Strange Academy (Hot Paranormal Romance) (7 page)
“How are you doing, dear?” The ghost of Aunt Pippa settled herself on the edge of the bed where Sadie slept, indenting Sadie’s scarlet duvet as if she had weight. She looked younger than Sadie had ever seen her. These crazy dreams had been the only thing keeping her sane these past weeks.
“Not well.” Sadie sat up and hugged the blankets around her. Pippa wore the yellow sundress again. The chill in the evening air might not bother a ghost, but Sadie shivered. “The kids behave themselves but spend my class watching the clock. Not just the fifth graders, either. They’ve decided I’m not worth their time, thanks to Gray. Did you have this problem?”
Pippa looked down and smoothed a wrinkle out of the quilt. “Uh, no.” Her voice was apologetic.
“What should I do?”
“Sadie...”
“Right. This is a dream. Though you look like my aunt, you’re a manifestation of my subconscious. Since I don’t know, you don’t know.” She wrapped her arms around her knees. “I can’t shake the feeling something weird is going on.”
Aunt Pippa rolled her eyes in an uncharacteristic fit of sarcasm. “No, it’s perfectly normal to spend your sleeping hours talking to a dead woman who thought she was a witch.”
“They had a school assembly last Monday and I wasn’t invited.” The past few weeks had been filled with incidents that didn’t mean anything on their own but, when added up, seemed like something more. Maybe she was being paranoid, but she couldn’t shake the feeling everyone knew something she didn’t. “Sometimes I walk into rooms and conversations just stop. It’s bizarre.”
“That is strange,” agreed Pippa, as if reassuring a child there wasn’t a monster under the bed.
“And no one ever brings me house problems. All the kids go to Gray or Jewel Jones.”
The other teachers were politely distant. Jewel seemed more open but sometimes said odd things—like when she’d said she was taking her class to scry a meteor shower. “Jewel’s a little scatterbrained. But nice. Is it a bad thing that no one’s moved the statue from my doorway?”
“I think Thalia mistook your cookie for an offering. It’s never a bad thing to have a goddess on your side.”
“Thalia?”
“Muse of comedy.”
“I didn’t know I knew that.” Funny the things your subconscious picked up. Dream Pippa seemed wiser than her real aunt had been. “I keep overhearing the word ‘meta.’ I asked Jewel what it meant once, but she changed the subject.”
“You know,” Pippa said dreamily, “I like having these talks with you, dear.”
Pippa was so—wait a minute! “You did it, too.” Sadie’s eyes went hot with irritation.
“Sadie, you’re imagining me. So if I change the subject, whose fault is it?”
A crack of moonlight slanted across the bed. Both she and Pippa watched the silvery dust motes dance in it for a moment.
Sadie broke the silence. “I’m sorry we never talked this way when you were alive.”
Pippa nodded and said, with genuine regret in her tone, “You didn’t want me to be a witch.”
Sadie winced. At her sixteenth birthday party, Pippa had given her a ceremonial carved magic wand. Her friends had laughed and made fairy godmother jokes. She’d laughed too, trying to fit in with the clique. Despite Pippa’s pained expression, she’d spent the afternoon granting wishes.
What a stupid kid she’d been. Not a single one of those girls from the party was her friend now. And Pippa was dead. “I missed out on a lot.”
“Don’t make me into a perfect person just because I’m dead, dear. I held a grudge too long, and it cost us both.” Moonlight bleached one side of Pippa’s face, while the other darkened with shadow. “But at least we can talk now.”
“I know, it’s great, except for when—”
“I bring up Gray?” Pippa interrupted, her face brightening with mischief.
Sadie flinched. “That part makes me nervous.”
“He’s just so dishy.” Pippa’s voice went dreamy.
Sadie’s stomach churned. “I wish you’d stop saying those things.”
“I’m a figment of your imagination, remember? So you’re the one saying them.”
“That’s why I wish you’d stop.” She rubbed her forehead. “I saw him with his son yesterday.”
Pippa started, her back snapping straight. “Gray doesn’t have a son.”
“Sure he does,” Sadie countered. “Sterling.”
“Nephew.”
“Nephew? How do I know that?” And why did she feel so relieved there wasn’t a Mrs. Alumnus somewhere?
