18. Lucy
Lucy
I come to with a coarse and oddly moist scouring pad being dragged under my nose.
“What the fuck?” I groan, swatting it away.
A loud engine hums in my ear and then something fluffy aggressively nudges my head and begins licking my nose again.
I peel open my eyes to find the vibrant orange of feline irises staring down at me. Though, I can also see through them.
“Demon’s sake. Get off me,” I swat at the cat.
It must be one of our campus shade animals.
Like the mortals, they couldn’t quite let go of their past lives, so they became shades.
Most of the time, the Loose End first-years manage to dispatch them on.
But a handful of the most stubborn animals gets stuck on campus and end up adopting a student each year.
“My name is Mortem,” he meows.
“As in Mortimer?” I say.
He licks his paw, a distinct look of disdain twitching his whiskers.
“As in post-mortem.”
I blink at him.
He blinks back.
“Post—” I start.
“Yes,” he hisses and swipes his tongue under my nose, licking up the last of my drying blood.
“Get off,” I whine and sit up so he falls off my chest. He flops to the bed and begins cleaning his face.
“Delicious,” he purrs before curling up and falling asleep.
My nose wrinkles. Gross. I shoo him. But he stares blankly at me.
“Where did the students go?” I ask Alistair, who is sat in a chair beside my bed.
I glance around. I’m in the medical wing.
“Seven bells rang, they were sent to bed.”
“I see.”
“Are you okay?” he says. “You’ve only been out about an hour or so.”
“I think so,” I answer, moving my limbs this way and that. “Magic surge?”
“Yeah, docs think you tapped too much, and it blew your circuits.” He taps his scalp.
“Figures.” I lie back against the pillow. “Can I leave?”
Alistair nods. “They’re not worried, I just thought I’d stay until you woke. Thalia popped in too but was summoned by Arcadius.”
“That was nice of her. Honestly, there’s nothing I want more than a bath and a glass of wine.”
He smiles and gets out of his chair. “I’ll see you in the morning for first classes.” He rubs my shoulder before leaving.
I get out of bed and make my way to medical reception. The nurse hands me a bottle of painkillers, which I gratefully take, and I leave.
Which is when I remember I’m not going home to my wonderful, quiet bath. I have a new apartment in House Inferos that will no doubt be covered in boxes.
One small silver lining about living in the penthouse of House Inferos is that the view will be fantastic on the days when the mists actually abate.
I head to the staff faculty block and track down the maintenance team to collect my keys and then schlep my weary arse all the way across campus to House Inferos.
Once inside, I trudge up to the penthouse, slide the key into the door, open the apartment and scream.
Familiar orange eyes blink back at me.
“Helloooow,” Mortem meows.
“Oh no. Oh, hell no. Come on, shoo. Out.”
He sits down.
Fuck my life.
“Out. You. Go…” I try to shoo the cat out of my space, but my hands slip right through his body.
Demon’s sake.
“Mortem…” I growl.
“Yes?” he purrs.
I gesture at the door.
He stretches. Bum up, paws down. His back arches, his fluffy tail bristling. Finally, he pads forward towards the door, only to turn around and stroll into the heart of the apartment.
“MORTEM,” I squeal, high-pitched and frantic. “I can’t… I don’t do pets.”
“You have moths,” he purrs.
“THEY’RE DEAD,” I shriek, my hands flapping erratically.
“So am I.” He runs around the corner into the bedroom and vanishes.
I make my way inside through the kitchen and into the open-plan living area and freeze. The place is trashed. All my boxes are upturned, my belongings strewn across the floor.
There’s the creak of floorboards.
Goosebumps crawl over my skin, I stagger back into the kitchen, yank open a drawer and grab a knife.
Ribbon-like shadows slink along the skirting boards. My heart rate shoots up. My fingers grow cold.
I raise the knife.
Father steps around the corner. “Whoa!” he says.
“Demon’s sake. I thought you were a burglar.” I chuck the knife in the sink as he opens his arms to hug me.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as I disentangle myself.
“I came to see how the Head of House Inferos was settling into her apartment… And maybe to see if you were okay after the attack. But when I got here, the door was open.”
“This wasn’t you?”
“Why would I trash your apartment?”
I’m about to say he’s done a lot worse but now is not the time to start an argument.
“Then who did?” I ask.
He shakes his head, as if he’s as confused as me. It makes a bead of unease grow in my gut. My father is never unsure. His ego makes sure of that.
