Page 5 of Dark Embers

I clapped excitedly. “Yay! Thank you so much! I’ll come back right after my last class!”

*?*?*

The rest of my classes had gone about as expected. I’d been quite anxious in Transformation, doing my best to ignore Adina, Cora, and Letti. It was hard at first. Kind of like when you pass a gruesome accident on the road. You don’t actually want to look, and you try not to, but morbid curiosity tempts you to look.

It was like that for most of the period, but finally by the end of it, I truly felt content to mind my own business and stop caring ifthey were looking at me or what they were doing, at all.

Stupid teen angst.

In Defense class, it was easier to forget about Adina. There, I had my real friends to distract me, as well as a drive to gain more fighting skills.

It wasn’t so easy for Tobias, however—I kept catching him glaring in her direction. A few times, I thought he might approach her, and part of me was tempted not to intervene if he did. I would’ve loved to have seen him unleash his dragon on her, if he could do it without getting in trouble. But he did a good job of keeping his emotions in check. Of course, he did. He was Tobias.

I avidly avoided the Simulation Room. I couldn’t even make myself look that way, and there was absolutely no temptation to do so. The nightmare of what happened was still too fresh, too raw. I knew that, someday, I’d have to train in there for real. But I wouldn’t go until I was absolutely certain that I could win.

When the final bell rang for the day, I couldn’t get out of the gym quickly enough. I was eager to get away from those traumatic memories and to have my interview with Mrs. Sharp.

And I still had to get ready for my date with Tobias!

Nope, couldn’t think about that right now.Focus on your interview questions!

As I rushed across the lawn toward the pie-slice-shaped building, I studied the list of questions I’d made throughout the day on the Notes app of my tablet. I chewed my lip, hoping what I’d come up with would be enough to cover all the information I needed.

Was there anything important I was forgetting? Hopefully, Mrs.Sharp wouldn’t mind a second session if I thought of more questions.

When I entered her classroom, she was sitting at her desk, tapping away at her tablet. Setting up next week’s PowerPoint, perhaps?

“Hi, Mrs. Sharp,” I hedged softly, announcing my presence.

“Oh, Arya. There you are. Please, have a seat.” Smiling that same motherly smile that always comforted me, she gestured toward the rows of empty desks.

I picked the closest one to hers and sat down, setting my tablet on the surface in preparation to add her responses under each question.

She rose from her rolling office chair and perched on the edge of her desk, folding her hands on her lap. Her posture looked stiff, her expression open but uncertain. Though she was a teacher, she clearly wasn’t the type to like being in the spotlight, and this scenario obviously made her uncomfortable. I hoped that once I got her talking, she would relax.

I looked down at my screen and scanned for my first question.

“So, um, I guess my first question is, how did you and Mr. Sharp meet?”

She looked down at her lap, where her fingers were fidgeting with each other. “Well, let’s see, it was thirteen years ago. At the time, I was doing a rotation in a veterinary clinic as part of my graduate program—I was working toward a Master’s degree in Biology.

“One night, I was assigned to stay late and close the office, and right after I locked the lobby door, there were several bangs on the door from outside. I was instantly startled. Our clinic hadexperienced theft before, addicts raiding our medical supplies, so I was afraid that was what was happening. I scrambled to get my phone, but before I could dial the police, a man’s voice called from outside, saying he needed help.”

She paused momentarily, her right hand reaching up to stroke a charm hanging from a delicate chain around her neck. Though her lips didn’t curve, there was a sad smile in her brown eyes, her gaze distant as if lost in the memory.

“His voice sounded so hoarse, so pleading,” she continued softly. “I felt compelled to help him. So, I opened the door, and as he’d been leaning his weight against it, he fell into the clinic. I hefted him to his feet, and when I noticed that his shirt was soaked with blood and that he was favoring his left side, I rushed him to an operating table in the back.

“He told me he’d been shot and that he couldn’t go to a hospital. He begged me to help him, but I’d already decided that I would. No matter their circumstances, I couldn’t turn away anyone in such dire medical need. But, I realize now that I felt especially compelled to helphim.”

I quickly typed down everything she was saying, not knowing which bits would prove important later, and it was hard to keep up with her.

“It took some doing, but I managed to remove the bullet. The flesh of the wound was odd, like nothing I’d seen up to that point. It was like it was simultaneously festering and burning, with fine lines of blue webbing out from it.”

She shook her head, her brow creased, and I noticed my expression was mimicking hers. What kind of bullet would do that?

“The whole time I worked on him, he stared at my face. I keptthinking that I should feel awkward, but I didn’t. His stare felt comforting, meaningful in a strange way. Safe…

“When I had finished stitching the wound, he told me everything. He said that he was a bear shifter, that he had been shot by hunters who had tracked him down, and that the bullet I’d dug out was silver. He explained that silver was poisonous to his kind. That was why he couldn’t go to the hospital. Not only would they ask too many questions, but the hunters would find him.

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