Azure Dragons (Supernatural Shifter Academy Book 2) Read online
Page 4
"I hope so," says Hawthorne, nodding slowly. "Because getting in over your head with these kinds of things never ends well, and this academy has a limited amount of places. And none for students who cause trouble. Have a good rest of your day, Ms. Brix." And with that, he turns on his heel and disappears down the hallway.
I watch him go and realise after a moment that my hands are balled into fists at my sides.
I may not be a very good shapeshifter, but I recognize a threat when I hear one.
"You don't look so good, Millie," Hazel informs me, swatting at a fly that seems very interested in her blonde curls. "A little queasy, actually."
"It's the travel," I lie, not making eye contact. "I've only teleported the one time—when Samantha and Josie first brought me here."
"For whatever it's worth, it gets easier every time," she says. "I almost puked the first time."
"Call me crazy, but I don't think reminding her of that is going to make it any better," mutters Hunter from where he's standing off to the left.
"I'm just trying to help," retorts Hazel.
"It's fine," I tell them. "I'm fine." Teleportation has never been an issue for me—at least, it wasn't, the only time I've ever experienced it. The truth is that I'm still uneasy after my run-in with Hawthorne. It didn't help that he made me late for my next class, either, but that's beside the point; I don't like the idea of his eyes on me, or any of my friends. And something tells me that we've only just hit the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what the administration will do to keep things under wraps. But I'm not about to dump that all on my friends right now - especially when they all seem thrilled to be leaving for Boston.
The students are all assembled in the quad, a thick throng of people all jostling each other and talking in excited voices. The rest of the week seemed to crawl by at a snail's pace, to the point where I was almost going stir-crazy. After finalizing the logistics and finishing our packing, the day has finally arrived, and in spite of my nerves, I couldn't be happier to be getting a change of scenery.
I was actually wondering how we were going to travel to America; there are hundreds of students at the Academy, and it seemed like a tall order to transport us all, but the faculty seems to have it all figured out. I suppose this beats an eight-hour flight followed by another hour going through customs, at any rate. I've heard they're pretty uptight about that sort of thing.
Either way, here we all are: huddled in a cluster around one of the low stone benches in the courtyard while we wait for things to get underway. Faculty fellows are milling about, doing head counts, while the professors and President stand off to the side, talking in low voices as they watch the proceedings.
"I'd rather we do it the old-fashioned way," Shade remarks from where he's sprawled out on the bench.
Silas turns to him, looking surprised. "Seriously?"
The wolf-shifter nods. "Don't tell me you don't miss plane travel. Tiny drinks, standing in line for hours, getting felt up by security agents…"
"I can't tell if you're being serious or not," Landon says.
Shade just grins at him.
I turn to Hunter, who's standing a little ways away from the rest of us. He's the quietest of the group, with a glumness about him that seems almost cliche, considering he's a vampire shifter. He's always struck me as a bit fastidious and neurotic, but then again, if I had Amelia as a sister, I would probably be, too. At the end of the day, he's a good guy, and he came through for us when it mattered. That matters more to me than how talkative he is. "I kind of figured you would be traveling with the rest of the Board members," I say, putting my hands in my pockets as I peer at him. "I saw Amelia over there with your dad."
"Right." He sighs, glancing in their direction; the fiery redheads of his family are engaged in some sort of deep conversation, although I could swear I see Amelia shoot us a contemptuous look. "Believe me, they wanted me to."
I raise my eyebrows. "You said no?" He nods. "Why, though?" I ask. "It would probably be easier for you all. First class treatment, and all that."
Hunter looks at me, and something flickers across his face. "I…" He sighs, rubbing his arm. "Maybe I'd rather travel with you," he says finally, looking like he's struggling to stay composed. Seeming to realise his mistake, his eyes go wide, and he struggles to course-correct. "I mean, you guys," he adds hastily. "All of you. You know."
