Chapter Ten

I found myself in the staff lounge, of all places. Something about Peterson and Thompson’s inane rabble kept me grounded during my planning period. The silence of my classroom allowed every worried thought that swept across Gemini Academy from my homeroom coven to hit harder. I couldn’t handle my own feelings about the situation—how the hell was I going to handle theirs, too?

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mr. Frost.” Chanelle stepped inside, beelining for the copier near the table I sat at. “How’re your classes treating you?”

“Horrible.”

“For you or them?”

“Yes.” I sipped my coffee.

“Wait. Which?”

“Huh?”

“You’re the most frustrating person in the world, you know that?” Chanelle looked back over her shoulder, judging the layout on the table for four that I’d claimed all for myself with everything covered in papers. “Why are you even in here?”

“For the refreshing atmospheric change, obviously.”

Chanelle rolled her eyes, rushing through prompts on the copier as she printed off stacks of colorful packets. Some cheery questionnaire intended to spark conversation in her classes. Ugh. “ I’m excited about dinner this weekend. I’ve been trying to land a reservation at Dollop of Desire since it opened. Gotta love knowing an enchanter with connections. ”

I quirked a brow. Why think it instead of saying it?

“Oops.” Chanelle’s thoughts quickly pivoted away from a text exchange she’d had with Milo about this weekend. “Never mind.”

I sighed. Milo. He must’ve arranged some outing with Chanelle he’d planned to spring on me at the last minute.

“Oh, that.” I ground my teeth to fight off a frown. “Can’t wait.”

“ Liar. ” Chanelle smirked, rushing out of the staff lounge without so much as a witty one-liner.

I sipped my coffee as the lounge emptied out, allowing the tension that brought me in here to fizzle. It seemed I no longer needed the bustle of others to alleviate my wandering mind so I could enjoy what remained of my planning with a bit of peace.

The bell rang. Shit.

“Shit, shit, shit.” I scrambled to pack my laptop and papers into my satchel, exiting the lounge and squeezing between the crowd of students that’d flooded the hallway.

I shoulder-bumped a student. Turning to apologize, I froze. Jamie Novak looked up at me, eyes glazed and mind an empty cavern of sorrow.

His academy uniform hung on him; he’d withered away, barely reminiscent of the teen jock from last school year. His face was flushed, and wispy stubble did little to distract from his pale exhaustion. Messy blond hair helped hide his sunken eyes, filled with deep bags from sleepless nights spent reliving the lifetime of horrors inflicted on him by the chimera.

I grimaced at his vacant expression, the lack of purpose floating in from his thoughts, the way his ranking had plummeted, much like his desire for life. Despite ranking third in the showcase and already sitting among the top ten first-year students, he’d lost a lot of points since he didn’t take any of his final exams. Sure, Gemini was kind enough to exempt his grades given the extenuating circumstances, but they couldn’t be bothered to account for that on his student ranking. That’d be too considerate. The system was inflexible to case-by-case scenarios, and no one with the authority to do anything about it cared enough to change it.

I swallowed hard, consumed by guilt. His. Mine.

“Sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“No, it was me.”

“No. It was my fault.” He stepped around. “ Everything is my fault. ”

Jamie’s inner core was a wasteland of empty spaces and black holes, devoid of pathways like they’d broken off and vanished entirely. His dreams had died. His passions had been crushed. His memories were crumpled and destroyed. Even with the chimera exorcised, the toll of carrying a demon inside him, living for months on end as a devil, had broken him.

He’d been on my roster but never showed up the first day, so I assumed he would be dropped from Gemini’s attendance soon, figuring the boy would need or want more time to recover. It turned out Jamie didn’t want anything, but he needed so much more than Gemini or I could offer him.

Jamie walked by a large group of students circled around Layla and Amani, who eyed his rumpled appearance and snickered. The group took up so much space in the hallway, I couldn’t find a path between or around them. I furrowed my brow, understanding why Kenzo often considered flinging those who stood idle aside with a bit of telekinesis.

I squeezed by Amani, who barely noticed as she continued chatting with Layla.

She stood taller than everyone around her, both in stature and her self-appointed throne. Confidence and belief oozed from her pores. Cascading sunlight hit her face, brightening the undertones of her dark brown complexion, and it seemed she found the spotlight no matter where she was in life, even a seemingly innocuous hallway.

Amani had already proved quite an exemplary student last year, excelling in her academics and magics, but after partnering with Kenzo during the showcase and landing in the finale, her success skyrocketed. As Jamie’s rank and reputation spiraled, she became the top student in Chanelle’s homeroom coven.

“…dragging our class down any way he can.” Amani took one last look at Jamie, who cut the corner, then ran her fingers through her braided hair that was split into two low-hanging pigtails similar to Layla’s style.

