The Good, the Bad, and the Undead - Page 7/29

"Rache," Jenks said from my earring. "Take a squint at that guy. Is he trolling or what?"

I tugged my bag up higher onto my shoulder and peered through the unseasonably warm September afternoon at the kid in question as I walked through the informal lounge. Music tickled my subconscious, the volume of his radio set too low to hear well. My first thought was that he must be hot. His hair was black, his clothes were black, his sunglasses were black, and his black duster was made of leather. He was leaning against a vending machine trying to look suave as he talked to a woman in a gothic black lace dress. But he was blowing it. No one looks sophisticated with a foam cup in his hand, no matter how sexy his two-day stubble is. And no one wore goth but out-of-control teen living vamps and pathetically sad vamp wannabes.

I snickered, feeling vastly better. The big campus and the conglomeration of youth had me on edge. I had gone to school at a small community college, taking the standard two-year program followed by a four-year internship with the I.S. My mother would have never been able to afford tuition at the University of Cincinnati on my dad's pension, extra death benefit aside.

I glanced at the faded yellow receipt Edden had given me. It had the time and days my class met, and right down at the lower right-hand corner was the cost of it all - tax, lab fees, and tuition all totaled up into one appalling sum. Just this one class was nearly as much as a semester at my alma mater. Nervous, I shoved the paper in my bag as I noticed a Were in the corner watching me. I looked out of place enough without wandering around with a class schedule in my grip. I might as well have hung a card around my neck saying, "Continuing Adult Education Student." God help me, but I felt old. They weren't much younger than I was, but their every move screamed innocence.

"This is stupid," I muttered to Jenks as I left the informal commissary. I didn't even know why the pixy was with me. Must be Edden had sicked him on me to make sure I went to class. My vamp-made boots clicked smartly as I strode through the windowed, elevated walkway connecting the Business Arts building with Kantack Hall. A jolt went through me as I realized my feet were hitting the rhythm of Takata's "Shattered Sight," and though I still couldn't really hear the music, the lyrics settled themselves deep into my head to drive me nuts. Sift the clues from the dust, from my lives, of my will./ I loved you then. I love you still.

"I should be with Glenn, interviewing Dan's neighbors," I complained. "I don't need to take the freaking class, just talk to Dan's classmates."

My earring swung like a tire swing, and Jenks's wings tickled my neck. "Edden doesn't want to give Dr. Anders any warning that she's a suspect. I think it's a good idea."

I frowned, my steps growing muffled as I found the carpeted hallway and began watching the numbers on the doors count up. "You think it's a good idea, do you?"

"Yeah. But there's one thing he forgot." He snickered. "Or maybe he didn't."

I slowed as I saw a group standing outside a door. It was probably mine. "What's that?"

"Well," he drawled, "now that you're taking the class, you fit the profile."

Adrenaline zinged through me and vanished. "How about that?" I murmured. Damn Edden anyway.

Jenks's laughter was like wind chimes. I shifted my heavy book to my other hip, scanning the small gathering for the person most likely to spill the best gossip. A young woman looked up at me, or Jenks rather, smiling briefly before turning away. She was dressed in jeans like me, with an expensive-looking suede coat over her T-shirt. Casual yet sophisticated. Nice combination. Dropping my bag to the carpet tile, I leaned back against the wall like everyone else, a noncommittal four feet away.

I surreptitiously looked at the book by the woman's feet. Noncontact Extensions Using Ley Lines. A tiny wash of relief went through me. I had the right book, at least. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. I glanced at the frosted glass of the closed door, hearing a muted conversation from inside. Must be the previous class hadn't let out yet.

Jenks rocked my earring, pulling on it. I could ignore that, but when he started singing about inchworms and marigolds, I batted him off.

The woman beside me cleared her throat. "Just transfer in?" she asked.

"Beg pardon?" I asked as Jenks flitted back.

She popped her gum, her heavily made-up eyes going from me to the pixy. "There aren't many of us ley line students. I don't remember seeing you. Do you usually take night classes?"

"Oh." I pushed myself away from the wall and faced her. "No. I'm taking a class to, ah, move ahead at work."

She laughed as she tucked her long hair back. "Hey, I'm right there with you. But by the time I get out of here, there's probably not going to be any jobs left for a film production manager with ley line experience. Everyone seems to be minoring in art these days."