I come close to asking what he means, but the poor guy already looks painfully flustered, so I let it go. "Well, we're glad to have you along," I tell him, clapping him jovially on the shoulder. He stiffens at my touch, like an electric shock has just gone through him, but says nothing else.
At that moment, Josie, one of the faculty fellows, approaches us, rubbing her hands together. Josie was one of the two recruiters who found me after my powers first manifested, along with Samantha. Both witch-shifters, they were the ones who brought me to the Academy in the first place. She's gorgeous, with dark skin, a cascade of glossy curls, and a kind smile, but I feel myself bristle as she approaches, even still. After Samantha showed her true colours, I'm not about to let my guard down again. As far as I'm concerned, everyone working for the Academy is suspect.
"All right, guys," she says in a commanding voice, loudly enough that the talking dies down. "We're going to be transporting you in groups of around ten. The faculty and administrators will be going separately as soon as we get there, you are all to wait on the school grounds until everyone has arrived." She nods to a couple of other women dressed in faculty uniforms, and they begin to shapeshift in unison, their skin going red and their eyes turning black. This makes sense, as powers can only be used in full or partial shifter form.
Josie steps forward, beckoning to us and a cluster of other students. "You all will be with me," she says, extending a hand to me and smiling. "Good to see you again, Millie."
"Likewise," I reply, returning her smile as I take her hand. Hunter comes to stand on my other side, joining his hand with mine, and the six of us form a chain along with the others in the group.
"Well," Josie says, checking one last time to make sure we're all accounted for, "enough of these formalities. Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"
Chapter 6
The sensation is familiar, and I’m reminded of the time not so long ago when I was first introduced to teleportation magic. That day on the docks feels like a lifetime ago, and in a sense, it was, but I don’t miss the panic I felt when the witches’ magic began to work on me. This time it’s less frightening, although I chalk that up partly to the fact that Landon’s warm hand is in mine, steadying me on my feet as pulses of tingling energy begin to course through my body. It’s still a little off-putting to open my eyes and see that my limbs are starting to turn translucent, as if in a slow dissolve in a movie. The energy continues to grow in intensity, and I remind myself to relax so that Josie’s job can be made easier. I can’t help but steal a glance at the ground beneath my feet to see the grass of the courtyard begin to waver and shift before my eyes. It slowly fades, going from a verdant green to a shade of dull grey as the magic continues to course through me. One look at the others tells me that they’re in the same boat, their bodies taking on that same noncorporeal look as we hurtle through time and space, jumping across the planet in a matter of seconds. It’s truly astounding.
Suddenly, almost as soon as it begins, the sensation subsides, and a warm breeze whips my hair as I look around. The Academy lawn is a world away; gone are the stone benches and old-fashioned buildings of the boarding school, replaced by one of the most modern campuses I’ve ever seen in my life. We’re standing on the curb at the bottom of a gently sloping hill that leads up to a sleek, squat building. Paneled glass windows stretch practically from floor to ceiling, and thin yellow columns support an asymmetrical geometric roof that tilts upward at an angle. Trees line the sidewalk, and as I look around, I see that this isn’t some isolated island like the one where our school is located; in the distance, buildings break
up the horizon on all sides. This area seems vaguely suburban, but farther out, I can make out the shapes of skyscrapers, clock towers, and colonial-style municipal buildings. I can only assume that’s downtown Boston, and we’re somewhere on the outskirts. It’s astonishing to me that they would put a shapeshifting academy right in the middle of human society like this, and I wonder if the unrest Hawthorne mentioned has affected the students here in any way.
Josie lets go of my hand and rubs her palm down her face. She looks tired from the exertion, but she handled the teleportation spectacularly, all the same. Her body is still red and glowing with her magic, and she turns around after composing herself for a moment to make sure everyone is here. All around us, I can see other groups beginning to manifest, the witches keeping a careful eye on their charges as more and more students appear in the lot. “I’m heading back for another round,” Josie tells me. “Stay put here until we’ve brought everyone over.”
