Strange Academy (Hot Paranormal Romance) (19 page)

It informed her that school procedure required that they never give out personal information, but that Mr. English would be contacted and asked to phone her.

She’d blinked at the paper, not knowing how to process this weird form of communication. And when she’d looked up to thank the secretary, she’d noticed something she hadn’t seen before. The blue glow of the computer screen reflected in her glasses...well, it continued reflecting even when she wasn’t at her computer.

Sadie had thanked her and gotten the hell out.

So all she had to do now was wait. Unfortunately, that was all she could do, which left her irritated and bored. Thus, the Chunky Monkey.

The spoon scraped cardboard. At this rate, her supply wouldn’t last two weeks, she realized. Christian had e-mailed the phone number of a caretaker who lived in Blanche Neige, the town nearby. He had orders to bring her anything, but Sadie couldn’t phone for something so dumb.

I probably shouldn’t medicate my loneliness with food anyway,
she thought.
At least not this often.

She flicked on the TV, only to be menaced by a crazy-eyed, ax-wielding Jack Nicholson—a character driven crazy by a lonely winter of forced confinement in a big, silent building. Suddenly, going to the gym to work off her loneliness seemed like a great idea.

A few minutes later, she ducked under Thalia’s arm with her gym bag slung over her shoulder.

Something cold hit the back of her neck, making her jump straight up.

Hell. What was that? She pressed her back against the corridor wall. “Who’s there?” she whispered into the hallway. The only answering noise was the wild beating of her heart.

She looked up at the stone goddess. Her lips seemed just a little more curved than usual. Was her crook a little lower? She touched it. It was pretty cold.

“You did that.” She poked a finger between the statue’s perfectly curved breasts. “Not funny.” She ignored the smirking goddess and marched off down the stairs without looking back.

But the eerie glow she saw over the balustrade wasn’t her imagination; it was a light on the first floor. Sadie froze. Someone was here, she realized. Her heart leaped into her throat for the second time in as many minutes. What was going on?

What if being alone on campus didn’t mean she was safe?

Fear vibrated through her, forcing herself to grit her teeth to keep them from rattling against each other.

It could just be a prankster. Yes, that was right. That’s what it was. No one was trying to hurt her because she was an outsider here.
It was probably just some jerk trying to get his jollies by scaring her,
she tried to convince herself. And she almost believed it.

Whatever the reason for this person being here, the best way to deal with it was to take it on, not wait for the intruder to come looking for her.

Silently, she dropped her coat and bag on the stairs and slipped back into her room, her mind spinning with a plan. She hefted her biggest book, an illustrated complete works of William Blake, off the shelf.
I’m going to brain this guy with one of the first comic books ever printed,
she thought.

And get blood all over Blake’s beautiful prints? No way.

Sitting right next to the book on the shelf was Yorick, the skull Pippa had given her. These are things you’ll need, Pippa had said. To herself, Sadie grinned evilly. The prankster wouldn’t know what hit him. She put her fingers in the empty eye sockets and held Yorick like a bowling ball, screwing her courage to the sticking place.

A few minutes later, she stood outside a door on the first floor. Teens needed access to food 24/7, so each dorm at Strange Academy had a well-stocked kitchen. This one was also stocked with a jerk who thought it was funny to scare people.

Whoever was rustling around behind the counter stopped rustling. Had he seen her? She had to make her move.

She tiptoed in on sock feet and crouched behind the opposite side of the counter. The rustling began again, but it was different this time. It was moving. It was coming around the corner. Blood pounded in Sadie’s brain. Her heart beat like a keyboard tapped by a sixty-words-a-minute secretary.

She raised her arms in preparation to swing Yorick down with all her strength. She grinned, imagining the crack of skull on skull.

“Towanda!” she yelled, as she brought Yorick down.

*

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*

Dammit. Gray glanced at his Rolex for the hundredth time. He threw the car into park, making it slide slightly on the ice-slicked pavement of his designated parking spot in the lot behind Strange Hall. He’d been through security at Trudeau Airport when his flight had been cancelled due to the freezing rain. Why had he bought a plane ticket in the first place? The things were too damn unreliable.

