Page 37 of After Darkness Falls

"Witch," Gwen whispered. "I'm a witch."

"Mh. You."

His eyes were narrowed and set on Chloe.

"I'm…I'm—"

The words were stuck in her throat. Why couldn't she just tell him she was no one, a random regular accepted here? Then they'd just move on.

"I'm Chloe. Twenty-five. Scorpio. I like chocolate and don't see the point in coffee."

Word vomit spewed out of her mouth uncontrollably. She couldn't stop herself. But as hard as she tried, she couldn't tell him what he'd actually asked: what was she?

"Mh. Confused, I see. Or powerful. Well, whether one or the other, know that no power can affect me. None. Not the kiss of a succubus, the whisper of a siren, the bite of a vampire, or the howl of the First Wolf himself, for I am Aos Si."

Oh, right. She blinked. "Cool name."

The class giggled behind her. The teacher's shoulders sagged, and he rolled his eyes.

"Silly little girl."

"Aos Si, as in one of the fae of Sidhe," Gwen whispered, watching him half-fearfully, half in awe.

Awesome. She'd made herself sound foolish again.

"I didn't think your kind lived in this world," the witch added.

Her eyes dropped to her nails, as if she regretted speaking.

"My kind doesn't," said the creature, almost threateningly. "The name is Fin Varra, and as you know nothing of consequence, you will attend this class for a year and a day, fledgling."

He turned away and sat directly in front of them on an imposing gold chair with red velvet cushions that hadn't been there a moment ago.

"We will resume the lesson where we ended it last Monday, after one of you reminds us of the precise point where I stopped."

Behind her, Chloe glanced to see twenty-four hands lift in the air as one. There were twenty-four students in the room.

"Armand."

"Yes, sir. We were talking of the human revolt of 1476, sir. Against the Drakes of Transylvania. We stopped at the matriarch's death, sir."

"Very well. I see you were paying some attention. And so, Prince Dracul's wife was brutally assassinated in his own keep. Works of fiction have broached the subject, but none have been quite fair to his immortal grief. In his sorrow, the prince took his life, leaving two sons and one daughter behind…"

Being a tyrant didn't change the fact that Fin Varra was the very best narrator to ever tell a story—she had to give him that. In no time, they were engrossed, practically seeing the events he recounted in front of their eyes.

Chloe saw Gwen write down a few notes, but she couldn't bring herself to claw her attention away for long enough to get out her notepad. She'd have to copy her notes later.

Two hours flew by at the speed of light, and in no time, they were told that they'd see him again on Monday.

Chloe left as fast as her feet could carry her.

"That was something," Gwen said, stunned.

"Yeah. Something…"

Part of her wanted to bow out of the course; she didn't need it, and this class would likely take up a lot of her attention. But she knew she'd be there on Monday.

She wondered if that was because she liked the class, or if something else was at work.

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