It turns out that it’s possible to be boiling mad and completely flustered at the same time.

I exit the cafeteria after fighting with Tyrren. He’s never stood up to me like that and if the red-hot fire from dancing with Emeric wasn’t still in my veins, I’d have swooned. I’m not the swoony type, but Aina, who I worked with at the bookstore, encouraged me to read a few romance novels. I didn’t hate them.

It’s true, Tyrren has always been there. But right now, I want to be anywhere but here. My thoughts drift to Emeric. The way he looked at me. How he said I’d summoned him. He’d be whatever I wanted him to be. The temptation, the pull to him, was as strong as the magic that simmers inside of me.

Outside, I try to catch my breath. The sun burned away the fog and bathes the stone on the east side of the buildings in a magnificent gingery gold. Last night, while dancing and lost in Emeric’s embrace, I faltered, almost fell. Tyrren was there to help me up but there was no denying Emeric’s hold on me. Possessive. Complete.

I’m on the verge of losing my mind.

What is going on with me?

After returning from the meeting last night, whatever magic seduced me into thinking what I’m doing here made sense, wore off during the long wakeful hours as the clock teased me by not keeping the correct time. I swear it was three in the morning for three hours.

Doubt crept back in, knocking into the shadows of thought. Then irritation grew into straight-up outrage at not having clear answers to—well, to the questions that I haven’t yet asked.

Who am I? Why am I here?

Maybe this is an existential crisis?

If I hadn’t just stormed away from Tyrren, he’d know what to say. But I wasn’t wrong. He doesn’t understand. I’ve never felt like I belonged in my skin or here, in this realm. After learning about Terra and Borea, it’s starting to make a strange kind of sense.

I push against confusion, letting rage back in.

I steam forward along the sidewalk, but my train wreck of thoughts derails when I realize I have nowhere else to go. I stop.

I have no family. No one. I’m alone. A tear escapes, but I quickly wipe it away along with the notion that I can leave this campus.

I shouldn’t have gotten so upset at Tyrren.

A bell signals breakfast is over. I hurry back to the dorm so I have time to change before classes.

First up, I have Magical Management. Within the first five minutes of Professor Porter’s instruction, it should actually be called, Suppress your Magic. I’m good at that. She hardly seems like she enjoys the topic though.

Tyrren stumbles in late. That’s unlike him. Even though he wants to be a blacksmith, his grades could probably get him into most colleges. Even with school, his job, and working at the forge, he also managed to hang out with me. His expression is pure iron and he hardly takes his eyes off the window.

As if reading his mind, I think Yeah. I want freedom too. Maybe some of that will be found in information. I raise my hand.

“Yes, Miss Vladikoff.”

“I want answers.”

Professor Porter adjusts her glasses. “Then ask questions.”

“What is this place? Why are we here?”

“Riker’s Reformatory School,” she answers as though it’s obvious.

“I mean before when this was a place for gifted supernaturals.”

She frowns. “Being called to Amsterdam Island Academy was an honor. You’re right, it was for the intellectually and magically gifted. It was a way for supernaturals to align with, cultivate, and learn how to use their gifts to serve the world.”

“Now, we’re being locked up, taught to restrain our magic.”

“You’re here so you’re kept safe.” Her lips form a prim line.

The bell rings as though calling that out as a lie. As we file from the classroom, I sense two sets of eyes on me—Tyrren and the teacher’s. I avoid them both.

On my way to my next class, a crowd gathers in front of the common quad. Across the door is the word Faetcher with a big letter X blazing through it.

Rumors spread quickly about the vandalism. I hope this isn’t strike two. Then again, I have an alibi. Professor Porter can testify that I was annoying her in class. I spot Amelia.

“What’s it mean?” I ask. “Rizon used the word yesterday.”

“It’s the worst kind of insult for fae.” Amelia wrings her hands.

“Any idea who did it?”

She shakes her head. “Pick a vamp, any vamp. Hopefully, they’ll still let us have the Fae Court Masquerade Ball this weekend.” She goes on to explain how some of the traditions when this was a magical academy have been maintained. “It’s like prom, but similar to the balls from the Fae Courts of Borea and just about the only fun to be had. Our little midnight rendezvous was a little taste.” She winks.

I swallow, thinking of my recent prom fail. “Do we have to go with a date?”

