Page 15 of Beastkin
“I’m sure the professors know what they’re doing,” I said carefully.
“Do they?” Thomas leaned forward, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “Phoenix, I hope you understand the importance of maintaining... proper associations while we’re here. Our families’ reputations depend on it.”
The threat was subtle but unmistakable. I was being warned to stay away from whoever had caused such a stir in class today. The irony wasn’t lost on me, here I was, desperate to break free from my parents’ prejudices, only to find myself rooming with someone who would gladly serve as their spy.
“Of course,” I lied smoothly. “But you misunderstand me.”
Thomas scowled, the expression cold and calculating. “Do I?”
“I only meant that, for appearance sake, we need the professors tobelievethat they aren’t being surveyed. We want them to show their true colors.”
“Why would weencouragethem to continue this frankly disgusting behavior?” Thomas growled, scrunching up his nose in disgust.
“Because,” I insisted, leaning into the lie. “If we make them feel like they’re being watched, they’ll be careful. They’ll watch what they say.” I saw the realization dawning on his face as I dug myself deeper. “But this way we’ll know who’s actually on our side. Then we tell the right people and—” I snapped my fingers. “Problem solved.”
Thomas practically beamed at me, his beady little eyes full of hunger. “So, youareyour father’s son,” he nodded. “You had me worried for a moment.”
My insides squirmed. The last person I wanted to be like was my father. But I knew how he thought after years of careful tutoring and his rants after too many glasses of brandy in the evening.
“I just play my part well,” I replied, not letting my facade crack. “Something that maybe you should do as well.” I gave him a onceover, wrinkling my nose. “You reek of pretentiousness and Purity Front sentimentality. It’s going to get you in trouble.”
Thomas flinched at my sharp rebuke, the momentary superiority in his expression faltering.
“I assure you, my discretion is impeccable,” he said stiffly. “My family has been operating within these circles for generations.”
“And yet you’re asking obvious questions about a monster student in our shared dorm room,” I pointed out. “Walls have ears, Thomas. Always assume we’re being listened to.”
I was improvising wildly, pulling from memories of my father’s paranoid lectures, but Thomas seemed to buy it. He nodded gravely, looking properly chastised.
“You’re right, of course. Forgive my indiscretion.”
I waved a dismissive hand. “Just be more careful.”
As Thomas returned to his book, I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling. The lies I’d spun with Thomas made me nearly sick to my stomach, but I forced it all away. I’d learned a long time ago that living with these sorts of people required quick thinking and fake camaraderie if I wanted to avoid severe punishment. Better to pretend to be one of them than be the focus of their ire.
However, the moment my mind was off my parents’ world, all I could think of was that afternoon. The Beastkin’s reaction to me kept replaying in my mind. The hurt in his eyes when I didn’t recognize him, like I’d gone out of my way to cause him pain.
Laurent. The name tugged at something in my memory, like a word on the tip of my tongue. I closed my eyes, trying to remember where I might have heard it before. It was French of course, but beyond that, I couldn’t think of why I’d know it.
My dreams that night were strange and disjointed. Flashes of a forest I’d never seen, yet somehow knew intimately. Running through trees with someone by my side, laughter echoing around us. A warm summer day by a creek, small fires dancing in my palm while another boy, a Beastkin boy, watched with fascination rather than fear.
I woke with a start, my heart racing. The room was still dark, Thomas’s steady breathing from the other side telling me it was nowhere near morning. The pendant against my chest remained cool, meaning my parents weren’t checking in. Small mercies.
I sat up quietly, running a hand through my hair. These dreams felt more like memories, but that was impossible. My parents had never allowed me near Beastkin children. They’d made sure of that.
Unless...
A thought struck me so suddenly I nearly gasped aloud. Oregon, before we’d moved. There were several children I’d met there that weren’t witches. One of them, if I remembered correctly, was a Beastkin too. But could it be him? I searched my memory for a face, a voice, or even a fleeting moment of happiness. But all I could recall was my dream. And each time I tried to focus in on his face, my memory blurred like it was purposefully trying to stop me from seeing him.
Had my memory been modified?
It wasn’t impossible. Memory alteration was difficult magic, but my parents were exceptionally talented. If they’d discovered a friendship they disapproved of, they might have gone to extremes to erase it. Or at least try.
Laurent.
The name echoed in my mind again, and this time I let myself explore it. Had I known someone with that name? The Beastkin from earlier clearly expected me to recognize him. His hurt when I didn’t felt personal, like a betrayal.
I slipped out of bed and moved silently to the window, careful not to wake Thomas. The moon hung low in the sky, casting silver light across the campus grounds. In the distance, I could see the dark outline of the forest that surrounded Widdershins.