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Chapter Fifty-Four

B riony

With Blaze hanging out in the forest and not locked up in my room, there’s no reason to hurry off after dinner, so I go with Fly and Clare back to her room to hang out.

“There’s so much to talk about,” Clare says as we drop down onto her floor and I rip open the box of chocolates the Princes gave me, staring down at them in disbelief.

“They’re so beautiful,” I say. “I think they may be too pretty to eat.”

“Fuck that,” Fly says, dipping his fingers into the box, plucking out one of the carefully decorated chocolates and plopping it straight into his waiting mouth. “Oh my goodness, forget magic, these would be enough to heal you!” He closes his eyes and groans.

Clare and I look at each other, then follow suit.

The chocolate melts across my tongue immediately and Fly is right.

It’s one of the best things I’ve tasted in my entire life.

Chocolate was a rarity back in Slate and the one time I got to try it, the chocolate was powdery and hardly very sweet.

This is like a taste explosion – like a freaking orgasm – in my mouth.

“I think it may be worth nearly being beaten to death just to have a box of these,” I say, rolling down to lie on the carpet and savor the flavors dancing around my mouth. “So,” I glance up at Clare, “how’s things going with Damian?”

“Okay … I think.”

“More than okay,” Fly says, picking another chocolate from the box, “they spent yesterday evening sucking each other’s faces off.”

Clare’s face turns bright red, but she also smiles shyly. “We did. It was the best.” Her eyes go a little dreamy, then she snaps out of it. “I hope you don’t think that was really bad of me when you were recovering in a hospital bed.”

“I told her it was really truly awful,” Fly says sarcastically, “that a true friend would have spent the night lighting candles and holding a vigil.”

“Stop picking on Clare,” I tell him, “or I won’t let you eat any more of my chocolates.”

“Clare,” he says, fluttering his eyelashes, “I’m truly sorry.”

“But maybe it was a bit insensitive of me.”

“Nope, that makes me really happy to know things are happening between you.”

“How much exactly is happening between you?” Fly asks, waggling his eyebrows.

“Just a bit of kissing so far. Although he did slide his hand up into my shirt.”

“Erotic,” Fly mumbles .

“Ignore him,” I tell Clare. “He doesn’t own a pair of tits so he has no idea how good that feels.”

“It did feel good,” she says, nibbling her lip. “We’re going to spend Sunday hanging out together … if the two of you don’t mind.”

“Briony’s been ditching us regularly for the last few weeks. Of course she doesn’t.”

“Of course I don’t.” I hold the box of chocolates out to Clare and she takes another.

“I do have another piece of news that may make up for my poor behavior.”

“Ooo,” I say, rolling up and selecting another chocolate for myself. “What is it? Has Fly been sucking people’s faces off too?”

“I wish!”

“Nope, it’s about your sister. I think I found something of interest in the second yearbook. Have you asked the Princes about those names yet?”

I shake my head, then place the chocolate into my mouth and chomp through it with my teeth. “What did you find out?”

“It seems it wasn’t Professor Tudor teaching the fundamentals of shadow weaving back then.”

“Yeah, he said he wasn’t here when she was. He must have joined the teaching staff afterwards.” I wonder what that means – when did he become a vampire? Was it at the academy? Or afterwards?

I’m half tempted to return to the library and find his yearbooks just so I can discover every little piece of information about him too.

But Fox Tudor isn’t what I should be focusing on right now – even if my head is still spinning with that revelation.

“Exactly. It was a teacher called Professor Turmeric. And I think something must have happened in one of the lessons your sister had with him.”

“What?” I ask, sitting up a little straighter. “What happened?”

“Ahhh,” Clare says, “that’s the thing. The information has been scrubbed out of the book.”

“Scrubbed out how exactly?” Fly says.

Clare scrambles across the floor on her knees, then pulls the book from under her bed and flips to the right page. She turns the book around so I can read, and Fly peers over my shoulder.

12th March – Turmeric lesson. Students were instructed to search for shadow weaving magic in their veins. They were encouraged to let any such magic flow through to their fingertips. The existing identified shadow weavers performed this easily. The commoners were unsuccessful …

Several sentences follow but they have been scrubbed out by dark black ink.

“I’ve tried the usual tricks – holding the paper up to the light, making an impression of the page. I can’t work out what’s written underneath. But … maybe someone with magic could.”

“I don’t understand. These books hadn’t been read for years – it was clear no one had been in that section of the library for years.”

“Then they must have scrubbed this from the book almost as soon as it was written,” Fly suggests. “I wonder what it said.”

“I’m going to find out.” I grip the page and rip it from the book.

Clare squeals, her hands rushing to her face. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“It’s easier than lugging that book around. ”

“But the library is going to hate you even more than she already does.”

“What you just said made no sense at all!” Fly says.

I fold the page up and stuff it in my pocket. I have a good idea who can help me with this. I’m tempted to go see him right now, but I promised I’d hang out with my friends tonight.

“So,” I say, passing around the chocolates again because I’m not sure how my friends are going to handle the next piece of news, “I have news of my own.”