“Of course, and I know who your date is going to be. Never mind the way Tyrren looked at you. You were practically drooling over a certain hot mage.”

“A what?”

“A mage. The youngest and wisest so I hear. He came here from Borea when we started having troubles.”

“Do you mean Emeric? How did he end up here though?”

“He’s a champion for the fae. Doesn’t mess around. He went on an unauthorized demon-killing spree and destroyed government property in the process,” Amelia says with awe.

Me too, minus the property part. “What about you? Who are you going with?”

Amelia’s cheeks flush.

“What about Tyrren’s roommate, Aaron? He seems like a loose cannon, but not one you can’t handle.” There’s no denying her pink cheeks whenever she sees him.

“More like a missile or a landmine. He wasn’t at breakfast or class today though.” She knocks me in the shoulder. “Anyway, the ball. Despite the divide between fae and vamps, they’re trying to bridge our differences with Fae Court dances and vampire endurance games—if you think that kind of thing is fun. I do not.”

“If it’s a masquerade, what about costumes?”

“Last year I wore a yellow floor-length gown with marigolds stitched into the bodice.”

I waggle my eyebrows.

“This is an event. We get full-on fancy like the Fae Courts in Borea.” She leads me down the path to our next class, sharing all the details, especially how gorgeous I’d look in red.

Rizon and a few of his buddies bar our path.

I fold my arms across my chest and cock a hip.

“We heard you like pranks. Back at your old school, you’d do things like this with your scab friend.”

Anger as deadly as iron rises in my blood. “I. Did. Not. Spray. Paint. The. Building,” I say through gritted teeth. “And don’t use the word scab.”

“Was it you who spray painted faetcher on the quad with a big X across it?” Amelia says, coming to my defense.

He snorts. “Are you sure it wasn’t your scab boyfriend.”

My eyes narrow. “I don’t have a boyfriend and you know nothing about me.”

“We know where you come from and all about Tyrren.” Rizon leers.

I turn to Amelia, “Do you think a mouthful of broken teeth would be an improvement or—?” I rely on Tyrren to finish my sentences, but I think Rizon gets the point.

His pals back up.

“Try it. You’ll break your hand,” he says.

“It’s an unfair fight, Lea,” Amelia says then louder, “Someday, we’ll have our power back and you won’t stand a chance.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Rizon laughs.

Emeric saunters our way with his shoulders back. His expression is smug. He wears a black robe over his uniform—according to Amelia, this is a sign of him being a mage, similar to how Tyrren earned belts in jiu-jitsu. “I suggest you leave Lea and her friend alone.”

Rizon steps closer, posturing. “Is that a threat?”

“Something like that.” Emeric exudes power despite the magic suppression enforced by the school. Maybe it’s different for mages.

Rizon snorts and then storms off.

“You okay, Leajka?” Emeric whispers.

I nod. “Thank you.” I know I can handle myself but something comes over me in his presence.

“Good. I’m wondering if you’d like to accompany me to the Fae Court ball. I enjoyed dancing with you the other night.” His lips quirk.

“I’d be delighted.”

Amelia practically squeals with excitement.

For the rest of the day, all anyone talks about is the graffiti and the masquerade ball. All I can think about is the silence growing between Tyrren and me.

On Saturday evening, I stand in front of a mirror dressed in a black silk gown with an underlay of red feathers. The word that comes to mind is fascinating. The smooth fabric in my hand is like a fluid work of art. I’ve never worn anything like this. Emeric sent it to me as a gift.

Over my shoulder, Amelia smiles approvingly.

“This is so not me. I’m more of a jeans and T-shirt kind of gal.” I swish back and forth.

She laughs and gives me a mask covered with crystals and a plume on the side.

“Is this for real?” I ask.

She holds out a pair of black high heels like the kinds Ivan’s dates wear. The soles are red like the feathers. I teeter to my feet, trying to get used to balancing with the extra inches added to my already tall frame.

At twilight, Emeric meets me at my dorm. He looks regal in a velvet frock coat, trousers, and his hair loose around his face. We walk along the path leading to the common quad. Glittering lamps guide the way flickering on the cement.

“I’m surprised Jurik didn’t cancel it after the second instance of graffiti,” Amelia says, catching up to us.

“I’m surprised she didn’t blame Tyrren or me.” I tell them about being called into the office and probation.

