SHAKING. LOTS of it. The kind that rivaled most San Franciscan earthquakes. I slapped away the hand on my shoulder. I rolled over in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. Somehow my bed had morphed into a hard slab, but I chalked it up to still being half-asleep. Anything that involved me that day had to do with lying in bed. My body felt too heavy to even want to move. Damnable light pierced through the darkness behind my eyelids, so I reached for my head. Where did my pillow go?
“Camron, you have to wake up,” a female voice urged.
The shaking continued.
“Riya, if you don’t stop shaking me, I swear I’ll put toothpaste in your shoes,” I threatened, my voice like gravel underfoot. A metallic tang coated my sandpaper tongue.
My torturer gasped. “Mr. Masters, get up. Get up right now!”
Several giggles and a few laughs greeted my slowly waking ears like irritating birdsong. People. As in plural. Wait a freakin’ second. I lifted one eyelid to peek at who wanted me up so early, but the bright morning light forced me to shut it again. I pushed myself up to a seated position. I brought the heels of my hands to my eyes and rubbed the sleep out of them. Then I stifled a yawn, stretched my arms above my head, and finally opened my eyes.
Sunlight streamed in from the large windows. I found myself sitting on top of a long study table located at the center of the library. Along with Ms. Lipinski, several students crowded the table I sat on like they might observe mold growing in a petri dish.
“What am I doing here?” I blurted out.
“That’s what we’d like to know,” Ms. Lipinski said, her brow prune-wrinkled.
My gut sank. Ah crap.
I finally managed to swallow. The metallic taste made me want to gag. Gaige and Troyan must have drugged me. But why would they leave me in the library instead of bringing me back to the dorms? Then the monster realization crashed on top of me. I didn’t use the word imbecile lightly, but I thought it appropriate for my current situation. I’d been tricked and left to the wolves.
“Ms. Lipinski,” I said with great trepidation. “By any chance, does the headmaster want to see me?”
My question had all the students stepping away from the table.
“Why, as a matter of fact—”
I hopped off the table and ran for the door. Luckily, two girls were coming in just as I reached it, saving me the trouble of struggling with its impossible weight. I elbowed my way past them, much to their annoyed protestations. I didn’t care. I had more important things to figure out.
Outside, I made a right. My lungs felt tight, hungry for every breath. I stumbled into the nearest blue-and-white bathroom and slammed the door shut. If Troyan went to great lengths to expose my breaking curfew that meant there was truth in his words. He kept saving me from all the others, insisting they could kill me without a second thought. He would actually see me expelled just to keep me safe.
I leaned on the door to keep anyone else from coming in as the bell gonged eight times. I damned Troyan to a slow and painful death. My heart pounded so hard that I felt it in my head as I made my way to the sinks. I gripped the porcelain and stared at the drain before looking at my reflection in the mirror. Just as I suspected—ashen skin and purple splotches underneath my eyes. Not my best look, even after clubbing all night.
I quickly washed my face and rinsed out my mouth. Then I ran my fingers through my hair and tugged at my uniform. The wrinkles persisted.
Giving up on trying to look like I hadn’t slept in the library all night, I left the bathroom. The first breaking of curfew was free. The second was totally on me. I hurried to the north end of Braylin castle, which housed the administration offices, three rooms side by side. The secretary, registrar, and staff occupied the first room. The records room sat at the center. And at end lay the office of the man I’d been handed to on a hard wooden table.
At first, I couldn’t bring myself to enter Kiev’s office. The massive door with its gold nameplate that spelled out HEADMASTER in black letters seemed to mock me. It looked too formal, too highbrow. If the wood had a face, I was sure its eyebrow would be arched as if to say “You deserve what you’re about to get in here.”
Yet, really, there was no point in waiting any longer. I twisted the knob and pushed my way in. At the other end of the room stood a tall man gazing out bay windows that offered up a view of the northern courtyard. Below, students hustled from one end to the other to get to class.
The headmaster had dark hair, a clean-shaven face, broad shoulders, and long legs. I would have thought of Aleksander Kiev as handsome if the concept of good-looking hadn’t changed forever for me. Meeting Troyan, Zaire, and the rest of the “too attractive for their own good” crew messed with the bell curve.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Mr. Masters,” Kiev said in his Russian-accented English.
I flinched. He regarded me with a neutral expression, his hands clasped behind his back. He reminded me of my father in this moment, and I tensed. It put me on edge.
“I took a detour,” I mumbled, intent on staring at my boots, hands in my pockets.
“What detour?”
“Bathroom.”
“I see.” He sighed. “Please take a seat.”
I looked up at him. He had moved from the windows to his oxblood leather chair. His cherrywood-paneled office had a fireplace, reading chairs, a wall filled with books, and a painting of a woman draped over a man kissing her neck. It hung over the mantel. The plush carpet reflected the Braylin colors, which made the room darker than it should be.
“I’ll stand, thanks,” I said, too nervous to sit still. I couldn’t be sure of what Kiev knew. If anything, Troyan had already spoken to him.
“All right.” He laid his hands on the armrests of his chair. “I assume you know why you are here?”
I shrugged. Feigning indifference always helped determine the wrong committed without accidentally confessing to a different crime.
Kiev studied me for the longest time. “Mr. Masters, you’ve been caught breaking curfew.”
“Headmaster, I can explain—”
“Twice,” he interrupted without changing the cadence of his voice. “As you know, Braylin does not impose many rules. The students who attend classes here are specifically chosen for their academic achievements. They work hard and are good at what they do. They study to the best of their abilities, which does not leave much room for disciplinary offenses.”
In short we were all nerds. We liked stability. We liked to study.
“How is this connected to my breaking curfew?” I asked.
“I was just getting to that,” Kiev answered in an even tone.
I briefly wondered how rude I would have to get to bring out the anger. It didn’t take much to piss off most people. The only person I’d tried and failed to get riled up barely spoke to me unless absolutely necessary. I bit my lip hard for slipping into thoughts of my father again.
“Normally, I would be signing your expulsion papers right about now.”
A ray of hope parted the storm clouds above me. “But?”
“You have friends in high places.” He gave me an all-knowing look.
“What are you hiding here at Braylin, Mr. Kiev?” I asked.
His expression went from neutral to serious in less than a second. “For your own safety, Mr. Masters, I suggest you forget about the existence of the individuals you have recently come in contact with. It is a miracle that you are even standing before me… alive.”
Tell me about it. Then the first part of what he’d said clicked into place.
“Is that a threat?”
“Only if you make it one.”
My palms felt damp inside my pockets. “So, why not expel me? It’s the easiest thing to do.”
“Like I said, you have friends in high places.” Kiev reorganized his features to the neutral mask. “For now, you are being put under disciplinary probation.”
I couldn’t stop the sigh of relief that left my lungs.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You are not getting off that easy, Mr. Masters.”
I waited for the rest of what Kiev had to say. It hardly mattered since I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize my stay at Braylin. Not anymore. Troyan was right. It was too dangerous to keep digging. I didn’t want to risk being anyone else’s dinner.
“You will not break curfew again. You will attend all your classes and report to me every day before you leave campus. And you most certainly will not mention what happens on campus after sunset to anyone. If you do, I assure you that I will not only expel you, I will expel everyone you have told. No one, and I mean no one, will be able to stop me. Am I making myself clear?”
I had so many choice comebacks for the authoritative way he doled out my punishment, but I stopped myself. Instead I said, with complete resolve, “Crystal.”