Page 17 of A Mastery of Monsters

James Shaw seems no different than any other man on the street.

He’s got the look of a friend’s dad. Soft around the middle and stern in the face.

Just a man. But when he raises his hands, the entire room falls silent.

The level of obedience is oppressive. It’s a hand on the back of your head, shoving you to the ground, and you on your knees, glad of it.

And this man isn’t even the actual Doctorate.

“Welcome, students,” he says. “I am honored to learn with you.”

“And us with you,” the crowd intones as one.

If that’s not some cult shit, then I don’t know what is.

James goes on to talk about the number of new students, who he points out in the crowd, and encourages them to spread the truth to new trusted Learners.

He notes the importance of sticking close to those in the community and avoiding excess involvement in the affairs of the unenlightened.

He speaks about people outside of the society like they’re a separate species, and no one bats an eye.

I can’t tell if everyone is buying this, or if they’re just going along with it to take advantage of the power and opportunities supposedly associated with this organization.

I’ve yet to see any of this promised opulence, but there wouldn’t be all this politicking if there weren’t money on the line.

Weiss may have grown up poor, but at some point that must have changed.

His society became profitable and powerful.

James steps back, and Adam comes forward.

His voice is lighter and less severe than his brother’s, and he wears several overlapping cord necklaces.

“I’m excited to share the details of this year’s Bachelor candidacy with you.

First, many thanks to our professors who will be running the competition, to our Masters who have arrived today in advance of their judging and participation duties, and to the students who assist in keeping this process running smoothly. ”

Get on with it already . Isn’t the announcement of nominations the whole reason this meeting is happening?

He turns to Carrigan, and I wait for the third brother to come forward and say something. Instead, he raises a single eyebrow.

Adam sighs and turns back to the mic. “I suppose I will lead the nominations for candidates. If you have a student to nominate, please stand.”

Virgil’s eyes dart around the room, examining the people getting up from their chairs, I assume searching for whoever he thinks might nominate me.

In the crowd, I spot Natalie looking at me. But in a blink, her gaze is elsewhere. Fast enough to make me question if she really was watching me. She doesn’t stand and neither does Corris beside her.

Adam points to a Master and asks to hear the woman’s nomination. She names Violet Sharma, a South Asian–looking girl with dark hair and equally dark eye makeup and lipstick. The crowd claps, Adam wishes her luck, and both the nominator and nominee sit down.

It continues on like that. Adam points to a Master and hears their nomination, and more and more of them sit down. James is rapt with attention during the ceremony, while their brother Carrigan scrolls on his phone the whole time.

When one boy’s name is called, Caden Mosser, Virgil sucks in a breath beside me.

I look at him, and he shakes his head. There doesn’t seem to be anything special about the kid.

He’s white with brown hair cropped neatly, dressed in a button-down shirt and pants.

He looks like the guy in class who raises his hand to ask a question and makes a devil’s advocate statement instead.

As the nominations continue, my own knee starts bouncing, and I do nothing to stop it.

I lick my lips and try not to think of Jules, who it is becoming increasingly obvious I’ve already failed.

Fuck. I didn’t think things would go wrong so quickly.

I should have sucked it up and groveled to Henry like I was supposed to. Like the old August would have.

The final Master names his candidate, and it isn’t me.

When they both sit down, the sound echoes in my ears, even though I know it was only a slight swish of fabric.

Beside me, Virgil sits ramrod straight. I think if I touched him, he would fall over.

I make the mistake of looking around and see smirks directed toward us. Toward him .

I swallow and bow my head. I’m thinking of Mom. Of what she said that day, the last time I saw her.

“You need to learn to take things seriously and be responsible! You can see your friends any day of the week. That’s a privilege! I’m trying to teach you a skill. I cannot believe you would be this ungrateful. This flippant. Do you think success is something that gets handed to you? Do you?!”

“I’m still grateful,” Virgil mumbles, and I start, choking on nothing. “You tried. I asked, and you tried. And I’ll always appreciate that.”