“Um.” Dream Pippa bit her lip for a second before snapping her fingers. “Sterling doesn’t live in Gray’s apartment. If Gray was the boy’s father, he would, wouldn’t he?”
“Right.” That made sense. “Now if I could only work out who murdered you. Pippa, I don’t understand any of the clues in the box. The symbolism of the skull is obvious—”
“His name is Yorick. ”
“The silver earrings are nice, too, and I’ve always wanted a bust of Athena, like in Poe’s ‘The Raven,’ but what kind of clue is a game of tiddlywinks?”
Pippa sighed in exasperation. “How many times do I have to tell you no one murdered me, dear? And they aren’t clues. They’re just things you need.”
She wished for the real Pippa, not her subconscious’s version. But it was the real Pippa who had given her these obscure clues instead of just telling her who she thought was going to kill her. “I saw Gray with Sterling yesterday. I walked around the corner and Gray was hugging Sterling. In a very manly way, of course—”
Pippa shivered. Since she couldn’t be chilly, Sadie didn’t want to think what it meant. “Of course.”
“Sterling had this miserable look on his face.” She frowned at the memory. “It’s the first emotion I’ve seen from him. He’s a cold little kid.”
“Maybe not so cold.” Pippa pursed her lips. “Poor boy.”
“His uncle looked almost as miserable, like his heart was breaking. Then he saw me and ripped into me for something. I can’t even remember what. Breathing, possibly. Nephew, huh?”
“What are you thinking?” Shouldn’t Dream Pippa already know, being a manifestation of her own subconscious?
“Family must be important to him.” Really important. The way he’d menaced her... “He put himself between me and Sterling like I was some kind of threat. I think he would have done the same thing if I were a rampaging elephant.”
Pippa got her dreamy look again. “Heartwarming.”
“In an annoying way,” she agreed. “Do you hear that pounding noise?”
“I hope it’s Gray,” Pippa said.
*
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*
It wouldn’t work. Gray reached around the marble statue to pound on the door, the pulse of pain in his knuckles a welcome distraction from his aching stress knot.
Why the hell did it take her so long just to answer the damned door? To irritate him, of course. She calculated everything she did to drive him crazy, from the time he caught her spying on him and Sterling, to the kiss he hadn’t been able to forget for two weeks. Well, it wouldn’t work.
The door swung inward and a thrown-together Sadie, still tying her lopsided robe around a willowy waist, peeped around Thalia. Fresh pillow marks pinked her right cheek, like she’d rolled out of bed, leaving her sleeping lover. She’d probably maneuvered that, too. It wouldn’t work.
“It won’t work,” he exploded, quietly. He’d be in it deep if anyone caught him here.
“Huh?” She pushed an unruly lock of hair off her face.
“I’m engaged,” he informed her.
Sleepy brown eyes opened further. “How pleasant for you.”
“I’m coming in.”
She stepped out of the way. “Mind the muse.”
He checked to see no one was watching before he ducked under Thalia’s arm and shut the door behind him.
“For me?” Her eyes lit in feigned pleasure when she noticed the cardboard box under his arm. “Peace offering, maybe?”
The knot under his shoulder blade tightened. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
“The most extraordinary chemistry teacher on the planet?” She rubbed the corner of her eye with her third finger, flipping him off.
“Don’t toy with me. It won’t work. I’m engaged.”
Her eyes blazed with fury. She jutted out her hip and stabbed her finger into his chest. “Now, you listen to me—”
He thrust the box at her breasts. Chest, he corrected himself. Right. Chest.
She raised a curious eyebrow. With cautious fingers, she parted the flaps and peeped in like she expected a poisonous viper. But the only snake here wore a black kimono.
“I’m—” She pulled out two triangles of facial tissue joined by a band of dental floss. An odd look crossed her face. “If you want to wear ladies’ panties, it’s not my business.” And she tried to shove the box back at him.
“Not funny, Sadie. Or is it ‘Sadist?’” He tapped the shipping address on the parcel. “This part was a big mistake.”
Her face fell as she read the address. S.S. c/o L. Gray. Strange Hall, Strange Academy, etc. etc.
“I didn’t order these.” She rooted through the box, the tissue paper crinkling. “Maybe someone is playing a prank.”
Watching Sadie, the vee of her robe revealing white flesh as she explored the contents of the box, he had the sudden urge to spill everything.
