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I might have felt sorry for him—after all, since Griffin had marked me with his blood, I certainly knew the frustration of having to tell the truth when I would much rather dissemble. But the ugly things Sanchez was saying killed any pity I might have had for him. After hearing that he had hit Kaitlyn on purpose and thought it was funny, I felt like he deserved everything he had coming to him.
And from the look in Headmistress Nightworthy’s flashing blue eyes, what was coming wasn’t going to be pleasant.
“I see.” She nodded, her lips a thin white line in her ageless face. “Did you know, Mr. Sanchez, that Kaitlyn Fellows lost both her parents in a fire just two years ago? She received third degree burns over three quarters of her body and the extensive scarring which you find so funny, has been untreatable, though both modern Norm medicine and the best and most complicated Healing magic have been tried. She lost her family and her beauty in one awful night and you tell me you find it ‘hilarious’ to hurt her and jeer at her?”
Sanchez shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably but the truth spell was still on him.
“I can’t help what happened to her,” he growled angrily. “It’s not my fault she got turned into a freak! And if you ask me, she shouldn’t be here. Unsightly females shouldn’t be allowed in view of the public!”
“I am very well aware of the Drake culture’s misogynistic views towards females who are considered ‘less than perfect.’” The Headmistress’s voice was icy. “But I will not tolerate such behavior at my school. Nocturne Academy is built on the idea that Others of all types can come together and get an education without fear of being bullied or belittled.”
“But she’s not even an Other,” Sanchez snarled. “She’s just an ugly little Norm!”
Ms. Radcliff threw the Headmistress a surprised look.
“The girl in question is a Norm? I didn’t know you were allowing Norms to attend classes with our children here, Headmistress Nightworthy.” Her voice was stiff with disapproval.
The Headmistress gave her a cool look that was easy to read—back off, this is my territory.
“We have a few Norm students,” she said. “Norms whom I feel show promise and talent and who need a safe place to grow.” She fixed Sanchez with her penetrating blue gaze again. “Which is precisely why Kaitlyn Fellows was admitted here. Hearing that you have hurt and bullied her in what I hoped would be a safe place, well, Mr. Sanchez, I cannot adequately express my rage.”
Wow. Not anger but rage. It was a strong word and the look on the Headmistress’s face backed it up. Her blue eyes were narrowed and her fangs were out—long and sharp—the same way Griffin’s got when he thought I was being threatened.
I bit my lip and took a silent step back, glad I wasn’t the one she was glaring at.
“I…um…it’s not my fault,” he said again, weakly. “And you shouldn’t have let her in here anyway,” he added with renewed belligerence. “Nobody oughta have to see her ugly face!”
“That is not your concern any longer, Mr. Sanchez, since you personally will not be seeing Kaitlyn anymore,” the Headmistress snapped. “As of this minute, you are expelled from Nocturne Academy. You are to go at once. Do not even stop to pack your things—they will be sent to you.”
“What?” Sanchez exploded. “But what about my face? What about this fucking mark? If it was a battle scar, it wouldn’t make a difference but this is a goddamned shame mark!”
He stabbed one finger at his left cheek, which was nearly purple with anger. My handprint stood out like a signpost on his face—a tattooed warning of what he really was inside—ugly.
Headmistress Nightworthy gazed at the mark for a moment.
“Considering your people’s feelings about facial deformities and the way those who are marked in any way are looked down on in your culture, I would say that is a fitting punishment. Maybe wearing it will allow you to empathize with your victim and see what it feels like to be ridiculed for something which is outside of your control.”
“You…you can’t do this to me!” Sanchez sputtered. “You’re supposed to fix this—not throw me out! My Sire paid a shit-ton of money to send me here!”
“So he did,” Headmistress Nightworthy said coolly. “But the cost of your tuition does not include the right to bully and belittle another student—especially one so vulnerable. You should be ashamed of yourself, Mr. Sanchez.” She glared at him. “I know I am certainly ashamed of you and if your Sire has any kind of honor—which I know your people value greatly—I believe he will be ashamed of you too. Now go!”
She pointed to the black door of her office, which opened on its own, as if in response to her voice.
