Chapter 9

A full day had passed before I could get back to the subway where I'd last seen Arya disappear. I'd heard nothing from her. Not that I really expected to. I mean, she was in a super-secret school for shifters, and her first day had to have been stressful.

The Find My Friends app worked, but the results left me a little confused. The dot disappeared somewhere over Lake Michigan. Or, more likely, under. That was part of the reason it had taken me so long. I'd needled Gram for any kind of magic or spells until she started asking questions.

When the questioning became too heated and ultimately led to the same stubborn wall, I retreated to the anger I kept bottled up—the anger born of magic unspent, of a lifetime of knowing that what I was capable of was well out of reach.

The magic I'd possessed since the day I'd sparked with life could never be accessed, not to its full potential. Not without being taught—which Gram was loathe to do—and not without the grimoire my family had lost.

And so we fought. We fought about the lost magic. We fought about my desire to start a new grimoire. And I'd blamed her, like always, for refusing to tell me about how the grimoire was lost in the first place, or how we were involved in the shifter world today, or how she performed the more skilled spells.

It was an awful fight. They always got just a bit ugly. Guilt still gnawed at my insides for starting the thing. But she'd stopped prying and scolding, and for now, my interest in the school was safe. Because telling Gram was out of the question. She'd just tell me no, like all the other times before.

Why she was so hell-bent on keeping me from the supernatural world, I had no idea. I just knew I belonged at that school, and I wasn't going to let her stop me. Magic or not, I'd be better off at a place where I could learn about the mystical creatures of this world than twiddling my fingers over stupid things like calculus and English essays no one cared about.

I glanced around the street to see if anyone was looking, then partially lifted the flap on my bag and peered inside. The vial was there and safe. I lowered the flap but let my fingers slip below it to linger over the smooth glass.

Gram would kill me if she knew I'd raided her potions cabinet. But I needed to prove to the shifters that I was one of them, at least in some form. Fingers crossed, I hoped this would do the trick.

I took a deep breath and headed down the stairway that led to the subway. I had my money ready—in my pocket, not my bag, so I wouldn't accidentally flash the precious object—and a quick glance around told me I didn't have to worry about the scrutiny of that guard who'd caught me jumping the turnstile. Just as well. I wasn't planning to do anything stupid this time.

At least, not until I got to the school.

Ticket in hand, I made it through to the green train, waiting at the same terminal Arya had disappeared through. The overhead display said it would be a few minutes before the next train arrived.

I looked around at the other passengers milling about the platform, shuffling on and off cars. I wondered if any of them were shifters. If Caesar had brought Arya this way, it was likely that other students would take this route.

But I didn't sense anything. Not like I had with Arya. That girl gave off some serious shifter vibes. I was surprised I hadn't realized it before. But then again, I didn't have enough experience with shifters or my magic to know what to look for.

The train came to a quick stop, the doors sliding open. A flood of passengers got off, and when they thinned, I merged with the crowd looking to get on. The doors hissed closed again, and I looked around, finally deciding on a handrail for stability as the train sped away.

I turned on my phone and watched the GPS move over the map. I wasn't even close to where I'd last seen Arya's phone disappear. I sighed and patted my bag again, looking at the seats and scanning the faces around me for any supernatural hints.

Would I get a feeling that I was looking at a shifter? I'd thought that was the reason I'd been drawn to Arya, not realizing my own magic was speaking to me, but now I wasn't so sure. And it wasn't like my Spidey senses were tingling at the moment.

The next stop thinned out the crowd around me, and I grabbed a vacant seat. I couldn't help but notice the guy barreling toward my car, barely squeezing through the closing doors as the muffled voice on the intercom announced our departure.

He sighed as he looked around, then plopped into the seat next to me. He huffed and puffed, then leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

I smirked. "Just made it, huh?"

The guy looked up and smiled, sporting an adorable pair of dimples. "Yeah. Didn't want to wait the fifteen minutes for the next one, you know?"

I nodded.

"I'm Max," he said, holding out his hand.

I accepted and gave a firm shake. "Shea."

He wasn't exactly stacked, but he had a nice cut to his physique, the sleeves of his plain white t-shirt hugging the bulge of his biceps. I wondered if that was the result of diligence or pure male hormones.

He leaned back in his seat, his legs extending into the aisle. "You take the ‘L' often?"

"Not really. Why? You the ‘L' police?" I asked, lowering my voice to a mocking tone, complete with air quotes.

Max laughed. "Nah. I'm just on and off these things all day, and I'm pretty good with faces. I would've remembered yours."

I blushed, pursing my lips. "Is that so?"

