Page 107 of Every Shade of Shadow

Ana?

“Working,” I say aloud, which lands me another look of confusion from the poor professor.

So yeah, the emergency telepathy works. Yay, though I don’t know how cool I am with Ava poking around inside my head, or vice-versa. There’s a safety built into the spell, but still.

I almost wish I hadn’t seen what was on the back of that photo in Darkwood’s chambers. It links him with this whole Mortis thing when I was hoping he was just, well, the Professor.

Ultimately, two scenarios arose with that picture. One, Damien and his friends went looking for Victor Mortis, to flush him out maybe, and they succeeded, fucking him off. Which means someone else is responsible for the murders at Lumina.

Two, and maybe the more disconcerting scenario, they never found Victor Mortis and he’s here at Lumina growing more powerful with every kill, slowing chipping away at anyone who could stand in his way. Or maybe there was a battle and Damien lost, forcing him to return to Lumina to lick his wounds?

Too many possibilities.

But it still doesn’t say anything as to Darkwood’s purpose in all this. I don’t know which side he’s playing for. I don’t even know if I can trust him.

When he summons me to his quarters, I know I must be subtle. Should I choose to bring this up, it can’t appear deliberate. I need to use my actual brain for once.

A hellish wait follows before another note of summons appears on my bedspread later that afternoon.

We have our first training session in the lower levels of the castle, swapping spells and turning a poor defenseless wall rather ashen with our efforts, but we’ve got a long, long way to go.

There’s tension in the Academy. It’s obvious. From the dining room to stairs, the halls and pockets between, everyone seems on edge.

The journey to the Professor’s chambers is almost becoming perilous, what with his shadowy surprises and murderer, or Morits, or who knows what other fucked-up shit is lurking around here.

Standing on his doorstep, my threefold knock disrupts the silence of the hallway. As usual, I try to read his face once he pulls the door open. His strict expression isn’t new to me. There is, however, a different quality in his gaze tonight. I can’t put my finger on it just yet, but I can definitely read some wicked purpose at play.

I step in and remove my coat, placing it on the dining table and standing prone before him, my master.

He stands in front of me, observing my body in the detached, cold way a doctor might.

A surgeon, I think, already tensing at the pain I know is to come.

“You must brace yourself, my pet,” he advises, his tone somewhat friendly in contradiction to his gaze. “For tonight, you’ll get the first taste of the true power of Shadowcraft.”

“I will…?” I mutter, a touch of doubt in my voice.

“Yes,” he confirms, a sparkle of excitement lighting in his eyes. “Tonight, you will test your powers on someone you hold dear.”

It’s a short fucking list. I’m hoping Cassandra isn’t here again, not that we’re friends by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, she’s gone quite out of her way to avoid me at any opportunity. I’ve barely seen her.

“Oh?” I gasp, swallowing my own saliva.

His eyes drop to my chest and rise back. “Your friend Sabrina…has she ever told you her sexual fantasies, her deepest desires?”

Sab?

Fuck.

“No,” I speak, hoping to hell this doesn’t involve her somehow. “We don’t really talk about things like that.”

“Not even a little?”

I shake my head, because it’s true. Yeah, she might throw around the odd detail about someone she’s seeing, but Sab is vanilla as they come. Or at least I think she is. The way Darkwood is smiling is forcing me to think otherwise.

He sneers, his tone turning serious. “Well, let me inform you her most predominant desire is disturbing to say the least.”

Double fuck.

---