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I couldn’t help it, which was so, so unhealthy for me. I raised my hand.
“Mila.” The tightness in his voice signaled he hated to be interrupted. I already knew that about him.
“Sorry, I just have to ask. Are we going to study the Medieval Inquisition? As far as I know, the witches they burned weren’t supernaturals. They persecuted, burned, and hanged their own people.” That was one of two things I wasn’t proud of when it came to humans. The second one was our hobby called ‘making war’. Other than that, – and knowing the supernatural world a bit better now, – it was all good. Being human wasn’t all that bad.
“No.”
“Oh.”
“Everyone here knows the Inquisition killed humans, not supernaturals. Next time you feel the urge to show us how smart you are, Miss Morningstar, please abstain. That’s 10 worth points.”
Whaaaat?! He just took 10 points from me because I asked a simple question?
“Moving on…” He turned away and looked at Francis, then at Merrit, Raziel, Caspian. Okay, I was finally starting to get it. He was going to ignore me, GC, and Pazuzu in every class he had with us. Fine. “We’re going to study the real history between humans and supernaturals. They staked our vampires, exorcised our demons, led our archangels into sin, caught our pixies and sold their skeletons to museums.” As if he cared about pixies! Also, what museums? Where? I was pretty sure this was just an urban myth, not history. “We’re going to be brave and look reality in the face. Humans are a plague. They have no powers, no skills, yet they work on this mind-blowing premise that they’re the most important beings on this planet. They don’t respect life, be it theirs or someone else’s, and their only true aptitude is that they breed like no other species on Earth. They have always outnumbered us, but the fact that they are many does not make them right. It’s time to look at their misdeeds and learn who we’re dealing with every day. Humans are not our friends. They are controlled by their fears, and when fear takes the wheel of their brain and emotions, no act against the supernatural world is too abominable.”
A knot formed in my throat. I looked around me. Some of the VDC students shot me dark glances when they thought Headmaster Morningstar wasn’t looking. I gulped. My phone buzzed in the pocket of my uniform blazer.
“this some bullshit hang in there”
GC, with his non-existent punctuation. I smiled and hid the phone quickly. Oh, this class was going to be hard. And we had it twice a week.
* * *
Finally, Psychology with Professor Colin, and then Literature with Professor Lovecraft. Even if Lovecraft’s theories about the Great Old Ones had proved useless so far, I didn’t give up hope. I couldn’t. I couldn’t live in a world where there were monsters sleeping and dreaming in the ground, asking for human sacrifices. A world where cultists, like Francis and his family, worshipped these beings and fed them in exchange for immortality. Francis was just honoring a long tradition, or that was what I liked to believe. If I found a way to kill his Great Old One, then I knew he wouldn’t stand in my way. Not even if it meant losing his life. Francis Saint-Germain was a good guy. The fact that he sometimes did heinous things didn’t change that. Right?
Right. I was just lying to myself. A cute, harmless lie so I could sleep at night. Not that I slept very well lately. Dream after dream, until the alarm clock went off in the morning. I didn’t pay much attention at first, but when the dreams started chipping away at my energy and sanity, I started considering talking to Professor Colin about some therapy sessions. If my father allowed it, that was. I doubted Valentine wanted me sane.
I sat at a desk between Pazuzu and GC. It was the closest I could get to them these days. Professor Colin entered the classroom, placed the textbook on his desk, and came to the front, hands tucked behind his back. He was wearing a well-fitted suit and a light cloak over his shoulders. The cloak was overkill, but I guessed he thought it reminded everyone he was a mage. It did.
“Today, we’ll work in groups of four.”
I thought I hadn’t heard him right. I stole a glance at GC, and the look on his face told me he thought the same. The Unseelie guard standing in the back of the class grunted in disapproval. That should have been enough to make Professor Colin change his mind, but instead, it made him turn to the fay and address him in a calm, firm tone.
“Mr. Galio, rest assured that I know what your orders are. However, this is a class activity and it does not go against the rules. You must understand that in Psychology, it’s important for my students to work together and develop their empathy and communication skills. Their line or work will often put them in situations when a good heart-to-heart will save lives.”
“I thought a heart-to-heart was between two people. Not four,” the Unseelie guard retorted in a low, grave voice that made chills run up my spine. Crassus was waiting for me outside the classroom, since there was no reason for two guards to watch over a bunch of students and a disgraced ex-Headmaster. Come to think of it, my Unseelie bodyguard was less scary than Mr. Galio.
“And you are correct. However, this is a more creative activity. Allow me to explain it to my students.” He took out a marker and started exemplifying on the white board. “One of you will play the victim who’s having dark thoughts and wants to end their life. Another one will play the Grim Reaper, of course. And I want the other two students to play the good voice and the bad voice, because Reapers are beings too, with feelings, wounds, fears, with their own problems. The Reaper will listen to these two voices, who will argue their stance, one for the positive and one for the negative, and then decide how to talk to the victim.”
I cocked an eyebrow. For real? What was this? Kindergarten? We were much too advanced for this exercise. It might have worked in year one, but in year three?!
Professor Colin pointed at me. I sat up straight at my desk, wondering why he was singling me out.
“Let’s say Mila is the victim. She calls for a Grim Reaper to sever her string of life…”
What a nice euphemism for trying to commit suicide.
“Mr. Apis is the Grim Reaper, and then… Hm.” He wasn’t actually thinking about it on the spot. He was just pretending. “Mr. Saint-Germain will be the good voice in her head, and Mr. Eremus will be the bad voice.”
“Because I’m a demon. That makes sense.” Pazuzu chuckled.
“Come on, get closer. Join your tables. Let’s try out this scenario.”
For the next five minutes, we showed the Unseelie guard how Professor Colin’s exercise worked. Since Galio’s job was to make sure the rules were respected and not to keep me away from my boyfriends, he didn’t protest. Eventually, he gave his consent, and the other VDC students were encouraged to form groups.
“The perks of the Unseelie doing one job at a time,” I whispered. I briefly wondered why Crassus had stayed outside. Was he having a bad day? Was I just being lucky?
“They can do more,” said Francis, “But they have to be paid for them separately, on separate contracts.”
