Nightworld Academy: Term One(Nightworld Academy #1)(51)

His growing anger shocks me more than the hurt last night. Of course, he's right. I'm in denial. But why can’t he understand what I'm coping with?

"Until a few weeks ago, I didn't know vampires, shifters, and witches existed. How much do you think that revelation has screwed with my head? I’m lost and frightened. Every morning I wake up not knowing what the hell will happen to me next. Excuse me if I don’t immediately tell people a half-arsed story about someone dying."

He stands to face me, cheeks red in his pale face. "You saw my death and refused to tell me or do anything about it. How much do you think that has screwed with my head?"

A lump forms in my throat at his hard truths.

"Do you know what hurts the most?" he asks hoarsely as he leans forward. "That you've spent the last few weeks worried about your friend and focusing on the vision of her. Not me. You never saw her die, but think I will. That’s unfair."

"Because the situation with Tessa will happen sooner," I say.

"How do you know?" he snaps back.

I look around the library in case we've witnesses to the heating argument. "I don't, but I told you—if you stay inside the academy, then you'll be safe."

Jamie throws his hands up in exasperation. "You're so naive, Maeve."

"Yes. I am!" I retort. "I don't have a bloody clue about this stuff."

My throat thickens as tears push behind my eyes. I'm tired, and I'm hopeless, and I'm scared. Screw the novelty of a supernatural school that some would love to attend—this is serious and confusing shit.

He looks at the ceiling and takes a deep breath. "Sorry, I shouldn't say this. I’m upset too."

"But it's true. I’ve spent years keeping my secrets. Spilling them to strangers is hard, even though I know they can help."

My hands tremble and I tuck them beneath my arms. Jamie watches and he takes a deep breath. "I didn’t want to fight, Maeve. I told myself I'd deal with this. To shut you out."

"I understand," I mumble, but his words are a knife to the heart. "But I promise I'll speak to Sofia. We'll sort this. I'll fix it. You won't..."

"Die?" he suggests as I trail off.

"Don't say that." I reach out to him and try to take his hand. One of the things that kept me awake last night was putting myself in Jamie's shoes, and imagining how I'd feel if someone told me the same thing.

How? Exactly like the guy in front of me now: lost. Overnight, the words weighed heavily on him because his shoulders are slumped. Jamie resists me taking his hand, so I step forward and grab his arm.

"Don't," he says in a hoarse voice. "Leave me alone."

His words hurt more than I'd imagine. Jamie, Ash, and Amelia have been my rocks. The steadfast people I could lean on. I've been too caught up in myself and my own problems. These aren't inhuman witches and shifters. They're people too.

If he were Tessa, or even Amelia, I'd push on and try to wrap my arms around him. But I don't know Jamie well enough and hate that I've created a distance between us. One he’s added to that we can’t cross in this moment. In the cottage yesterday, we'd relaxed and met on a happier, friendlier level. The affinity that Sofia saw, that we both sense is there.

But I've ruined any chance of a close bond—even our friendship is shaky now.

"I want to find Sofia," I say to him. "I need her help. We need her help."





Chapter Twenty-Eight





JAMIE



Theodora stands in the window of her large office and stares out across the academy courtyard. Her smooth skin and unlined face give the illusion she's a young woman, but her eyes are those of someone who's seen much she'd rather forget.

Many see her as the beautiful and curvaceous woman who charms everybody into doing as she asks, but Theodora is a powerful lamia. One who lived through the Purge and survived. More than that, I've heard stories that she saved many vampires and shifters from death, at risk to her own life.

Theodora took on and killed hunters and protected those who couldn't protect themselves. Her fervent belief that the supernatural races should unite and keep themselves safe is what drove her back then and afterwards. She was instrumental in setting up the Nightworld academies and the system that brought together the races. Or as closely as we can hope.

Theodora takes any threat to her academy or her pupils personally, and I'm positive that behind this 500-year-old woman's deceptive appearance is a creature with more power than we can imagine. I’ve known her since I was a child—mum came here to study, and Theodora has been headmistress for a long time.

Our families are woven together, somewhere in our ancestry. Our witch and lamia families are a good example of what the Confederacy hope to achieve: unity between races.

The brown-haired woman with her pin-up girl looks is distant, and the smile she graces the world with every day has slipped today.

Sofia sits in a nearby chair, hands clasped tightly in her lap, and Maeve looks between both of them with more fear than the day she was attacked by Dominion.

For ten minutes, we listened while Maeve explained the circumstances around the future she predicted for me. Theodora asked for detail, but either Maeve has no more than snapshots, or is hiding something. I'm shocked and sickened when they ask Maeve for specific details and whether she sees me dead. As she tells them, I picture myself covered in the blood she describes, and my chest squeezes tight as if I'm there taking my last breaths.