Page 7

SEVEN

Laima toed off her shoes and traded them for a pair of slippers. The rest of the castle might have under floor heating for the students, but her house had originally been the summerhouse, and the school's budget would never stretch to that sort of luxury for its headmistress. So slippers it was, for shuffling across the worn and broken tiles that were overdue for replacement fifty years ago, and would likely wait another fifty before a tiler darkened this doorway.

Mirror Academy and its students came first, as they always had. There were more and more scholarship girls these days, girls who had grown up in mundane families with no knowledge of their supernatural bloodlines, or the matches that awaited them in the supernatural community. Matches like the one that awaited that boy at the gate, whose fated mate was within the school walls even now.

Gone were the times when mated pairs were grateful for the matchmaking services the school provided, and they'd give the school generous donations at their mating ceremony. Now, even the regular contributions from the Lustro family were a thing of the past, as their line had died out, and the very lands beneath her feet had been sold to a bastard who carried neither the Lustro name nor their bloodline, however loudly he might claim otherwise.

But she would run this school until the walls crumbled around her, for what other purpose did she have in life?

Except for making the occasional cup of tea, of course, seeing as she no longer kept a cook in the house. Her meals were provided by the castle cafeteria, like everyone else's, but Laima would brew her own tisanes, as she always had.

Chamomile tonight, she decided, with a touch of lavender. Sleep did not come easily to her these days, with so many worries, and when it finally did come, it arrived loaded down with dreams of which matches must be made next. For fate had designs so intricate, woe unto the witch who dared to meddle with what she could not possibly comprehend.

Or eternal servitude, carrying out the fates' wishes, like Laima's punishment. Ah, she'd long since made peace with her fate, such as it was. There were plenty of perks to leaven the disadvantages.

She spooned flowers into the teapot, then filled the kettle and set it to boil. She'd have preferred to hang an iron kettle over a roaring fire, full of water fresh from the spring, but fireplaces were a luxury these days, and fresh spring water even more so, so the small electric device heated tap water instead. How times had changed.

The door flew open, hitting the stone wall with an audible crack.

Laima hoped there wasn't a real crack in the door – that would cost a pretty penny to repair. Or worse, replace.

She glared at the disadvantage now standing in her open doorway, letting in the cold night air. "What are you doing here?"

Craig Tremotino sauntered into her house, as though he had every right to be there. "Why, just checking on my favourite tenant, of course!" He hooked his leg around one of her kitchen chairs and dragged it out from under the table, then sat down on it. "And to tell you I've changed my mind about hosting your Fairytale Masquerade Ball."

Laima saw red. "Now, see here, you delusional little man. Mirror Academy has a lifetime lease on these buildings, and one of the lease conditions is that all formal balls must be held at your castle. If you so much as think of weaselling your way out of it...oh!"

The sound that came out of her mouth had a lot more vowels than it was supposed to, but what else did one say when one's slipper caught on the edge of a broken tile, catapulting one forward into a chair, before crashing down, chair and all, on the tiles at Tremotino's feet, with another crack that Laima knew meant something had indeed broken. Her hip, this time, she was sure of it.

Tremotino rose slowly, his expression morphing from thunderous to delighted as he reached his full height, towering over her as she lay on the floor. Oh, he was definitely enjoying this. He gave rabid curs a bad name.

"Shut up and listen, you old bitch. I'll still hold your ball, to the letter of the lease agreement, but my price has changed. This time, I want one of your girls to be mine for the night. A beautiful blonde, who will obey my every whim."

"None of my girls would soil themselves by allowing you to touch them," Laima spat. She wished she could spit in his face, but gravity was against her, so she spat on his boot instead.

The boot he raised, before bringing it down hard on her broken hip.

Laima let out a howl of agony.

"You will give me what I want, you old bitch, or I'll take one of your girls for myself, and you won't get her back. What do you think the police will say when a second girl goes missing, when they haven't found the first? You'll have to close your school, and what a shame that would be."

"You...wouldn't!" Laima panted, wishing she sounded more authoritative, but all that came out was a sort of pained whisper.

"Oh, there's very little I wouldn't do, but if you give me the girl I want for the night, and she's properly obedient, I'll give her back to you in the morning. Not before I've broken her in, of course. And she won't remember a thing." He ambled over to the spice rack and pulled out a bottle. "This will do nicely," he said as he tucked it into his pocket. "Don't forget. Your most beautiful blonde, to do whatever I want with. Or I'll break her more thoroughly than I've broken you, and the police will never find her." He sauntered out of the house, without even a backward glance.

The kettle bubbled fiercely, giving voice to Laima's fury, before the timer clicked off and the water simmered down.

Just as the pain began to ebb, and Laima's hip knitted itself back together.

She pushed the fallen chair upright, then used it to help her stand. A roaring fire would be really nice right now, or maybe just a hot bath to ease the stiffness. For Tremotino was right about one thing.

She was an old bitch, older than he could imagine, and he had no idea who he was messing with. Not to mention stealing potions from her...he would regret all of this, but his theft most of all.

Laima poured hot water into the tea pot, and clinked the lid closed. She'd best start running her bath while it brewed, so she could drink it while she soaked her old bones.

She knew exactly which girl to send to him at the ball. Only a fool thought he could master fate, and Tremotino was the biggest fool she'd ever met.

Mirror Academy had been schooling girls for centuries, and no young upstart boy was going to close it, Laima swore. Not as long as she drew breath.