Page 23 of Lost and Bound

Then, like before, a red coat inserts himself. “Let’s not waste resources, especially in this age of sustainability. We’ll take her off your hands.”

A wave of laughter follows, and the two golden coats swing their focus to him. They study him, both tipping their heads to the same side, the same damn angle as they consider what he said, as something like agreement is mirrored across their pretty faces. “For the right price, that could work.”

The red coat smiles, and I get a visceral reminder of what the red symbolizes. Although considering I’ve only seen one other vampire before and that was super briefly, I might be wrong on the type of supe he is. But the fangs and the way he’s eyeing me like I’m a meal are pretty obvious too.

“You’re not worried about catching something from her?” the female golden coat croons.

I still can’t figure out what species she and her friend are, though to be honest, no one’s given me a list of supernaturals that actually exist in the world, and I’m basing my knowledge on paranormal romance books.

“You know our kind doesn’t get sick, Seraphina. Or did you miss that in class because you were too busy trying to stop your halo from slipping right off?”

The reference to her halo makes my eyes jump to the spot above her head where you see all the cartoon halos hovering. There’s nothing there. My gaze drops to her shoulders, where a lack of wings makes me wonder if I heard wrong. But given the glow, which is decidedly heavenly, and her tinkling voice, I’m still leaning toward her being an angel.

A flood of adrenaline pulls my focus from what’s happening around me. My body’s reaction is slow, or maybe the reality of being in the presence of an actual angelic being defies belief.

My reaction doesn’t go unnoticed, with the guy in red lifting his head and scenting the air. His smile widens, making more of his fangs show, as his eyes turn to me. “Yes, we’ll take her. Let me know how much.”

Instead of calming down, as you should in the face of a predator, my pulse speeds up. My dad always said I have a flair for impulsiveness when I’m feeling cornered, and I prove him right.

“I’m not for sale.” My voice carries from one end of the hallway to the other, pulling students from their classrooms.

But it also brings our standoff to the notice of the teachers. Which, in theory, should be a good thing, since they’re the ones who could restore peace, but their disinterest as they take in the situation suggests they won’t do a thing to help. Still, I take the interruption their presence brings as an opportunity to race into the right room.

Thankfully, the goldens and the guy in red don’t share this class with me. It’s a wash of purple, except for the other Noms scattered through the room.

Waiting in front of the class, standing behind a heavy wooden table, is a cloaked man. He waves his hand impatiently, and the chatter cuts off. Actually, all noise from the hallway cuts off too.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Ms. Ellis. Given it is your first day with me, I’ll let you off with a warning that I do not tolerate tardiness. And I would have thought you’d be the first in today, or do you already have a firm understanding of witchcraft fundamentals?”

“Sorry, sir,” I offer quickly, keeping my eyes down.

I don’t see his expression, but I feel his irritation from across the room. I also feel something else, like the thick air in a steam room surging down my throat. A sudden coughing attack has me turning slightly and holding my hand in front of my mouth, hoping not to make a sound.

“Perhaps you would like to introduce yourself, since you’re so keen on interrupting our session.”

I shrink in my seat and blush a deep scarlet. Even my ears feel like they are burning, and the sensation only gets worse when everyone twists in their seats to witness my discomfort for themselves.

“No…” I try to say. My lips move, but no sound comes out.

The professor is expecting an answer, which I’m unable to give him. I point at my throat, and his expression gets even colder. “Cat got your tongue?”

Jesus, can this day get any worse?

The sad answer is yes.

Magikster Ballin makes a complete mockery of me not being able to answer by assigning a week of detention for my supposed insubordination. The task of cleaning the magik’s laboratories is now mine. Somewhat harsh, but I get the sense he’s one of those who likes to make examples of others at any chance he gets.

Today’s lesson content for his Fundamentals to Witchcraft quickly conjures the same feeling of instant dislike that Magikster Ballin evokes. His lesson is loaded with symbols and chemical equations that read like hieroglyphics before he hands out a four-page quiz that has to be submitted to his office before lessons end on Friday.

Then he waits until I’m looking at him, so I can’t miss the malicious grin on his face. With a slightly dramatic flick of his hand, he dresses me down loud enough so the students in the hallway can hear about how I have no defense mechanisms in place. Supposedly, mentally shielding yourself is something every person in the paranormal world knows how to do. Apparently, it’s as easy as learning to walk—I get the message. Then, as his hand swirls, the humid air I’ve been breathing since I walked in and couldn’t talk, disperses. Even without trying, I know my voice is back.

I’m one of the last to leave, only because I sat at the back of the class. I keep my chin up and say thank you as I leave. My parents’ strong upbringing is the only reason.

The hallway is filling with students as other classes in the building finish, but it’s empty of antagonists, which is a relief. Moving out of the path of other students walking to their next class, I unfold my timetable and check the room and floor for Pack Politics. I guess I’m about to get my introduction to the shifter side of things. After lunch, it’s going to be vampires, celestials, and demons, finishing up with gym class. The schedule at Thales is brutal, and the homework keeps piling up, making me question how I’m going to make it to the end of the week.

Thankfully, I’m not the last one into Pack Politics, but while everyone takes a seat, I wait at the front to introduce myself to the teacher. He’s one of the biggest men I’ve ever seen. His shoulders are broad, but because of his height, everything is in proportion, and it’s pretty clear he works out. While he ignores me, I study his face, but given his lack of wrinkles or gray hairs, it’s hard to judge his age.

When he finally raises his head and glances at me, I’m nearly floored by the power I see in his eyes. It’s impossible to miss.