“More news?” Fly says, rolling his eyes. “Nearly being murdered and then getting the academy’s worst bully expelled not enough for you?”

“I still can’t believe they expelled her!” Clare says, shaking her head.

“Well, this might be even more shocking,” I warn them. I inhale. Then exhale. “Professor Tudor is a vampire.”

“Ahhh,” Clare says, “that makes sense.”

“It does?” I say, confused. That was … not the reaction I was expecting.

“Yes,” Clare says, “totally makes sense.”

I turn to Fly who seems more interested in his next chocolate than this piece of news. “You’re not shocked either?” I ask.

“He’s a shadow weaver. They are all peculiar in their own way. And Clare’s right – now you’ve said it, it’s really damn obvious. Pale skin, glowing eyes, loves to hang out in the dark.”

“I guess … I didn’t even know vampires existed.”

“They aren’t exactly the most well-loved of the different types of shadow weavers,” Fly says.

“On account of their feeding habits.” Clare licks at her fingertips. “But they have been highly restricted and regulated for the last couple of centuries.”

“What does that mean?”

“They can’t go around draining people of their blood,” Fly explains.

“There’s more,” I say. “I was right about Fox – I mean Professor Tudor not being born a shadow weaver–”

“But you just said.”

“He was turned into a vampire by another vampire.”

This news does seem to shock my friends – and I haven’t even gotten to the truly shocking part yet.

“Shit … I didn’t know that was possible,” Fly says, pushing a chocolate around his mouth – first one cheek bulging, then the other. “They kept that quiet.”

“Understandable,” Clare says, adjusting her glasses.

“Why?” I say.

“Because if there’s a way to be turned into a shadow weaver, don’t you think every commoner in this academy would take it?”

“Fox didn’t seem so happy about his life choices.”

“That’s because he’s chosen to be a teacher – and that has to suck,” Fly says. “Especially when he could be living it up in Onyx Quarter.”

“I’m not sure that’s the reason,” I say, remembering the bitterness in his voice.

“Did he say who turned him?” Clare asks.

I shake my head. That wasn’t a question I thought about asking and yet now it seems obvious. Especially as he made it sound like he was seduced.

Jealousy prickles in my stomach and I peer down to stare at it.

I need to tell my friends the last piece of news. The truly unreal piece. I’ve kept many secrets in my time. But this one is burning way too big a hole in my pocket.

“There’s more.”

Fly rubs his hands together. “Oh good, this keeps getting more and more juicy.”

I lift my gaze.

“Professor Tudor says he has feelings for me.”

Both my friends are speechless. In fact, Fly goes and chokes on the remainder of his chocolate. He coughs and splutters and Clare is forced to slap him on the back.

“I’m sorry,” Fly says, blinking, tears sliding down his cheeks, “I thought you just said Professor Tudor has feelings for you.”

“He does. At least, that’s what he says.”

“Feelings of annoyance or irritability?” Fly asks.

“Err, no,” I say, my cheeks probably glowing as vividly as Clare’s were earlier.

“Romantic feelings?” Clare says in awe.

I nod.

“Wow,” Fly says silently, “just wow.”

“Yeah, exactly,” I say. “I told you he nearly kissed me,” I point out to Fly.

“Yeah, but I didn’t really believe you! Do you have feelings for him too?”

“She’s dating the Princes,” Clare points out, observing me from behind her glasses. “Oh my gosh! Do you?”

Fly swings his laser gaze my way.

“Maybe?” I say in a teeny tiny voice. “Not that I’ve told him.”

“Shit!” Fly says. “But where does that leave you and the Princes?” Alarm rushes into his eyes. “Do they know about this?”

“I have feelings for the Princes too,” I say, laying it all out on the table. “Crazy, weird but very hot feelings for all of them. Which is just insanely right and seriously fucked up. I’m fucked up,” I say pointing to myself.

“You’re not fucked up, Cupcake.” Fly rolls his eyes. “All those dudes are incredibly hot – including Professor Gloom and Doom. Any functioning human being in possession of their right mind would find them irresistible – especially if they were all professing undying love to you.”

“They’re not professing anything like that,” I mutter, although telling me I’m their fated mate must count for something.

“Okay, maybe not love. But they all want to fling you over their incredibly broad shoulders and whisk you off to bed.”

“Blimey,” Clare sighs, “have they actually done that to you?”

“No,” I say.

“Ahem,” Fly jabs his finger at me, “I saw them carrying you around the assault course this afternoon.”

“Yeah, but what am I going to do about it?”

“About four hot dudes wanting you. Hmm,” Fly taps his finger against his mouth, “let me think.”

“I’m serious. I need some advice guys.”

“I’d start by talking to them about all this,” Clare suggests.

“Boring!” Fly says.

“But practical.” Clare slides her glasses up her nose and gives Fly a look that reminds me so much of a teacher I think I almost see a glimpse of Clare’s future.

“Okay,” I say, squaring my shoulders. “Talk to them. I can do that.”

After all, how hard can it be?