice.
His nose wrinkles in disgust. “Just keep away from her. She’s my best reaper. But she’s still a fucking mortal. Do not sully your reputation with a grinner, of all things. If you want a husband, or a wife, I’ll arrange for one for you.”
“You’ll do no such thing.”
His lips pull into a sneer as he walks to the door, dropping his bloodied hanky in the kitchen bin on the way. “Then see to it that you keep your hands, and your power, to yourself. I swear, if you fall for a mortal and lose our family power…”
He opens my apartment door.
“You’ll what?” I shove my hand on my hip, hold myself strong despite the throbbing pain in my leg. “It’s my power, Father. Mine to keep, mine to give away.”
His expression darkens. “I made you, Lucy. I can unmake you. Don’t you forget it.”
“Good morning, Dean Corvine,” a sing-song voice chimes in the hallway.
“Morning,” Father says, his expression morphing into that charming warmth mixed with serious professional academia.
Bile claws at my throat. He turns to me, some of the sunshine melting away. He clenches and unclenches his fists, not quite able to meet my eye.
“I’ll see you at the Severance Rite. I… I’m sorry. I do love you,” he says, his voice soft.
I nod.
“I know,” I say, and I do. He’s a demon, and they’re all flighty, angry types. And yet the churning in my gut tells me that it’s not an excuse. That I deserve better. That I shouldn’t tolerate it. But he’s my father.
The only one I have.
The only family I have, and I’m afraid if I push him away, I’ll be all alone.
The flat door closes, and I sag against my dining room table, weakness settling into my muscles, tears stinging my eyes.