Page 41 of Bone Year

Lux nods. “He fought in it, and that’s why he’s always saying Veilguards need to be trained to be tougher, not just healers.”

She makes a frown that shows all of her bottom teeth. I smile at the expression but look back to the empty courtyard as we wait for Professor Bale to show up.

“You could have warned us,” I grumble. “I would have stretched more or faked an illness.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” She bumps her shoulder against mine.

Jace leans closer to me, his hand brushing my lower back. “I’ll be right here.” He tugs me closer to him. “Someone has to drag you to the infirmary.”

“My angel,” I tease then slap his chest.

“Always.” He winks.

Ellavee makes a gagging sound. “If you two are going to be disgusting, can you do it downwind? Some of us have sensitive stomachs.”

“We’re not—” I hold up my hands. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends. We grew up together.”

“Sure.” Ellavee picks at her nails. “Friends, that’s what they all say right before they start making out in supply closets.”

“There will be no supply closet making out.”

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.” She examines her cuticles. “Carry on then.”

Jace catches my eye, and there’s something in his expression, a flicker of hurt or hope. I look away before I have to figure out which one.

Professor Bale.

Lux’s dad. A fae who was a fighter. A Vanguard over one hundred years old.

Wow.

I glance around and quickly realize this isn’t like my other classes.

There’s a mix of students here, mostly bone years but also blood years scattered through the crowd. I see their red emblems, the heart and serpent symbols against black leather. This is the first class I’ve had where the years are combined. I thought the headmaster said all years were kept separate. Or did I assume that?

This is the most students I’ve seen in one place since orientation. There must be at least sixty people here.

I spot Draven and Malric standing together in the back. It makes sense now why they hang out. Different years but they must have known each other before, both vampires and all. Zuri and Killian are here too.

“Why is this such a large class?” I ask Lux under my breath.

“Triage of the Damned is mandatory for all students, and my dad’s the only one who teaches it.” She keeps her voice low. “He mixes upperclassmen into his first year classes so they can help when he needs it, and I think they like to keep their skills sharp.”

“Wonderful. So we get to be the practice dummies for blood years.”

“Basically.” Her grin doesn’t reach her eyes. “Welcome to my childhood.”

One second we’re all staring into an empty courtyard, and the next a man is standing before us. Pointed ears. Same startling blue eyes as his daughter.

“He likes to make an entrance,” Lux groans.

He’s tall and broad in the shoulders but lean everywhere else, like anything unnecessary got carved away a long time ago. He doesn’t look a hundred and fifty years old, but there are signs of age, gray hairs around the temples.

He doesn’t greet us. His face isn’t cruel exactly but hard in a way that suggests warmth left him a long time ago.

“You’re here because you think you want to save lives.” His voice carries across the courtyard and echoes off the magical ceiling. “But saving lives isn’t pretty or noble, and most of you aren’t ready for what it takes.”

He sounds like a military man already.