Page 31 of Wicked Chains
I slip out of the office, closing the door behind me, and lean against it for a second, taking my first full breath since I entered that room.
"You okay in there?" I whisper to Hank, who peeks his little green head out of my pocket. "That was intense."
I push off from the door and hurry down the hallway, wanting to put as much distance as possible between myself and that poisonous pair. My thoughts tumble over each other, trying to process what just happened. I'm caught between two powerful, dangerous people, both of whom see me as nothing more than a possession to be controlled. But at least Ash seems to want me in one piece. Helena, I'm not so sure about.
I'm so lost in thought that I don't notice the person rounding the corner until I collide with them. Cleaning supplies clatter to the floor.
"I'm so sorry!" I bend to help gather the scattered sponges and brushes. "I wasn't looking where I was going."
"It's okay, miss," says a quiet voice. I look up to see Ollie, one of the young cleaners who works at the academy. He's slight and unassuming, with light brown hair and kind eyes. Unlike most of the people here, he's always been nice to me, offering a shy smile when our paths cross. I've made a point of saying hello to him when I see him, and actually throwing my trash in the bins instead of on the floor like most of the entitled buttheads who attend this academy on daddy’s dime.
"Hey, Ollie," I say, handing him a scrub brush. "Sorry about that. I was trying to escape the headmistress's office before she decided to turn me into a frog or something." I pause. "No offense, Hank," I add to my pocket.
Ollie glances around nervously, then leans in closer. "You should stay away from her, miss," he whispers. "Headmistress Wickersly. She's not a nice person."
I can't help the laugh that escapes me. "Newsflash, Ollie. No one at Serpentine Academy is a nice person."
Ollie’s cheeks go red. "Well, you're nice to me. You say hello. You pick up after yourself."
The simple observation catches me off guard. I'm not used to being seen as nice. I clear my throat. "Yeah, well, my mom raised me right, I guess. But thanks for the warning about Wickersly. I think I figured that out when she basically threatened to make me wish I was dead."
Ollie's eyes widen. "She said that?"
"Something like that." I help him gather the last of his supplies. "But hey, between her and Ash, I'm not sure who's the bigger threat."
"Mr. Ash is not nice," Ollie agrees quietly. "But Headmistress Wickersly, she enjoys it. The hurting, I mean."
The simple statement sends a chill down my spine. "Well, that's comforting. Thanks again for the warning, Ollie. I appreciate it."
He nods, clutching his cleaning supplies to his chest. "Be careful, miss," he says, then hurries off down the hallway.
I watch him go. In this place full of monsters and manipulators, it's weird to find someone who seems genuinely concerned for my welfare, especially someone who has no magical power or status. Maybe there's one decent person at Serpentine Academy after all.
Hank croaks softly from my pocket, as if to remind me that I'm not completely alone.
"Yeah, I know," I tell him, patting my pocket gently. "You're decent too, for a frog." I take a deep breath.
As I walk away from the administrative wing, I have the feeling that I've just witnessed the opening move in a very dangerous chess game.
Fifteen
Rose
I cut across the pristinely kept lawn of the academy, my boots crushing the frost-tipped grass, with absolutely zero intention of showing up to Transfiguration 101 this morning. After my little chat with Helena the Horrible and her power struggle with Ash, I'd sooner poke my eyes out with a rusty fork than sit in a classroom pretending everything is normal. Besides, there's a ghost I need to find, assuming he hasn't disappeared on purpose.
The fourth floor is as empty and abandoned as always when I push through the creaky door, the only thing moving is the dust suspended mid-air in the weak November sunlight coming through the windows.
"Drake?" I call out. "Where are you?"
I walk the length of the hallway, peering into abandoned rooms and the storage closets. Each room sits in various states of dusty disarray, forgotten furniture draped in sheets. There are several doors boarded up, and I wonder what’s in them.
"Drake, come on. It's me."
Nothing. Not a whisper, not a chill in the air, not the faintest hint of a body materializing. My heart sinks. Maybe it was all just a desperate dream, including what came after. I brush my fingers against my lips, remembering the impossible hardness of his mouth on mine.
No. It was real. He’s real.
Hank wriggles, as if sensing my distress.