"I'm Rachel." I extended my hand. "And this is Jenks."

"Nice to meet you," she said, taking it for an instant. "Janine."

Jenks buzzed to her, alighting on her hastily raised hand. "Pleasure is all mine, Janine," he said, actually making a bow.

She beamed, utterly delighted. Obviously she hadn't had much contact with pixies. Most stayed outside the city unless employed in the few areas pixies and fairies excelled in: camera maintenance, security, or good old-fashioned sneaking around. Even so, fairies were far more commonly employed, since they ate insects instead of nectar and their food supply was more readily available.

"Uh, does Dr. Anders actually teach the class, or does she have an aide do it?" I asked.

Janine chuckled, and Jenks flitted back to my earring. "You've heard about her?" she asked. "Yes, she teaches, seeing as there's not that many of us." Janine's eyes pinched. "Especially now. We started with more than a dozen, but we lost four when Dr. Anders told us the murderer was taking only ley line witches and to be careful. And then Dan went and quit." She slumped back against the wall, sighing.

"The witch hunter?" I asked, stifling my smile. I had chosen the right person to stand beside. I made my eyes wide. "You're kidding...."

Her face went worried. "I think that's some of the reason why Dan left. And it was a shame, too. The man was so hot, he could make a sprinkler spark in a rainstorm. He had a big interview. Wouldn't tell me anything. I think he was afraid I'd apply for it, too. Looks like he got the job."

My head bobbed as I wondered if this was the news he was going to tell Sara Jane on Saturday. But then a slow burn started in me that perhaps supper at Carew Tower had been a dump dinner, and he chickened out and left without telling her anything.

"Are you sure he quit?" I asked. "Maybe the witch hunter..." I left my sentence open, and Janine smiled reassuringly.

"Yes, he quit. He asked if I wanted to buy his magnetic chalk if he got the job. The bookstore won't take them back once you break the seal."

My face went slack in sudden, real alarm. "I didn't know I needed chalk."

"Oh, I've got one you can borrow," she said as she rummaged in her purse. "Dr. Anders usually has us sketching something or other: pentagrams, north/south apogees...you name it, we've traced it. She lumps the lab in with the lecture. That's why we meet here instead of a lecture hall."

"Thanks," I said as I accepted the metallic stick and gripped it along with my book. Pentagrams? I hated pentagrams. My lines were always crooked. I'd have to ask Edden if he would pay for a second trip to the bookstore. But then remembering the cost of the class he would probably never be reimbursed for, I decided to go pick up my old school supplies from my mom. Swell. Better give her a call.

Janine saw my sick look, and misunderstanding it, she rushed to say, "Oh, don't worry, Rachel. The murderer isn't after us. Really. Dr. Anders said to be careful, but he's only going for experienced witches."

"Yeah," I said, wondering if I would be considered experienced or not. "I guess."

The conversations around us ceased as Dr. Anders's voice shrilled from behind the door, "I don't know who's killing my students. I've been to too many funerals this month to listen to your foul accusations. And I'll sue you from here back to the Turn if you slander my name!"

Janine looked alarmed as she picked up her book and held it to her chest. The students in the hallway shifted from foot to foot and exchanged uneasy looks. From my earring Jenks whispered, "So much for keeping Dr. Anders in the dark about her possible suspect status." I nodded, wondering if Edden would let me drop the class now. "It's Denon in there with her," Jenks added, and I took a quick breath.

"What?"

"I can smell Denon," he reiterated. "He's in there with Dr. Anders."

Denon? I thought, wondering what my old boss was doing out from behind his desk.

There was a soft murmur, followed by a loud pop. Everyone in the hall but Jenks and me jumped. Janine reached up and touched her ear as if she had just been knocked a good one. "Didn't you feel that?" she asked me, and I shook my head. "She just set a circle without drawing a real one first."

I eyed the door along with everyone else. I didn't know you could set a circle without drawing it. I also didn't like that everybody but Jenks and I had been able to tell she had done it. Feeling as if I was in over my head, I picked my bag up.

The low rumble of my old boss's voice pulled a chill from me. Denon was a living vamp, like Ivy. But he was low-blood, rather than high, having been born a human and infected with the vamp virus later by one of the true undead. And where Ivy had political power because she'd been born a vamp and thus was guaranteed to join the undead even if she should die alone with every drop of blood in her, Denon would always be second-class, having to trust that someone would bother to finish turning him after he died.

