Page 9 of Escaping Hallow Hill Academy
“Our inhouse working students are salary. Paid bimonthly,” the conniving but oh-so-intelligent woman adds.
Salary. Safety. And Sekars.
I shift on my feet as I reach for a deep breath. My heart’s pounding so loud, I swear this headmistress just gave me an orgasm with the simple wordbimonthly.
Money tempts me—think of all the manga I can buy—but really, it’s easier than admitting to the truth. That the only reason I’d ever stay here is because of the Sekar and the mystery the headmistress has to offer.
“Where do I sign up?” I ask with a small smile pressed to my lips that feels forced.
A low groan interrupts my pleased appearance, and it seems to put off Krist as well. Her icy gaze slides to the quiet, brooding man at my side for the first time since we entered the room.
Sialen looks straight ahead at the heavy red curtains on the far wall. He doesn’t flinch or even blink as she glares at him. The man’s a fucking brick wall with too much lashing anger in him to ever break.
Even if the headmistress looks like she’d be satisfied trying.
I’m still lost in his steely eyes as she turns away and glides back to her desk, that mechanical tail swaying in her wake.
“I have your acceptance letter here. I was very much indeed expecting you.” Slender, bone-like fingers pick up a crisp white paper and bring it to the edge of the glossy desk. Her metal nail holds the paper in place.
I take a single step when Sialen’s focused eyes slice to me. He swallows hard and stares even harder.
But never says a word.
What!? What do you want? Just speak to me, you fucking cock sausage!
Nothing. He says nothing.
It’s hard to look away from him, but I pass him with the feel of his gaze hot on my back. I’m standing in front of the watchful woman in less than one pounding heartbeat.
The sheet of paper contains swooping calligraphy at the top. It surprises me that it’s my own name rather than the Academy’s.
Emmera Lee Lucero
Born: January 15th, 1996
Race: Ancient Sakar
Height: 5’ 7”
Hair: witchen black
Eyes: dragon’s gold
Parents: Clara June Lucero, December 12, 1974 - January 16th, 1996
Robert Lee Lucero, January 15, 1972 - January 16th, 1996
The information following those lines is a blur of letters that my brain can’t seem to gather. All I see are those names. And those dates. And how completely fucking empty it feels to read it for the first time and still feel nothing.
“Clara and Robert. Their names were Clara and Robert?” I ask on a voice so small it gets lost in the silence. I hate the way it sounds coming out of my throat. I pride myself in being strong, and this seems like a sick fucking game she’s playing. Like she thinks seeing the names of my dead parents will open up a vulnerability inside and somehow break me. All it does is make me angry. Perhaps I don’t know my birth parents, but she doesn’t know that it doesn’t make me weak, and it won’t make me cry. I already shed enough tears to last me a lifetime years ago when I came home to find the last of my coven slaughtered and burning.
That hurt more than this.
“Our research is very thorough, Miss Lucero.” Her words are to the point, but I can feel her absorbing my every blink.
She’s waiting.
She wanted this moment more than anything, I think. She planned it so thoroughly, I can tell. I don’t understand her. She’s a creature I can’t discern. Neither witch, nor demon, but somethingotherI can’t quite place. She’s a mystery, one I want to solve, because I can feel the darkness surrounding her like a heavy blanket, and sinister shadows flickering around her edges. She’s like a spider taunting its prey, and she means to makemeher prey.
