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Summer

T he following month seems to drag, but as we near the end, the weather improves, and with it, so do people’s moods. The workload has amped up for everyone, and most students have once again knuckled down. End-of-year exams are looming over us even though they are still months away.

There have been no more murders, and there is talk that the authorities are closing in on a potential suspect. While there is still an air of unease around campus, thanks to the gruesome deaths of the three fae females, the memory of the fear has blurred a little with time.

I swing for Max, my fist a blur. With every session, I find it easier and easier to relax into my fae instincts and powers. Not only am I getting better at fighting, but I’m also seeing some psychological benefits from it now.

Max barely dodges my strike. He throws a counter punch, his eyes glowing green. I slip out of reach and spin, slamming my fist into his side. There is a faint crunch as his ribs slam against each other, and he groans. I use the distraction to my advantage and take him to the ground. Max pants beneath me and taps the mat. I roll off him, immediately releasing him following his submission.

Max sits up, his hand over his ribs. “You know, you’re almost starting to impress me. Almost.”

I glance down at his tented shorts. “Yeah, I can see how impressed you are.”

Max flips me off. “Stop checking out my dick.”

“Stop pressing your boner against me,” I snap back.

Max snorts as he gets to his feet. “I think you have a phallic fixation.”

I stand and stretch my arms over my head. “I think you’re obsessed with me.” I bend in the middle, touching my toes.

“You know, you don’t have to fight with me,” he quips.

I straighten and grab my towel to wipe myself off. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe by then, you’ll be over this embarrassing obsession you have with me,” I taunt, taking a deep drink from my water bottle.

“You’re the one who’s obsessed,” Max says, throwing his gross, sweaty towel at me.

I bat it away. “Yeah, obsessed with getting away from you.”

Max snorts, and I laugh as I collect my things. As I leave the gym, my phone pings, and I pull it out of my bag.

Connor

Did you hear?

Summer

Hear what?

Connor

They caught them.

I stop dead, looking at my phone. I read his message over and over, my whole body paralyzed.

Connor

The authorities are about to hold a press conference.

I turn around and go back into the gym, looking for a remote control to change the television from some random celebrity workouts to the news.

“Max, how do I change the channel on this thing?”

Max grabs the remote control from behind the desk and hands it to me. I quickly flip through the channels until I see Chief Investigator Thomas Aquino on the screen. He’s standing behind a wooden podium in front of an official-looking building. Headmaster Emrys looms behind him, along with several other investigators. I focus in on the headmaster and notice that his jaw is tight and his eyes are blazing. This can’t be good.

“Following a lead from an anonymous source, a group of officers discovered a link between the victims.”

My heart thuds and I tighten my fingers around the remote control. I feel Max standing beside me with his arms crossed over his chest, his steady presence grounding me.

“Thanks to this source, we were able to target the suspect and apprehend him before he could harm anyone else.”

A picture flashes up on the screen, showing a nondescript male. He looks to be a little older than me, with red hair and dark eyes. His pointed ears give away his species immediately.

“Known as Eli Tuatha De Daanan, he began attending Avalon University this year. Through our investigation efforts, we discovered that he applied and gained entry using forged documents. His true identity is still unknown, but we will release more information as we work to close this investigation. Thank you.”

Thomas steps back from the podium, and the feed returns to the newscaster, who begins to discuss the press conference, but I hear nothing. My eyes remain fastened to the screen as a tear slides down my cheek. I start to tremble, and my knees feel weak. My lungs tighten until I can’t breathe.

“Summer?” I’m vaguely aware of Max touching my arm, but I don’t move. Another tear slides down my cheek, and soon they are flowing freely. My lungs burn with the need for air, but I can’t draw any in.

Max tugs at me, turning me away from the screen and enveloping me in strong, hard arms. His scent surrounds me. I silently sob into his chest, and he tightens his hold on me. I’ve never paid any attention to it before, but as I focus on the smell of pine, I can finally breathe.

“It’s over,” he says, rubbing my back. “You want me to call Connor?”

I shake my head, pulling back with a sense of overwhelming panic. “He can’t know about this.”

Max blinks, his muscular arms still wrapped around me. “I’m sure he knows about the killer getting caught.”

“He can’t know that I was the target.” My voice shakes as I say it.

Max stares at me. “I… What do you mean?”

The truth comes surging out of me. “The killer. They… He wanted me. He stole my clothes and put them on the victims and?—”

“And Connor doesn’t know?” Max interrupts, his brows drawing as he tries to understand.

I shake my head, looking up at him.

“Why?”

“He would have freaked out, Max,” I blurt out.

Max’s jaw clenches, and he stares at me. “I understand,” he says after a long minute.

I swallow, not expecting that. “Y-you do?”

“Yeah,” Max says, nodding.

I glance at the television again. Another news story is playing, but it barely registers. “Something about this feels off,” I murmur, my gut twisting with unease. Now that I’ve unburdened myself, unloading the lies, or at least some of them, I’ve freed up some space to think more clearly about the press conference.

“What do you mean?” Max asks.

I look back at him and shake my head. “Nothing. Thanks, Max.”

“No problem.” He lifts the bottom of his shirt and wipes the tears from my cheeks. I smile at him, and my phone pings again.

Alice

The headmaster is here. In our dorm.

“I have to go.”

Max wipes my face again. “Okay, you’re good.”

I smile at him and squeeze his arm before hurrying out of the gym. The conference plays on repeat in my head all the way back to Kelpie Hall. My mind doesn’t quiet until I burst through the door into our dorm and see the headmaster. I am surprised to see him sitting on our couch while Alice paces. Alice warned me he was here, but nothing could have prepared me to see him sitting in our space with a cup of what looks like the most awful coffee I’ve ever seen.

