Page 16 of Switching Graves

So, I attended the university. And to spite my rich, pompous classmates, I made sure to graduate at the top of my class. They had no idea what to do with a valedictorian with zero familial ties to the school and no special abilities to speak of.

The Syndicate tried to insist I step back and hand the honors to someone better suited. I refused, and the board threw a hissy fit over their spawn being bested by some white trash, town native. What could they do, though? They had an agreement signed in blood. I went back for my masters, then earned my doctorate online and claimed the position of head of the Psychology Department.

By that point, I was already their perfect little weapon. They weren’t willing to give me up for a few thousand in sponsorships.

I refused to allow them to take so much from my family without staking a claim on what was carelessly and thoughtlessly promised to me. To continue with this useless curse when we had already paid our dues. I set off to shake their entire system or die trying.

Unfortunately, the highs of my victory have been short-lived. The further I pushed, the further they pushed back, until I became an unrecognizable shell.

The dean has been trying to nail down a meeting with me for three weeks to complain in my ear and until now, I’vebeen able to dodge those attempts under the guise of semester preparations.

“Perhaps it’s time to open admissions to the public,” I suggest in a dry tone, just to get under his skin.

The pompous assholes who fund the school would never allow a student with none of their usual pedigree to coexist with their precious youth, especially after me.

As expected, Hatchcroft’s nose scrunches in disgust, his yellowed mustache raising at least an inch as his upper lips curls into his teeth. Gildbright recognizes the subtle taunts, and the side of her mouth tilts up the slightest bit. Her eyes flick down to the table—at what she knows is beneath it—as she shifts in her seat. I avert my gaze, positive she’s thinking back to our own private meeting nearly a year ago. The woman has no shame.

That wouldn’t be a problem if she wasn’t such a boring fuck.

That’s another thing about them. They’re so fucking monotonous. I want to scrape my ears out with a melon baller before I listen to another conversation about vacationing to the Maldives or how the stocks are doing at that given moment.

“That is the furthest thing from what we should do,” he grumbles, and I only offer a shrug, shoving a large bite of my salad into my mouth so I don’t have to respond.

Of course, he fills the silence himself. “What we need is for their parents to take more control over their children and stop acting as if Ravenshurst University is a choice. They should be honored to have the opportunity to attend such an esteemed institution.”

“There are other, more social colleges popping up everywhere. Kids don’t want to be sent off to school with the same families they grew up around their entire lives,” I say around a mouthful of lettuce.

Hatchcroft blanches. “Those schools will not equip them with the ability to control their gifts the way we can. And I don’t knowhow you’re so laissez-faire about this. Your department and that little research program you’ve been trying to get running again will be the first on the cutting block when it comes time to downsize from lack of funding.”

He delivers the empty threat so confidently, pointing his fork at me as if he has an ounce of power over the situation.

Gildbright has the nerve to look uncomfortable, clearly having intimate knowledge of what it’s like to be caught in the dean’s political crossfire. That’s how I usurped the position as Psychology Department head from her, after all, while she scurries behind the dean each day like the perfect little pet.

She bent to his will far too easily.

“You’ll ensure that never happens, won’t you, Gerry?” I tease with a charming smile that makes his swollen cheeks redden.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of yourself,” he grumbles, eyes cast down toward his plate.

As much as the decrepit old asshole despises me, his hands are tied. Ravenshurst University and the Midnight Syndicate need me far more than they need him. The board would sooner fire him before landing themselves in the Whitlock crosshairs ever again. Not after what they took from my family and witnessing the monster they’ve turned me into without a drop of magic in my blood. The Syndicate would likely kill him off if they caught wind of his threats, they’re so terrified of me turning on them.

Or rather, they’d have me do it.

“We’ve still got an impressive list of incoming students this year,” Gildbright offers, if only to break the tension between me and the dean.

She leans over to grab her suitcase from off the ground, then flips through it until she pulls out a stack of papers stapled together and slides it over toward me. “This is the finalized listthat was provided just this morning by the admissions office for our fall semester.”

I really don’t give a single fuck which entitled brats accepted enrollment this year, but I appreciate her attempt to get Hatchcroft off my ass, so I humor her by scanning the list.

Nearly every name has appeared on my class rosters at least three times since I took on this position. Sisters, brothers, cousins—they’re all coerced into attending the university that their parents and grandparents attended, regardless of what course of study they actually want to follow. It’s borderline incestuous, if you ask me. Although, Ravenshurst offers a surprisingly wide range of options for such a small school.

Just when I shift to hand the paper back over, my eyes catch on a single name. The same one I’ve been searching for since the moment I stepped back onto this godforsaken campus and took on an entire department. After nearly seven years of waiting, I almost think I’ve imagined it.

Penelope Ellery (legacy to Divina Carmichael)

My soul lights up in my dark, empty chest. I forget about Hatchcroft’s snarky comments or Gildbright’s heated looks. I forget everything as the culmination of the past twenty years of my life finally settles around me.

At last. The devil’s spawn is finally breaking through the pits of hell to play.

---