Shadow Rising
Chapter Six

By the time I walked into history class for first period, the footage of me being tackled by the security staff must’ve been shared with every single Zenith student. Among the whispers about my pointy ears, I also heard discussion of Giantesses, Baphomets and the color of my panties—pink, if you were curious—which I’d evidently flashed during the scuffle. Talk about first impressions.

I took the only spare seat—the oh-so-conspicuous center desk of a five-by-five grid—and tried to put my bow out of my mind. According to my rota, History was taught by Sister Celeste. I braced myself to see my first ever nun.

In hobbled a tiny, wizened woman in a gray robe. She had a wrinkled face like a raisin. I couldn’t see any distinguishing facial features—no horns, no fangs—which could only mean she was an Immortal.

Immortals were rare. Theirs was an exclusive club. Only the best and brightest got to become Immortal. The rituals surrounding the process were shrouded in secrecy. All anyone knew was that to join the club, you had to forgo your powers entirely.

Immortals were generally revered, like shamans of wisdom. Not so much among my generation though. To us, they were like senile back-seat drivers.

I personally didn’t understand why anyone would want to become Immortal. Losing my Elkie powers would be worse than death, and the messed-up psychology of knowing you’ll never die is surely worse than the messed-up psychology of knowing that you will. Added to that, it’s not like Immortals get to be all young and hot forever. You still go all pruney, like Sister Celeste. You still get dry skin and arthritic knees. Call me crazy, but I just don’t get the appeal.

Sister Celeste peered over her glasses at me.

“Are you the new girl?” she asked in an aristocratic accent.

I cleared my throat. “Yup. Theia Foxglove.”

She smiled her wrinkly smile. “I’m delighted to have you in our class. Of course, it won’t be Foxglove for much longer, will it? You’ll soon be Theia Geiser, isn’t that right?”

From all directions came an eruption of whispers. Everyone already knew who I was—the pink-pantied Elkie with a penchant for violence—but now I’d been outed as a soon-to-be Geiser.

A Fae girl in the desk ahead of mine whipped her head over her shoulder and glared at me. She had dark-brown skin and amazingly pouty lips. She’d styled her tight black curls into a pixie cut. Her stony glare pinned me to my seat.

She must’ve assumed that because of my Geiser connection, I supported him. From her glower, I deduced that she did not.

She “hmff’d” at me, then turned back to the front, fluttering her shimmery wings in the Fae equivalent of a hair flip.

“He’s my mom’s fiancé,” I clarified. “I won’t be taking his surname.”

“Why ever not?” Sister Celeste said. “The Geiser name is a proud one to inherit. Foxglove is so Elkie.”

She said it like it was a bad thing.

I narrowed my eyes. “Well, I am Elkie,” I said. “And Foxglove is a pretty good name, too.”

Sister Celeste was still smiling her prune-lipped smile, but her words were veiled with arrogance. “Perhaps in the forest.”

The class began to laugh. I felt my cheeks burn.

Sister Celeste began her class, explaining that over the semester we’d be covering the First World War and all the changes that came about because of it, from the carving up of Germany to the rise of communism in the East.

“Of course, it can all be traced back to the 1885 peace treaty,” Sister Celeste added. “Forcing collaboration between the moon-class and sun-class, despite thousands of years of evidence showing such a thing couldn’t work, was bound to cause conflict.” She let a scoff out from the back of her throat. “Not to mention all the sacrifices we made for the so-called ‘rights’ of the moon-class!”

My eyes widened with disbelief. Sister Celeste’s words echoed something William had been whining about over breakfast. He’d been complaining about the ceremony he’d have to go through to be initiated as mayor. Everyone in power had to take it, even the sun and moon presidents. It involved weakening their powers for the duration of their term, so that whenever they met with leaders of the other class, no one had the upper hand. It was another one of those peace treaty laws that mostly affected the Vanpari, suppressing their power of persuasion because of the obvious potential for abuse. As a Mage, the ritual would only slightly weaken William’s ability to cast spells, but he still dramatically referred to it as “magical castration.”

I’d just thought he was being theatrical. But to hear a similar sentiment from my teacher really was baffling. What were they talking about? Everyone had made sacrifices during the peace treaty, not just the sun-class.

I couldn’t let this slide.

“The moon-class made sacrifices too,” I said, interrupting Sister Celeste’s tirade.