Maybe because it would delay his meeting April by ten hours.

Well, at least he didn’t have to stand around with the Non losers waiting for the weather to smile on this godforsaken country. He had options. He lifted his Christian Dior luggage out of the backseat and dashed up the path leading to Strange Hall’s front door. Frigid rain splattered from the sky to slick the black path and decorate the skeletal limbs of trees menacing overhead with foot-long icicles.

Oh well. He would only be a couple of hours late to meet April for their ski vacation in the Italian Alps.

And you can check on Sadie’s sanity,
said his inner voice.

Shut up, he told himself. His mood lightened at the thought of trading a few barbs with her again, but darkened again when he remembered the black mood she’d been in lately.

He stepped inside the Strange Hall foyer and shook the melting ice out of his hair. The droplets fell to the marble floor like gunshots. Without the students, silence made the place into a museum.

Then he noticed a jacket—it had to be Sadie’s—sprawled abandoned on the curving staircase. His senses prickled in warning when he saw the gym bag spilled open on the steps.

Dread soured his stomach.
Something bad happened here,
he thought.
To Sadie.
Guilt nearly overwhelmed him. He ignored it and shrugged his luggage to the floor.

He took the stairs two at a time. Pressing himself against the wall, he saw a light in her room, along with a low, warbling shriek. He knew the sound; he’d heard it once on assignment in Hyderabad. And then, after that night, in his worst dreams.

Impossible
. His mind rebelled at the thought of a Brahmaparusha demon being able to pierce Strange Academy’s protective magic circle, unless Sadie had somehow invited it in.

Like she had with Count Burana.

He felt sick. The noise. The burning smell scenting the air. It added up.

He stepped silently down the hall, hoping the ten-foot-tall demon—black as tar, with spikes of yellow hair—wouldn’t hear. Sadie wasn’t screaming. She’d been lucky; the thing had killed her before it gnawed the flesh off her head and drank her blood. It might be wearing her intestines around its neck at this moment. He swallowed but didn’t loosen the lump in his throat.

A round object glowed white on the floor outside her apartment. Ducking behind Thalia, he scooped it up—and immediately wished he hadn’t. Darkness stared back at him through her empty eye sockets, licked clean of flesh. Bile rose in his throat as he crouched in the hallway, but he managed to place Sadie’s skull on the floor with reverence.

Now he was responsible for the deaths of two Strange women. I will make the demon suffer for killing Sadie, Gray thought. I swear it. With practiced movements, he undid the buttons on his coat and pulled two spells out of his inside pockets. One was a charm to slow his opponent. The other would finish it off.

Placing his thumbs on the plastic caps of his potions, he stood against the wall. The warbling death-cry skyrocketed in volume, puncturing his eardrums. He ducked under Thalia’s arm, his potions ready, and burst into the room, ready to do battle.

He froze, blinking in shock at the bizarre scene.

Chapter Thirteen

“Uncle Gray?” Sterling sounded as confused as Sadie felt at Gray’s appearance in Pippa’s apartment, grim and threatening.

The three of them stood frozen: Gray filling the doorframe, Thalia behind him; Sterling and Sadie petrified in mid-dance step. Only the Barenaked Ladies continued, their Yoko Ono impression warbling enthusiastically from the CD player.

Then Gray sniffed the air. She followed his line of sight toward the kitchen behind her.

Dark smoke wafted from behind the wall, creeping upward.

“Sh—” She caught the swear just in time. “Shoot.”

Heart pumping, she ran and snatched a pan off the element. Its black contents sent up a burnt offering to the heavens.

The music disappeared. Seconds later, both Sterling and his uncle came into the kitchen. Gray wore a pewter-colored winter coat and a scowl that could have cracked glass. She held the pan under the range hood and flipped the fan to max.

“I wanted peanut butter anyway,” Sterling lied, eyeing his uncle’s stony glare.

She smiled. Sterling was really cute once you got to know him. And when he wasn’t scaring you to death by being in places he wasn’t supposed to be, like dormitory kitchens when he should have been on Christmas holidays with his parents.

“Do you think they deliver pizza in this weather?” She tipped the still-smoking sandwiches into the garbage.