If they’re shocked, they don’t show it as we enter the parade of couples and small groups crowding into the entryway. Emeric grips my hand as if showcasing me as his date. My cheeks warm.

I realize Amelia is probably looking for Aaron—he hasn’t been in class. I watch for his roommate. My heart sinks at the possibility that he has a date. I want him to be happy...and that’s not with me.

If I still lived a normal life, it would be my high school’s actual prom night. I wonder how much fun Lucas and Saundra are having. But it’s nothing like the kick in the gut when I see a tall blond named Jasmin on the arm of a guy wearing a black suit with tails and a gold mask with Romanesque flourishes. Jasmin leans in and says something to Tyrren. He tosses his head back with laughter.

I plaster on a smile. Music that’s nothing like what the DJ spins at regular prom plays. Instead, it’s the plucking of strings and a melodious whistle.

“Back home, dances like this would happen every weekend. The fae are a festive bunch,” Emeric says. “Even though at RIP Jr we’re meant to assimilate to be more like natural mortals, we get this one little indulgence.” He winks. “I hope you like to dance, Leajka, because I don’t plan on letting you go.”

And he doesn’t. Not as hours pass and we dance and dance. I lose myself in his arms, his whispers in my ear, and the revels surrounding us.

It’s only when there’s a pause between songs and someone taps me on the shoulder that I stop. “Excuse, me, can I have this dance?” Tyrren asks.

His expression is stony and there’s a hunger in his eyes I’ve never seen before. Then again, he’s a vampire now.

Chapter 12

Tyrren

––––––––

I press through the crowd, not in the mood to dance or even be here, leading Lea away from Emeric—the so-called fae king at RIP Jr. I whip around when someone bumps into me. I’m ready and loaded to fight—to feel something other than the prickly discomfort in my chest.

The person doesn’t apologize as they sweep onto the dancefloor.

Lea’s eyes are dark. Her lips pursed in question.

“Will you dance with me?” I repeat.

Her gaze holds mine. As the seconds pass and she doesn’t answer, the gulf between us widens. I have to be the one to cross it.

I grip the back of my neck. “I’m sorry about how things went. I’ve had to clear my head.”

“What’s cluttering it?” she asks, most certainly unused to seeing anything other than my moderately cheerful self, at least when we’re together. She doesn’t see me pounding the heck out of metal, taking out my frustrations with the hammer and anvil.

“A lot of things. Namely becoming a vampire, getting sent here, being accused of vandalism, you, and—” I close my mouth but not before I gesture in the direction from which we came. “And my roommate, Aaron, seems to have lost his mind and pulled a knife on me after telling me there’s a war coming. He’s fae. You could say there are a few things cluttering my head.”

Her brow wrinkles. “Where’d Aaron go?”

I shrug, suddenly feeling awkward. Not knowing what else to do with my hands, I catch hers in mine and begin to step right, left, right-left, leading her around the dancefloor to the otherworldly music.

We don’t quite find the rhythm. She doesn’t smile or wear a happy, carefree expression like she did at the diner.

I bite the inside of my lip. “It’s loud in here. I don’t really feel like being around people.” Controlling my urges is getting harder not easier.

Her brows lift. “Glad I don’t qualify as people. Do you want to go outside?” she asks.

“What about your date?” I ask, hoping she dismisses him as unimportant. Ugh. I sound ridiculous.

“I’m sure he won’t mind if we’re gone for a few minutes.”

He won’t mind? When has Lea ever cared about a guy minding what she does with her time?

“You and I need to talk.” There’s command in my voice.

My shoulders immediately relax when we get outside. I want to be away from the Fae Court dance. Not because it has to do with fae but because while on the dancefloor it felt like I was compelled to spin round and round...and round. It was like I could lose myself in the movement and not in a good way.

We go to one of the classroom buildings and up several flights of stairs to the roof. In the distance, the gold and ruby lights of the city sparkle.

“I don’t like this,” I say.

“Is this a multiple choice? There’s an assortment of things you could be referring to.” Lea taps her chin like she’s going to start listing items.

I gesture between us. “I don’t like whatever is happening.”

“Me neither.” She gazes at her hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too. Feels like we’ve been saying that to each other a lot since we got here.”