Everyone turned to look at me. The Fae who’d glared at me before swiveled in her chair. This time, her face wore a completely different expression. Instead of a glower, she looked curious.

“Is that so?” Sister Celeste said. “Do you have any examples?”

“Vanpari,” I said. “They had to stop drinking human blood. I read that ninety percent of the Vanpari population are anemic now.”

Sister Celeste scoffed. “Would you prefer a society where a Vanpari’s right to blood infringes upon your right to not be pounced upon, bitten and suckled via the neck?”

My classmates began to titter.

“The whole Vanpari population could easily be sustained through blood donation banks,” I contested. “I know I’d happily donate a bit of blood if it meant others didn’t have to suffer.”

“A noble yet ludicrous suggestion,” Sister Celeste replied in a condescending tone that made my every nerve tense. “Blood banks were rejected by the Vanpari themselves. The vegan approach was entirely their choice. If they suffer from anemia as a result, they only have themselves to blame.”

My mouth dropped open. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Not only was Sister Celeste bewilderingly narrow-minded, but what she was saying was completely inaccurate. The Vanpari had been forced into giving up human blood because every other option they’d brought to the table had been rejected. Either they agreed to getting their sole nourishment from demon-beast blood or they lived underground like worms. It was hardly a fair choice.

“You’re twisting the truth,” I contested.

Sister Celeste glared at me. “Remind me, girl, where did you receive your education before your transfer to Zenith?”

I folded my arms. I knew where this was going. She was getting personal. “Sunset High.”

“A public school, I presume?”

“Yup.”

“Then I rest my case.”

Behind me, people started to laugh. Even a few Mage familiars started chirping. They were such teacher’s pets. At Sunny’s, no one would be seen dead agreeing with a teacher, yet the stuck-up kids of Zenith were practically falling over themselves to express solidarity with a shriveled-up old nun.

I slumped back in my seat, frustrated. Just because my education hadn’t been paid for didn’t mean it was less valid. Sister Celeste’s opinions were so biased and inaccurate it made me furious she was even allowed to teach in a school.

As irritation crackled in my veins, I noticed the Fae girl was looking at me again. But this time, when she caught my eye, she began to slowly smile. She must’ve realized from my outburst that there was no way in hell I was a Geiser supporter.

Maybe there was one person at Zenith who wasn’t an asshole, after all.

*

It was a relief when the bell rang and History ended. I’d had about as much of Sister Celeste’s bullshit as I could handle.

I headed into the locker room to change for Battle Class, looking forward to my favorite subject. Until I saw Emerald.

My chest sank. I’d really been hoping I wouldn’t have to share any classes with her. Sharing a home was proving hard enough and we’d barely done that for a day.

I slunk into the corner and started to undress.

Emerald was standing with Oil Slick, the skinny blond Fae who’d whispered about my ears in the hallway, and a couple of other girls who looked just as mean. They took it in turns to giggle behind their hands at me as I slipped out of my day clothes.

I was halfway into my black jumpsuit when the Fae girl from History came waltzing round the corner. She must have changed in the toilet cubicle because she was already in her gym kit. Without the frumpy school uniform, I could see she had killer curves and ridiculously long legs. Her dark skin shimmered with the golden hue of Fae glitter.

She made eye contact with no one as she headed into the gym. She held herself with the dignity of someone who chose to be an outsider, rather than someone who’d had it forced on them. Not to mention she was wearing eye-grabbing neon-pink tennis shoes, a choice someone who’d been ostracized would probably avoid.

She was definitely an intriguing one…

I headed into the gymnasium. My mouth fell open with awe. It was less gymnasium and more arena. Enormous, state of the art, with a huge domed ceiling and bright spotlights that made the polished floor gleam. Unlike the gym at Sunny’s, this one didn’t smell of sweat and damp cloth.

Now this I liked.

The door at the other end of the hall opened. The boys came filing in. Nikolas Storm was among them.

My hands began to tremble. If I’d thought Nikolas was hot before, seeing him in his Battle gear ratcheted it up by about a million percent. His lithe physique was now on full display, and the outline of a six-pack was visible through the tight black fabric. My pulse started to race.

Nikolas’s black owl familiar flew off to a dedicated perch attached to one wall. It looked oddly out of place among all the robins, sparrows and finches, as did Emerald’s brightly colored quetzal, which was busy preening itself.

