Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Bellcolor
I make my way through the revelers. It took me some time to figure out where the trio was holding their party. Fortunately, the music bursting from the university rooftop was loud enough for me to follow.
I find Valentina dancing close to Liam and Evan. I approach them and tug her skirt to signal that I’m here.
“Can we talk privately?” I ask when she turns her glance to me.
“We’ve got nothing to talk about,” she spits out disdainfully. What happened? Why this open resentment towards me?
Liam wraps his arms around me and tries to move me to join their dance, but I shove his hands away.
“Come on, Belle, don’t be a drag, this is a party!” he yells in my ear over the loud music.
“Yeah, come on, Belle, don’t be a drag!” Valentina giggles. What’s with her? Is she drunk?
I try to pull her away from the repulsive sandwich they’ve created, but she shakes me off and the two brothers stick to her, preventing me from approaching her.
“Have it your way, Valentina, but you can’t keep avoiding me!” I let out a frustrated breath, and leave her be for now. It’d be better to talk to her when she’s sober.
I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket, and pull it out. The only person who could be calling me is my father, and it is indeed his name on my screen.
I shove my way through the dancers to reach a quiet spot where I can talk with my father. “Hang on, Dad, I’m moving somewhere quieter,” I yell into the phone, trying to flee the crowded rooftop. I open the door to the stairwell and run down a floor until the music’s distant enough. “How are you doing, Dad? You disappeared on me.”
I lean my head on the wall of the empty stairwell. When Simon brought me back from the meeting with Libretto, my father wasn’t in the dorms anymore. I tried to call him a few times, but he never answered.
“I’m sorry, the Council members kept me busy so I had to fly to Costa Rica for a business meeting.” He sounds worried.
“What did the Council want from you?”
“I was just about to ask you the same question.”
“You first,” I insist.
“Libretto expressed a desire to take you under his wing.” I skip a breath at my father’s news. Libretto told me he was interested in training me under his roof, but he hadn’t said anything about fully taking me under his wing.
“What does that mean for you?” I hurriedly ask.
“It means my responsibility as your father will be removed if you’re transferred to his care.” He sounds pained and disappointed. If that’s the case, why is he accepting Libretto’s command without at least trying to appeal the decision?
“I’m not interested,” I whine. Libretto terrifies me. He gave me an ultimatum – if I felt hungry and didn’t feed off him, I’d be transferred to private training under him. He must be expecting me to fail if he’s already laying the groundwork with my father.
“I know, sweetheart, but there’s nothing I can do if he decides to take you from me. He doesn’t believe I can bring out the full potential he sees in you.”
“I don’t have any potential, so far all I’ve proven is that I only bring trouble. I really don’t understand what he sees in me.”
That’s the absolute truth. So far I’ve completely screwed up my transition into demonhood. I became a bizarre hybrid creature and no one has told me yet just what my body’s going through. I broke one of my kind’s iron laws and I’m acting like an uncontrollable monster that can’t find anything to hold onto in this world.
“It hasn’t been decided yet.” He clears his throat and falls silent.
Yes, it depends on whether I fail… I think bitterly.
“Bellcolor, what happened with Liam can’t happen again. I don’t know why Libretto decided to spare you, but you must cherish the grace he’s chosen to give you.” Yeah, if you only knew… “Regardless, the matter’s settled. I’ve been asked to take Liam’s memories about the incident. If your hunger stirs, you must inform me immediately. Am I clear?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Keep me posted, I’ll be available to you anytime. I have to go, I’m being called. Be careful, Bellcolor, alright?” He hangs up before I can ask what he means.
Damn it, I forgot I wanted to ask him whether he’d gotten an update from Prof. Sapienti about my situation. I try calling him back but he doesn’t answer.
I glance at the phone screen, it’s 8 PM. I’m not interested in going back to the party or my empty room. I wonder if Prof. Sapienti is still in his office at this hour. I push myself away from the wall and take the stairs down at a brisk pace, deciding to test my theory. I knock on Prof. Sapienti’s heavy door, and rather than wait for an answer I open it.
The Professor’s office, which was as cluttered and messy as his scattered personality, now seemed like someone with OCD had taken over it, and I spun on my heels to check the sign over the door. The name Dr. Bartimaeus Abano appeared there instead of Prof. Sapienti’s, which had been there during my last visit.
I retreat into the corridor and count the faculty’s office doors again. I can’t be wrong, this is exactly where my father took me the day I met Prof. Sapienti.
“Can I help you?” a voice asked from within Prof. Sapienti’s office, or Abano’s, or the Devil knows who.
I walk into the office and a young – divine – man is standing by the desk, which is perfectly organized. His amazing body isn’t the only thing that catches my eye. A pair of spectacular eyes look at me, one blue and one green. Wow.
“Are you Prof. Sapienti’s assistant? I’m looking for him.” I try to seem indifferent.
“No,” he smiles, and I feel like he’s fired an arrow right into my heart. How could I not? His smile’s fucking amazing too. “I hate to be the one to tell you, but Prof. Sapienti has returned to our creator, and I’ve taken his place.” He reaches out a hand to me, and I’m confused.
“Prof. Sapienti’s dead?” Damn it, this isn’t good. He was the only demon who could’ve helped me, and now all my hopes for answers have gone straight to hell.
“Technically, he was already dead… were you close with him?” He seems hesitant, like he doesn’t know how to respond to my sorrow.
“No, he was doing research for my father.” I peek past his huge and muscled body. “Is there anything left of his research?” It seems pointless. There doesn’t seem to be anything left of Prof. Sapienti.
