Chapter Thirteen

 

Just Before Class Begins

 

The Georgian sun was already warm in the cloudless azure sky, its heat blissful on Annaleah's skin as she walked to her first day of classes at the University. She only had a few periods to teach a day, the earliest of which was at ten AM. It was about half past eight now, but she had wanted to arrive early to see what the Professor expected of her today. Though her wonderful morning with Uncle John had eased a lot of the tension from last night's terror, she was still more tired than she would have liked, and she hoped it wouldn't affect her sensibilities too much.

As her trendy black kitten heels fell upon the pavement in a rhythmic cadence, her thoughts turned to the man with whom she would be teaching. She wondered how old he was and where he was from. He couldn't be past his early forties, she guessed, for there were no discernible lines in his face. Though far from stuffy and boring, he dressed too maturely to be much younger than that, and, although he was quite stylish, he didn't follow the trends of those in her age bracket. As to where he was from, he was most certainly not from the South, that much she was sure of. His voice was low and rich in timber, his words perfectly enunciated, but not strained with effort to be so. There wasn't a trace of a drawl, though he did have an accent, like a cross between a noble English Lord and a Russian aristocrat.

Turning the last corner onto the campus, Annaleah saw several students. She smiled at some and said hello to a few others, her heart beating with excitement with the possibilities of the day. Balloons and a banner welcoming the pupils had been hung at the entrance to the main hall, where the classroom she would share with Professor Bainbridge was located. The sound of laughter, music and the buzz of conversations filled the air around her, as well as a few university cheers from some of the returning students, mostly the football jocks she mused, from the look of their letter jackets. The University had a very good football team, with many prestigious trophies and awards to show for it.

The door to Annaleah's classroom was slightly open, but she knocked anyway, waiting for the Professor's voice to invite her inside. Instead, after a brief moment, the door opened and she stood looking into the dark eyes of the Professor.

"Miss Grace, you don’t have to knock at the door of your own classroom. Please come in," Professor Bainbridge said, opening the door and walking back towards his dark wooden desk. "You are rather early. Is there something you wished to speak to me about?"

"Yes sir, actually there is," Annaleah answered. "I did do a bit of reading from the book you gave me, but I was wondering exactly what you were expecting of me for today. You and I weren't given a lot of time to get to know each other, or to come up with a way to teach together that suited us both. I really just want to be on the same page as you, Professor." Though she still felt a bit intimidated by him, she spoke with confidence, proud of herself for not shaking as she had in his apartment.

The Professor regarded her stonily, his dark eyes narrowing slightly, as if he were deep in thought. After a moment he said, "Actually Miss Grace, there won't be much to do today beyond introductions and a basic speech as to what the class is about. The curriculum will be handed out, books given, etcetera." The Professor took a seat behind his desk, opened a drawer, took out a book and handed it to Annaleah. "This is the main book we will be using in class and a copy of the curriculum. I should have given these to you yesterday, but you seemed quite happy to be gone from my apartment. I believe you have plenty of time if you'd like to read over it before class starts."

As Annaleah took the book from the Professor, she noticed his hands. They were pale with long fingers, more like those of a pianist or an artist than a teacher, she thought absently. "Thank you, sir. I will look at it now," she said as she turned to leave, heading towards a bench outside to settle in and read over the book as she waited for class to begin.

Professor Bainbridge remained at his desk, focused on some faraway place that only existed in his mind. He was still perturbed by last night's dream, having not had one like it in quite a long time. Dreams of that manner did not occur without reason. They were usually the precursor to something important, serving either as a warning or an omen of some kind. Having been so close to her only moments ago, he was now certain Annaleah was part of it, though he was no closer to figuring out how. He tried to concentrate on how she fit into last night’s dream, but all he could think about was how she affected him. When she was beside him, something about the flower in her hair had awoken in him something he wasn’t sure he had ever felt before. It was an uncomfortable fluttering in his stomach which rose like a flame into his chest, making his heart beat faster. It was as if the smell of the flower had floated through the air to intoxicate him. Combined with her presence, it enchanted him, making him feel weak. The bloom nestled divinely in her hair, its scent not too strong, but very sweet. He saw the way her hair flowed around it, like a blonde cascade of curls that ended just above her bottom. She looked innocent, sweet, fresh. Her deep green eyes appeared wide with wonder and youth, full of life and all the enchantment that came with it.

He didn’t like the way his heart beat faster when she was near, or the way he had to clench his jaw to steady his composure. It was unlike him to react to anyone in such a way. In all his years, never had any woman had such a powerful effect on him. He clenched his jaw at all these new feelings, trying to guard himself against them. How dare she seem so innocent, when he was sure she was not as innocent as she presented herself to be. He began to resent her, and the feelings she elicited from him.

Taking a deep breath, Sebastian pondered the fact that she had entered his life just before a string of strange events began happening. Had she sent these dreams he wondered? And if so, why? Who or what, was she that gave her the power to send dreams, and why did he have such a visceral reaction to her, when no one before her had ever set his mind spinning or made the air about him suddenly seem more alive?

Perhaps she was some sort of spell binder, maybe even a succubus, using glamour to enchant him, so she could fulfill some secret, mysterious plan. She seemed innocent, but he was not going to let himself be fooled. He tried to imagine her as a succubus, one of those wicked demons that seduced men and then stole their souls.

Images of a dark room lit by a single candle flashed through his mind, her flesh hot against his skin, her kisses burning his lips. The vision stole his breath, surprising him greatly. What was really going on? It was best to distance himself from her, whatever she was confused his senses, and he couldn’t afford more thought now with the class to start so soon.

She certainly seemed more in her element today, and though it was a good thing, he wondered what had changed. No matter. He knew he wouldn't have to wait too long before the meaning of the dream became evident.

Focusing on the day before him, he opened his books and looked at the list of students who would be in his classroom shortly. It was time to put away his personal musings and become the Professor again.