CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
It’s the day of the witches’ ball, a certain flurry of activity overtaking the Academy. With the promise of flowing alcohol, terrible dancing, and drunken sex to follow, the gloom that has fallen over the Academy these last weeks is all but forgotten.
Frankly, if Isadora is Mortis or not, I intend to enjoy myself tonight—something I’ve done very little of since I arrived, my encounters with Damien aside.
As for my suspicions about the Headmistress, I’ll take them to the Professor after the ball. If he decides to reward me with that expert tongue of his, so be it. For now, I think there’s a certain safety in numbers.
Lily arrives at my door an hour before the ball looking far from the carefree girl I first met. Even the once vibrant pink in her hair seems dimmer now.
“What happened to you?” I ask, ushering her in. “Shouldn’t you be with—”
Ava walks in behind her.
Lily gives me a loose smile. “So here we are, the three amigos.”
I have to smile at that. “Belles of the ball.”
Lily gives me a light snort. “You’ll have to fight Cassandra for that honor, and no, I don’t mean actually fuck her up again.”
I raise my hands. Power prickles to my fingertips. Since last night I’ve felt fucking electric—untouchable. “It’s fine. I’m done with Cassandra.”
“You sure?” questions Ava, picking at something on her shirt, which reads ‘Who Killed Marilyn?’
“If the Headmistress is Mortis, we’ll deal with her. I’ll go to Darkwood after the ball and come up with a plan.”
“I thought we weren’t sure?” asks Ava.
I pull in a breath. “When we were leaving her office the other night, I touched her robe on the way out, and I felt something.”
“Rabies?” Lily offers.
“No, but something seriously, seriously dark. Add that to the lock, seeing her after the second murder…”
I recall something else from touching her robe, something I’ve been unable to recollect until now. “I don’t think these murders are Mortis eliminating threats; I think it’s a way for her, him, whatever, to grow their power. Each kill makes them stronger.”
“Fuck,” exclaims Lily.
“So if the Headmistress is Mortis,” I continue, “we need to find a way to take her out before she becomes too powerful. Who knows how long she’s been at this, how powerful she has become.”
Lily laughs. “You can’t be serious. I thought we were all about defense, not offense.”
I shrug. “Well, not alone, no, but I might have picked up a thing or two with Damien.”
“Like how to gobble cock?” Lily says.
I shake my head and can’t help but smile. “You’re fucking terrible, you know that?”
She smiles back. “If it is Isadora, that bitch is going down. I’ll help…observe, supervise…something that doesn’t involve putting myself in mortal danger.”
“How heroic.” I look to Ava. “And you?”
“I’ll help too, but shouldn’t we try and get a message out, ask for help, or backup? Darkwood’s powerful, but Mortis? That’s an unknown.”
“You’re right. Leave it to me. Now,” I tell them, looking to the gown from Adams I’ve laid out on the bed, “anyone want to tell me how the hell I get into this thing again?”
*
I’m in a better mood once I’ve managed to constrict myself into the gown. It seemed so much easier back at the village store. Here I had Ava behind me, one foot against my back, holding the zipper, Lily crouched down holding the bottom basically eating my ass to get this thing on. If anyone had walked in it would have been quite the sight, but it’s on, and damn, it looks fucking amazing.
I thought the Dior was something special, but this gown, these gloves… It’ll be quite the debut.
The others leave, allowing me a moment of peace.
A threefold knock on the door snaps me out of my daydreaming in the mirror. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” I call.
“It’s me,” comes the baritone voice.
I rush to the door, opening to find Damien standing there looking like absolute poison perfection in a black tuxedo.
My gaze falls on a black box he’s holding underarm.
He looks down at it. “Soon, but first, tell me what’s on your mind, because I know you’re dying to get something off your chest, isn’t that right?”
He closes the door behind himself while I swan to the center of the room. Fuck it. He knows. He always knows. Better to come out with it. “It’s Isadora, isn’t it?” I tell him.
He places the box on the bed. “I’m afraid so.”
