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FELIX

The restricted section of the library holds texts that would make most professors at MistHallow blanch. Ancient grimoires bound in materials I don’t care to identify, scrolls written in blood, and tomes that whisper ominously when you pass too close. After hours of research, I’ve found exactly what I need for Luke’s potion, though the ingredients list makes me question my already murky moral compass.

“Blood of the sire,” I mutter, tracing the faded text with my finger. “Well, that’s sorted.” Luke had given me Lucius’s blood from this dimension—a neat little loophole in magickal metaphysics that would work just fine for our purposes. “Petal of the Midnight Bloom that grows only where realities bleed together... bark from the Whisper Oak at the forest’s heart... and sap of the Voidroot that feeds on dimensional rifts.”

I grimace at the list. This is going to require a very dodgy visit to the forest. It’s not going to like me intruding and stealing its nature one bit.

The text blurs before my eyes. I blink hard, attributing the effect to fatigue until I realise it’s not my vision at fault. The words are actually moving, the ink flowing like liquid across the page.

“What the...” I whisper, pulling back.

A tremor runs through the library, subtle but unmistakable. I close my eyes, extending my magickal awareness outward, feeling for the wards Luke and I constructed.

They’re vibrating, straining against some external pressure. They’re not breaking—our work was too thorough for that—but they’re definitely under attack. Magickal energy pulses against them in concentrated bursts, probing for weaknesses.

With a curse, I mark my place in the grimoire and slip it into the drawer of the desk I’m working at. The potion for Luke will have to wait. I need full focus, and this involves investigating what’s happening to our wards.

Leaving the restricted section with a pop of the wards, I make my way swiftly through the academy corridors, following the magickal disturbance to its source. It leads me toward the main gates, the focal point of our ward structure. As I approach, the magickal tension in the air becomes uneasy, crackling like static electricity against my skin.

There is a gathering at the gates. The pureblood parents, I presume.

Luke stands just inside the boundary, his posture rigid as he faces the small group with enough firepower to level a small building. They came prepared, but not enough.

Keeping to the shadows, I move closer, staying just within earshot. The confrontation is already underway, voices raised in controlled anger that barely masks centuries of political manoeuvring.

“This is unacceptable, Blackthorn,” a tall, imposing vampire says, his voice carrying clearly across the grounds. By his striking resemblance to Dante, I assume this is DuLoc senior. “You have no authority to prevent us from retrieving our children.”

“Actually, Mr DuLoc, as Headmaster of MistHallow, I have every authority to protect my students,” Luke replies, his tone measured but unyielding. “The academy recently suffered a serious breach of security. Until we’ve completed our investigation and ensured all threats have been neutralised, I cannot allow visitors to enter the grounds.”

“Visitors?” Another vampire snaps, his aristocratic features hardened with disdain. This must be Aragon senior, Gaida’s dad. “I am a founder of this institution, Blackthorn. These gates do not close to me.”

“They do today,” Luke states.

I edge closer, hiding behind a large oak tree. The wards between Luke and the assembled vampires shimmer faintly, visible only to those with magickal sight. They’re holding steadily as I expected they would.

A slight figure draped in midnight blue speaks. “Professor Blackthorn,” she says, her voice melodious but threaded with steel. “Surely you understand our concern. The bond severances spreading across Europe put our children at unique risk. As purebloods, they are targets.”

“I’m well aware of the situation,” Luke acknowledges. “However, I assure you that your children are safer within MistHallow’s wards than anywhere else. Our security measures have been enhanced since the breach.”

“Enhanced by whom?” Aragon demands. “These wards are based on Founder’s blood.”

“Not anymore.” Luke’s tone has gone dark. Scarily dark. It makes Aragon cautious. I can see it in the way his stance shifts. “The wards have been reinforced by myself and our most talented magickal practitioner. They will hold against any threat, including your current attempts to dismantle them.”

I beam inwardly. Most talented, eh? It’s nice to know what he says about me when I’m not around. Makes a change from being insulted.

“This is absurd!” DuLoc exclaims. “We demand to see our children immediately.”

“Your children are adults, Mr DuLoc,” Luke reminds him. “They are students at an institute of higher learning. If they wish to speak with you, they are free to do so.”

“Then produce them,” Aragon challenges.

Luke looks undisturbed by the demand. “I will inform them of your presence and your request. The choice to meet with you will be theirs.”

“This is unacceptable, Blackthorn. You will feel the wrath of the DuLoc family when the funding is pulled from this institution.”

“Be that as it may, you still aren’t stepping over the threshold. The threat of the Equilibrium is far greater than that of the ferals. As I’m sure you are aware.” Luke lets that hang there, and it gets their attention. They shift uncomfortably, and I roll my eyes. “Seeing as we were attacked by this group of vampires who somehow miraculously found their way inside the protected boundary line, you will understand and accept my methods of keeping your children and others safe from outside harm. The ferals are well contained. You don’t need to fear them from the inside.”

I stagger suddenly. A dimensional ripple passes through the grounds, causing the air to shimmer. For a brief moment, I see not one MistHallow gate but several, overlapping. Different versions of the same location across various dimensions, bleeding into one another. This one is much darker than the one I’m standing in.

“Inform our children immediately that we are here to take them home,” DuLoc grits out.

I find it telling that Araogn has gone quiet.

“Actually,” I say, moving out from behind the tree, deciding it’s time to intervene before things escalate further, “I can deliver that message.”

All eyes turn to me, the vampires assessing my worth with the cold calculation of predators. Luke’s expression reveals nothing, but I catch the tiny flicker of warning in his eyes.

“Mr Davenport,” he acknowledges.

“I felt the disturbance in the wards, Professor,” I explain, moving to stand beside him, letting my dark magick crackle innocently at my fingertips. All eyes go straight to it, as I’d hoped. “Thought you might need assistance.”

“Ah, the ward specialist,” DuLoc sneers, his gaze sharpening. “Your work is impressive for one so young.”

“Age makes no difference. When you have power, you have it.”

His gaze hardens.

“Mr Davenport,” Luke says, “would you be so kind as to locate Miss Aragon and Mr DuLoc? Inform them their parents wish to speak with them.”

“Of course.” I turn to the assembled elders. “I’ll find them and pass on the message when I do.”

It’s a transparent excuse, but it buys time.

“See that you find them quickly,” Aragon says coldly.

Giving him a cold smile, I walk away and extend my magickal awareness backwards, monitoring the situation at the gates. The tension hasn’t dissipated, but it has stabilised. The immediate threat of confrontation has passed, for now.

Once out of sight, I veer off the path toward the library. I need to finish Luke’s potion before the situation deteriorates further.

A tremor passes through the library as I enter, stronger than the ones before. The dimensional barriers are weakening. Reality shifts around me. For a brief, disorienting moment, I see another version of the library overlaid on this one. Again, it’s darker and more foreboding, with symbols carved into the stone walls that make my eyes hurt to look at them.

Then it snaps back, but the experience leaves me curious, which is never a good thing.

I return to the grimoire and snatch up the list of ingredients. I’ll have to hit the forest at midnight to catch some of them at the best time. It is also a convenient excuse for me to be out of the range of the vampires once their offspring don’t go looking for them.

Slipping out of the library doors, I head towards the forest to the back of the academy grounds and step through the wards with a pop loud enough to alert anyone paying close enough attention. Luckily for me, everyone is too preoccupied with the various shitstorms hitting the academy to notice.