“I’m sorry, a Council representative came and collected all his belongings.” He says he’s sorry but he sure doesn’t seem that way.
“Ugh.” I pause to examine the new lecturer. He doesn’t seem old enough to be a Demonic History lecturer. His firm body implies he’d be better suited to the role of Self-Defense coach. His blond hair covers his forehead, and he’s disheveled as though he’s only just woken up. But my gaze keeps going back to his unique eyes. I skip between the blue eye and the green one, trying to decide which shade suits him best. He realizes I’m staring at him and a muscle in his jaw tenses, which only highlights his strong square jawline.
I really need to look away. I need to, but I don’t.
“Sorry, your eyes…” I start to say, and he smiles again. I’m done for.
“I could say the same thing about yours. I know the change is a bit volatile for first-years, but I’ve never come across pigmentation like yours.”
“Yeah, it’s a long story.” I try to stay evasive, it’s best he knows as little as possible.
“I’ve got time,” he gestures to the chair by the desk.
I hesitate. I came here to get answers, and wasn’t expecting to see someone else here. Why would the Devil take back Prof. Sapienti? Had he completed the purpose for which he’d been recruited? If so, what was it? And why had the Council taken all his things? My father had mentioned that Prof. Sapienti didn’t always agree with the Council members. Had he betrayed them, and they exposed him? Maybe he hadn’t gone back to our creator at all, and he was chained up in the dungeons of their huge castle? Castles have dungeons, don’t they? The punishment for those who break the Council’s laws include unbearable torment and torture – believe me, that research paid off after all, so Libretto definitely has a suitable torture dungeon.
I look back – the hallway is empty. If the new lecturer were to try and hurt me, no one would hear my cries for help. I’m not supposed to be here, I know that, but my legs won’t sync up with the red lights flashing in my mind, and they carry me forward into the office. Dr. Abano closes the door behind me, and the sound makes me jump.
For God’s sake, calm down, Belle . I sit down, and to relax I take out my phone and open the call screen, just to prepare for the worst. If he tries something, I’ll call my dad and he’ll alert the Council. Simon can be here in seconds. Thoughts of realistic escape routes soothe the storm in my head.
I examine Dr. Abano’s body as he circles the desk and sits in his leather chair. He’s wearing a suit but he seems uncomfortable in it, like it’s a costume. The ticks in his shoulders and his ceaseless fiddling with his tie confirm it.
“How old are you anyway? You don’t look old enough to be a lecturer, let alone a history lecturer,” I blurt out the first thought that pops into my head.
“Didn’t your father teach you anything about us? Appearances never reveal our true age.”
“Alfredo needs to receive some criticism from time to time, I don’t think it goes well with your position.”
He laughs in response. “I’ll pass that along the next time we see each other. So what exactly is this research Prof. Sapienti was asked to do for your father? Does it have something to do with your special eyes?”
I ignore his question and try to regain control of the conversation. “Are you a demonologist too?”
“Among other things.” He lightly drums his pen on the wooden table. It’s driving me crazy; I hate when people do that.
“And what about… theology?” I continue pressing him. He stops his annoying drumming.
“Why are you asking about that? What's it to you?” he lowers his voice. I must’ve touched a sore spot.
“Is that what got Prof. Sapienti in trouble?”
“I don’t know about his return to the creator. But I know that anyone asking questions about theology usually doesn’t stay on this Earth for very long.” His tone grows harder the more he speaks.
It was a mistake to ask him about that. I have to get out of here as soon as possible, before I get into more trouble. God knows I’ve taken enough hits to my score as is.
I rise up from my seat to get the hell out, but Dr. Abano stops me with a stiff voice. “Sit down at once, Bellcolor, we’re not done yet!”
I quickly obey, chills running down my back. “How do you know my name? I didn’t tell you.” I stare at him. Play it cool, Belle, you got yourself into this and now you’ll elegantly get out of it.
“The Dean of the University briefed us all about your situation, you must have known that,” he answers coldly. The bright shade of his eyes turns frosty and I swallow the lump in my throat.
“So… have you run into a case similar to mine, Barty?”
He chuckles. “Barty?”
“I thought it was appropriate, since we’re already on a first-name basis.”
“What makes you think I’ve encountered a case similar to yours?” He leans back in his chair, continuing to drum with his pen, this time on his cheek. Am I stressing him out?
“Aren’t you a historian?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Among other things,” he again uses his vague answer.
“Well, if you’re not going to answer any question of mine, I think we’re done here after all.”
“You’re not asking the right questions, Bellcolor.” He presses the pen into his cheek and smiles, creating an artificial dimple that could look fantastic on him.
“I prefer Belle.” I fake a smile.
“Well, Belle, if you ask the right questions, I might be able to answer them.”
I’m trying to understand just what those right questions are, but I can’t figure him out. I’m constantly drawn to the pen he shifts between his fingers, alternately poking his cheek. When he runs the pen between his lips and sucks on it, I’m sure he’s toying with me. I don’t know what game he’s playing, but I have a feeling I’m losing it.
I get to my feet and straighten my summer dress. “I’ll have to get back to you on that,” I say, and leave his office before he can try to stop me again.
Before I shut the door to his office, I dare to take one last look at our new hunk lecturer. He doesn’t look at me, but he nods his head… with disappointment?
Something in the pit of my stomach tells me I need to stay away from him. Unfortunately that’s not possible, because tomorrow we’re starting our Demonic History classes, that I now know will be under the supervision of none other than Dr. Bartimaeus Abano.