15. Lucy
Lucy
I spot Midnight the minute she walks through the doors of the Hall of Unfinished Business.
She made it.
Thank the seven devils. Though I think it would be easier for me if she hadn’t. But my stomach tightens at the thought. My father might not want me to go near her, but a woman can window-shop from afar.
I lean against the wall, taking the pressure off my knee. I’m fairly certain the bone has healed now, but there’s an ache living its best life in my joints.
Midnight’s wearing black leathers because she rode here, I assume. They’re snug around her ass, her muscular thighs press against the fabric. Her hair is shaved close to her scalp and longer on top. It flops as she pulls her hand through it.
Her shirt, like all the successful candidates is ripped.
I hate that my body reacts to her presence. Perhaps dabbling is worth the risk. Father’s only concerned about my magic, and the only way I lose that is if I fall in love, and there’s no chance of that. I’m far too busy.
Thalia appears by my side; she nods at Midnight. “I thought you said you didn’t have a nice young woman keeping you entertained.”
I tut at her. “I don’t. She’s just a new student.”
“Mmmhmm, and one you seem to be admiring.”
“Thalia,” I scold. “Can you imagine? I’m not risking my tenure for a student. No matter how attractive they may be. What was that professor’s name?”
“Jorsin.” She nods knowingly.
“That was it.”
“Banished to the underworld on top of losing his magic to the mortal. And then she broke it, too. Didn’t have control when she used his power, and it shattered his crystalline heart. Just awful.”
I kick off the wall, instantly regretting it as my knee buckles and Thalia catches me. Her eyes meet mine, she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. She knows what my father is like.
“It’s fine,” I mumble.
“Is it?” She growls under her breath. “I could rip open the Veil, shove him through. Get Alistair to stitch it up tight enough he can’t get back through.”
I stifle a laugh. “You’re terrible. He’s not that bad.”
“Lucy…” she says and lets me go once I’m stable. Thalia has always found my father to be difficult. She sees through the charm and allure unlike most female professors.
I clasp her hand. “I did this to myself. The contract…”
She waves me off. “You can’t move against him. Blah blah blah. The point is you shouldn’t have to. You shouldn’t be put in a position where you need to defend yourself and certainly not significantly enough you end up injured.”
I cup her cheek. “I appreciate you.”
She huffs but leaves me be. In my periphery, I catch sight of Midnight and my stomach drops. Another student with curly ginger hair and pale, freckled skin gesticulates at her. Midnight’s eyes seethe with a coldness that could kill.
Who is she? And why does she make Midnight react that way?
My stomach turns.
It has no right to. Midnight is nothing to me. And even less now I know she’s Father’s reaper and a student. I stand a little taller. I’m about to encourage the professors to sort the students when Midnight notices me.
“Fuck you, Aurelia. Bastien, Lex, excuse me a moment, I’ll be back.”
She strides over to me, thank the gods, because it’s definitely easier resting against the wall. I hobble back but tuck myself under the shade of an archway where we can’t be seen by the growing cluster of students.
She raises her finger and points it at me. “Oh,” she starts. “You’re injured.”
“I am.” I offer no further information, so she continues.
Her gaze rolls over my body. It falls to my knee, up to my swollen nose, then to my left eye shot through with bloody threads. I take her hand and pull her further into the shadows. I can’t have a student ogling me like she wants to devour me in public.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I say.
“What happened to you?”
I can’t answer that, not to her. Not yet, not now, maybe not ever.
“You’ll want to get ahead of the class quickly.
Study nightly if you can. I’m assuming you’re going to study contracts, which means some of your classes will be with me.
I’ll be sure to treat you like I treat everyone else.
There are several texts in the library that will be useful.
Given you’re a reaper, you’ll be at a disadvantage because no one will want you to succeed. ”
She steps back. “How did you know…?”
“That you’re a reaper?” I sigh. It’s probably for the best she doesn’t know who my father is.
“You wore a scythe on your hip last night, and I’m a professor of contracts. It doesn’t take a genius…”
Her eyes narrow, they scan my body again, lingering on my knee. If I keep blabbering, maybe she’ll ignore my injuries, and we can move on.
“Who was that girl you were talking to?” I say, the words slipping out. I bite the inside of my lip, furious that the words snuck out without permission.
She cocks her head up, a slow smirk surfacing. “Sounds like someone’s jealous.”
She says it so confidently, her ego oozing out of her pores. I am not jealous.
