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I spent the whole weekend in bed, and my boyfriends were more than happy to bring me whatever I needed, from food and drinks, to ice cream, cheesecake, and books from the library. I felt extra lazy and like I needed a break. I couldn’t stop thinking about Francis.
On Monday, the first class was Psychology with Headmaster Colin. It was one of the classes we now only had with the VDC. Topic of the day: how to deal with abuse victims and reap their souls when their abuser has gone too far.
“Rule number one,” said Headmaster Colin. “Do not turn on the abuser. No matter how hard it is to fight your desire for justice, you will have to keep your head cool. If it’s not their time, then it’s not their time. Your focus must always be on the soul you are there to reap. And you, Violent Death Reapers, are uniquely qualified to reap the souls of the abused and the broken, to comfort them in their last moments, and sever their string of life gently, yet firmly.”
I shifted uncomfortably. How many times had I thought my father would finally snap and hit me or my mother just a little too hard? Or in the wrong place? Or that he’d miscalculate his physical strength and push me or her too harshly over some table or chair? And once you lost your balance, God knew what you could smash into before you hit the floor…
Headmaster Colin fixed us with his gaze, one at a time, to make sure we were on the same page. Psychology was going to be a freaking pain this year. As VDC, we were looking at some pretty nasty scenarios. And it was hard knowing our only purpose was to reap the soul of the one whose time had come, not the soul of the one we personally thought deserved to fucking die.
Someone snickered at the back of the class, and we all turned to see who it was. A vampire with dirty blond hair, eyes as blue as the sky on a cold morning, and cheekbones as sharp as blades.
“Mr. Delacroix, care to share with us?”
“I was just thinking… Sometimes, we Violent Reapers can get lucky and get a case where the abuser kills himself after.”
Headmaster Colin cocked an eyebrow. “That does happen. Unfortunately, it’s not very common. Either way, Mr. Delacroix, I believe the thought of such a tragic event shouldn’t make us laugh. Remember: no matter whose soul we reap, we must do it gently and respectfully.”
“Sorry, Headmaster Colin.”
The professor smiled indulgently and went back to his notes. He usually had to tell us so much in class, that if he didn’t follow his lesson plan, we’d end up with pages and pages of information, and not one good strategy to comb through them and extract the essentials.
“Moving on, what do we do when the victim clings to life, but we know it’s their time and we can’t spare them? There are three ways we, as Grim Reapers, can go about this…”
The sound of the door being thrown open so hard that it banged against the wall cut him off mid-sentence and made us all jump two feet in the air. Metaphorically speaking, of course. My heart beat so wildly that I reached over my desk and grabbed Pazuzu’s hand. One firm squeeze, and I felt better.
“Mila!”
I blinked at the man who’d just barged into our classroom in such a rude manner. What the hell? Who was he? How did he know my name?
Headmaster Colin tried to stop him. “What is happening? Whatever it is, I believe it can wait,” he said in a polite, yet firm enough voice. “We’re in the middle of a lesson.”
“Mason, come on! You know I can barely find a free minute these days! I can’t wait around for you to finish your…” He waved his hand dismissively. “... whatever this is.”
Headmaster Colin cleared his throat. “Psychology.”
“Oh, you still teach that? I would’ve thought you’d want to move on to something more interesting by now.” He shrugged and turned his back to him, his blue eyes fixing on me once again. “My beautiful daughter. At last…”
I blinked twice, then my eyes went as wide as saucers when I finally realized who he was. He was tall, well-built, with long, graceful limbs, broad shoulders, and lean muscles. He was dressed in black from head to toe – elegant shirt, perfectly-cut dress pants, and a long cloak that covered his shoulders and his back and touched the heels of his expensive shoes as he walked. His scythe was slightly taller than him, and he held it in his left hand, with confidence. His hair was light blond, tied neatly in a low ponytail, and his eyes were of an intense blue.
He took a step toward me, and I instinctively jumped out of my seat and took two steps back.
Valentine Morningstar.
He was here, right in front of me, my real, biological father, and I was acting like a mad person who didn’t know where to hide or run. He beamed at me and walked swiftly to my desk. I took another step back, and my hip hit Sariel’s desk. For some reason, he’d chosen to sit behind me today.
“Mila. Oh my God, look at you! I should have been there. I should have been there to watch you grow. Will you ever forgive me?”
But there was no real apology in his eyes. In fact, his whole expression was in stark contrast with his words. I tried to smile and failed. I couldn’t manage more than a grimace, and my voice seemed to be just as uncooperative as my face muscles, because I opened my mouth to say something, and nothing came out. So I closed it and waited to see what would happen next. Face-to-face with my father for the first time, and my gut told me there was one word to describe him: unpredictable. His whole personality was built on his unpredictability.
“Mila, come here.” He threw his scythe at Pazuzu, who caught it, closed the space between us, and drew me into a tight hug. Discreetly, he smelled the top of my head, and the much-too-intimate gesture made me freeze in place. “I’ve missed you so much!”
Really?! I wanted to push him away, but that seemed inappropriate. I looked around. The shock on the VDC students’ faces said everything. The only ones who weren’t shocked, – just surprised and curious, – were Pazuzu and GC. Francis was staring at me and Valentine with furrowed brows, as if he was trying to make sense of the scene but wasn’t quite managing. I couldn’t see Sariel, since he was behind me.
“I think about you every day,” Valentine said, squeezing me tighter. “There isn’t a moment when you’re not on my mind.”
Okay, that’s it. And you expect me to believe this total BS? I pushed him away gently. There was no point in making more of a scene, so I mostly pulled at his cloak, trying to make him understand that it was time for him to get the hell off.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” I managed. Which was ridiculous! One, I did know what to say. Liar! And two, since when was it okay for a stranger to just invade someone’s personal space like that, hug them without their approval? And no, it didn’t matter that I was, allegedly, his daughter.
