Liam Takes Manhattan (Elder Races #9.5)(11)

I might be leaving home in a few weeks, he thought. That is, if Glenhaven has any room for new students. What if there’s a waitlist? What if I can’t get in for a year?

It was the first time he had considered the possibility, and the thought was unwelcome. He knew he was privileged and lucky in so many ways. For the most part, things happened the way he needed them to, and if for some reason they didn’t, his parents moved heaven and earth to make sure they did.

But Liam Giovanni didn’t have that kind of support. He couldn’t, not and still keep his identity a secret.

He blurted out, “What if I don’t get in?”

Pia and Eva fell silent for a moment. Eva asked, “Get in where?”

“I’ll fill you in on everything later,” Pia told her. Twisting in her seat to look at him, Pia said, “Honey, all any admissions counselor has to do is see how you can run fire up and down your hands and arms, while not getting burned. Believe me, they’ll let you in. They’ll probably try to shove a scholarship at you too, no matter what your father says.”

His panic subsided a bit. He muttered, “I sure hope so.”

“Try not to worry.” Pia reached back to pat his knee. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Her reassurance helped, but only a little. Because what if it wasn’t? Sometimes things weren’t okay. People died, and bad things happened.

A shiver ran down his spine, but he slid into silence again, crossing his arms and hunching in his seat as much as his seat belt would let him as he stared out the window.

West River Animal Shelter was located in a rundown industrial area in the southeast section of Midtown West, just north of the Lincoln Tunnel and close to the Hudson River. There wasn’t a parking lot, so as Eva looked for a place to park, Pia turned around to Liam again.

“If you’re going to college as Liam Giovanni, we have to start working now to keep your identity a secret. We can’t tell anybody at the shelter about you.” Pia’s gaze was serious as she searched his expression. “We can’t explain that my magical son wanted us to buy the organization. As far as most of the world knows, you’re still a baby.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he said. “I’m cool with that.”

“And besides, I don’t even know if you can buy a nonprofit. We’ll probably have to make a large enough donation so that we can get a seat on the board and change policy from there.”

“I’m cool with that too,” he said. “I just want to change it so that it has a no-kill policy.”

“Well, one way or another, we’ll get that done.” She smiled at him. “And in the meantime, you need to be one of my guards for this trip. Okay?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

Finally, Eva located a spot and backed into it, and Liam opened his door to step out on the snow-packed street. He followed Pia and Eva into the utilitarian-looking building, while he noted how Eva’s restless dark gaze never seemed to stop roaming.

Eva had been an excellent soldier. She had commanded the unit that Hugh had been in, and now she made just as excellent a bodyguard. But she would never make a sentinel. What was the difference?

Eva was a canine Wyr, and her lifespan was nowhere near that of one of the immortals, but that wasn’t the difference. Dragos didn’t make a distinction between the immortal Wyr and the others—Eva was just as welcome as anybody else to try for a sentinel position if she wanted it, and if she won the position, it would be hers for as long as she could do her job.

No, it was something else. Perhaps it was fire.

Eva didn’t have the drive to become a sentinel. While she had alpha tendencies, she had been content to be a unit commander, and she liked being Pia’s bodyguard. But Liam couldn’t imagine any of the sentinels being content with such a position for long, even though they liked to wear a laid-back demeanor.

So aside from ability, experience and ruthlessness, did a sentinel need to be driven as well? And if so, did Liam have that kind of fire in him for the position?

All he knew for certain was that he was going to be asking himself a lot of questions during the upcoming year.

Inside, the large lobby was utilitarian as well. Somebody had tried to make up for it by painting the concrete block walls with bright colors, and a large fake Christmas tree stood in one corner, decorated with pet toys and leashes.

They walked to the front reception desk where Pia gave her name. The elderly receptionist spoke on the phone and then told them that the executive director would be out in just a moment.

Smells assaulted Liam’s sensitive nose—disinfectant, along with the scents of stressed animals. A man and two young girls walked past them with a border collie mix on leash. As it neared Liam, the dog shrieked and tried to pull out of its collar.

His heart sinking, he quickly retreated until the family could calm the dog enough to walk it out the front door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mom give him a sad look before Pia turned to the front receptionist and asked, “Do you have a section with puppies?”

“We sure do,” the receptionist told her. “All the puppies that are up for adoption are through that glass door. You’ll be able to see it in a moment. I’m sure Eileen will want to give you a tour.”

“Certainly,” Pia said. She looked at Liam and told him telepathically, Go visit with the puppies if you want.