“One orgasm doesn’t mean anything.”
That makes her raise an eyebrow. But I need to cut it off at the neck. I can’t afford this to become anything. I squeeze every ounce of emotion out of my features until my expression is stoic. “I was asking because you seemed angry with her.”
She shakes her head as if trying to work out which thing to focus on first. “She’s my ex…”
“Oh,” I say, not sure what happened or if it’s my place to ask. But she offers another nugget.
“She’s the reason I’m a reaper.”
“I see. So you’re not together anymore?”
She snorts. “I’d rather reap my own soul than touch that traitorous cunt.
” Her expression is like stone and fire.
An ancient feminine rage pooling deep in her eyes and simmering in her fists.
Whatever that girl did, there’s no coming back from it.
The knot in my stomach loosens and I try not to think about what that means.
Midnight sighs as she scans my face. “It was your eyes that first attracted me last night. They’re beautiful,” she says and brings her hand up to push my hair behind my ear. I recoil, too paranoid anyone could be watching.
“You can’t do that here, it’s not allowed.”
“It wasn’t until I got here and saw the other demons that I realised they’re so beautiful because they’re not human.”
I can’t bring myself to look at her. “No. They’re not.”
“You’re a professor.”
I nod.
She huffs out an indignant laugh. “Who’d have thought, the demon professor and the reaper.”
I smile softly. “There is no demon professor and reaper. It was one night. A night that can’t be repeated.”
“Because you’re a professor?”
“That, and the fact you’re a reaper, and you’re mortal and I’m not. The fact you’re so young.”
She scoffs. “I’m nearly thirty.”
I roll my eyes. “And I’m forty.”
“That didn’t seem to bother you last night…”
My cheeks flame crimson. It makes the corner of her mouth twitch.
She stands straighter, her expression turning serious. “If you think avoiding telling me what happened to you means I’ll drop it, you’re sorely mistaken. You avoiding the question means it wasn’t an accident.”
She moves so close to me I have to take a step back. I hit the wall.
“Midnight,” I hiss.
“We’re both consenting adults, Lucy .” She exaggerates my name all sultry and alluring as if that means I can do anything about it.
“It doesn’t matter. Not here. I wasn’t joking when I said student-professor relations aren’t allowed. I’d get the sack. I’d lose my tenure.”
“You’re prevaricating. Tell me who hurt you…”
She pulls me by the chin to face her, then leans down as if she’s going to brush her lips over mine. I place my hands on her chest and push.
Professor Alistair Ironheart steps into view. His eyes slide down to where my hands are outstretched. His laser focus is so acute it makes me flinch.
He swings his gaze between us. “Everything okay, Professor C?—?”
“Yes, thank you, Alistair. I know Midnight, outside of the Academy,” I say, making sure I accentuate his name. He might think he’s being polite, but I don’t need anyone sticking their nose into my business.
Besides, as Head of House Inferos, I technically outrank him, and he needs to remember that.
“I see. Well, mind you keep it professional.” He gives me a curt nod and disappears.
“I have to go,” I say and hobble my way out from under the arch, leaving Midnight in my wake.
Professors congregate around the outside of the Hall of Unfinished Business. It looks like nearly sixty students made it through the Severance Rite. Though that’s less than half our cohort of ten years ago.
“Students, if you please, reveal your scars,” I say, clapping to signal for silence. I receive a few tentative looks, and then they all brandish the scars over their sternums.
Alistair jostles the students into lines.
He wears the Finis Academy uniform like me.
It’s pressed into sharp lines and against his black skin forms a stark darkness behind his yellow demonic eyes.
Long dreadlocks cling to his back. The only part of him that’s out of place are a few loose coils that curl around his scalp, needing to be retwisted.
“Why do you need to see the scars?” a male student asks.
“To place you in your Houses,” I answer. “Now, come on.”
Alistair examines the man’s scar and places him to the left. “House Vitalis.”
So ensues a rapid sorting and calling out of: Vitalis, Mortis, Inferos.
“What’s Vitalis?” the man says.
“House of Life. Your likely area of focused study will be either Theoretical Death studies, Business Dealing, or Memory Magic,” Alistair says, tugging at a woman to stand behind him.
Several students are pulled into the House Mortis line.
That’s for the Eytomancers, Fabric Weavers and Resurrectionists.
Contracts is an odd topic because it doesn’t fit squarely into any of the seven main magic disciplines.
Mostly because it skims across them all.
It’s the everything and nothing subject.