Page 14 of Feral

When I couldn’t get any words past the lump in my throat my uncle walked up to me, his expression more amused than sympathetic.

“You did good work on that class, really. The dean was happy with the way you rewrote the curriculum and how you increased enrollment. You did the department proud.”

“But?” I whispered.

“But, you don’t have the experience that Elliot does. And you tend to be…well, a little difficult when it comes to working with others.”

The flush deepened because I knew exactly what he was talking about.

“You mean,” I said, trying to keep my voice even, “that I don’t allow my male colleagues to take advantage of me.”

Uncle George sighed.

“Your need to see what isn’t there is part of the problem, yes.”

My eyes widened.

“Wasn’t there? Professor Morten groped my ass at the department mixer!”

“And he apologized for being in his cups. It was an honest mistake.”

“That he’s made many times before. And then there’s the fact that Professor Elliot is only still there because his family is rich and donates money to the college. Otherwise I’m sure his laziness and complete lack of proper boundaries with his students would warrant his dismissal.”

“For someone who is so anxious to make a name in academia you are very quick to burn bridges, my dear.”

“And for someone who claims to be a feminist, you are very quick to dismiss a woman when she says something about one of your friends that you don’t like.”

Uncle George’s face had gone from pasty to deep red, and he was glaring at me in a way that brought back more than a few memories of when he’d railed at me as a child. But, unlike then, I would not shrink or try to disappear under that gaze. He was wrong. They all were, and damned if I let him make me feel bad about standing up for myself.

“I’m disappointed, Daphne,” he said, his voice harsh. “I got you the job with the Archive hoping it would give you discipline. I stuck my neck out for you with the dean and gave you that class to teach. You’ve been granted so many chances, and every time your inability to control your tongue has destroyed them. I had hoped that this time you’d at last learn to leash your less than desirable character traits. But perhaps you are simply a lost cause.”

While it was true that I wouldn’t have even known about the Secret Archive without my uncle George bringing me in, I had already been on the path to exploring the paranormal in our world. I firmly believed I would’ve found me way here without his help. And as for the class…

If I say this, he’ll be angry with me for months. But, in for a penny, as they say.

“If you remember, Uncle, I had already overhauled the curriculum and had been meeting with the dean for a month before you intervened. I was doing the work myself to get that job.”

His grin turned cruel and I braced myself.

“And without my intervention, you would’ve still been begging at his door for the scrap work of other departments. I had at least secured you an intern position with Lowell today.”

“Intern position? For the class that I essentially rebuilt?”

“Lower your damn voice,” he hissed as people began to stare as they walked by.

“I will not,” my chest heaved and tears burned my eyes. “You have the gall, the utter temerity, to believe that I didn’t earn that position? That all I deserved was to be an intern after two years of hard work?”

“Humility would be a good thing for you to develop, my dear.”

“Fuck humility.”

His eyes grew huge and now his face was turning purple.

Coarse language was the tool of the uneducated, according to my family. And while four letter words weren’t my usual mode of communication, sometimes nothing else would do.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to an important research assignment.”

I turned on my heel, feeling my uncle’s hot stare at my back the entire time as I tried to get a cab. I held it together as I waited but the moment I closed the door, tears raced from my eyes.

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