Chapter 7
1840 Words
Elijah blows out a breath. “So, she’s got some kind of higher calling?”
“Precisely.” Mrs. Humphrey raises a petite hand, motioning toward a chair. “Come. Sit, please.”
“I still don’t understand how she could favor me.” I sink into the plush armchair on the opposite side of the headmistress’s desk. “There’s literally nothing special about me. I suck at school. I don’t have friends. Luca, he marked me and now everyone thinks—” I hesitate, remembering where I am and in whose company I am. I doubt anyone here will appreciate me implying that they’re freaks.
My gaze bounces to Elijah. He appears to be decent. I’m not sure how I feel about the high priestess yet.
I redirect my attention to the lady in question. “People back home aren’t exactly fond of werewolves. My parents—people at school used to tell me scary stories about your kind.”
Mrs. Humphrey lowers herself into a chair behind her desk. “Your kind?” She arches a brow. “Don’t you mean our kind? You’re one of us now, dear.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “It all feels so surreal.”
“I understand; I’ve been through it myself.” She gestures toward Elijah. “Unlike him, who was born into this world, I was an outsider, like you. I grew up in a quaint little neighborhood with strict, religious human parents. They believed I was a demon spawn—a punishment for their sins. Eventually, they kicked me out of the only home I had ever known. I remember it as if it were yesterday. But, despite it all, this world has turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me.”
I swallow the lump stuck inside my throat. Look, my parents aren’t great, but they are still my family. They are all I have. Drunks or not. “It’s—how do I forget them?”
Mrs. Humphrey reaches across her desk and takes hold of my hand, squeezing it. I shudder. Her skin is like ice. “Dear, as impossible as it seems, you will. They are nothing other than negligent if they can throw you away like that.” It almost sounds like she’s saying it more for her own benefit than mine, making me wonder if it’s sincere. She pats my hand and offers a gentle smile before straightening up in her seat. “I’m aware of what the outside world thinks of us. They believe us to be beasts. Cruel, bloodthirsty murderers. I promise you, child, we are anything but.”
Elijah shifts beside me, giving off the impression that he wants to add to the conversation but decides against it.
“Like humans, we have those among us who drift from our morals and do appalling things. We stand out compared to them. Thus, they naturally turn all the negative attention to us instead of seeing their own as capable of abominable doings. It’s in a human’s nature to want to be faultless and to turn a blind eye to what is true.”
I nod, crossing my legs.
“Tell me, girl, what’s the worst thing you have ever done?”
“Does it matter?” I falter.
There’s a gleam in Mrs. Humphrey’s eyes. “Yes, it does. Now, share with me what is the worst thing you’ve ever done in your life?”
My eyes narrow as I consider her question. “I’m… not sure. I haven’t done many bad things. None that I can think of.”
“It doesn’t matter how many. I simply want to know what the worst thing you are capable of is.”
I lift my eyes to meet hers, cringing. “I stole a doll from a thrift store.”
“Why?” Mrs. Humphrey presses on, folding her fingers together on her desk.
I fluster. “My parents refused to buy me dolls because they believed it was a waste of money. I never had any, and I always watched the girls at school having so much fun and bragging about how they got the newest Sally Beach doll—”
Elijah squints at me, his eyes lit with a twinkle of amusement.
I scowl at him. “I was seven, okay?”
“And?” Mrs. Humphrey prompts, ignoring Elijah.
“Anyway, I wanted to play with them. I wanted friends, too. I wanted to belong.”
“I see.” Her lips purse. “Do you want to know what the worst thing is that I’ve ever done?”
“Not sure if that’s going to make a difference.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Her full attention is on me. “You see, I burned down a tree.”
I blink. “Okay?”
“The point is, both our worst qualities are trivial compared to what others are capable of.” She shifts. “You’ve heard of the White Valley serial killer?”
“It was all over the news.”
“The killer is human.” She directs a hand at me. “And look at you. Look at me, and the worst things we’ve done. We, the ones deemed monsters by the people out there.”
“Right.” I shift under her sharp gaze.
“I want you to understand that our kind are not the villains you were led to believe,” she informs. “My words are worthless, though, as I know it has been ingrained in your mind since birth. The best I can offer you is to prove it to you. Once you live in our world, with time, you’ll see it’s nothing like you expect. From personal experience, I know you will grow to love this place. You’ll make friends and form everlasting bonds.”