It was Max's turn to blush. I smiled as I watched him falter. I'd spent so much time in Shallow Grave that I'd forgotten not all guys are idiots. Max seemed pretty sharp. Okay, and yes, he was kinda cute. In a vanilla sort of way.

Could he be a shifter? He didn't have near the sheer animal magnetism that Caesar had radiated, but there was something about him. Heck, there had to be because I'd struggled to get Caesar off my mind for the last twenty-four hours, and I realized now that this guy had just about wiped my mental slate clean.

Damn, I really needed to get out more if all it took was a run-in with any random hot guy to make me drool.

"So, why exactly are you on and off the subs all day?" I asked, flicking my hair over my shoulder.

He braided his fingers to hang his hands in the space between his legs and bit his bottom lip as he seemed to consider my question. "Uh, would you believe I'm a courier?"

I shrugged, masking my intrigue. "Sure."

"Yeah, well, I run errands for people, deliver messages and stuff," he said, and I couldn't tell if he was being vague intentionally.

I arched a brow, swaying slightly as the train sped along the track. "You know there are such things as cellphones and computers, right? Wouldn't texts and emails be faster than you running all over town?"

Max laughed, scratching at the short brown hair at the back of his neck. "Yeah. But believe it or not, some things still require a personal touch."

"I'm sure."

The overhead speaker rattled off information, and the train slowed.

Max stood and stretched, his white shirt lifting to expose a glimpse of the V-shaped muscle that peeked over the top of his jeans. My mouth actually watered, and it was all I could do to halt my gaze from exploring the rest of his body as he looked over his shoulder at me.

"End of the line for me. You getting off at the next stop?"

Okay, so he wasn't a shifter. I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed by that.

"Maybe," I replied elusively.

"It's the last one on the green line," he deadpanned, a playful glint in his green eyes.

I folded my arms, a stubborn smirk on my face.

He smirked back. "Ah, I see how it is. Well, maybe I'll see you around."

"Assuming you can remember my face," I teased.

Max grinned, a challenge flaring his pupils. "Oh, trust me. That won't be a problem."

"Goodbye, Max." My eyes slid suggestively to where the doors were hissing closed behind him.

Max snaked through the narrowing opening just in time. He rapped on the window and waved as the train took off for its next destination.

I waved, feeling the tiniest bit of regret. It wasn't often a hot guy popped into my life, and here two had in as many days. Maybe this was the universe's way of saying, "Open your eyes, Shea!" But I had more important things to worry about.

I patted my bag again and waited for my stop. It didn't take long.

My phone still said I wasn't close enough—not nearly in, under, or over Lake Michigan. I took one last look at the few remaining passengers as they unloaded. None of them looked like shifters. And still no tingling feeling.

I hesitated, then darted off the train before the doors could close on me.

I looked around at the platform as the passengers dissipated, leaving me alone at the end of the line with my growing doubts. There had to be something else. Something I was missing. Was there a ferry nearby?

I passed by a closet door before stopping and turning back for a double take. Something about the lock on it caught my attention. I peered at it, then snapped my fingers. It was an electronic lock. Way too high-tech for janitorial supplies. It wasn't like anyone would be desperate enough to steal toilet paper.

I looked around the emptied platform. There would be more people stopping here in a bit, and others might be looking to get on as the train headed in the other direction. I had to work quickly. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and took a deep breath.

Unlocking spells were fairly basic, and I'd managed to figure out at least that much magic on my own, but I had no idea if they worked on electronic locks. They definitely didn't work on computer passwords. I tried that once, in a failed attempt to learn more about the world my Gram was a part of—the world my mom had been a part of…

I flexed my fingers.

"Sahad."

The hum of magic moved through me, a warmth and tingling in the tips of my fingers. I smiled. There wasn't a better feeling in the world than tapping into that well of power—almost like sinking into a hot tub and letting your muscles give in to the heat.

But the door stood unmoved.

"Balls," I hissed under my breath. Not that one.

I wiped my hands on my pants again and then shook them out, swaying my hips side to side as I revved up for another try.

I only knew three spells that could work: Unlock, like with a key—which had already failed—Undo, like a button or clasp, and Open, to allow passage. I decided on the third for my next try. The roar of the next train approached, and I rushed to cast my next spell.

"Wepah," I breathed, my pulse pounding a frantic tune in my ears.

There was a faint click, barely audible over the roar of the oncoming train. With a trembling, anticipating hand, I gently pulled the handle. It opened.

Yes! It was all I could do not to scream the word out loud.

I took one last glance around to make sure I wasn't seen, then slipped inside as stealthily as I could manage, closing the door silently behind me.

