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The dark-haired one never says a word, but his fingers trail up from my boot onto my calf, fingers skating under my pant leg making my breath hitch at his audacity. I open my mouth to admonish him, but someone growls behind me, “Ms. Radcliffe, are you ready to go? I’m escorting you and your dorm-mate to your lodgings.”
I look up to see Professor Vaughn scowling at the two boys. Green eyes steps back, holding his hands up in supplication, but the other boy keeps his on my body, earning a terrifying glare from Professor Vaughn. The dark-haired guy chuckles, as if amused by the open animosity emanating from his potential professor, but eventually relinquishes his hold on me. I march down, annoyed at all the testosterone, and smile in relief at the girl who joins me at my side. She’s lovely with dark brown hair and brown eyes, and she offers me a sweet grin in return. I’m convinced we’re going to get along great—until Professor Vaughn walks over, glancing tenderly at the other girl.
Unease stirs in my gut, but I do my best to remain civil. “Hi, I’m Remi.”
“So nice to meet you. I’m Bianca.” Her voice is soft and lilted, alerting me that she isn’t American. I reach out to shake her hand, but Professor Vaughn steps between us, his back to me.
“Shall we get going?”
“Yes,” Bianca answers for both of us, and without a backwards glance, the two of them glide out of the auditorium, leaving me to trail after them. Professor Vaughn points out certain buildings on campus, and Bianca holds onto his arm. Standing some feet behind them, they look like lovers out for a stroll. Secretly, I pray that an acorn smashes into either of their heads, but we get to our dorm house without incident.
The building before me is like all the others—massive and comprised of weathered stone covered in green ivy—the hallmark of any prestigious building. Inside, Professor Vaughn points out that there are three floors with four girls living on each. Bianca and I share a dorm room on the top floor, and Professor Vaughn leads the way upstairs, unlocking the double doors that lead into a shared living room area. There is a circular, marble table immediately in front of us with envelopes and a vase filled with dozens of colorful blooms that match the décor of the room.
Professor Vaughn picks up the sealed envelopes, handing one to Bianca and another to me. “Bee, your room is to the left. Ms. Radcliffe, yours is to the right. Dinner will be brought to your rooms tonight. I want you to rest up for tomorrow. It will be… not what you expect.”
His words are heavy with unspoken meaning that even Bianca doesn’t look like she understands. “What do you mean—” she starts, but Professor Vaughn cuts her off. “Just promise me you’ll rest and get the best night’s sleep so you can be ready for anything tomorrow—promise.”
“I promise.”
Bianca still looks confused, but Professor Vaughn seems mildly comforted with her vow. I’m surprised he doesn’t follow her into her room when she quietly pads away. Instead, he lingers, and I wonder what he’s waiting for.
“You should be more discreet,” my mouth chides before my brain understands that I’m speaking.
“Excuse me?” Professor Vaughn sneers, and instantly, my hackles rise.
“You heard me—I’m fairly certain student-teacher relations are not allowed, regardless of if we’re all adults.”
The man stalks closer, crowding into my space, pissing me off more. I’m short—really short, even in my heeled boots—and don’t appreciate when other people try to intimidate me because of it.
“I don’t believe it’s your place to tell me anything.”
“Oh, and what exactly is “my place”, then?”
“Keep baiting me and find out,” he snarls softly, and my breath quickens.
Opening my mouth to retort, Bianca startles me by peeping back out her door. “Is everything alright out here?”
“Yes. Professor Vaughn was just helping me.” The other woman crinkles her nose but nods, slipping back into her room, and I turn away from Vaughn to go to mine.
“Sleep tight, Ms. Radcliffe. You havenoidea what’s in store for you tomorrow.”
I snark back quickly. “You already said that.” Then I flip my long, golden curls over my shoulder in dismissal. “You don’t scare me, Professor Vaughn,” I taunt before pulling open the door to my room and going inside. Whispered words reach my ears, but when I look, the imposing man is already gone, making me question if he really said what I thought.
Shaking my head, I saunter over to the king-sized bed, trailing a finger over the silk brocade, eyeing the school-issued pajamas. I swear Professor Vaughn mutteredI’m not who you should fear, making me wonder who he meant. I fall into a fitful sleep, dreaming of two sets of hands restraining me while Professor Vaughn watches, his eyes alight with lust and power that glow ruby red in a demonic fashion. As I writhe under whoever is touching me, Professor Vaughn’s gaze grows brighter until I finally come, screaming his name, and he tips his head back, howling in victory.
I wake up to a sting in my right arm, sitting straight up and staring into the very eyes that haunted my dream.
Professor Vaughn is back, in my room, injecting me with something, and I realize that I lied.
I am afraid of him.