While I waited for the teacher to arrive, I took a seat on the bleachers. According to my rota, this class was not taught by a nun, which I was relieved about. The thought of a pruney old nun like Sister Celeste in short-shorts made me shudder.

A group of Celestial guys passed me, heading for some seats a few rows back.

“Yeah, I’d hit that,” one of them said. “But she’d have to hide the ears.”

He was obviously talking about me. And, unlike Oil Slick, he’d obviously intended for me to hear.

Revulsion raced through me. I turned my head sharply. A Celestial boy with huge black-and-brown feathered wings was looking at me with a smug expression. He wiggled his eyebrows.

I flipped him the middle finger.

When I turned back to face the front, I noticed the Fae girl was smirking.

Just then, Coach Lassiter entered. He was Daimon, with gray, knobbly, rock-like skin.

Everyone stood up and sauntered down to the front, forming a loose line as he jogged toward us.

“We have two new students today,” he said, reading off his clipboard. “Nikolas Storm and Theia Foxglove.”

I glanced over at Nikolas. He kept his face to the front. Still ignoring me.

Fine. Two can play that game.

I turned back to face Coach Lassiter.

“I’m going to need to assess their strengths and weaknesses,” he continued. “So the rest of you warm up by doing laps. No flying, Trevor,” he added sternly, glaring at the Celestial jerk with the black-and-brown wings.

Everyone groaned and went off to run laps of the gymnasium, leaving Nikolas and me alone together. As we stood side by side, with just a foot of space between us, I felt like there was an invisible magnet trying to pull me closer to him. I could almost feel the coolness coming off his skin. But Nikolas’s face was completely impassive. It was like I didn’t even exist to him.

Coach Lassiter opened his arms to the mats in front of us. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“What do you want us to do?” I asked. “Run? Jump? Climb? You name it, I can do it.”

“Fight,” Coach Lassiter said.

A thrill of excitement went through me. It was time to show off just how awesome I was at fighting. And see Nikolas’s six-pack in action. He’d been ignoring me all day, but now he’d have no choice but to interact with me. And touch me…

“No magic,” Coach Lassiter added to Nikolas.

We stepped onto the bright blue sparring mat and faced one another.

Battle Class might seem brutal to an outsider, but it’s a way of life for us. We start learning self-defense techniques in kindergarten, alongside our ABC’s. By high school, it’s second nature, and we’re basically all badass martial arts fighters, males and females alike. If this battle is tipped in anyone’s favor, it’s mine. I excel at Battle Class. Not only was I top of the class at Sunny’s, I also have my Elkie speed and agility to draw on. Without his magic, Nikolas is only as good as his technique.

We bowed to Coach Lassiter, then to one another, then both moved into horse stance—a wide squatting position that was the traditional starting position.

As Coach Lassiter’s shrill whistle signified the start of the fight, I used my super fast Elkie perception to assess Nikolas’s posture. Stable legs. Low center of gravity. So far so good. Someone had paid attention in class.

Then I glanced up and locked my gaze with his. Nikolas’s irises were so dark they were almost black. Like big voids I could get lost in…

Suddenly, Nikolas lurched forward. I’d gotten so distracted by his eyes, I’d briefly lost focus, and Nikolas had quite rightly utilized my moment of distraction.

Pull it together, I told myself, as I took a large step back to minimise the impact I knew was coming my way.

Nikolas’s knuckles slammed into my shoulder bones.

Pain bloomed in my shoulder.

“OOF!” I cried, jerking back so sharply the necklace William had given me flicked up into my face. I should’ve taken it off but had completely forgotten I was wearing it. Talk about adding insult to injury!

No more ogling, Theia, I thought sternly, resuming my defensive stance. Don’t let this jerk whoop your ass!

I positioned my arms across the vitals of my center line, and my hands into vertical “protecting hand position.” Then I turned my Elkie senses up to eleven and honed in on Nikolas with laser-precise focus.

The dance began.

We bounced around the mat, shifting and turning on the balls of our feet. As I moved, a strange sensation tugged inside of me. A prickle started racing across my skin. It was the same feeling I’d had when I’d recited the flame spell over dinner. My Mage magic was stirring as if instinctively roused by the fight.

Oh shit. That’s not good.

