Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
Elodie
When Stella suggested we evaluate each other’s Defensive Tactics assignments after class, I couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse to refuse. Sorry, I can’t study because I need to study wasn’t going to cut it.
Anyway, I don’t want my friends getting overly curious and interrupting my investigations now that I might really be getting somewhere.
Out of Other Elodie’s four besties, Stella’s sophisticated vibe is definitely the easiest to tolerate, even if every now and then I catch her giving me an assessing look that feels kind of judgy. I’ve been judging the heck out of my double too, so who am I to complain?
And it turns out she has a talent for figuring out how to fend off magical mind assaults. She makes a couple of suggestions to tweak Other Elodie’s project that would make it at least a little less likely some unknown enemy could fry my brain.
I’m hoping I’ll never have to present the assignment anyway, but I can still appreciate the gesture.
“Thanks for the tips,” I say as we head out to the front of the school to wait for our chauffeurs.
“Not a problem.” Stella flashes me a smile. “That’s what friends are for, aren’t they?”
Hard to say, with friends like these. But it is starting to feel overly insulting to compare her to a dog, even a graceful one.
Even if my doppelganger’s friends are all snobs, I don’t have to sink to their level.
Her driver arrives first—naturally, because I only pretended to text Maurice. I wave good-bye, wait until the sedan has cruised around a corner farther down the street, and then head south.
It’s a tricky balance, looking like I’m taking a casual stroll while actually hurrying.
Most of Other Elodie’s notes about “DVB” indicated times within a couple of hours after regular classes end at Luminary.
I don’t want to lose my chance to figure out what my double might have been recording about our sister school.
If Beacon Prep even is what my double was referring to.
I push my doubts aside as I amble along the sloping street that slants up past our graduate studies building and then down toward the Beacon campus. One small benefit of the delay: there are fewer Luminary students hanging around to wonder where Elodie Devine is going.
Blocky concrete buildings come into view across the street from the grad building’s steep lawn. My steps slow.
Even in my own reality, I haven’t ventured over to Beacon Prep in years. The contrast smacks me in the face.
Fuck if it doesn’t look like a prison.
The four dull gray buildings—elementary, junior, senior, and administrative—stand in a square around their own, much patchier green.
The shape is echoed in the small square windows that dot the buildings’ outer walls in strict lines.
At least the chain-link fence that surrounds most of the campus is only chest high and free of barbed wire.
If it wasn’t for Mom’s efforts, this is where I’d have spent the last fourteen years of my life.
As many reasons as I have to hate Luminary Academy, no part of me imagines I’d have been better off at Beacon. The nickname Grady used for the place is awful but hardly inaccurate.
Some of the Beacon Prep students will end up in low but relatively safe positions serving more prominent lucents: in clubs like The Eclipse or as secretaries and personal assistants and chauffeurs like Maurice.
But most of them will be assigned to squads around North America to tackle the growing void problem.
We’re taught that centuries ago, void creatures were so uncommon that there are no surviving reports.
The theory most lucent researchers put forward is that the emergence of voids has something to do with the disappearance of the radiants, possibly influenced by industrialization and modern technology as well.
But no one knows exactly why we now find animals—and occasionally people—completely lacking in ephemera. They contain no life energy, no spirit or soul or whatever you’d want to call it. It leaves them mindless… and hostile in their mindlessness.
Think horror-movie zombies, except they’re looking to tear apart everything in their path rather than fixating on brains.
The leaders of lucent society like to say that our radiant ancestors charged us with a sacred duty before they faded away. It’s up to us to protect human civilization and steer it onto a better path.
From what I’ve seen, most of the high-ranking lucent families are focused on getting themselves on as lucrative and powerful a path as possible, to hell with anyone else. But the Beacon graduates who go out to watch for and destroy any voids that appear—they fulfill our supposed great calling.
Whether they want to or not.
I meander along the sidewalk across the street from the campus and find myself gazing at the two tall apartment buildings of matching concrete that tower over the school.
The lucent community isn’t big enough to support multiple educational institutions across the continent.
When our authorities discover kids with newly emerged magical talent, they uproot them from their drab families to bring them here.
When a lucent family working elsewhere has kids, they’re scooped up as soon as they’re due to start their schooling.
One of those apartment buildings houses all the solo kids in dorms, watched over by lucent caretakers, forbidden from speaking to any drab relatives they left behind. The other is home to many of the longer-established but poorer lucent families who have positions in the city.
It’s by far the cheapest accommodation within walking distance to the schools. The lower-class families who prefer a little more independence have to find their homes farther afield, like Mom did.
Like my matches and I did, in my reality.
I swallow down the lump that thought brings to my throat and continue my circuit of the campus. Staying late seems to be the norm at Beacon; lots of kids ranging from preteens to my age are only just now drifting away from the school.
Keeping my ears pricked, I catch some explanations in the chatter. One older teen rubs his arm and mutters, “Remedial combat? More like remedial beatdowns.”
A younger girl grimaces at her friends. “I can’t believe Mrs. Donaldson gave us detention again. Next time I’m going to shove that pen down her throat.”
A frazzled looking kid sighs where she’s marching next to a guy who looks like her older brother. “Why won’t they let us bring books home from the library? I hate having to do all the reading in there.”
As I stroll along, I get lots of sideways glances at my Luminary uniform, which I’ve done nothing to cover up. I even give my blazer a little tug now and then for a rustle of fabric and a glint of the crest’s gold embroidery catching the sunlight.
Lots of narrowed eyes flick over my face after they notice me, judging me in a very different way than Stella would have.
