I had been scared of the man, and I was ready and willing to be scared of him now, but something had changed. Though still moving with the grace of a predator, the ageless look he once carried was gone. The hungry cast in his eye, which he didn't bother to hide, told me he was still a practicing vamp, but I was guessing he had lost favor and was no longer tasting the undead, though they were probably still feeding upon him.
"Morgan," he said, his words seeming to backwash against the brick wall behind me and give me a shove forward. His voice was just like him, practiced, powerful, and full of a heavy promise. "I heard you were whoring for the FIB. Or are we just bettering ourselves?"
"Hello, Mr. Denon," I said, not dropping his pupil-black eyes. "You get bumped down to runner?" The hungry lust in his eyes faltered into anger, and I added, "Looks like you're doing the runs you gave me. Rescuing familiars out of trees? Checking for valid licenses? How are those homeless bridge trolls doing, anyway?"
Denon shifted forward, his eyes intent and his muscles tense. My face went cold, and I found my back against the wall. The sun streaming in from the distant walkway seemed to dim. Like a kaleidoscope, it swirled to look twice as far away as it was. My heart leapt, then settled back into its usual pace. He was trying to pull an aura, but I knew he couldn't do it without me giving him the fear to feed it. I wouldn't be afraid.
"Cut the crap, Denon," I said boldly, my stomach knotting. "I live with a vamp who could eat you for breakfast. Save the aura for someone who cares."
Still, he pressed close until he was the only thing I could see. I had to look up, and it ticked me off. His breath was warm, and I could smell the tang of blood on it. My pulse pounded, and I hated that he knew I was afraid of him still.
"Anyone here but you and me?" he said, his voice as smooth as chocolate milk.
Hand moving in a slow, controlled motion, I reached for the grip of my splat gun. The brick scraped my knuckles, but as my fingers touched the handle, my confidence raced back. "Just you, me, and my splat gun. Touch me, and I'll drop you." I smiled right back at him. "What do you suppose I put in my splat balls? Might be kind of hard to explain why someone from the I.S. had to come out here and hose you off with saltwater, huh? I'd say that would be good for a laugh for at least a year." I watched his eyes shift to hate.
"Back up," I said clearly. "If I pull it, I use it."
He backed up. "Walk away from this, Morgan," he threatened. "This is my run."
"That explains why the I.S. is spinning its wheels. Maybe you should go back to ticketing parked cars and let a professional take care of it."
His breath hissed out, and I found strength in his anger. Ivy was right. There was fear in the back of his soul. Fear that someday the undead vampires that fed on him would lose control and kill him. Fear that they wouldn't bring him back as one of their brothers.
He should be afraid.
"This is an I.S. matter," he said. "Interfere, and I'll have you down in lockup." He smiled, flashing me his human teeth. "If you thought being in Kalamack's cage was bad, wait until you see mine."
My confidence cracked. The I.S. knew about that? "Don't get your falsies in a twist," I said snidely. "I'm here on a missing person, not your murders."
"Missing person," he mocked. "That's a good story. I'd stick with it. Try to keep your tag alive this time." He gave me a final glance before he started down the hallway to the sun and the distant sound of the commissary. "You won't be Tamwood's pet forever," he said, not turning around. "Then, I'm coming for you."
"Yeah, whatever," I said even as a sliver of my old fear tried to surface. I quashed it as I pulled my hand away from the small of my back. I wasn't Ivy's pet, though living with her gave me a heap of protection from Cincinnati's vamp population. She wasn't in a position of power, but as the last living member of the Tamwood family, she had a leader-in-waiting status honored by wise vamps both living and dead.
I took a deep breath to try to dispel the weakness in my knees. Great. Now I had to go into class after they had probably started.
Thinking my day couldn't possibly get any worse, I gathered myself and walked into the room lit brightly from the bank of windows overlooking the campus. As Janine had said, it was set up like a lab, with two people sitting on stools at each of the high slate tables. Janine was by herself talking to Jenks, clearly having saved me the spot next to her.
Ozone from Dr. Anders's hastily constructed circle caught at me. The circle was gone, but my sinuses tingled at the remnants of power. I glanced at its source at the front of the room.
Dr. Anders sat at an ugly metal desk before a traditional blackboard. She had her elbows on the table, her head in her hands. I could see her thin fingers trembling, and I wondered if it was from Denon's accusations or that she had pulled upon the ever-after strong enough to make a circle without the aid of a physical manifestation. The class seemed unusually quiet.
Her hair was back in a severe bun, gray streaks making unflattering lines through the black. She looked older than my mother, dressed in a conservative pair of tan slacks and a tasteful blouse. Trying not to draw attention to myself, I slipped past the first two rows of tables and sat beside Janine. "Thanks," I whispered.
Her eyes were wide as I tucked my bag under the table. "You work for the I.S.?"
I glanced at Dr. Anders. "I used to. I quit last spring."
"I didn't think you could quit the I.S.," she said, her face going even more full of wonder.
Shrugging, I pushed my hair out of the way so Jenks could land on his usual spot. "It wasn't easy." I followed her attention to the front of the room as Dr. Anders stood.
The tall woman was as scary as I remembered, with a long thin face, and a nose that wouldn't be out of place on a pre-Turn depiction of a witch. No wart, though, and her complexion wasn't green. She reeked of tenure, gathering the class's attention by simply standing. The tremor was gone from her hands as she took up a sheaf of papers.
Dropping a pair of wire-rimmed glasses down to perch on her nose, she made a show of studying her notes. I'd have been willing to bet they had a spell on them to see through ley line charms as well as correct her sight, and I wished I had the gall to put my own glasses on and see if she used ley line magic to make her look that unattractive or if it was all her. A sigh shifted her narrow shoulders as she looked up, her gaze going right to mine through her spelled glasses. "I see," she said, her voice making my spine crawl, "that we have a new face today."
