Page 22 of Mortal Shift
“You’re late,” she snapped.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I got lost, and I wasn’t really sure where I was supposed to be.”
“That is usually what happens when someone is lost, yes,” she said. “And that is far from an acceptable excuse. Every other student managed to make it here on time.”
“Yeah, well,” I muttered, “They probably didn’t have their schedules swiped.”
“You dare stand here at the front of my hall, late for your first lesson with me,” she demanded, her voice rising, “and blame it on someone else?”
“I—”
“Name,” she snapped, before I could get anything else out.
“Cali Ellis,” I said, and her eyes narrowed.
“Ah. The human. Do not think for one moment that I will go easier on you just because you’re powerless.”
A series of whispers raced around the room, and I cringed. Great. Now everyone knew exactly how vulnerable I was. Could this day get any worse?
“Go and sit with your mate,” she said.
…Of course it could. Why did I even think it? I picked Cole out from the seated students and slunk towards him, and his sycophantic buddies seated with him. He nudged Jax, who moved over one seat, leaving me no choice but to sit between him and Cole. Excellent. Surrounded on all sides by assholes.
“In trouble with Nyra on your first day,” Cole said with a smirk. “Tut tut.”
“Only because I’m stuck living with a klepto. I thought you were a wolf, not a damn magpie. And it’s hardly my fault some stupid vampire mistook me for the breakfast bar.”
Cole went utterly rigid in his seat, and a muscle in his jaw ticked. “What?”
“Silence!” Nyra demanded from the front of the room. “The next person who makes a sound will find themselves cleaning the toilets for the next month.”
Cole looked like he was willing to chance it, but instead he twisted his head slowly to face the instructor, and slowly worked his jaw loose.
“As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted by someone who thinks we should all be working tohertimetable,” the instructor continued, “You will be attending my lesson five times a week, every week, and you will leave here with a firm grasp on supernatural culture and law. You will not speak unless it is to answer a question I have asked you. You will be here, on time—” She broke off to send a glare in my direction, “and when you are in this room, your focus will be here, also. Mr. Thornton, if you touch your mate’s hair one more time, I will cut it off and use it to mop the floor, do I make myself clear?”
I flinched as her voice raised to a shout. Three rows in front of us, a blond guy yanked his hand hastily back from the flowing red hair of the woman sitting next to him. I watched them curiously. So, I wasn’t the only one here shackled to a mate? Interesting. Iwasthe only human, though, I knew that much, so she must have been a shifter. And totally into her mate, if the way her leg was rubbing up against his was anything to go by.
I saw Cole eyeing my hair with a cold, contemplative expression, and flashed him a warning look. Because if he eventhoughtabout setting me up to face that punishment, I was going to take a pair of scissors to him further south… and I made sure to put all of that into my glare. He grinned at Jax over my head, and I felt the sudden urge to tuck my hair out of both of their reaches.
“I assumemostof you aren’t completely ignorant,” Nyra said, “but let’s find out. Everyone stand up.”
When the class exchanged confused looks, she snapped, “Now. And if that simple instruction is enough to confuse you miscreants, then you’re in for a long semester.”
The sound of scraping chairs filled the room as one hundred students got to their feet.
“Once you have correctly answered a question, you may sit down.”
I blanched. I didn’tknowany answers. I hadn’t known this place even existed until yesterday, how the hell was I supposed to know anything about the supernatural?
“We’ll start easy. Name a species of fae.”
Every hand in the room shot up, except mine. I stared down at the floor, on the off chance it was about to take pity and swallow me up, but nope.
Nyra pointed to a guy in the front.
“You. Mr…?”
“Barton,” he said. “A phouka.”