Every time, I look back at them, watching for any hint of recognition, of a more personal anger than a resentment of anyone from the opposing campus. Maybe even a friendly welcome. I have no clue at all what my doppelganger might have been up to here.
Was she meeting a secret boyfriend—or more than one? Buying drugs or, for all I know, dealing them? Finding some other escape from her frustrations with her poor-little-rich-girl life?
I don’t get the impression that any of the students see me as anything other than an unwelcome stranger, though. No sign of any mysterious black sedans either.
When I’ve come all the way back around to the north end of the campus, I cross the street and dawdle at the edge of the school parking lot. Maybe closer proximity will flush someone out.
After a few minutes, a couple of guys who look to be around sixteen veer my way. When I glance at them, one boy’s lip is already curled with disgust. My pulse jumps with an unsettling mix of hope and dread.
“What are you doing here, fancy girl?” the first guy asks as they come to a halt a few paces away. His gaze skims over me, hard and cold, but to my disappointment there’s no familiarity in his tone. “Got bored living the high life?”
His friend puffs up, flexing his shoulders beneath his track jacket. “All those Luminary assholes think even their shit shines. We don’t want any shiners around here.”
I don’t think they know Elodie, but the confrontation might catch the attention of someone who does. Just to be safe, I tuck my hands into my blazer’s pockets so I can grip the knife I’m still carrying.
“I’m just walking by,” I say in a mild tone, scanning the parking lot for other persons of interest. “Not trying to offend anyone.”
The first guy snorts. “We’re not a fucking zoo for you to vacation at. Go walk somewhere else.”
I shrug. “I’m pretty sure this sidewalk is free to everyone.”
His mouth pulls into a scowl, but his friend snickers. “If she wants to hang around… why don’t we see if that ass really glows?”
He twists his hand, and a gust of ephemera-driven breeze whisks past—and under—my skirt.
I doubt they catch more than a glimpse of my panties before I’ve slapped the fabric back down. I’m rolling my eyes, forming a retort before moving on, when a massive figure hurtles between us.
In a split-second, Salvatore has sent the first boy staggering backward while smacking the legs out from under the second. He shoves the second guy right onto his back on the pavement and plants his foot on the guy’s chest.
“Don’t fucking think about it,” he warns with a flash of his teeth as the guy starts to squirm. Salvatore’s bright blue eyes gleam and his face has flushed with exhilaration as if this is the most fun he’s had in years.
The first guy freezes in place. His friend goes still too, staring up at the apparent maniac who’s tackled him.
Where the hell did Salvatore even come from?
I release my knife and fold my arms over my chest. “What are you doing?”
Salvatore glances over his shoulder at me with a gleeful grin. “Happy to come to your rescue, tesoro. These idiots needed an ass-kicking.” He shifts his attention to the guy who’s still standing as if considering whether he could topple both without letting go of his main victim.
Irritation twists the automatic tug in my heart.
Is he fucking kidding me? How did he happen to be nearby to see what was going on in the first place?
Just a horrible coincidence, I assume. Salvatore’s family business would take him into the less savory parts of town fairly often.
I resist the urge to grit my teeth. “I didn’t need rescuing. They are idiots—and so are you. I was perfectly fine.”
The first guy backs up a few steps, holding up his hands. “Yeah. We, uh—we don’t want a fight.”
“Shouldn’t have been harassing my girl, then.” Salvatore pulls out his own knife, which is much deadlier-looking than mine, and twirls it between his broad fingers. “Maybe I should stick this up both your asses.”
The guy he pinned turns sickly pale. “I swear we’re not going to bother her again.”
I’d protest that I’m not “his” girl, but it’s hard to tell whether that would defuse Salvatore’s temper or provoke him further. Which seems like an especially urgent consideration when he leans down to yank up the boy’s sleeve.
“Oh, but I’ll feel better if I make totally sure of that.” He drags his blade along the pale skin of the boy’s forearm to produce a pale line of blood. “Let’s see. How do you spell I’m a fuckhead?”
He looks just as eager as before and terrifyingly serious. My pulse stutters.
I have to say something before this situation spirals out of control.
“Enough!” I push forward and hold out my hand. The tug inside me deepens as I get closer to Salvatore. I tamp down the panic that tells me I should be putting more distance between us before fate ramps up the tension even more.
Instead, I wave at the boy on the ground. “They’re just kids. They’ve got plenty of reasons to be pissed off at people from Luminary. You made your point, so let him go.”
Salvatore gives me a speculative look. “It’s no trouble at all, a thaisce. They obviously have more lessons to learn."
I give him as stony a stare as I can summon in response. “I’d rather not be any part of teaching those lessons. I’m saying you should drop it. Or is this not about me after all?”
If his inclinations are like my Salvatore’s, the only reason he hasn’t outright butchered the boy under his foot is that only magic touched me, not the guy himself. If the kid had laid his hand on my ass, he’d be missing a few fingers now.
But it was just a stupid prank… and apparently the mafia heir has decided he respects my boundaries today.
With a sigh, Salvatore removes his foot and uses it to prod the guy’s ribs. “You’d better hope you don’t meet me again. I’ll hope you do. Get going.”
The guy scampers up and dashes away with his friend. Salvatore flips his switchblade shut and into the pocket of his slacks before aiming another grin at me, so casual you’d never think he was just carving up a kid. “Where to now?”
I should be glad he isn’t asking why I’m over here at all, but the insinuation that we’ll be going anywhere together sets my jaw on edge. I’m obviously not making any progress with my investigations today.
“Oh, I’m heading straight to None of Your Fucking Business,” I reply. Spinning on my heel, I hurry before the ache in my palm can cry out any louder.