"Get out of my room," Dr. Anders demanded. "Before I file harassment charges."

The students all shifted nervously. I wasn't surprised when the frosted glass darkened with a shape behind it. I stiffened with the rest when the door opened and Denon walked out. The man almost had to turn sideways to clear the door frame.

I still maintained my belief that Denon had been a boulder in a previous life - a smooth, river-worn boulder massing about a ton maybe? Being low-blood and having only human strength, he had to work hard to keep up with his dead brethren. The results were a trim waist and oodles of bunching muscles. They pulled at his white dress shirt as he sauntered into the hallway. The stark cotton stood in sharp contrast with his complexion, drawing my eye and holding it - just as he wanted.

The class fell back as he eased past. A cold presence seemed to flow out of the room and pool about him, the remnants of the aura he had probably pulled on Dr. Anders. A confident, dominating smile curved over him as his eyes fastened on me.

"Uh, Rachel?" Jenks muttered as he flitted to Janine. "I'll see you inside, okay?"

I said nothing, suddenly feeling too thin and vulnerable.

"I'll save you a seat," Janine said, but I didn't look from my old boss. There was a soft rustle as the hallway emptied.

I had been scared of the man, and I was ready and willing to be scared of him now, but something had changed. Though still moving with the grace of a predator, the ageless look he once carried was gone. The hungry cast in his eye, which he didn't bother to hide, told me he was still a practicing vamp, but I was guessing he had lost favor and was no longer tasting the undead, though they were probably still feeding upon him.

"Morgan," he said, his words seeming to backwash against the brick wall behind me and give me a shove forward. His voice was just like him, practiced, powerful, and full of a heavy promise. "I heard you were whoring for the FIB. Or are we just bettering ourselves?"

"Hello, Mr. Denon," I said, not dropping his pupil-black eyes. "You get bumped down to runner?" The hungry lust in his eyes faltered into anger, and I added, "Looks like you're doing the runs you gave me. Rescuing familiars out of trees? Checking for valid licenses? How are those homeless bridge trolls doing, anyway?"

Denon shifted forward, his eyes intent and his muscles tense. My face went cold, and I found my back against the wall. The sun streaming in from the distant walkway seemed to dim. Like a kaleidoscope, it swirled to look twice as far away as it was. My heart leapt, then settled back into its usual pace. He was trying to pull an aura, but I knew he couldn't do it without me giving him the fear to feed it. I wouldn't be afraid.

"Cut the crap, Denon," I said boldly, my stomach knotting. "I live with a vamp who could eat you for breakfast. Save the aura for someone who cares."

Still, he pressed close until he was the only thing I could see. I had to look up, and it ticked me off. His breath was warm, and I could smell the tang of blood on it. My pulse pounded, and I hated that he knew I was afraid of him still.

"Anyone here but you and me?" he said, his voice as smooth as chocolate milk.

Hand moving in a slow, controlled motion, I reached for the grip of my splat gun. The brick scraped my knuckles, but as my fingers touched the handle, my confidence raced back. "Just you, me, and my splat gun. Touch me, and I'll drop you." I smiled right back at him. "What do you suppose I put in my splat balls? Might be kind of hard to explain why someone from the I.S. had to come out here and hose you off with saltwater, huh? I'd say that would be good for a laugh for at least a year." I watched his eyes shift to hate.

"Back up," I said clearly. "If I pull it, I use it."

He backed up. "Walk away from this, Morgan," he threatened. "This is my run."

"That explains why the I.S. is spinning its wheels. Maybe you should go back to ticketing parked cars and let a professional take care of it."

His breath hissed out, and I found strength in his anger. Ivy was right. There was fear in the back of his soul. Fear that someday the undead vampires that fed on him would lose control and kill him. Fear that they wouldn't bring him back as one of their brothers.

He should be afraid.

"This is an I.S. matter," he said. "Interfere, and I'll have you down in lockup." He smiled, flashing me his human teeth. "If you thought being in Kalamack's cage was bad, wait until you see mine."

My confidence cracked. The I.S. knew about that? "Don't get your falsies in a twist," I said snidely. "I'm here on a missing person, not your murders."