“I can’t stand him.” Layla’s face twisted into a snarl. “He’s always been a dick. Now he’s just a limp dick.”

“I don’t know,” Vik said. “Sort of feel bad for him.”

Most of what I knew about Vik came from observations Layla had on her cousin. A lot of Smythes attended Gemini. Now and for many years before. The latest generation hadn’t taken their place at the top of the academy, the closest being Layla herself, who prided her ranking and reputation, along with the fact that she was the only Smythe to make it into the Spring Showcase last year.

Even though they’d improved their ranking by the end, Vik still hadn’t found their footing here at Gemini. They’d been part of Jamie’s four-person coven, and due to the yearlong stress that came from teaming with a Novak, Vik struggled to keep up with their magic. It didn’t help that their cousin flourished at the academy, finding her place immediately. They were much taller than Layla—much taller than most of the students at the academy, with broad shoulders and a slender build, while Layla remained petite and shorter than the rest. Doubt swelled inside Vik, yet they pushed it down, not wanting to look out of place among their friends.

“Being possessed by a demon must’ve sucked,” Melanie said.

“Yeah.” Vik fidgeted. “I just feel bad. I never even noticed. What’s that say about me?”

Layla scoffed. “No one knew because he’s an asshole. Don’t let what happened to him and those puppy-dog eyes fool you. How was anyone supposed to tell the difference between Jamie and a demon?”

“I don’t know. I should’ve been tipped off,” Amani said, a twinkle in her deep brown eyes. “He was actually nicer once he got possessed.”

The group laughed, a roaring delight encouraged by the glint in Layla’s eyes landing on everyone. Even Vik joined in quietly.

I walked past them, glaring. Amani and Layla rolled their eyes, unfazed. Melanie clammed up, grinning and sincerely believing I hadn’t heard a thing. In her defense, she considered my frown a constant and unchanging expression.

“ Eavesdrop much, bag of dicks. ” Layla popped her hip, continuing her cutting comments with Amani as the pair entertained their obnoxious audience.

Vik was the only one who expressed guilt from my glare. They stopped laughing, but it didn’t deter the others.

I cut through the crowd of students, returning to my classroom and fighting to keep my mind focused on the lesson I’d prepared. The introduction to my History of Magic was one I’d delivered a hundred times over the years, yet so much pulled at my thoughts. No matter what changed, the one constant in my life seemed to be the guilt I carried for things I couldn’t control.

The upcoming trial.

The horrors caused by the dead devil.

The fractured minds of teens.

As I went over a mini-lesson on what to expect from History of Casting Laws, I hung onto my encounter with Jamie, who sat in the class completely isolated from everyone else. Last year, he’d taken a seat in the front and center. Now, he practically glued himself to the wall in the back corner, where almost no one lingered.

The closest person to Jamie was Tia, who still remained a solid three desks away. I grimaced. Even Chanelle’s homeroom students avoided their classmate. Though, based on Tia’s surface thoughts, she didn’t acknowledge Jamie or carry mean-spirited jabs but instead fixated on her interpreter.

Similar to Caleb, Tia wrote down everything in class, not wanting to miss a single word of knowledge. Pride filled her chest, painting a purple aura over her light brown skin. This year, the only thing on her mind was proving to Mrs. Whitehurst she’d be one to watch as she trained to improve her ranking.

“ I’m not letting Gemini push me aside this year. ” Tia fiddled with the pendant around her neck. “ I belong here. They’re gonna see that. They can’t keep me out of the showcase on a technicality this time. ”

Each word sparked a burst of belief, swinging the door of Tia’s mind wide open and practically spilling the memories of her inner core out into the classroom.

My vision flitted from the students in the room to the office Chanelle got once she took on the role of academy liaison last spring. Tia sat in a chair opposite her teacher, ignoring her parents and absorbing the words lipped by Mrs. Whitehurst.

“We’ve fixed the error, but Gemini won’t retroactively adjust the points you may’ve potentially earned the first few weeks.”

And there it was, the reason Tia wore a pendant instead of the standard Cast-8-Watch the other students wore. While the academy ordered tech specifically designed for every student’s branch magic, they hadn’t specified it to Tia’s needs. Yes, it registered invocation, but admin didn’t account for her disability, for the necessary accommodations. The watch never picked up half of the training time she’d accomplished, only documenting when Tia channeled magic.

According to her watch, she never once practiced her versed invocation. But invocation wasn’t a spoken magic. It was a language-based branch. Just as Katherine had to write her spells, Harrison had to concoct spelled recipes, and Tia signed her spells. The watch had designs for recording vocal patterns but not recording her signs. The oversight took weeks for Chanelle to fix, demanding the academy provide a new, appropriate model, but by then—by the time this memory of Tia sitting in Mrs. Whitehurst’s office, watching the apologetic words spill from her lips—the Spring Showcase was practically underway.