I nod, and watch as she vanishes in an instant. Off to go collect more students. It’s only then that I realise I’m still holding Landon’s hand, and I our eyes meet briefly; he grins, giving my hand a squeeze before letting go, and I cross my arms as I turn to face the rest of my group. “This is amazing,” Hazel says, her eyes wide as she stares around at the campus. “I wasn’t expecting something so modern. I mean, don’t get me wrong, our Academy is nice and all, but…”
“Don’t kid yourself,” Shade tells her. “It’s stuffy as hell. This is much more my speed.”
“Would you mind at least waiting until we’ve settled in before you start setting things on fire, or whatever it is you do?” Silas asks, rubbing his forehead.
Shade shoots him a look. “No promises, big boy.”
My attention has already returned to the buildings in the distance. “It’s awfully bold of them to put it right in the middle of a city,” I remark. “Aren’t they worried humans will stumble across it or something?”
“Why would they be?” Hunter asks, turning to me. “This is a shifter suburb. It’s obvious—everywhere around here. I’m guessing it’s a gated neighbourhood, too.”
“How on earth do you know that?” Landon asks him.
Hunter just shrugs. “Spend enough time with the mucky mucks of the shifter community and you start to get a nose for these things.” There’s a brief pause, and then he adds, a little gruffly, “Now if I could just get a nose for actual shapeshifting, I’ll be golden.”
At that moment, the group of board members and professors appears on the grass of the hillside, with Hawthorne at the front. He says something to one of the others, and they turn around to assess the assembled students. More and more are manifesting every minute, and before long what seems like the entire student body is crowded on the sidewalk, talking excitedly and waiting for instructions.
“Hawthorne,” comes a new voice from the top of the hill. It’s honey-sweet and crystal-clear, belonging to an attractive, dark-haired woman dressed in a blue uniform, not unlike our own, that matches her ocean-blue eyes. “I’m glad to see you all made it here okay.” Her accent is distinctly American, with an unmistakable East Coast twang. She sweeps us with her gaze, clasping her hands in front of her. “I knew there would be a lot of you, but I wasn’t expecting quite this many.”
“We’ve brought along all our students,” Hawthorne replies. “If that’s going to be a problem, though…”
“No, not at all,” she replies, shaking her head. “We actually just remodeled, and we’ve got plenty of open dorms. The students have been buzzing for days about getting to meet some of their counterparts from across the pond.”
“As have we,” Hawthorne agrees, before turning to the assembled students. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he says, “I would like to introduce you all to Rosemary Russo. She’s the President of the American branch of the Shifter Academy. I expect you all to treat her with the same respect you would show to me, or any of my colleagues. Is that clear?”
There’s a murmur of assent from the crowd of students, but Russo waves him off. “Don’t get too hung up on formalities,” she tells him. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I’m sure we’re all itching to see where this little conference of ours takes us.”
“On that, we can agree,” Hawthorne says.
“Well,” continues Russo, “I don’t want to keep anyone waiting. If your students are all here, then we can give them a quick tour of the campus and let them get set up in their rooms. No sense in sticking around in the parking lot, yeah?”
Hawthorne gives her a brisk nod.
“You heard the lady,” Josie says, ushering us up the path onto the hill. “Let’s go see what this place has to offer.”
We head up the slope and into the front lot, looking like a herd of white-clad horses on the fresh green grass. Hawthorne and Russo are at the front of the group, and the rest of us follow them like ducklings, making our way into the front entrance hall. A long, windowed hallway extends in the back, leading to a set of twin staircases. There’s a reception desk, along with a bunch of smaller, branching hallways lined with classrooms on either side. The ceilings are high, letting in an absurd amount of light. A few students dressed in gold uniforms are milling about the room, and they look at us like we’re a new, exotic species of animal as we flood the entrance hall. A couple of them jostle each other and point, while a few more murmur excitedly to one another.