“The thing is, I’ve never felt understood. And that’s partly my fault because I’ve never understood myself. Being here, well, meeting Amelia and Emeric, I feel like they get it, they get me.” She lifts her eyes to meet mine. They almost match the night sky.

I know what she’s saying has merit and is important, but I understood her. Well, as much as she’d ever let me. “This isn’t easy.”

“Again, you could mean anything.” But her tone suggests she knows I mean us. Her gaze lifts to the sky. “If we could see the stars, I’d say make a wish.”

She shifts and her arm brushes mine. Warmth. Comfort. Home.

Her eyes twinkle against her dark lashes in the low light. It fills me with sadness and I have the sudden urge to kiss it away.

I only hope that when this is over, we’re okay and life goes back to being us.

If I were to close the distance between Lea’s lips and mine every question I’ve never asked would be answered. We have an undeniable connection, and my entire body vibrates when I’m close to her. But I think that right now we both just need a friend.

“What about Jasmin?” Lea asks.

My eyes close. My mind hops and spins. That’s not the girl I want to think about. “She ambushed me and pulled a pout. ‘Take me to the masquerade ball tonight?’ Although I think it was more of a statement than a request.”

Lea gives me a look I’m not sure how to interpret. Disappointment? Disgust? Triumph? Pleasure?

“And Emeric?” I don’t finish the sentence. What is he to you? Boyfriend?

One black eyebrow arches in response. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

I grip Lea’s shoulder to face me. “Don’t be so sure about that.” I know what it’s like to be completely enamored by someone. To do everything in your power to protect them, treat them well, show care, love, and gratitude. My brother would say I’m a mushy sap. It’s true.

Lea shakes her head. “Sometimes, it’s as though something primal, almost wicked comes over me, Tyrren. I can’t explain it. I’m filled with the urge to—” She swallows hard. “To do bad things.”

There’s no way she’s behind the spray paint. It’s the X-Crew or copycats.

“Like steal cars. There aren’t any here, but I’m sure we could stir up some trouble.” I tease her with a wink.

“No, much worse than that. We’ve learned about unseelie fae in class—” She lets the suggestion dangle. “When I’m with Emeric, it’s like he replaces that longing and I feel...peaceful, at ease.”

“Yeah, that I get.”

“You can’t possibly. You don’t belong here. You’re not fae. You don’t belong—”

“In your world,” I finish for her. “Newsflash, this is our world. We’re here, in Terra or whatever. Believe me, these last days have shocked me. If I were anyone else, I’d probably—”

“Freak out?” she finishes for me this time. “You’re not that kind of guy.”

“No, because I’m with—” You. She doesn’t finish for me. I inhale deeply. “Lea, I would like to dance with you. I want—”

She crushes her palm against my mouth, stopping me from saying more.

Obscuring her face is a mask with crystals and rubies fixed into the metal. Beneath that her eyes fill with liquid then she rushes toward the stairs.

The red feathers appear from the folds of her asymmetrical and edgy gown as if to remind me, and me alone, there’s a kind of softness beneath the exterior hardware that constructs Lea. To anyone else’s eye, the feathers might look like blood or flame, puncturing an otherwise black dress.

Maybe all of this back and forth isn’t good. Perhaps I don’t understand her. What if up here on the rooftop is our last chance together? What if I’m supposed to let the gulf between us broaden until it’s too wide to cross? She could be better off without me. With her people. The ones who understand her. Doubt creeps in. Animosity aside, maybe the division between vamps and fae is for good reason.

“Wait. One last dance.” I almost choke when I realize what I’ve said.

Lea stops and turns. Her lower lip falls. But she remains standing there as the strains of music filter from the common quad. “One last dance.”

My chest aches, but my hand lands on her low back and the other clasps hers in a fit so perfect it’s painful.

We sway and glide, and she only steps on my foot once. She doesn’t apologize, which is a promise that even though things are changing, that hasn’t. When I spin her around, her dress flairs out like she’s a bird on fire. A phoenix. We float across the roof until the space between us disappears. I feel the beat of her heart against my empty one. When the song ends, we remain like that, holding each other and overlooking the shoreline of the island, pricked with lanterns and flushed pink and apricot against the near darkness.

Her face goes slack. “We’d better get back.”