Tia knew then she wouldn’t place. Her ranking sucked. Her chances were impossible. She had to start from scratch because of…

Vibrant purple washed away the memory, forcing me to close my eyes. Tia refused to let it dictate her success this year. That was what she repeated to herself every time the memory surfaced. The problem was, it remained at the peak of her mind, unrelenting.

I was drawn back to how I snapped at Chanelle last year over Tara’s waiver rejection, how it affected her chances in the competition, how I didn’t even realize the uphill headache Chanelle fought for her own student. And a student with a documented need for accommodations the academy willfully disregarded when making their Cast-8-Watch requisitions.

I pushed Tia’s thoughts away, hating when people relived their past so vividly, but understanding why this memory cemented itself to the surface of her mind, why it clung to her every thought, why it made her question her abilities time and time again.

I coughed, buying myself a bit of time for my fumbling words as I quelled my telepathy so I could continue my lesson.

Tia cocked her head, then signed. “ She’s seriously gonna bring up my vaping again? Fucking hell. ”

Apparently, Tia’s interpreter had taken it upon herself to add a little lesson of her own, signing how my cough stemmed from a nasty habit that’d kill me. Fucking hell was right.

Clearing my throat, I ignored the glances in the classroom and Mrs. Fleck, having finally composed myself.

I briefly highlighted what we’d cover this semester. In order to be successful in the guild industry, it was important for students to not only understand the rules and regulations enchanters had to abide by in today’s society but also understand the evolution of the legal system when magic returned to our world more than two hundred years ago.

That last bit clung to Tara’s mind, who jotted notes. She wanted less information on the legal system—something that already haunted her given her brother’s upcoming trial—and more insight into why magic returned, why it’d been lost, how both events occurred, and what the world was like the first time magic entered it.

“ Had it always been here? ” She tapped her pen in the margins of her notes, creating a dotted smiley face. “ Did people just forget how to cast? Was there an entire generation of duds like me, incapable of mastering their magic? ”

These were questions with answers still highly debated by scholars with far greater understanding of the history of magic than me. Some theorized that too much demonic energy devoured the magic of our world, others believed a spell had dampened it for a period, and a few entertained the idea that divine intervention stripped our world of magic as a punishment. No one had the answer. Not even Finn.

He used to delve deep into the history of the earth, searching for answers to all the forgotten questions of time, but he couldn’t glimpse the era where magic ceased. His branch required a connection to magic for his retrocognition to relive the events, and for the centuries without magic, there was nothing for him to latch onto.

I swallowed hard. Finn. It seemed my mind wandered to him every day, sometimes a cherished memory, sometimes a silly word, and sometimes a fleeting fantasy of how I would’ve changed things if I had another chance. I didn’t, though. Finn was dead. And I couldn’t dwell on his loss, not during class, not when I had Milo, not after over a decade of grief.

Allowing his beautiful smile to fade from my memory, I telekinetically distributed packets to my students. “I’d like you all to fill out this packet so I can get a sense of what you all remember from last year’s class.”

Gael grumbled while King Clucks bawked with such authority it startled several students.

“You’re more than welcome to work with each other”—I glared at the now grinning Gael—“but I expect this to be completed by the end of the block.”

Without hesitation, he yanked Tara’s desk toward him with a telekinetic pull and partnered with his quiet bestie who had all the answers. The only people who scored higher on the history final than Tara last year were Caleb and Kenzo, who each had perfect scores. Something that irritated Kenzo.

Normally, I didn’t allow group work during diagnostics, finding blank responses as helpful as those answered. After all, if students didn’t know or understand questions, it gave me insight into areas I’d need to revisit this year and how much of last year’s curriculum I’d need to include to bridge those gaps of knowledge. But I took notes on my tablet, eavesdropping on surface thoughts where students floundered, relying on someone else in the group to provide the correct answer.

As everyone worked, I found myself wandering toward Jamie, who remained isolated. His desk sat close to the wall, his thoughts dim, and his body crouched over his desk, inviting no one to approach. I’d hoped that, maybe a little, this would offer him an opportunity to work with someone else in the class.

“ He looks just like Teddy. ” Tara’s bright blue eyes lingered on Jamie while an image of her bloody brother Theodore ascended to the surface of her ocean of thoughts.

I recalled this memory, one that stabbed at her heart regularly. She was so young, and she’d found him locked in the basement of their home, bound and on the verge of death. Their father planned to strip Theodore of his magic, and Tara helped release him. All she wanted was to go back and undo that choice and prevent the horrors of his release from ever happening, change her role in unleashing him upon the world.