I was surprised to find myself on another platform on the other side, although this one seemed a little cleaner and brighter. No ancient chewing gum plastered to the ground, no discarded wrappers or homeless guy hunkering down in a corner.

The rail was empty, and I wondered when the next train was scheduled to arrive and if it would be full of shifters when it did. I had no idea if they'd be friendly or hostile.

Shifters don't take kindly to witches. The warning echoed into my mind, one of the few brief things Gram had said to me on the subject.

Apparently, the shifter world wasn't fond of those who used magic, even though their innate supernatural abilities weren't far from those of witches.

Dragons and phoenixes could conjure fire. So could I.

Harpies could heal. So could I—well, sort of. I could mend paper cuts, at least, which was why I needed to be at that damn school. They could teach me how to hone these skills, whether they believed it or not.

I wanted to go to this school so bad. To learn more about who I am and have a safe place to practice my magic with like-minded people. Away from Gram, who thought using magic was practically a cardinal sin.

I just wanted to be myself. I could do that with Arya. I could be me with shifters.

A familiar whoosh sounded down the tunnel, and I glanced down the track to see a car coming.

I stepped behind a support beam and waited. The train stopped, and the doors slid open, but no other sounds came. I peeked around the column, and when I saw no one getting off, I bolted for the car. The doors closed behind me, and the train took off, headed back the way it had come.

I took a steadying breath, hoping to build my courage. A laugh bubbled out of me. A secret platform. What was this, Hogwarts?

For several minutes, the dark tunnels blurred past. Most of the transit system in the city was above-ground, and I was surprised at how much of my trek had been subterranean.

Suddenly, the view outside the windows opened up, and the tunnel I was careening down was made of glass rather than cement. And there was nothing but bright blue all around me, casting an almost magical glow all over the inside of the train.

I was on the bottom of Lake Michigan. Holy balls!

I peered out the window behind me, pressing my face to it like a kid outside a candy store. A gleaming dome sat on the lake floor in the distance. My eyes about popped out of my head, and my breath caught in my throat. Then came the laughter again, growing maniacal and uncontrollable.

"This. Is. Incredible!" I blurted to no one, and for the first time in my life, I felt like this was where I was supposed to be.

I stayed like that, even when the track curved and The Dome disappeared from sight. I barely even noticed when the train came to a stop, my mind spinning with questions.

What did it look like on the inside? What was the history? The technology? The Dome looked like some alien world, and my mind began to create an interior to match.

Finally, I stepped off and stared at the vault-like door in front of me, barring my way forward. This lock was way more high tech than the one on the platform, and the camera above the door told me I was being watched.

I squared my shoulders and marched toward the door like I owned the place. I had to look the part of a student here. Heck, I was the part, they just didn't know it yet.

"First time here?" came a male voice over the intercom, rough and intimidating.

I nodded, then realized the speaker might be expecting a verbal response. "Yes."

"We'll just need a retina scan."

Ah, so that's what that thing was. Did shifters have different eyes than humans? I thought of the way the eyes of animals seemed to glow in the dark. Was this scanner sensitive to reflection?

I approached the digital scanner on the wall beside the door and let out a breath as I leveled my eye to the device. I didn't know the right spell to change the actual structure of my eyes, but I did have one trick up my sleeve and I was damn sure going to use it.

"Wepah," I whispered as a green light flashed over my vision.

The door buzzed, and without skipping a beat, I grabbed the handle and pulled it open.

My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest like the thing from Alien, but I kept my shit together, cool as a cucumber.

"Welcome to Shifter Academy," the speaker voice continued. "Step inside, and they'll get you settled."

"Thanks." I strode in.

The door slammed shut behind me with an ominous thud, and I jumped.

I clutched my bag, hugging it tight to my chest. I wasn't sure when I'd have to pull out the vial, but I needed to be ready.

My mouth fell open as I took in the dark metals and intricate figures. Japanese-style dragons coiled around the archway, climbing toward the same symbol I'd seen on that card Caesar showed us. The hall beyond looked even more detailed, and I was drawn to it like a magnet.

"Welcome," a woman's voice called out, snapping me out of my trance. The woman—no, a freaking goddess—sat behind a large desk, her bright red hair and green eyes arresting.

I felt about an inch tall, and I clasped my hands behind my back. "Um, I'm here to attend the school."

"Yes, of course. I'm Celeste, head of the Acceptance Department, but you can call me Ms. Smith. Which kind of were are you, and who sent you to us?"

My mouth hung open for a moment, words completely escaping me. A were? Like a werewolf? Why did this woman think I was a were?