It feels like she’s making a sales pitch. “What if I don’t want to stay?”
“It’s up to you, dear. But it would be against the huntress’s wishes if you did. I have no doubt she would punish you for it as well.”
I swallow.
“Understand that I’m not trying to scare you, but—you do not vex the likes of our gracious huntress. I know she has great plans for you.”
Mrs. Humphrey dismisses Elijah once the girl’s dormitory matron shows up. Mrs. June is as sweet as she is old—and the polar opposite of Mrs. Humphrey. June, as she prefers to be addressed, is a plump, short lady with unruly hair and mismatched clothing. She doesn’t fall over herself to flatter Mrs. Humphrey or bow to her every whim.
When Mrs. Humphrey insists that June deliver her some tea, June refuses. She voices that she’s here to help me settle, not to be the headmistress’s maid. I cover my mouth to hide my smile. For a moment, a sense of belonging washes over me. It is brief—enough to make me think there’s a chance this situation isn’t as rotten.
But not enough to prevent me from shedding the trepidation pooling inside my belly. I sit in a corner, observing the two women setting up an altar dedicated to the huntress Diana.
When they’re done, June ushers me toward the altar and instructs me to take off my jacket. “It’s cold in here,” I shiver, rubbing my arms.
June places a hand on my shoulder. “No worries, child, this should be quick. You’re going to love the girls’ dorm. There’s a snug fireplace in the common room, and each room has a heater installed.”
“It was an expensive addition to the school, but nonetheless worth it,” Mrs. Humphrey declares. “It gets cold here in the evenings. But what also makes me feel warm is a nice cup of tea.” She throws June a pointed look.
June rolls her eyes. “Are we going to do this, or are you going to wait for this poor thing to freeze?”
I bite back a smile. Mrs. Humphrey gets to work, her lips drawn tight. She chants under her breath in a language I don’t understand while drawing symbols on my neck, using her finger that she dipped into a brown, ashy substance.
Then, she picks up a small crystal bowl filled with crushed herbs and sprinkles the mixture across my skin.
A warm, tingling sensation forms wherever they touch. I glance at June, who holds a candle in her hand with her eyes closed. Her lips move feverishly along with Mrs. Humphrey’s, but her voice isn’t audible.
My focus bounces back to the headmistress. She has turned and is drawing a circle on the floor in front of me with white chalk.
Once her chanting stops, her eyes settle on me. “Say the recruiter’s name, dear.”
“Luca?” I test and gasp as a figure pops out of thin air right in the middle of the circle. “Holy crap.”
June snorts. “Crap is certainly not holy, child.”
“What. The. Hell?” Luca is wearing pajama pants with a bunch of snoozing porcupines printed on them and a shirt of some metal band—barefoot. His hair is more disheveled than I have ever seen it before. It is obvious he has been sleeping. He spins around to find me gaping at him. “Are you serious right now?”
“Don’t blame me. You’re the one who left me hanging.” My fists tighten at my sides. “They’re trying to help me, unlike you.”
Luca’s eyes narrow when he notices Mrs. Humphrey. “We meet again, old hag.”
Mrs. Humphrey blanches. “Get the guardians. Now!”
My eyes widen as June bolts out of the room, looking flustered. My gaze flicks to the headmistress. “Did I miss something here?”
“Lucian Crowe.” Mrs. Humphrey whispers the name like a curse, her face turning a bruised red. “How did you do it?”
“Like you all do. The huntress came to me and told me to mark her.” Luca—or Lucian, as Mrs. Humphrey referred to him—smirks. “I didn’t think it would be such a big deal.”
“Deceiver. Once you’re exiled, you can’t get in touch with the spiritual realm,” Mrs. Humphrey spits out. “I’m asking you once more, how did you do it?”
“Exiled?” My brows knit together.
“Let’s just say I got screwed over and kicked from the werewolf club.” Luca eyes me, a bitter smirk on his face. “But the huntress still deemed me worthy enough to mark someone as valuable as you.”
“How am I valuable?”
“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.” He pins his forest-green gaze on Mrs. Humphrey, then offers her a chilling smile.
- Writer
