Page 30 of Cathmoir's Sons

“Prince Luca had a vision, evidently,” Carver says.

More tap dancing but at least Law and Luca didn’t mention anything about the whole fated mates business.

“I can only say that now that I know Prince Luca would act so rashly and has the means to follow me through the Fae Ways, I’ll do what I can to prevent it,” I offer.

Professor Ratner nods and sits back in her chair.

“That’s not enough,” Carver says. “Prince Luca should be bound to the campus for his own safety.”

Dean Quinn’s eyebrows shoot up over the edge of her glasses. “I seriously doubt that either he or his parents will agree to that. They’rewildfae.”

“They’re a liability is what they are,” Carver says. “And if they get killed while they’re students at this institution, I think we all know who their parents will blame.”

“I don’t agree,” Professor Dittman says. “Cathmoir’s a warrior, like his sons. He understands the risks of the job.” He drums his fingers on the table. “Is that all? I assume you’re recommending that Professor Wyndham be disciplined for failing to anticipate and prevent the Cait princes from following her into battle. I know how I’m going to vote and the committee must be unanimous, so the recommendation doesn’t pass. Are we done?”

“Yes,” says Dean Quinn, tapping the papers in front of her back into a pile. “Professor Wyndham, thank you for attending today. The safety of Bevington’s students must, of course, always be our first priority. I personally agree with the students’ families that you weren’t at fault. And you have my many thanks for protecting and healing Rhodes Hale. You’re excused.”

“Thank you.” I stand and get ready to get out while the getting is good.

Professor Dittman halts me. “Professor Wyndham, may I speak to you for a moment?”

I steel myself.

“Of course.”

He rises from his seat and walks out of the conference room with long, sure strides. I follow him, envious of his thickly treaded boots when I’m tottering along in my heels.

He walks down the hall of the academic wing of Bodeman Main to a small conference room that I think is used by the school counselor. He ushers me inside the room and closes the door behind me.

“Are you sleeping with Rhodes Hale?” he asks.

I stammer, then admit, “Yes, I was.”

“Well, that makes sense,” he says. “The boy’s had his head so turned around this past semester, I thought he had harpy fever or something. He’s been my best student for three years and I was so disappointed in his final exam that the only reason I didn’t ball it up and lob it at his head was because he ran out of the exam room like his tail was on fire. It was an offense to the Mother to have to give him a passing grade. Did you lead him on a merry chase?”

“Yes, it probably looks like that.” I rub the bridge of my nose. “I didn’t know he was a student until after the battle. I’m sure that seems absurd to you since you’ve known him for years, but in my defense let me say that he deceived me into thinking he worked at Bevington and did a damn good job of it.”

Professor Dittman’s mouth twitches. “Did he, now?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry to say I probably taught him that.”

“White Cloaks are supposed to be incorruptible,” I point out, irritated at the thought that the man in front of me helped turn Rhodes into someone deceitful.

“Professor Wyndham, you’ve been out in the world. You’re not one of these soft-handed academics who’s cowered inside Bevington’s ivory tower their entire career. You know theworld isn’t like that. Justiciars are often the judge, jury, and executioner. They have to be practical. They have to do what it takes to get the job done. Being scrupulously honest and truthful and upright? It will get them dead.”

I rub my hand over my face. I do understand that. I know justice isn’t black and white. I’d just like—for one moment—something to be immutable.

But that’s not the way the world works.

“Well, good job. You taught him well.” I keep my tone friendly, because Professor Dittman could really fuck me over here. But I don’t sense that’s his goal. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m not planning on outing you to Dean Quinn and her bulldog, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Dittman says, his brown eyes holding mine. “I’m just looking out for Rhodes. I know he’s involved with that Cait who followed you into the battle, even though they kept it quiet. Did the Cait follow you or did he follow Rhodes?”

“I honestly couldn’t say. I didn’t know about their relationship until afterwards. I’ve tried not to have any contact with the Cait princes or with Rhodes since then.”

Dittman clears his throat. “And you think just cutting off contact is going to work?”

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