Gray grabbed her arm and glared down his Roman nose at her. “What do you think you’re doing? I’ll have you fired for this.”

She wrenched her arm from his grip and grabbed his in return. As she dragged him out the door, she called over her shoulder. “Be right back, Sterling. Need to talk to your uncle.”

She somehow maneuvered two-hundred-plus pounds of startled Gray right into the service elevator at the end of the dimly lit hall, stepped in herself and jabbed all the buttons except “5.”

“Go,” she told him, when the doors closed.

It was like firing a starter’s pistol. Everything inside Gray came pouring out, in the upper decibel range. “You will never see the inside of a schoolroom again...”

She folded her arms and let him go. He paced the elevator—it only took him two steps before he had to turn—and waved his hands to punctuate his points. He snorted. He spewed. He raged. He loomed, never actually touching her. Whenever a light went out on the elevator panel, she hit the button again.

She tuned out his words. If only she could tune out the effect he had on her so easily. All she could think about, as he marched back and forth, his bulk filling the little, private room, was The Kiss. His presence shoved her right back into her moment of insanity on the photocopier. His tongue tangling with hers, heat following the trace of his fingers up her leg, her insides quivering at his touch.

When he quieted—which was good, because they’d been through the floors twice and her ears ached—she spoke. “You done?”

With a cat’s speed, he whirled away from her and threw a fist into the elevator wall. She winced at the bone-crunching noise. “My stupid brother. He forgot Sterling, didn’t he?”

“I think so. Yes.”

“It’s Christmas.” There was a hitch in Gray’s voice.

“I’m aware.” She’d nearly caved in Sterling’s skull with Yorick. Her relief at not hurting him had been overwhelming. Without thinking, she’d hugged him tight. After a few moments, she realized he was sobbing.

There was only one reason for him to be there. She had held him close for a long time, her heart aching for a lonely-as-hell ten-year-old.

Gray turned on her, his eyes just as hard as when he’d exploded into Pippa’s apartment, his coat flapping behind him. “I’d never do that to my son. It’s Christmas.” He slumped against the wall and shoved his big hands into his coat pockets.

Gray had said that twice now. Could the big tough mage actually put as high a value on family as she did? “I know.”

“What the hell are you wearing?”

Sadie blinked. “Wha—? Oh, this. It’s a skirt.”

“There’s black lace on your top. Your lips are purple instead of pink. You’re one of those Goths, aren’t you?”

“It’s maroon. If you’re finished critiquing my wardrobe—which is none of your business—I’m going back to Pippa’s apartment. I don’t want leave him alone.”

Gray’s hair glistened even more than usual, wet from the cold rain. “When is Dom coming to pick Sterling up?”

Dom. The brother, she guessed, and shrugged.

“You didn’t call his parents?” Gray raised a black eyebrow. The elevator lurched up to the next floor.

“He didn’t ask me to.”

Gray nodded. “He’s too proud.”

“He’d be humiliated,” she agreed.

“Dom would buy him expensive presents to make up for it.” There was acid in Gray’s tone.

“It never would.”

Gray’s eyes filled with surprise at her understanding.

“He’s my responsibility.” Gray straightened.

“He’s all right here with me,” she assured him. “We’ll have fun.”

“He’s coming with me. He’s my—”

“’Responsibility.’” She didn’t bother to hide the venom in her tone. “He’s also a ten-year-old human being. How do you think he’d feel if he heard you talking like that? Would you rather spend Christmas with someone who calls you his responsibility, or someone just happy to have you around?” Happy to have the company, to have the distraction of looking after someone instead of just sitting around waiting for Eton English to phone and talk to her about her aunt’s death. A phone call that might never come.

She pressed the button for the fifth floor. The door opened and she marched out of the elevator, looking toward the light coming from Pippa’s apartment.

Gray stood in the elevator, a stunned look on his sculpted face.

“Just go away.” She lowered her voice to a hiss. “I’m going back there to make the best Christmas I can for him with what I have because an oh-so-honorable Meta decided to wipe my brain if I leave campus.”

As the elevator door closed behind her, she heard a blunt sound, like a fist hitting a wall.