Sadie, no one put Thalia at your door. She goes where she wants to. We think the statue’s haunted, but she’s considered lucky, so we leave her alone. Lots of weird things go on here. See, every kid at Strange Academy has something special about them. Magic users. Mutants. Werewolves. IQs off the measurable scale. Technopagans. Genies. All the teachers have Talents, except for you. I’m one of the premier mages of the age. We teach these kids to be heroes. You can’t, so you should leave. But before you do, we could
...
“Did you unwrap every one?” Balancing the box under an arm, she stretched a pair over her hips to check the size.
He could see her black kimono through the leopard-print mesh. His pants suddenly tightened.
“Oh, pretty!” She brought out the smallest red scrap he’d ever seen. His mouth dropped open as she slid it over her cheek, eyes closing in pleasure. She sighed. “Silk.”
The air growled. No, it was him. Brown eyes shot open. Sadie’s breath caught, then matched his, their chests rising in unison. She froze, the panties still held to her cheek.
With her long hair wild around her head and her robe threatening to fly open, he wanted to take Sadie Strange right there. To throw her down on Pippa’s floor and find out what she wore underneath her kimono.
Maybe it was the tension, the conflict. Maybe it was the thrill of the chase or pure chemistry. He wanted her more than he’d wanted any woman. Definitely more than April.
His fiancée. She was like a sister to him, but he grabbed the thought of April like a drowning man grabs a lifejacket.
He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m not going to spend my time thinking about what you’re wearing underneath your robe. I should sue you for sexual harassment.”
Sadie threw back her head and laughed, an alto chuckle, husky from sleep. The motion spread her robe open to the curves of her breasts. “Go ahead. I’ll see you in court.”
Somehow, he kept himself from ripping his hair out. “I’m engaged, so knock it off.”
“Listen to what I am telling you.” She spoke slowly, enunciating every syllable. “I. Did. Not. Do. This.”
He stormed out the door. He’d never stormed out the door to get away from April.
He heard a voice behind him. “Gray.”
As if it wasn’t enough she’d gotten the last word, now she wanted another one? He set his jaw like iron.
Shadows cast by the hallway lights, left low to guide students to the shared bathroom, played softly with her curves. Small bare feet slapped on the ancient wooden floor. Her lips pursed with concern. “How’s Sterling?”
His temper flared. He grabbed her by the shoulders. Only his overwhelming physical advantage kept him from shaking Sadie until her head bobbled on her neck. “Stay away from my nephew.”
She shoved him. Actually shoved him. She didn’t have his strength, but the surprise of it made him let her go and step back. “I just wanted to know if he’s okay, Alumnus.”
“I can take care of it.”
“Sure.” Sadie turned on her heel and swung her sweetheart ass back into Pippa’s apartment, twirling an orange scrap from her index finger. He hated he was still watching after her when she popped out the door again. “Oh, and Gray...”
Waggling her tongue at him, she posed the orange thong panties over Thalia’s marble hips.
He turned his back and stalked down the hall. No more playing. She had to go.
He stomped down the stairs to his apartment, his mind whirling. Problem was, in front of everyone else, she didn’t act like the she-devil he knew she was. How could he make Cross and the others see Pippa’s visions of the future were wrong when they came to Pippa’s niece?
A memory bubbled up. Something Sadie had said on her first day. He froze in mid-stride, clutching the curved handrail of the stairs. About being looked up to. No, about being
looked down on
...Her work. Being looked down on.
He stalked down the hall, buoyed by the thought. Something to look into.
*
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*
Two days later, Gray strutted into the Friday staff meeting with a briefcase containing everything he needed to get Sadie fired. Ironically, he’d considered using magic against her when the answer to the problem sat on the shelf of the local convenience store next to tabloids claiming Angelina Jolie was an alien clone.
Of course, the truth about Ms. Jolie was far more interesting.
The room was packed with teachers of different ages and backgrounds, most of whom talked in animated groups, usually about the progress of their students. Shapeshifters drifted toward shapeshifters, psychics toward psychics. Only a few of the more eccentric types, like Ella Roman, who muttered complicated mathemagical formulas to herself, sat alone.
This was why Sadie didn’t belong here. These people were all different, but they’d come together as a community for the good of their kids. She could never understand this, never be a part of it.
A square-jawed man nodded in Gray’s direction from near the back of the room. Gray strode over to him.