"Well?" Ms. Smith asked after I stood there staring dumbly for several long moments. Those green eyes drilled into me, her foot tapping beneath the desk.

"Not a were," I finally said.

I pulled the potion out of my bag, pulled off the cork and tossed it back like a shot. The liquid burned down my throat and, instantly, I felt the transformation taking hold of me. I was prepared to shred out of my clothes, to grow fur and claws and inch-long teeth.

What I wasn't prepared for was shrinking into my clothes that suddenly piled over me like a deflated hot air balloon.

What the hell?The label on the shelf had said "feline"…

Oh. A cat. I'm a fucking cat!

I thought this potion was to shift into a mountain lion or something equally impressive. Who the hell would ever want or need to turn into a cute little kitten? I mean, I hadn't seen myself yet, but it was me, so obviously I must look adorable. Soooooo not what I was going for.

I hissed as I tried to scramble my way out through the neck of my shirt.

Ms. Smith threw her head back and laughed, slapping her knee and everything. When she recovered, she leveled an icy glare at me.

"You're no shifter, witch." The label rolled off her tongue like vomit, and I cringed, my catty whiskers tickling my cheeks. "I don't know how you got in, but you can be sure it won't happen again. Now, put yourself back together."

Letting out a catty snort, I willed the magic of the potion to free me and grew into my own skin once more.

At the look of embarrassed shock on Ms. Smith's face, I looked down at myself.

Aaaaand, I'm naked. Yep. Perfect.

I wasn't about to desperately pick up my clothes like a discarded one-night stand, so I just stood there, letting my lady bits hang out for all to see. Let her be the one who was embarrassed.

"I belong here," I declared, putting my hand on my bare hip. "If transforming into an animal is the only requirement for admittance, I just gave you that. If you need some flashy show of fire or water, I can do that, too."

I raised my hand to conjure a ball of flames, but she rushed forward to catch my hand and force it down.

"Please don't, you'll burn this whole place to the ground," Ms. Smith hissed. "This school is a refuge for those who don't have a choice but to shift and could unintentionally hurt others. You don't check that box. You will leave and never come back. Do we understand each other?"

"Why?" I snapped, every fight I'd had with Gram blowing the top off any cool I might have been able to conjure. "Why can't I be here? What do you people have against witches?"

Ms. Smith's lip twitched in what looked like a failed attempt to snarl.

"Everyone here shifts because they have to. Because it's what their bodies do when they get bitten or get wet or get angry. You?" She looked me up and down with disgust curling her lips. "You have to drink some tonic to turn into a pathetic rodent. That's not shifting. That's pretending."

I took a step back, my attitude flaring in full force. "I'm Shea Le Fay, and I'm not leaving until I convince you that I belong here."

Her eyes widened, then narrowed even further than before. "I knew there was something familiar about you."

"What does that mea—?"

"Out." Ms. Smith pointed to the door, outrage flaring her nostrils.

My heart stalled. "But—"

"OUT!"

I staggered back from the venom in that one word. Somewhere deep down, I knew this would be the outcome, but still, I had to try. Stupid. All this way for nothing. And I very disastrously wasted my only chance at a good first impression.

Ms. Smith tapped a button on the phone at her desk and spoke into the device. "Caesar, I need your assistance."

Oh gods, no!

"What is it?" replied the begrudgingly familiar voice.

"We have a little pest problem, and she needs to be escorted out," Ms. Smith replied, dusting off her hands in a gesture of dismissal.

There was a pause, then the voice said, "Be right there."

No. No, no, no!

Being naked in front of this prudish and prejudiced stranger was one thing, but exposing the girls to Professor Grumpy Gryphon was sooooo not going to happen.

I did scramble to gather up my clothes then, like a drunk college girl caught at a frat party. And just like a drunk girl, I lost my balance as I tried to shove one of my legs into my stupidly tight skinny jeans and landed flat on my bare ass.

The metal floor was ice cold against my skin, but that didn't keep every inch of me from burning with humiliation.

Just when I thought things couldn't possibly get any worse, the face of the crazy hot gryphon shifter loomed over me.

Kill me. Somebody, anybody, please put me out of my misery.

I jackknifed upward and clutched my t-shirt over my stupidly big boobs. And he just stared. Why was he staring? My face was on fire, and I could only imagine it was a very unattractive shade of red.

"Shea?" he asked, arching a sexy eyebrow. "What are you doing here? How did you get in?"

I got to my feet, my sass kicking in to rescue my severely wounded pride. "You tell a shunned witch about a supernatural school and expect her not to do everything she can to get in?"

Amusement tugged at the corners of his lips, and the heat in his eyes made me all kinds of confused. "While I'm impressed at your efforts, you can't be here."