I look at him more keenly, can see more easily past the manipulation now. “You’ve known all along, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” he says, sliding his hands into his pockets, “as did your parents.”
“So why couldn’t you stop her?”
He purses his lips and scratches his jaw, pacing away from me. “I couldn’t stop her, Ana. Not alone. I couldn’t turn her in, either. It would have been her word against mine. We had no hard evidence. Your parents…” He ceases talking altogether, a smile of bitterness spreading across his face. “We were close, and they were powerful, but I knew after their death it would take more. A weapon would have to be sculpted, a weapon of precise purpose.”
I fill in the blanks, a horrifying realization coming over me. “And that weapon is me?”
He nods. “It is. They knew it too. They knew that in my hands, taken through the trials, you could become more powerful than the three of us combined and finally put an end to this.”
I’m trying to put this together. “They gave their blessing, for you to…” I can’t even verbalize it, to hash out what we’ve done together, the Professor and me.
“Yes,” he says, stepping forward and taking my shoulders, “but I also promised to keep you safe, to watch over you,” he sighs, dipping his head. “That is where I made my biggest mistake.”
“What do you mean?”
He looks at me, eyes remarkably soft even though they continue to burn with purpose. “I became infatuated with you over the years—obsessed. I watched you grow from a child into a beautiful young woman and knew I had to bide my time, to wait until you,” he pauses, seems to have trouble coming up with the appropriate word, “matured,” he finishes.
I don’t know what to make of this. Should I feel sickened I was stalked and groomed, that my parents promised me to this monster of a man, knowing exactly what he’d do to me? Should I be thankful for his protection? Disgusted?
I don’t know.
He raises my chin up with a solitary finger. “I cannot tell you how I suffered seeing you with other men, their filthy hands on you…but I made sure they never took your innocence. That was mine,” he growls. “It always has been. The thought of you with someone else…” I see the rage on his face, all-consuming. “I could not bear it, so I made sure.”
The mind control. He’s used it on them, on me…who else?
His grip on my shoulders firms. “You don’t understand, Ana. If they had taken your innocence, I could have never lived with myself. I would have had to kill them—or worse.”
A bell sounds out, marking the start of the ball.
“There’s more you should know,” Damien tells me, “about your parents, about my oath to them, but it can wait. I want you to enjoy yourself tonight.”
“And Isadora?”
“Later,” he smiles, pressing his lips to my forehead. “For now, forget about such things. For now, act as if everything is as it should be.”
*
There must be over two hundred people in the Academy ballroom and yet it still looks empty. There are floating disco balls above, modern lighting brought in that sweeps around the room. Mixed with the candlelight coming from the perimeter of the room, it’s nothing short of incredible.
I reach up to adjust my lamb mask—the very same one I wore in New York gifted once more to me by the Professor in his little black box.
I pass him now in his wolf mask, but he’s engaged with other faculty members.
I come up to Lily and Ava. Lily’s in a pink gown that somewhat matches her hair wearing a Minnie Mouse mask. Ava’s in black—no surprise there—with a Velma Dinkley mask, which makes perfect sense.
“The Velma mask suits you,” I comment, forcing a smile as I turn my attention to Lily. “Same goes for you, Lily,” who scoffs. “Well, you know what they say about Disney.”
“What’s that? Hakuna matata?” says Ava, voice muffled.
Lily’s head gives a little wobble. “If you can dream it, you can do it.”
I laugh. “I’m dreaming of a drink right now. How about that?”
Lily clicks her fingers. “Allow me.”
She turns and glides away to what appears to be a very extensive bar over to the side of the room stocked with all manner of kaleidoscopic bottles.
I look around.
No sign of the Headmistress.
Madonna’s Hung Up plays from speakers unseen as Ava leans over towards me and shouts in my ear. “Can’t help but notice your dear professor is a wolf tonight.”
I look over to where Damien was standing, but he’s gone. “He’s always been a wolf,” I reply.
“And yet,” says Ava, “I didn’t think wolves concerned themselves with the opinions of sheep.”
A valid point, but I’m too busy trying to find him to come up with a clever comeback.