The last thing my reputation needed was for me to accidentally let loose my untrained inner Mage.

I pushed it down, trying to quell the buzz of magic swelling inside of me.

Nikolas jabbed a right hook. I dodged it, springing on my toes.

He jabbed again. I punched out, slamming my fist into the exposed part of his chest.

Thwack.

Nikolas staggered back. He righted himself and immediately attempted to retaliate, punching out.

I dodged, easily.

It had been a sloppy attempt. Predictable. Thanks to my Elkie senses, I could almost see what he was about to do before he did it. With my Elkie agility I could dodge. He’d have to get a little more creative or this would be an easy win for me.

He charged, slammed into me, and we both went down.

Anyone who fights knows the floor is the worst place to be. Once you’re there, technique kinda goes out the window and everything descends into grappling. Voluntarily putting himself into that position was a very risky move for Nikolas to make, and he’d clearly only made it out of desperation. Simply put, he’d run out of other options.

The noise of us hitting the mat caught the attention of everyone else in the hall. They stopped running and hurried over to watch, forming a cluster around us. Emerald and Oil Slick glared at me with jealousy.

The weight of Nikolas landing on top of me knocked all the air out of me, which afforded him the upper hand because, you know, breathing is fundamental.

I writhed, hitting out with my fists, trying to connect with any part of him so I could release the pressure and draw breath.

I caught his rib cage with my right fist. Then his cheek with my left.

A surge of electricity crackled through me. Not Mage magic this time. But powerful chemical attraction.

I noticed a shift in Nikolas, too. Something flashed behind his eyes. He hesitated. His gaze softened. Did he feel the attraction too, or was that wishful thinking on my part? Or worse, had he just realized I had the hots for him and was he trying to exploit my weakness?

Either way, now wasn’t the time to replace out.

I socked him in the ear. Nikolas cried out. I shoved the heels of my palms into his breast bone, and he tumbled back onto his ass.

Quick as a flash, I rolled onto my stomach and pushed myself back up to standing.

My speed drew a gasp from the onlookers. They’d probably never even seen an Elkie fight. I felt like I had a lot to prove, like the weight of my kind was pressing on my shoulders.

Nikolas swiped out with his leg, trying to take me out by the ankles. Rookie mistake. I jumped over them easily.

“Punch her!” I heard a female voice cry. “Punch her!”

Was that Emerald? Way to make it obvious where her loyalty lay!

Nikolas leaped to his feet. Gone was the softer glance from before. Back was the cold, dark stare of a Mage in primal fight mode. Clearly, he’d worked out I had control of my hormonal weaknesses.

He got a right hook in, and pain exploded from my cheek.

Anger pulsed through me. I was expecting to feel the familiar surge of Elkie adrenaline, speed, and agility that had seen me to the victory line of every Battle Class knockout I’d been in before, but instead, I felt the tingly magic feeling instead. This time, it was way stronger than when I’d made the candles explode. And it was growing and growing. It felt… uncontrollable.

I realized, too late, that I was about to blow.

Suddenly, two huge orbs of white light burst from my palms. They blasted into Nikolas with the strength of a gale. He flew across the length of the gym and hit the hardwood floor with a crunch.

Everyone froze, stunned into silence.

“Foxglove!” Coach Lassiter bellowed. His rocky eyes narrowed into slits. “What part of no magic do you not understand?”

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” I cried, my heart racing.

Up ahead, Nikolas was lying in a crumpled heap, completely motionless. I’d knocked him out. His black owl flew in a wonky, dazed zigzag over to him, before nestling into the crook of his neck like a ball of black feathers.

Way to go, Theia, I scolded myself. I’d essentially eradicated what slim chance I had of getting Nikolas Storm to like me.

“Nik!” Emerald screamed, breaking from the circle of gawking onlookers and running to him. Her quetzal left its perch and came soaring, beautifully, across the gymnasium, before landing elegantly on her shoulder.

“Is he okay?” I called. “Did I hurt him?”

Coach Lassiter jogged over to Nikolas. “Let’s get him to the nurse. Trevor, can you?”

The Celestial jerk flew over and scooped Nikolas’s floppy body up into his bulky arms. I watched, helplessly, as he flew him out of the gymnasium.

I looked down at my hands. Forks of white electricity were crackling all over them.

What the actual heck?