"Missing person," he mocked. "That's a good story. I'd stick with it. Try to keep your tag alive this time." He gave me a final glance before he started down the hallway to the sun and the distant sound of the commissary. "You won't be Tamwood's pet forever," he said, not turning around. "Then, I'm coming for you."

"Yeah, whatever," I said even as a sliver of my old fear tried to surface. I quashed it as I pulled my hand away from the small of my back. I wasn't Ivy's pet, though living with her gave me a heap of protection from Cincinnati's vamp population. She wasn't in a position of power, but as the last living member of the Tamwood family, she had a leader-in-waiting status honored by wise vamps both living and dead.

I took a deep breath to try to dispel the weakness in my knees. Great. Now I had to go into class after they had probably started.

Thinking my day couldn't possibly get any worse, I gathered myself and walked into the room lit brightly from the bank of windows overlooking the campus. As Janine had said, it was set up like a lab, with two people sitting on stools at each of the high slate tables. Janine was by herself talking to Jenks, clearly having saved me the spot next to her.

Ozone from Dr. Anders's hastily constructed circle caught at me. The circle was gone, but my sinuses tingled at the remnants of power. I glanced at its source at the front of the room.

Dr. Anders sat at an ugly metal desk before a traditional blackboard. She had her elbows on the table, her head in her hands. I could see her thin fingers trembling, and I wondered if it was from Denon's accusations or that she had pulled upon the ever-after strong enough to make a circle without the aid of a physical manifestation. The class seemed unusually quiet.

Her hair was back in a severe bun, gray streaks making unflattering lines through the black. She looked older than my mother, dressed in a conservative pair of tan slacks and a tasteful blouse. Trying not to draw attention to myself, I slipped past the first two rows of tables and sat beside Janine. "Thanks," I whispered.

Her eyes were wide as I tucked my bag under the table. "You work for the I.S.?"

I glanced at Dr. Anders. "I used to. I quit last spring."

"I didn't think you could quit the I.S.," she said, her face going even more full of wonder.

Shrugging, I pushed my hair out of the way so Jenks could land on his usual spot. "It wasn't easy." I followed her attention to the front of the room as Dr. Anders stood.

The tall woman was as scary as I remembered, with a long thin face, and a nose that wouldn't be out of place on a pre-Turn depiction of a witch. No wart, though, and her complexion wasn't green. She reeked of tenure, gathering the class's attention by simply standing. The tremor was gone from her hands as she took up a sheaf of papers.

Dropping a pair of wire-rimmed glasses down to perch on her nose, she made a show of studying her notes. I'd have been willing to bet they had a spell on them to see through ley line charms as well as correct her sight, and I wished I had the gall to put my own glasses on and see if she used ley line magic to make her look that unattractive or if it was all her. A sigh shifted her narrow shoulders as she looked up, her gaze going right to mine through her spelled glasses. "I see," she said, her voice making my spine crawl, "that we have a new face today."

I gave her a false smile. It was obvious she recognized me; her face had scrunched up like a prune.

"Rachel Morgan," she said.

"Here," I said, my voice flat.

A wisp of annoyance flashed over her. "I know who you are." Low heels clicking, she came to stand before me. Leaning forward, she peered at Jenks. "Who might you be, pixy sir?"

"Uh, Jenks, ma'am," he stammered, his wings moving fitfully to tangle in my hair.

"Jenks," she said, her tone bordering on the respectful. "I'm glad to make your acquaintance. You're not on my class list. Please leave."

"Yes ma'am," he said, and much to my surprise, the usually arrogant pixy swung himself off my earring. "Sorry, Rache," he said, hovering before me. "I'll be in the faculty lounge or the library. Nick might still be working."

"Sure. I'll find you later."

He gave Dr. Anders a head bob and zipped out the still open door.

"I'm sorry," Dr. Anders said. "Is my class interfering with your social life?"

"No, Dr. Anders. It's a pleasure seeing you again."

She pulled back at the faint sarcasm. "Is it?"

From the corner of my sight I saw Janine's mouth hanging open. What I could see of the rest of the class looked about the same. My face burned. I don't know why the woman had it in for me, but she did. She was as nice as a hungry crow to everyone else, but I got the ravenous badger.

Dr. Anders let her papers fall to my table with a slap. My name was circled in a thick red marker. Her thin lips tightened almost imperceptibly. "Why are you here?" she asked. "We are two classes into the semester."