“This is the main hall,” announces Russo, making a sweeping gesture with her arm. We have the reception desk here, and off to the left is the registrar’s office. Those stairs in the back lead to the upper floors - there are three, altogether, divided into wings based on shifter form. On the east side is our auditorium, as well as a couple lecture halls for the theory classes, and the nurse’s office can be found that way.” She points over her shoulder towards the far corner of the room.
We come to a stop in front of the reception desk, where a tall, handsome older guy dressed in the gold student uniform is looking at something over the receptionist’s shoulder. His hair is dark brown and on the long side, and he has the inhumanly pale complexion that I’ve come to see as characteristic of vampire shifters. He straightens up when Russo approaches, giving her a brisk nod. “President Russo,” he says, turning his gaze to the rest of us. “I assume these are the U.K. students?”
“That’s right, Mr. Morgan,” Russo says. “I’m wondering if you wouldn’t mind showing them to the dorms? If everything is taken care of, that is…”
“Of course,” he replies. “I was just going over the living arrangements with Mrs. Palmer, here.”
“Excellent.” The President turns back to us, rubbing her hands together. “All right, everyone,” she says, “I’ll have the faculty accompany me to the guest house where they’ll be staying. As for the rest of you…” She puts a hand on the tall guy’s shoulder. “This is Lyle Morgan. He’s in his third year here, a vampire shifter, and one of our Resident Assistants. He’ll be explaining your housing assignments for the time that you’re here. If you have any questions about where to find things on campus, he’s who you should turn to. But I’ll let him handle that, himself.”
“Gladly, President,” the guy, Lyle, replies, his eyes sweeping over the crowd. For a moment, they settle on me, and the corner of his mouth quirks up, but I don’t have time to think about it; the look is gone in an instant as he clears his throat and beckons to the assembled students. “All right,” he says, accepting a paper from the receptionist before taking a step backward to look at us. “The dorm building is just on the other side,” he says. “If you’ll follow me this way…” He leads the throng of students down the main hall and out a separate door on the other side, where a lawn full of modern sculptures and flowering plants gives way to a set of equally gorgeous buildings.
“This is nice,” Silas observes, falling into step alongside me.
“Damn right,” agrees Landon. “I think I could get used to this.”
“Don’t get too comfortable,�
� I warn them, laughing a little. “We’re not here for long.”
“Exactly,” Landon replies. “Which is why I plan to make the most of it.” He winks at me, and I stifle an eye roll, even though I can feel my heart do a little flip-flop.
The dorm building reminds me a lot of the one back at our campus, except with modern architecture and furniture that reminds me a little bit of a hotel lobby. The biggest difference is that the rooms start on the ground floor and there doesn’t seem to be a division between male and female dorms. Lyle turns to us, examining the piece of paper. “Well, let’s not drag this out,” he says. “This is a new building, and there are only a handful of American students currently rooming here. We have suite-style dorms here, which means a shared common area with four connecting rooms each. We were originally planning to give assignments ourselves, but this was a bit of a rush job. So…” He shrugs his shoulders. “They’ve decided to leave it up to you guys to pick your rooms. Any issues you have, I would be happy to assist. So… I guess that’s all she wrote. Go crazy, or whatever.”
He puts his hands behind his back, and the rest of us look around in confusion, waiting for some kind of further instructions. When none come, and it becomes clear that we really are being left to our own devices, the students begin to disperse in a practical frenzy. I glance back at the others with a questioning look on my face. “Well, you heard the man,” Shade says, crossing his arms and smirking. “Let’s figure out where we’re gonna be shacking up for this little adventure.”
Chapter 7
I can’t help but feel a rush of excitement as I follow Hazel and the guys out of the common area and up to the dorm level. While the dorms back home have a bit of an austere feel to them, like a convent or a monastery, the upper floor here looks practically like a hotel room, with modern glass fixtures and numbered doors stretching along either wall. On the front of each suite door is a white board marked with the names of the residents inside, although as Lyle said, it seems like this building is mostly empty. Other students are already peering into rooms with an almost childlike glee, and I can’t blame them—we’ve more or less been given free reign here, and Landon was right: we ought to make the most of it.