Page 49 of Faerie Marked

An undercurrent I could not put my finger on.

“Attention, students! Please, eyes up here. Pay attention.” The professor snapped her fingers to get all eyes on her. She stood taller than most of the boys in the class, her back ramrod-straight and hair falling in a gleaming trail of slick fire down her back. She’d emphasized her almond eyes with black liner bringing out the curved shape, her pupils mere slits like a cat’s eye.

This wasn’t the flighty hippy I’d expected when I heard the worddivination. I expected the classic wild-haired, gaudily dressed gypsy who spoke in a high whisper and communed with spirits.

Not hard-ass Professor Marsh with her porn-star stiletto heels.

“Students, take your places, sit your rears down on the cushions, and take out your tarot cards.” Marsh tapped the desk in front of her with her own deck. “These are brand new, gifted to you by me. Touched by no other hands than your own so they get a feel for your energy and yours alone. Make sure to keep it that way.”

I found a spot down the table from Mike and Roman, shooting them both a smile and thankful for the familiar faces. Seeing Mike soothed my heart. It was a reminder. There were still bright spots in the world, and my yearning to do well here, my yearning for freedom, did not have to push me over the edge of stress.

“Are you ready for this?” Mike asked me out of the corner of his mouth.

Had he saved a seat for me, knowing we’d have this class together? I liked to think so.

I sat down cross-legged on the red velvet cushion at his side, letting my bag drop with a clunk. “No,” I answered easily. “I don’t think I have any magic.”

“EveryFae has magic,” he insisted with a chuckle. “You just have to know how to harness the power.”

Sohesaid. I wasn’t sure I believed him.

It became painfully evident in our first few weeks of Divination: I had no natural talent and couldn’t divine to save my life. Yet despite my shortcomings, I actually liked the class. I appreciated the way Marsh took her students in hand and didn’t tolerate any bullshit. She also didn’t play favorites.

Thank goodness. I’d had more than enough of Hoarfrost, even though I only saw him once a week. Still, she gave me a weird feeling whenever she stared at me. I couldn’t explain it, but she felt familiar to me, like a friend I’d fallen out of contact with.

Almost like…likepack.

Ridiculous, because shifters were not allowed at the school, much less allowed to teach.

She didn’t lecture me about the terrible way I read tea leaves, or how my tarot cards always flew out of my hands and onto the floor. She didn’t lecture when I spent more time staring at Mike than I did on my studies. More points in her favor.

Later, my footsteps echoed through the dorm room, painfully empty since a bunch of my fellow female half-humans had been sent home after the first test.

The first purge had not been good to my kind.

Somehow, I’d managed to make it through, and part of me still couldn’t believe it. Like my body refused to relax because it had become so used to living in a constant state of anxiety. My muscles were tense and my back ached from keeping it straight.

I’d no sooner drawn my covers over my head than a screech filled the room. I bolted upright, heart ready to leap out of my throat. A red light descended from the ceiling. A strange alarm.

“Fire!”

The call came from my left and though I didn’t smell smoke, I got the hell out of there. The rest of my dorm mates scrambled out of the room and I followed, keeping a blanket over my head as we walked outside. I didn’t need to risk breaking my spell. A full moon and no clouds meant a death sentence if I let even a single shaft of moonlight touch my skin.

Students milled on the back lawn staring up at one of the tower rooms and the trailing smoke curling from one of the windows.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you.”

I moved toward Melia’s familiar voice in a daze. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure. Fire alarm, I think. I was having the best dream about a guy named John in my scroll-making class…” Melia clutched at her pajamas. “Look at you, with your blanket. Good idea! Scoot over and let me in.” She grabbed the corner of the blanket and tugged it open to step in beside me. “It’s a little chilly tonight, isn’t it?”

I barely had time to react. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“I’m chilly and you’re the smarty-pants with the blanket. See? There’s enough room for both of us. Good thinking, girl.”

We stood together under the blanket, the heat of her body seeping into me. I was too surprised to think about the implications of the movement. But I felt the moonlight on me when she tugged the blanket the wrong way. The same thing I’d tried desperately to avoid by using the blanket in the first place.

Dammit, Meli.

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