Page 45 of Architecti
She scoffs.“I’m nearly thirty.”
I roll my eyes.“And I’m forty.”
“That didn’t seem to bother you last night…”
My cheeks flame crimson.It makes the corner of her mouth twitch.
She stands straighter, her expression turning serious.“If you think avoiding telling me what happened to you means I’ll drop it, you’re sorely mistaken.You avoiding the question means it wasn’t an accident.”
She moves so close to me I have to take a step back.I hit the wall.
“Midnight,” I hiss.
“We’re both consenting adults,Lucy.”She exaggerates my name all sultry and alluring as if that means I can do anything about it.
“It doesn’t matter.Not here.I wasn’t joking when I said student-professor relations aren’t allowed.I’d get the sack.I’d lose my tenure.”
“You’re prevaricating.Tell me who hurt you…”
She pulls me by the chin to face her, then leans down as if she’s going to brush her lips over mine.I place my hands on her chest and push.
Professor Alistair Ironheart steps into view.His eyes slide down to where my hands are outstretched.His laser focus is so acute it makes me flinch.
He swings his gaze between us.“Everything okay, Professor C?—?”
“Yes, thank you, Alistair.I know Midnight, outside of the Academy,” I say, making sure I accentuate his name.He might think he’s being polite, but I don’t need anyone sticking their nose into my business.
Besides, as Head of House Inferos, I technically outrank him, and he needs to remember that.
“I see.Well, mind you keep it professional.”He gives me a curt nod and disappears.
“I have to go,” I say and hobble my way out from under the arch, leaving Midnight in my wake.
Professors congregate around the outside of the Hall of Unfinished Business.It looks like nearly sixty students made it through the Severance Rite.Though that’s less than half our cohort of ten years ago.
“Students, if you please, reveal your scars,” I say, clapping to signal for silence.I receive a few tentative looks, and then they all brandish the scars over their sternums.
Alistair jostles the students into lines.He wears the Finis Academy uniform like me.It’s pressed into sharp lines and against his black skin forms a stark darkness behind his yellow demonic eyes.Long dreadlocks cling to his back.The only part of him that’s out of place are a few loose coils that curl around his scalp, needing to be retwisted.
“Why do you need to see the scars?”a male student asks.
“To place you in your Houses,” I answer.“Now, come on.”
Alistair examines the man’s scar and places him to the left.“House Vitalis.”
So ensues a rapid sorting and calling out of: Vitalis, Mortis, Inferos.
“What’s Vitalis?”the man says.
“House of Life.Your likely area of focused study will be either Theoretical Death studies, Business Dealing, or Memory Magic,” Alistair says, tugging at a woman to stand behind him.
Several students are pulled into the House Mortis line.That’s for the Eytomancers, Fabric Weavers and Resurrectionists.Contracts is an odd topic because it doesn’t fit squarely into any of the seven main magic disciplines.Mostly because it skims across them all.It’s the everything and nothing subject.
It takes a while for an Inferos to be called.It’s reserved for two types of students: primarily the Veilwalkers, but also those who have the most natural magic potential.The elites.Those most likely to win the coveted demon favour.
Every time Inferos is called, I spend a little longer staring at the initiates.They’re my charges now, thanks to Father.
The woman talking to Midnight is pulled into the House Inferos line and a heavy bubble sinks into my gut.Midnight follows, along with the tall blond guy and short girl with turquoise braids.