"It's still add/drop week," I countered, feeling my pulse increase. Unlike Jenks, I had no problem fighting authority. But as the song went, authority always won.

"I don't even know how you managed to get the approval for taking this class," she said caustically. "You have none of the prerequisites."

"All my credits transferred in. And I got a year for life-experiences." True enough, but Edden was the real reason I had been able to skip right to a five-hundred-level class.

"You are wasting my time, Ms. Morgan," she said. "You are an earth witch. I thought I had made that very clear to you. You don't possess the control to work ley lines beyond what you need to close a modest circle." She leaned over me, and I felt my blood pressure rise. "I'm going to flunk you out of my class faster than before."

I took a steadying breath, glancing at the shocked faces. Clearly they had never seen this side of their beloved instructor. "I need this class, Dr. Anders," I said, not knowing why I was trying to appeal to her stunted compassion. Except that if I got kicked out, Edden might make me pay the tuition. "I'm here to learn."

At that, the prickly woman picked up her papers and retreated to the empty table behind her. Her gaze roved over the class before settling on me. "Having trouble with your demon?"

Several in the class gasped. Janine actually shrank away from me. Damn that woman, I thought, my hand going to cover my wrist. Not even here for five minutes, and she alienates me from the entire class. I should have worn a bracelet. My jaw clenched and my breathing increased as I fought to not respond.

Dr. Anders seemed satisfied. "You can't reliably hide a demon mark with earth magic," she said, her voice raised in the sound of instruction. "You need ley line magic for that. Is that why you're here, Ms. Morgan?" she mocked.

Shaking, I refused to drop her eyes. I hadn't known that. No wonder my charms to disguise it never worked past sundown.

Her wrinkles went deeper as she frowned. "Professor Peltzer's Demonology for Modern Practitioners is in the next building over. Perhaps you should excuse yourself and see if it's not too late to change classes. We do not deal in the black arts here."

"I am not a black witch," I said softly, afraid if I raised my voice, I would start shouting. I pushed up my sleeve to show my demon mark, refusing to be ashamed of it. "I did not call the demon who gave me this. I fought it off."

I took a slow breath, unable to look at anyone, most of all Janine, who had pushed as far from me as she could get. "I'm here to learn how to keep it off of me, Dr. Anders. I will not take any demonology classes. I'm afraid of them."

The last was a whisper, but I knew everyone heard. Dr. Anders seemed taken aback. I was embarrassed, but if it kept her off my case, then it was embarrassment well spent.

The woman's footsteps were loud as she clacked to the front of the room. "Go home, Ms. Morgan," she said to the blackboard. "I know why you're here. I did not kill my past students, and I take offense in your unsaid accusation."

And with that pleasant thought, she turned, flashing the class a tight-lipped smile. "If the rest of you will please retain your copies of eighteenth century pentagrams? We will be having a quiz on them Friday. For next week, I want you to go over chapters six, seven, and eight in your texts and to do the even practices at the end of each. Janine?"

At the sound of her name, the woman jumped. She had been trying to get a good look at my wrist. I was still shaking, my fingers trembling as I wrote down the assignment.

"Janine, you would do well to do the odds on chapter six, as well. Your control in releasing stored ley line energy leaves something to be desired."

"Yes, Dr. Anders," she said, white-faced.

"And go sit by Brian," she added. "You can learn more from him than Ms. Morgan."

Janine didn't hesitate. Before Dr. Anders had even finished, Janine picked up her purse and book, moving to the next table. I was left alone, feeling sick. Janine's borrowed chalk sat next to my book like a stolen cookie.

"I would also like to evaluate your linkages with your familiars on Friday, as we will be starting a section on long-term protection over the next few weeks," Dr. Anders was saying. "So please bring them in. It will take some time to get through all of you. Those at the end of the alphabet can expect to be held beyond the usual class time."

There was a weary groan from some of the students, but it lacked a certain joviality that I sensed was usually there. My stomach dropped. I didn't have a familiar. If I didn't get one by Friday, she'd flunk me. Same as last time.

Dr. Anders smiled at me with the warmth of a doll. "Is that a problem, Ms. Morgan?"

"No," I said flatly, starting to want to pin the murders on her whether she had committed them or not. "No problem at all."