Bonus Chapter
Detention: Bechora
I stood outside Professor Thrackborne’s office just after dusk, Zypher and Gabriel flanking me.
The lights threw long shadows across the stone hall, and I couldn’t keep myself from sneaking glances at the vampire by my side.
Gabriel hadn’t complained once about being given detention in the wake of my outburst in Human Studies.
I’d braced for sarcasm, for sharp remarks meant to belittle me—just like he’d done so many times before—but instead there was silence.
Controlled, brooding silence that pressed heavier against me than any insult ever had.
His eyes, when they caught mine, no longer held the venom I remembered.
Was it resignation? A truce? Or had something shifted in him as much as it had in me?
I wasn’t certain I was ready to press for answers.
Zypher reached up and knocked on Thrackborne’s door, the sound echoing through the heavy silence.
I could hear the grumpy professor moving around on the other side just before the door swung open.
Professor Thrackborne stood in the doorway, a leather satchel dangling from his fingers, as he stared at us.
My body threatened to sway toward him, that irritating pull to the dragon shifter coming to life.
“Follow me,” he clipped, stepping around us into the hallway. His boots struck the stone floor with sharp finality, each step daring us to keep up.
I exchanged a glance with Zypher, then fell in line between him and Gabriel as Thrackborne led us across the quad.
The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of damp grass and the lingering ink-and-paper tang of classrooms shuttered for the evening.
For a moment, I thought we were being dragged to the library, but Thrackborne veered sharply toward one of the lesser-used academic wings.
The building loomed ahead, its windows blackened and cracked open just enough to let an eerie sound filter through—a faint, incessant chit-chit-chit that prickled along my skin like crawling ants.
Thrackborne stopped at the doors, swung the satchel off his shoulder, rummaged inside, and pulled free three pale nets, their strands shimmering faintly with script I didn’t recognize.
He shoved one at each of us before speaking.
“Chitterfae infestation,” he grumbled, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. “They’ve claimed this building. You’ll clear them out.”
“Chitterfae?” I echoed, turning the net over in my hands.
“The nets are spelled,” Thrackborne continued, ignoring me.
“They’ll daze the creatures long enough for you to toss them into the cages.
You’ll find those in the first empty classroom.
Don’t damage the building, and don’t come back until it’s done.
” He shoved the satchel at Gabriel, who caught it with effortless precision, then gave us one last scowl before striding away as if this entire mess was no longer his problem.
I opened my mouth, then shut it when Zypher leaned close, his tone patient as he explained, “Chitterfae are small—smaller than your hand. They have wings, sharp teeth, and a temperament fouler than a demon with a toothache.”
“They’re relentless,” Gabriel added, voice low. “Always in swarms. Their chittering never stops, and their bites are venomous. Not deadly,” he amended at my raised brows, “but enough to leave welts that take weeks to heal.”
“Magical cream is usually required,” Zypher said with a grimace. “And even then, the sting lingers.”
I glanced at the darkened windows of the building, the sound of that incessant chittering crawling into my ears and under my skin. Tiny, vicious, winged beasts. Of course, Thrackborne thought tossing us into a nest of them was an appropriate punishment.
Gabriel pushed the doors open first, the hinges groaning in protest as the stale air inside hit us like a wave.
The smell of dust and mildew was sharp enough to sting my nose, but it was quickly drowned out by the shrill chorus of chit-chit-chit erupting from the shadows.
The moment we stepped into the hall, movement exploded above us.
Tiny shapes darted across the ceiling, their wings beating so fast they blurred.
The swarms’ glittering eyes caught in the light as Gabriel put on a burst of speed to flip on the light switches.
Something smacked against the side of my head, a crumpled notebook tumbling to the floor at my feet.
“They throw things?” I yelped, ducking as another one lobbed an empty glass bottle that shattered against the wall beside me.
“They throw anything they can get their claws on, Dilectus,” Zypher said grimly, raising his net. “Be prepared.”
Before I could respond, pain lanced across my scalp. “Ow!” I yanked downward only to find a Chitterfae tangled in my hair, its sharp teeth nipping gleefully at my ear.
I swung wildly, but the creature screeched and tugged harder, pulling my hair until my eyes watered.
Gabriel’s hand shot out, tossing his net with practiced ease.
He whipped it through the air, the glowing strands flaring as they tangled around the Chitterfae in my hair.
The little beast shrieked once before going limp, dazed by the spell.
He yanked it free and tossed it toward the open door of a cage Zypher had retrieved while I’d been dealing with the creature in my hair.
“One,” Gabriel said simply, as though keeping score.
Another swarm dove from the rafters, pelting us with erasers, broken chalk, even a cracked desk leg one had managed to haul into the air.
I ducked again, swinging my net clumsily and nearly snagging nothing but air.
But one of the creatures veered too close, and the shimmering strands wrapped around its wings.
It tumbled to the ground with a hiss, stunned, and I scrambled to shove it into the cage before it regained its senses.
The chittering rose to a fever pitch. They were everywhere—clawing at Zypher’s shoulders, buzzing in Gabriel’s hair, snapping their needle-sharp teeth as they dive-bombed us from the ceiling beams. My arms already stung from shallow bites, each welt burning as if set aflame.
“Keep them distracted!” Gabriel barked.
“Distracted? They’re already throwing a classroom at us!” I shouted, flinching as a Chitterfae hurled a chair that splintered against the wall inches from his head.
The vampire didn’t flinch. He snared three at once with a single sweep of his net, expression cool despite the blood beading at his temple where one had clawed him.
He shoved them into the cage with efficient precision, his voice calm as he said, “You’re terrible with the net, and your shouting is only exciting them.
Just keep them busy and let me and Zypher catch them. ”
“Oh, excuse me for not being composed while bugs try to scalp me!” I snapped, swiping another off my arm. Both of my mates smirked at me before returning their full attention to the task at hand.
The hours bled together in a haze of wings, claws, and stinging bites.
Every time I thought the swarm might finally be thinning, another wave spilled out of the classrooms and stairwells, their shrill chittering echoing so loudly I thought it might never leave my ears.
My arms and shoulders burned with welts, my hair tangled where claws had ripped through it, and my net was frayed at the edges from how many times I’d swung it.
By the time the first blush of predawn light seeped through the dusty windows, the building had gone quiet.
The last of the Chitterfae lay dazed in the cage at Gabriel’s feet, the once-writhing mass of furious wings reduced to an exhausted, angry heap.
I sagged against the nearest wall, dragging in deep breaths as sweat clung to my neck. My arms throbbed. My scalp ached. My voice was hoarse from swearing at the little monsters. “If this is what detention looks like,” I croaked, “I’d almost rather be expelled.”