I gave her a false smile. It was obvious she recognized me; her face had scrunched up like a prune.
"Rachel Morgan," she said.
"Here," I said, my voice flat.
A wisp of annoyance flashed over her. "I know who you are." Low heels clicking, she came to stand before me. Leaning forward, she peered at Jenks. "Who might you be, pixy sir?"
"Uh, Jenks, ma'am," he stammered, his wings moving fitfully to tangle in my hair.
"Jenks," she said, her tone bordering on the respectful. "I'm glad to make your acquaintance. You're not on my class list. Please leave."
"Yes ma'am," he said, and much to my surprise, the usually arrogant pixy swung himself off my earring. "Sorry, Rache," he said, hovering before me. "I'll be in the faculty lounge or the library. Nick might still be working."
"Sure. I'll find you later."
He gave Dr. Anders a head bob and zipped out the still open door.
"I'm sorry," Dr. Anders said. "Is my class interfering with your social life?"
"No, Dr. Anders. It's a pleasure seeing you again."
She pulled back at the faint sarcasm. "Is it?"
From the corner of my sight I saw Janine's mouth hanging open. What I could see of the rest of the class looked about the same. My face burned. I don't know why the woman had it in for me, but she did. She was as nice as a hungry crow to everyone else, but I got the ravenous badger.
Dr. Anders let her papers fall to my table with a slap. My name was circled in a thick red marker. Her thin lips tightened almost imperceptibly. "Why are you here?" she asked. "We are two classes into the semester."
"It's still add/drop week," I countered, feeling my pulse increase. Unlike Jenks, I had no problem fighting authority. But as the song went, authority always won.
"I don't even know how you managed to get the approval for taking this class," she said caustically. "You have none of the prerequisites."
"All my credits transferred in. And I got a year for life-experiences." True enough, but Edden was the real reason I had been able to skip right to a five-hundred-level class.
"You are wasting my time, Ms. Morgan," she said. "You are an earth witch. I thought I had made that very clear to you. You don't possess the control to work ley lines beyond what you need to close a modest circle." She leaned over me, and I felt my blood pressure rise. "I'm going to flunk you out of my class faster than before."
I took a steadying breath, glancing at the shocked faces. Clearly they had never seen this side of their beloved instructor. "I need this class, Dr. Anders," I said, not knowing why I was trying to appeal to her stunted compassion. Except that if I got kicked out, Edden might make me pay the tuition. "I'm here to learn."
At that, the prickly woman picked up her papers and retreated to the empty table behind her. Her gaze roved over the class before settling on me. "Having trouble with your demon?"
Several in the class gasped. Janine actually shrank away from me. Damn that woman, I thought, my hand going to cover my wrist. Not even here for five minutes, and she alienates me from the entire class. I should have worn a bracelet. My jaw clenched and my breathing increased as I fought to not respond.
Dr. Anders seemed satisfied. "You can't reliably hide a demon mark with earth magic," she said, her voice raised in the sound of instruction. "You need ley line magic for that. Is that why you're here, Ms. Morgan?" she mocked.
Shaking, I refused to drop her eyes. I hadn't known that. No wonder my charms to disguise it never worked past sundown.
Her wrinkles went deeper as she frowned. "Professor Peltzer's Demonology for Modern Practitioners is in the next building over. Perhaps you should excuse yourself and see if it's not too late to change classes. We do not deal in the black arts here."
"I am not a black witch," I said softly, afraid if I raised my voice, I would start shouting. I pushed up my sleeve to show my demon mark, refusing to be ashamed of it. "I did not call the demon who gave me this. I fought it off."
I took a slow breath, unable to look at anyone, most of all Janine, who had pushed as far from me as she could get. "I'm here to learn how to keep it off of me, Dr. Anders. I will not take any demonology classes. I'm afraid of them."
The last was a whisper, but I knew everyone heard. Dr. Anders seemed taken aback. I was embarrassed, but if it kept her off my case, then it was embarrassment well spent.
The woman's footsteps were loud as she clacked to the front of the room. "Go home, Ms. Morgan," she said to the blackboard. "I know why you're here. I did not kill my past students, and I take offense in your unsaid accusation."
And with that pleasant thought, she turned, flashing the class a tight-lipped smile. "If the rest of you will please retain your copies of eighteenth century pentagrams? We will be having a quiz on them Friday. For next week, I want you to go over chapters six, seven, and eight in your texts and to do the even practices at the end of each. Janine?"
At the sound of her name, the woman jumped. She had been trying to get a good look at my wrist. I was still shaking, my fingers trembling as I wrote down the assignment.
"Janine, you would do well to do the odds on chapter six, as well. Your control in releasing stored ley line energy leaves something to be desired."
"Yes, Dr. Anders," she said, white-faced.
"And go sit by Brian," she added. "You can learn more from him than Ms. Morgan."
Janine didn't hesitate. Before Dr. Anders had even finished, Janine picked up her purse and book, moving to the next table. I was left alone, feeling sick. Janine's borrowed chalk sat next to my book like a stolen cookie.
"I would also like to evaluate your linkages with your familiars on Friday, as we will be starting a section on long-term protection over the next few weeks," Dr. Anders was saying. "So please bring them in. It will take some time to get through all of you. Those at the end of the alphabet can expect to be held beyond the usual class time."
There was a weary groan from some of the students, but it lacked a certain joviality that I sensed was usually there. My stomach dropped. I didn't have a familiar. If I didn't get one by Friday, she'd flunk me. Same as last time.
Dr. Anders smiled at me with the warmth of a doll. "Is that a problem, Ms. Morgan?"
"No," I said flatly, starting to want to pin the murders on her whether she had committed them or not. "No problem at all."