Page 8 of Wicked Heirs

Here goes nothing.

There weren’tmany students around.

I’d been asked to come a couple of days early to settle in.

According to Dean Bronson, the half a dozen students I’d seen on my way in had been a mix of those who’d returned early to reacclimate and those who didn’t have homes to return to during the summer vacation. The latter were either orphans or those who’d been dropped on the school’s doorstep by parents unable to handle their abilities—particularly families that were human who’d then found themselves caring for an unexpectedly turned vampire, or a werewolf, things that they hadn’t seen coming, that they couldn’t believe, and that they couldn’t handle. There was also the typical human reaction of fear to that which they didn’t understand. The dean had used the opportunity when she’d been explaining that to assure me that this place was like a family, not just a place to learn.

As much as I hadn’t wanted to come here, the familial aspect did sound appealing. I hadn’t felt that for a long time. Not since my dad had died when I was just a ten-year-old girl. My mom had thrown herself into her perceiveddutyof leadingExemplar,and it had left her little time for me, as she’d first used it to work through her grief, before it had simply become the norm and she’d kept it up since.

Her work withExemplarwas one of the reasons she was so revered and such a legend in the supernatural world. Her Fallen status, possessing the blood and power of an angel, would have been enough to hold her in such esteem and reverence, but her work took it even further than that.

Exemplarwas the governing body of supernaturals, both its lawmakers and protectors.

I’d identified one such member here during my tour of the campus. Each member wore a silver-colored pin made out of unbreakable Light Fae metal. The design was an infinity symbol wrapped around a sword signifying their vow to safeguard the supernatural world eternally.

The member here was a Vampire Elder called Professor Dante Wilhelm who taughtIllusions and Coercion EthicsandHistory and Politics: Rise of Exemplar.

“You don’t require a second assessment. You mother was very detailed with the information that she provided. So your class schedule is already set. You’ll find a copy on the desk in your room. Please review it. Any questions, come to me right away.”

“How aboutmyinput concerning this assessment?”

“At this stage, there is none.” She looked both apologetic about it and set in stone with the decision at the same time—something really hard to pull off. “When students first start atElecti Academy, very few are in the position to determine what their true needs are, nor what type of assistance they require. So we guide them on said path. Once you’ve settled in and are making progress, that will be a different story, and time for your input.”

“All right,” I murmured, my gaze straying around our surroundings.

So far, it felt like a maze, with so many winding corridors.

The floors were fancy polished dark marble that complemented the dark paneling lining the walls. Interspersed amongst that paneling were painted sections of warm, earthy tones that gave off a cozy and calm vibe. Sconces that were lit with yellow magical flames were positioned every couple of feet, although that light was barely needed now with the daylightreflecting off the stained glass windows lining the corridors. According to the dean, they were infused with magic to prevent the actual rays of sunlight from harming the vampires within.

Paintings with ornate golden frames hung on the walls depicting various aspects and features of the supernatural world, like the white gates of the Light Fae Realm, the silver and black ones of the Dark Fae Realm with the twisting vine-like palace in the background along with their infamous gargoyles,Exemplar’swhite stone compound that had a Mediterranean villa aesthetic to it, some highly-regarded former professors of Electi Academy, a couple of gorgeous dragons, and unfortunately even one of Valmont which was the supernatural prison in the mountains.

There were arched doors everywhere leading to this space and that—classrooms, offices, supply rooms, libraries, salons.

She’d already shown me the common area which was a hangout for students between classes, complete with sleek maroon leather couches and oversized chairs all over, televisions, a couple of pool tables, and the like. We’d passed by and even dipped inside various classrooms which were empty right now until school started up again soon, including a mixology lab for spellcasting and potion creation, part of the curriculum here.

I looked into another expansive space as we walked by the cafeteria. Two large archways functioned as the entrance into the massive room. At the far back was the kitchen area behind a dark wood counter and in front of that in the heart of the space were three long tables that spanned the length of the room with high-backed chairs. Off to the sides and near the front were smaller four-seater and six-seater tables.

The walls were a plain beige with a few tapestries hanging to break up the boring color. The scent of cinnamon, Frenchtoast, bacon, and eggs wafted toward me. The delicious smell of a hearty breakfast.

There were only three students inside. One of them had his back to me as he talked to the cafeteria staff over at the far end. Another was settling his tray down onto a counter that was marked as thereturnarea. His bright orange hair, short on the sides and spiked on top was striking against the décor, more like raging flames in comparison, really. He was tall and lean, all hard muscle too that was evidenced from his tight clothing—a pair of black leather pants and a black and orange taut tank.

And the other had my breath catching in my throat as our gazes collided, his swirling deep-purple eyes burning into mine.

Fiercely, it seemed.

Definitely intensely.

His hair was stark-white on the top and black underneath, short but wavy and tousled high. He wasn’t nearly as tall as the other guy, but he had a boxer’s physique—compact muscle, big arms that were showing through even with the black and silver blazer he had on over a white tee. His pointed ears in combination with the black tattoos—or markings—snaking out from beneath the tee identified him as Dark Fae. There was a band strapped to his left wrist that looked a lot like a watch, but was glowing purple and silver.Huh.

His glare, which had a lethality to it, didn’t leave me for a moment, roaming over me studiously and with a clear hostile edge.

Considering I didn’t recognize him and I was certain I’d never met him before, it was most likely about my mom. Although, hostility from supernatural beings upon them learning of my familial tie to Abigail Rose wasn’t something I was used to. It was usually positive, nearing reverence.

It piqued my curiosity fiercely.

What could she have done to incur the wrath of this Dark Fae before me?

Interesting.

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