“Do you think it’s the Societas?” I ask.
“It makes the most logical sense. Given what I did to Architecti, they’ve always had an interest in me. It makes sense they’d come for you next.”
The words flow off his tongue so easy. Too easy. But my brain is addled and exhausted, and I can’t parse the truth from the lies.
“You’ll need heightened security on House Inferos’s doors. I’ll see to that before morning.”
“Okay.” I shrug.
“Okay? Lucy, do you have any idea how precious you are to me? I won’t let any harm come to you.”
He pulls me in tight. Too tight.
“Father, I’m fine.”
I wriggle out of his grip, and he cups my cheeks, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You must be protected.”
His words are odd, as if they don’t quite fit the mould of his sentence, but I’m exhausted, and a memory trickles back to me: the Veil tear and the neatness of the cut.
“Did you witness the tears that happened before term started?” I ask.
He nods.
“What was the fabric like?”
“Why?” he asks, expression thin.
“Usually tears are frayed, right? Their edges all rough where the fabric bulged and snapped?”
“Correct.”
“This wasn’t, it was very neat. Too neat, almost like the fabric was sliced. But I’ve never seen that.”
He recoils, his forehead crumpling in concentration. “You think it was cut intentionally?”
“Perhaps? Someone broke into my apartment on the same night there was a Veil attack. So something is going on, and I’d put money on the two events being connected. What I don’t understand is why me?”
Father’s fists ball. There is something here, something going on, but I see the simmering twitch in his eyelid. He’s reached the end of his tether, and I carry the memories of what happens if you keep pushing.
“I have to go. Make sure you lock all the doors and windows. I’ll see to it that there’s security on the entrances and exits.”
I want to protest to ask more, call him out for avoiding the questions but every bone in my body is weary, and if I push him too hard there will be consequences.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” I say.
He leaves without another word.
The apartment is warm tonight, and I find myself grateful that maintenance started the fire.
Upturned boxes are everywhere. Dresses and jackets spilled over the floor. My academic texts and stationery strewn across the living room.
I tidy what I can before exhaustion eats away at the marrow of my soul and I decide to leave the rest, opting instead to hunt for bathing equipment.
It takes a minute or two, but I find a towel and some soap and head for the shower.
My heart sinks when I realise there’s no bath.
Reluctantly, I switch the shower on. It runs warm so I open the frosted window to stop the steam.
I’ll just have to be extra careful not to show the world my naked body.
I strip and climb in, lathering up my skin.
No wine, no bath… There’s only one other comfort I can think of that would make things better.
I slip my hand between my thighs, cleansing my most intimate parts, then brush the thumb over my clit, sending a pulse through my body.
Exhaustion gnaws at every inch of me, but my fingers glide between my folds, picking up the bubbles and using them to massage my apex.
My nipples tighten. I lean back and slide down the tiles. Once sat, I spread my legs.
Midnight’s face flickers in my mind. Those crystalline eyes glinting at me. Her expression cocky, assured. A moan slips out. Fuck.
I can’t be having thoughts like this, not now she’s a student. The last thing I want is to get her expelled. And I definitely do not want to get fired, either. I shove the images of Midnight down deep.
I rub harder, my clit pulsing, my pussy tightening.
The smell of vetiver and grapefruit, the scent of Midnight drifts through my senses.
What the hell? Images of her sliding her hands down my trousers float through my mind and my body stiffens in response.
I’m teetering on the precipice of coming with visions of her littering my thoughts.
A gasp shatters the quiet.
I freeze, my mind shunted back to high alert. I glance out the shower and through the open window, but there’s no one there. Though the feeling of being watched doesn’t wash away with the soap. It clings to my skin.
I poke my head out the shower, but I’m just being paranoid. I’ll take a knife to bed with me tonight, otherwise I’m not sleeping.
I slide down the tiles until I’m sitting again and resume masturbating.
One hand skirts low, my fingers gliding between my folds and dipping into my entrance.
My other hand finds my clit as I add another finger inside myself.
Midnight’s name hovers on my lips as I fuck myself into oblivion.
Thoughts and images of her swirl around my mind.
My pussy clenches, driving me higher, and I think I whisper her name as I spill over into the best relief I’ve had all day. The fact it was with my hands in my cunt and Midnight in my mind is something I’ll worry about in the morning.