The pulsing, blazing energy of everyone in costume must point toward the Fae Courts of old. It must mean something to Lea. We hurry to the ball as drums beat out a steady rhythm. Once there, Lea’s hand slips from mine and she’s lost in the throng of satin, chiffon, and tailored cloth as everyone dances.

Headmistress Jurik appears in the center, wearing a poison green gown with ornate beaded trim. A plume of feathers juts from the sides of her mask like whiskers.

“Welcome to our annual Fae Court Masquerade Ball. Our work here at Riker’s is to reform your wicked ways and help you better learn how to live among natural mortals. For staying out of trouble, our gift is to honor one of the Fae Courts of old. In this way, you’ll see how the past shaped who we are and awaken you to the future, where, along with the natural mortals we can live side by side in peace and harmony. This year, we recognize the famed Southlands. The Court of Fire and Iron.” She raises a goblet.

I stand shoulder to shoulder with two girls I don’t recognize in their masks.

Headmistress Jurik goes on about taking a sip from the ceremonial goblet. “With a sip of stijl, you’ll soon know your purpose. There is no beginning and no end. You are here to awaken to your shadow.” She grins broadly, lizard-like.

The music swells. The dancing resumes. I scan the room for Lea. She’s with Emeric. For a moment it appears as if he’s whispering to her then they pass behind a few other dancers. When they come back into view, her eyes are glazed over and enamored. I’ve lost her.

A slight smile accentuates the smugness in Emeric’s eyes that comes from knowing he won the girl.

Lea is going to do what she’s going to do. She’s always been that way. I stuff down the disappointment that she’d dance with me and then fall back into his arms.

I sneak away from the ball. Lea’s probably right. I don’t understand, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting answers.

The administration building is dark. Of course, the front door is locked. Four small archways, on either side of the main domed entrance, coordinate with a crinkle of scalloped cutouts. Carvings and tile are set in stone. I’ve spent enough time with Lea to pay attention to easy access points. None here.

A utility door around the back has a flimsy lock. I pick it without trouble. Paintings line the walls and polished wood gleams in the dim light. I creep down the hall toward a heavy wooden door with the headmistress’s name on the front—the one I’ve now visited a couple of times. I turn the handle and hold my breath. Lea was always better at this stuff than me. I was just the accomplice.

Muted light filters through the windows. I have no idea what to look for other than the folder on Jurik’s desk when she’d called Lea and me in here. The Nefral Weapons crime was either bogus or perhaps I’ll find clues about what it is.

A wide oak desk is tidy with little more than a phone, container of pens, and a computer. It’s unlikely the headmistress would leave anything of importance out in the open. I click the computer on and open and close drawers while waiting for it to come to life. Of course, it’s password protected.

I sigh, troubled by my lack of discovery and slouch in the office chair. What would Lea do? She’d ransack the place and dump confetti everywhere...she’d also think like someone who has something to hide.

I don’t know which is worse, having the students or administration as enemies.

A small table by the window hosts a crystal decanter. I sniff it. More of the stijl passed around? I open the drawer in the top of the table. Napkins. Glasses. Nothing. I tap my hand against the underside of the table and sure enough, an envelope drops.

Somewhere in the building, footsteps echo on the marble floor—security.

My pulse races. I pull the papers out. On the top is a biography with Lea’s name printed in bold. Her photo is paperclipped to it. Next, there’s Amelia and several other fae girls. I flip through and reach Aaron. His face is crossed out.

The beam of a flashlight rises and falls on the wall in the corridor. I bolt across the room and hide behind the door. The flashlight illuminates the office and lands on something glinting by the small table under the window. The security officer enters the room, pads across the carpet, and bends over to pick that something up. He inspects a paperclip before setting it on the desk. With his back turned, I dash into the hall. The plush carpet mutes my footfalls. I go back out the way I came and don’t bother stopping back at the dance.

I enter my room and pull out the files. With shaking hands, I recognize the names and faces of many of the other students. It isn’t only Aaron’s photo that is crossed out. There are three others. The only thing I can come up with that they have in common is that they’re all fae...and I’m not. Yet, at the bottom, there’s my bio and photo. Under my name, it says, vampire.

Focused on what this could mean, I don’t react quickly enough when someone shoves my door open, sending me stumbling over the stuff strewn around my room. My attacker smells like smoke and the inside of a Brooklyn trash bin on collection day.