He stands the moment he sees me. “You heard the news,” he states.

It’s not a question, but I nod anyway, knowing my eyes are probably still red from crying. “Yes, sir.”

He gestures for me to sit, and I perch on the edge of one of the armchairs.

The headmaster sits down again. “They found your clothes, some of your trash, and photographs of you all over his room. He also had a manifesto that supposedly proves his guilt.” His lips flatten, and he looks down at his hands. “It seems it is over, tied up with a neat little bow.” I am not sure he is actually talking to me. It seems he is more just thinking out loud.

“Something feels off,” I say, watching his profile.

He meets my gaze, intrigue lighting his silver eyes. “Off?”

“I can’t explain it,” I say cautiously.

The headmaster rubs his hand over his jaw. “There was an incident this morning after the stand-off with Eli . The authorities claim it was accidental, but it doesn’t feel accidental to me.” He runs his hand over his eyes wearily. He seems exhausted, and I realize it is the first time I have seen him look… mortal. “A fae female was found at the bottom of the stairs in the astronomy tower. Her head was completely turned around, severing her spine. A beheading without cutting the skin.”

I swallow. “Did she… she look like me?”

He meets my gaze again. “Close enough. Though since it wasn’t a mutilation, the authorities have deemed it accidental.”

I feel the color drain from my face.

“It is just too convenient, in my opinion,” he says.

I nod in agreement.

“The authorities will be withdrawing from campus within the next fortnight.” He looks away, thinking. “Nothing about this sits right with me. This killer was far too careful. They were far too meticulous and clever to be caught on some simple forged documents.” He pauses for a moment, and I know he is deciding if he should tell me the next bit. “There is something missing from my vault. Something that was not found in his belongings, but the investigators are insisting I just misplaced it.”

“What is it?”

He sighs. “My father collected many mystical artifacts, intent on taking them out of circulation. He stored them in the school, and further creation of such items was outlawed. Someone has taken a single item from the entire vault.”

“Just one?” Alice asks, finally stopping her pacing.

He nods. “Just one. The Helm of Darkness. It makes the wearer completely undetectable.”

“Oh. I’ve read about that,” I say.

“It originally belonged to Hades, the Greek God of the Underworld. It was his before the gods left this world.”

“Why didn’t you destroy it?” Alice asks.

The headmaster scowls at her, obviously unhappy with the question. “It can only be destroyed by a god. Like most items in my vault.”

I glance at Alice, wondering if she’ll ever crack a textbook.

Alice rolls her eyes at me, and the headmaster rubs his jaw again. “I’ve moved my vault again, but the Helm is missing.”

“I’m assuming you’ve tried a tracking rune? What about an old fae rune to return a missing object to its owner?” I ask, the rune coming together in my mind’s eye.

He raises a brow and chuckles. “I see you’re coming for Mister Morningstar’s title of best student. But yes, I have tried everything.” He pins me with his piercing gaze. “There’s something else. The King of the Fae has reached out.”

I stiffen. I have heard stories of the tyrant fae king, and none of them are good.

“Eli was a noble. He’s coming to collect him. I recommend you are not on campus when he arrives.”

“Why?” I asked, confused.

“He is volatile and jealous. Given your… differences from other fae, I do not think it wise to allow him the chance to notice you.”

Well, when he put it like that, and with what I know of the king, I have to agree. “I can see about going to Eden or Dr?culea for the day.”

“He is coming tomorrow. I understand it is short notice.”

I look at Alice. “Al, is there a place we can go tomorrow with the guys? I don’t want any of you here.”

Alice nods. “We can take them to Dr?culea for the day. It’ll be fun.”

I grab my phone and open my messages with Connor.

Summer

Fun day out to Dr?culea tomorrow! Tell your brothers to be ready by 7.30.

Connor

Dr?culea?

Summer

Yes. Change of scenery.

Connor

Babe, what’s going on?

Summer

I want a day out, Con. And I want everyone there. Please?

I immediately feel guilty for snapping at him, but I need to know everyone is safe for the day.

Connor

Okay. I’ll get them together.

Summer

Thank you.

I exhale. “Okay, all sorted for tomorrow. We will be gone by 8 AM.”

The headmaster stands. “If for some reason you’re not gone by tomorrow morning or something happens that keeps you here, do not, under any circumstances, approach him.”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Tell no one where you are going.”

“Yes, sir.”

He looks between us. “Act normal tonight, like you believe Eli is the murderer, and this is over.”

I glance at Alice, and she meets my gaze before we both nod.

“The campus will be busy tonight. Take care.”

I clear my throat and stand up. “I’ll see you out, sir.” I walk him to the door and open it for him. “The fae king. He won’t hurt you, will he?”

The headmaster’s lips quirk at the corners. It is fleeting, but I catch it. “He could try.” With that arrogant statement, he leaves.

I pace the living room. Alice has gone to her room to watch her trashy show, and I keep stealing glances at my phone.

Don’t message him. Don’t message him. Don’t message him.

I curse and pick up my phone. Going to the stranger’s profile, I type out a message and then delete it. Then again. Then again. I do this ten times before finally finding the courage to press send.

The reply comes almost immediately.

The message hits me like a blow, but I can’t blame him.

I watch the screen, waiting for a response, but none comes. He doesn’t even appear to be typing. I’m not even sure he has read my last message. I place my phone back on the coffee table and stare at it, allowing myself one full minute to acknowledge the loneliness I’ve felt since our fight.