Page 35 of Switching Graves

For now, I plan to satiate my appetite for revenge with her spoiled kin.

I hadn’t planned on starting tonight. I thought I’d torture her on the first day of class. Start by embarrassing her a little, then progressively nick at that ironclad shield she’s likelyworked years to create. The moment I saw her name on that attendance paperwork, I walked straight to the admissions office and insisted they transfer her to my lecture hour. It was just an added bonus that the change completely turned her schedule around.

But when the girl walked through the small courtyard outside of Devlin as I was finishing my nightly run, I knew it was her the instant I saw the mess of red hair piled on top of her head.

Penelope “Poppy” Ellery.

A force to be reckoned with, if her school records are anything to go off. She’s got quite the mouth on her that has marred her permanent record with an array of black marks. I’d expect nothing less from Divina’s spawn. Her mother doesn’t know when to quit, either.

I can’t wait to break her.

I was only going to watch from afar. Stick to the plan, with the additional benefit of identifying her ahead of time. But she ended her call and gazed at the moon as if it was something she’d never seen before, and I found myself speaking before I’d even realized I moved out of the shadows.

Naturally, she got away as quickly as possible, and I went back to my apartment for a cold shower. The rest of the evening was dedicated to preparations.

Something about the girl I met last night doesn’t match the one I’ve been studying on paper, nor the small, fleeting glimpses I’ve gotten in the past.

I’ll have to be careful around her, though—whomever she may be. I won’t be taken off guard by her again. The Valeria bloodline is potent and cunning. Anyone raised by someone like Divina is surely more adept at using their gifts than any average student I’ve had the displeasure of working with through my years in the Psychology Department. Growing up in NocturneValley and being raised by the Syndicate’s own personal weapon, I was taught some of the strongest shielding techniques.

Even still, I don’t trust the Carmichaels.

18

Sonny

The hallways of Devlin are completely silent as I lie in bed, wide awake. It’s a striking contrast from the constant commotion that has been on the rest of campus these past few days with Beatrix and Ava as everyone scrambled around to finish any last-minute errands. True to their word, they stopped by daily this week to invite me on random tasks that end up turning into detailed history lessons from Ava or introductions to their myriads of friends and family around campus.

Ravenshurst University is saturated with an interesting past, somehow maintaining its own little ecosystem of ‘gifted’ families while also contributing to huge worldwide events. A lot can be said about the students who are accepted here, but no one can claim they don’t care about human rights and the distinction between right and wrong, that’s for sure. They’ve participated in and organized rallies or strikes for every major civil rights event history has had.

Either that, or they’re using their gifts to control them.

I’m still confused by their casual talk about bloodlines, and I’m afraid to ask for more information without intimate knowledge of the basics. At least, for my own bloodline.

I suppose that by now, everyone is fast asleep in their rooms to prepare for the first day of classes tomorrow. I can’t seem to get my mind to settle long enough to even rest my eyes, which is only making my nerves skyrocket with each passing minute.

I wonder where Poppy is right now and what she may be doing. If she were here, I’m sure she’d be sleeping like a rock without a care in the world for what tomorrow and these next few months might bring, or the risks we’re taking. After so many years of spending each day together, I’m struggling to adjust to this new reality where we can only talk for a few moments here and there between our busy schedules. I want to tell her about the gifts and see what she thinks. We have so much to figure out with this new complication. She’s my strength—my other half. Without her here, I feel like I’m floundering.

After a few long minutes of debate, I slip my phone out from beneath my pillow and click on her contact. It might be too late to call now, but Poppy has always been a night person. She could still be up. Even if she’s busy sleeping or meditating or whatever she does all day now, at least she’ll see my call and know I was trying to reach out.

It rings three times before her familiar voice answers.

“Is everything okay?” she asks on the other line, her tone thick with worry.

“Yeah, I just couldn’t sleep.”

She sighs into the speaker. “Neither could I.” There’s a shuffle on her end before a door slides open, then closes. “Classes start tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I don’t feel prepared at all. I’m so nervous, Poppy.”

“Everything will be okay. We did the right thing.”

“Are you sure? What were we even thinking?” I breathe out a humorless giggle.

“That we were both stuck in situations that weren’t serving us, so we grabbed fate by the tits and made our own destiny.”

This time, my laugh is genuine. “I miss your poetic way with words.”

But Poppy’s voice is serious when she says, “I miss you too, Sonny. Like crazy.”

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