My bottom lip trembles, and I suck it into my mouth to hide it. I can’t listen to this. I can’t listen to him try to act like he isn’t disappointed. Like he isn’t furious at me. If he could, he would say the same things she did. He’s thinking them. He must be. Ungrateful. Flippant. Irresponsible.

“The final nomination shall be made by me.”

I’m so caught in my thoughts that I almost miss Adam’s words. My neck snaps up. And I’m not the only one. Everyone was already listening, but this level of attention is sharper. The air in the room is humid and stifling. So thick that I’m struggling to breathe.

Adam says, “I would like to nominate August Black.”

He… Did he just…?

“Stand,” Margot hisses, and I shoot to my feet.

I lock eyes with Adam, this man who’s clearly important and yet a complete stranger to me. “I wish you luck,” he says with a smile.

His brothers, on the other hand, look less than delighted.

James’s lips are pressed together in clear disapproval.

And Carrigan has finally decided to look away from his phone to stare at me through the curtain of his curly bangs.

Like he’s trying to figure out what possessed his brother to nominate me.

There’s clapping, but it’s choppy and scattered, like people can’t decide if they should be doing it or not. Margot tugs the hem of my skirt. I sit, smacking onto my chair hard enough to actually create an echo in the room.

I look at Virgil, who stares back with wide eyes.

Somehow… we’ve done it. Or, no, Henry did it. At the front of the room, he’s focused on the stage, not looking back once. When I shift my attention to the platform, Carrigan is still staring. Though he returns to scrolling on his phone when I meet his eyes.

James steps forward again and clears his throat.

“Finally, we have a grave announcement for you all. I admit that I’d hoped to open the meeting with this, but the Doctorate insisted that no part of the candidacy be interrupted for his sake.

” If the crowd was rapt before, now they’re ravenous.

They lean forward in their seats, licking and biting lips, nails digging into thighs.

They hang on James’s words, ready to rip into what’s said next.

“Our father, the sixth Doctorate, Cyrus Shaw, has passed.”

The room explodes into chaos. People burst into literal tears, crying out. Some fall to the floor sobbing. The whole room becomes a bleeding wound of weeping and screams.

“What the fuck?” I whisper.

Nothing could have prepared me for the sheer devoutness of these people. No wonder they believe in this apocalypse. They seem like they would believe anything the Doctorate told them. How did a group of people trying to cure a dangerous mutation become this?

James lets the people mourn, though he doesn’t cry himself. His face remains stoic, but there’s a sort of irritation to his expression. It’s the way the creases at the corners of his eyes crinkle and narrow. I notice Carrigan studying his brother.

“Silence,” Adam commands, raising his hands, and all at once, the crowd collects themselves. For some people, this means physically clasping their hands over their mouths.

James continues, “As you may be aware, our father has three living sons—myself, Adam, and Carrigan—who have inherited the Doctorate’s gift. It was our father’s wish that the choice for who among us shall lead you next be decided… democratically.”

“Holy shit,” Virgil breathes.

“Is it not usually democratic?” I whisper to him.

“We’ve never had multiple options for a Doctorate, period,” Virgil says. “Either they’ve only had one child per the rules of succession that Dr. Weiss set, or if they ended up with two, only one inherited the ability. We’d assumed that Cyrus would just appoint one of his sons.”

James says, “Everyone shall have the right to vote, from students, to monsters, to Bachelors and Masters. We will reconvene for the vote at the end of the fall term before the Bachelor candidacy initiation. Please be intimate in your grief and lean on your peers for support. As in everything, there is a learning in this.”

“There is a learning in all,” everyone says back. And it’s worse now, with most of the crowd overcome with tears and snotty noses.

But all I can think is that I got the nomination. And not because of me, I know, but because of Virgil. Because of these people around him willing to bet on me because he picked me.

I don’t care how I did it. All that matters is that I’m one step closer to finding Jules.