I pouted, hoping that sympathy might change his mind. "I'm a witch who's not allowed to learn magic. I'm descended from one of the most powerful bloodlines, and they won't teach me a thing. While I might not be at risk of exploding into a wild beast, I am at risk of losing control of my powers and potentially hurting innocent people. I do belong here."

He looked at me for a long moment, and to his credit, his eyes never dipped below my face. I wasn't sure whether to be grateful or offended by that.

"I understand that must be hard for you," he said finally. "But I can't allow you into this school. The history between shifters and witches isn't pretty, and I assure you that you're better off not being here."

My heart fell as I accepted that he was not going to budge on this, at least not right now. "Can I at least see Arya? Just to make sure she's okay?"

"Think you can put your clothes back on first?" he suggested, giving me a wry, challenging smirk.

My cheeks burned anew. "Oh, right."

Without a word, he spun around to offer me some privacy, and I turned my back to him as well as I pulled on my panties, jeans, and t-shirt, just in case he decided to sneak one last peek.

I cleared my throat when I was decent once again, and he turned around to face me.

"Just wait here, I'll get her for you," he said before heading through the archway.

The tension in the entry room was thick as I waited, Ms. Smith having returned to her desk and pretending I didn't exist. A few excruciating minutes later, the doors opened, and Caesar appeared with Arya beside him. My friend's pretty face shone with a bright smile when she saw me.

"Shea!" She ran to me, and I caught her in a desperate embrace. "What are you doing here?"

"Just stopping by to check in on you." It wasn't a complete lie; that had been part of my motivation. All of my anger and disappointment ebbed as I focused on her. "How are you? Settling in?"

Arya's smile faltered. "I'm...okay."

I raised a brow.

"So?" Arya asked, hope sparking in her eyes. "Are you coming to school here?"

"Not while Ursula over here reigns," I quietly grumped, tipping my head in the direction of the desk.

Arya's brows scrunched, and she glanced that way. I nodded once.

At Arya's insistent stare, I stole a glance over my shoulder and saw Ms. Smith standing again, this time leaning on the front of her desk with arms and ankles crossed. My face reddened. Crap.

"If you're all done, I believe it's time for you to go," Ms. Smith said in that calm, infuriating manner of a woman who knows she's in control.

Arya pulled me into another hug. "We'll get you in," she whispered. Her voice resumed a normal volume as she added, "We'll just have to figure some things out first."

I pulled away when Ms. Smith cleared her throat. "Can you ever forgive me for not telling you about who I was?"

Arya nodded. "It's probably better that you didn't. I can barely process it all now, and I'm a mermaid."

I chuckled. "If you need anything, anytime—"

"I know. Thanks." Arya turned to Caesar. "Do you mind if I ride with her, just to the other platform?"

Ms. Smith frowned, but Caesar nodded.

Arya nodded back, then smiled at me.

We took a step toward the exit, but Ms. Smith's voice stopped us. "Just so you know, Arya, witches are no friends of mermaids. You'd be wise to remember that."

Arya dipped her head, and we hurried out.

"So what"s it like?" I asked as we settled into the train.

"Incredible. You"ve never seen anything like it." She shook her head, her voice filled with awe. "Do you have any idea how many types of shifters there are? I've come across like six. And I took my first swim today."

"And?" I coaxed, desperate for details.

"I didn"t drown."

"Duh." I smiled and gave her a good-natured nudge.

"It kinda felt like I was slipping into my own skin for the first time." Her eyes twinkled as she said, "My tail"s pink."

I chuckled. "Of course it is."

Arya laughed but grew quiet again, looking at her hands as they rested in her lap.

"But?" I prodded.

She let out a long breath. "Let's just say being a mermaid isn"t all it"s cracked up to be."

I grabbed her hand and squeezed it, trying to give her an encouraging smile. I didn"t know what she was going through, but I wanted to reassure her that I was here to listen if she wanted to talk about it.

I managed a playful smile. "Made any friends yet?" I asked, though I kinda hated to hear the answer.

A "no" meant that Arya still needed me, and there was nothing I could do to fix that, but a "yes" meant that I might lose her to a world I could never really be a part of.

"Not yet, but it was only my first day. I'm used to it."

We continued to chat amiably as the train carried me away from my dreams, The Dome shrinking and fading until it disappeared entirely. This wasn"t over. Not by a long shot.

Still, all of it hurt more than I cared to let on. But I knew Arya was hurting more. She was strong, and I had a feeling she wouldn"t give in to her grief until she absolutely had to.

I just hoped Arya would be surrounded by friends, if—or when—she finally broke.