“ Not Teddy. ” Tara turned her desk slightly. “ Me. Jamie looks as lost as me. ”

“Just you two?” I asked, standing close to their desks.

King Clucks flapped his wings, and Gael made a judgy expression. “Clearly three, Mr. Frosty.”

“Well, if you wanted to work with any others,” I hinted, not-so-subtly, as my head tilted toward Jamie, “it might help finish this very thorough packet before the end of class.”

Gael flipped through the pages, skimming the question numbers. “We got it covered.”

His flippant disregard reeled Tara back to her senses. “Yep. Between King Clucks and me, we’ll get this answered quickly.”

“Hey,” Gael whined.

Tara smiled, allowing the sense of empathy that tugged at her heart to pitter-patter away. While she didn’t possess a psychic branch, Tara could feel the devastation radiating from Jamie. She’d never felt the horrid touch of a demon in her mind, rooting through her body or carving up her insides, but she knew what it was to be bound on a path set forth by powerful and demanding parents. She knew the pain of everyone’s eyes falling on her, believing they had her figured out because of everything they’d read or heard. She knew what it was to carry such sorrow.

All the same, Gael refused to allow Tara to waste a second feeling bad for someone who spent his life being an utter jerk to her. I couldn’t fault him for that. The horrors Jamie endured didn’t excuse his bullying tactics. They didn’t undo the cruel things he said or did for years on end. Still, I felt for the kid. That chimera picked Jamie Novak so it could stalk me. Hunt me. It knew how shallow I could be, ignoring the pain of those who irritated me. Ignoring Jamie’s pain because, frankly, I didn’t care what happened to the kid last year so long as he left my students the hell alone.

Gael might be a jokester nine out of ten times, but he was a loyal friend, protective, and I needed to respect that Tara’s empathy couldn’t and wouldn’t be the life raft Jamie needed.

I ended up stuck at the academy, enduring the most exhausting staff meeting of my life. Seriously, I might actually die here listening to Peterson ask for clarification on every single bulleted item on the agenda and Thompson ask just one more unnecessary question that didn’t relate to the topics at hand.

“I’m going to murder them.” I sighed, seeking Chanelle’s snarky commentary, yet her mind was lost in administrative duties.

I quirked a brow. No, not administrative, but something field trip-related.

“Dear god, what are you planning?”

“I got the green light from the headmaster, so I’m composing an email to send over to Guild Master Campbell, explaining why Cerberus would benefit from opening their doors to our students.”

“Guilds don’t do visits.”

“They also don’t send acolytes to work with students one-on-one, but you managed to pull that one out of your ass.” Chanelle grinned. “ Well, you might’ve done something with your ass to pull that one off. ”

“ Don’t be crass. ” I linked our thoughts, sending a hefty psychic pulse her way.

“Dick.” Chanelle cracked her neck, then continued rewording her drafted email. “I just think this is a good opportunity for the students.”

“Half of them have already walked the halls of guilds.” I rolled my eyes. That was the biggest push in the academy pipeline of education—alumni sending their children to continue following the family career path and landing in the guilds through the strongest magic of all: nepotism.

“Sure, but what about the students who haven’t? Don’t they deserve to land the experience? Or do you really think it benefits them to wait until their third year before ever stepping foot into a guild? Seeing the inner workings? Gaining a sense of the atmosphere? Learning—”

“You made your point.” I waved a dismissive hand, not requiring another rhetorical question to cement how correct Chanelle was.

Peering over her shoulder, I skimmed the email. A pretty solid proposal with valid points on how it’d benefit both the guild and the academy. I paused at the date, chest tightening.

October 27 th

“Is that really when you’re planning the field trip?” I immediately went to work scouring Chanelle’s surface thoughts, seeking a hidden fluctuating thought that didn’t exist.

“Yeah, seemed good since it’s right after the quarter.” She shrugged. “Shouldn’t interfere with any units.”

I might’ve leaned a bit closer than usual, searching for a reason behind why she picked the date. Nothing. Well, nothing aside from the fact Headmaster Dower approved the date, insisting it not interfere with summative assessments most teachers assigned as a wrap-up to the end of the quarter. “And that’s the only reason?”

“Yes, creeper.” Chanelle’s thoughts immediately shifted from the field trip to concern she had something on her face.

I backed up and slouched in my seat. That date was the day of Theodore Whitlock’s trial hearing, the first day he’d leave The Metropolitan Detainment Center and make his official plea, and from there, everything would whirlwind into a court case that might drag me and my students into the chaotic spotlight. I didn’t want to think about it. Given how Chanelle or the headmaster didn’t make the connection, I guess no one else wanted to either.