“At least tell me he’s a good lay.”
I look to Ava surprised. “You feeling okay?” Because now I’m looking at her properly, she does seem a touch tipsy.
She shrugs. “Lils and I may have had a few pre-drinks.”
“How many?”
She holds up one finger, which becomes two and then three.
“Jesus,” I laugh.
“Evening, ladies!” We both turn to find Leo standing there in a white tux. He’s wearing a Loki mask, which also makes perfect sense. “Are we having fun yet?” he says, holding up a glass of some pearlescent golden liquid.
“Sure,” I answer cordially. I’d forgotten the poor guy actually existed.
“Woohoo!” Lily cheers, strolling back to our spot and passing a glass across to me with a rather darker liquid.
I hold it up to the light, which doesn’t make it any more appetizing. “What is it?”
Lily shrugs. “Peruvian penis juice? I don’t know, but I’ve got to go to the little girls’ room, so come on, drink up.”
I shake my head and start drinking, Lily reaching over to the bottom of the glass to tilt it up until I’ve drunken the whole, vile thing.
I give a light cough, tapping my chest as Lily takes the glass from me and places it onto a nearby table. She takes my hand and Ava’s, nodding to Leo. “See you soon.”
Lily drags us out of the ballroom and down the hall outside towards the lower bathrooms.
We enter alone, all three of us removing our masks at the row of mirrors, a light sheen of sweat on my forehead already.
Lily grips the side of the vanity. “Thing’s fucking hot. Now, I’ve got to pee.” She waddles off to a stall, Ava thumbing behind herself. “Likewise.”
I’m left alone at the mirror staring at myself and kind of shocked how different I look to that clumsy waitress from New York.
How far you have come, I tell myself.
What would Gran think if she could see me now? Sabrina? My parents?
The music from the ball is faint—just a light rumble along the walls and floor.
Ava returns to wash her hands, Lily emerging from the stall she entered.
That’s when I notice it.
Ava sees my expression. “What is it?”
“The music…it cut out.”
All three of us go silent, listening, but there’s nothing.
“Maybe it’s just Leo fucking ar—”
Lily doesn’t get the rest of her sentence out as a cacophony of screams can be heard down the hall.
They don’t stop.
No, they seem to grow in volume, more terrible and sinister by the second.
“Fuck,” says Lily.
“Come on,” I tell them, racing back out through the door and running as fast as I can down the hall, Ava and Lily trailing behind me.
The screams grow in volume, almost unbearable—a maelstrom of pain and anguish.
I burst through the doors, coming into the ballroom first.
At first, I cannot make out quite what is going on, but a light sweeps across the room and the real horror becomes clear.
There are bodies strewn across the dance floor. Too many to count.
The light sweeps further across the room to reveal more, swathes of black that can only be blood across the walls and floor, the tables and bar. That’s what I smell in the air, almost losing my stomach right then and there as I try to fathom what I’m looking at it.
It’s a massacre.
Straight ahead, I see a Loki mask broken in two. Not far from it, Leo is on his back, his torso torn to shreds, a giant hole through it, his head connected to his body only by a fleshy rope of muscle.
I shorten my strides, the view mixing terror and dread as I get closer to his body.
I jump when Leo’s head moves, blood gushing out of his mouth as he coughs. His eyes still, and turn glassy.
“Leo?” Lily’s voice is so faint as be almost imperceivable, the wet sound of vomit hitting the floor I have to assume is Ava.
But another sound draws my attention.
Just ten yards from where I’m standing the Headmistress plunges her arm right through someone’s gut. She sneers, everything up to her shoulder a blackened blade. There’s a sickening crunch as she twists her arm, the body sliding slack to the floor.
Fuck.
I have should seen this coming, should have done something…
The Headmistress turns towards me, blood and gristle dripping from the shadow blade that has become her arm.
“Move!” Damien’s stentorian voice rumbles.
I turn to see him ushering Lily and Ava through a portal, waving me over.
We need to fight, not flee, but I react only to his voice, running for the portal and reaching for his hand, the portal swallowing me fast.