Chapter Three

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I'M ALREADY REGRETTING MY DECISION.

At the time it had felt the most plausible. Why wouldn't I want to seek refuge in a place designed for people like me? Plus, I'd garnered a significant amount of stress as I'd watched the Nephilim stalk into the hospital intent on eradicating my existence. So, at that impulsive moment, the Academy sounded like Faerie music which I'd happily dance to till my feet bled.

However, as I've been sitting cramped in the back of this minivan for hours, I'm starting to feel a little swell of doubt settle like a stone in my stomach.

Alastair sits cozily in the driver's seat, veering around sharp corners and mumbling incoherent words to a song spluttering through an old stereo. I lean forward and pat his shoulder, "remind me why I have to sit back here?"

"It's for your own protection and ours," Alastair says, throwing a quick glance over his shoulder. "We don't let the students get any idea of where the Academy is so there is no way of tracing its origin."

My eyebrows furrow deeper. "But, how would anyone trace its origin?"

The atmosphere plummets as Alastair inhales sharply. A strange look perceivably flits across his face, quicker than a curtain closing and it soon disappears. "If a Nephilim were to find an Otherworlder," Alastair begins slowly. "They might begin to question them and — this is only a cautionary provision we have to take — we hide the location of the school, so that said Otherworlder cannot reveal its location in exchange for their safety."

There's a small pause where his words lingers between us, cultivating embers of dread to flicker in my stomach. "So if someone gets tortured for information, you want to make sure this place doesn't spring to mind?" I echo, feeling my head drift lightly at the mere thought.

Alastair nods. "Yes. That is correct."

Sitting back, a sickly feeling murmurs in my stomach, shuffling until I feel like I'm going to throw up. It's not nice to have the sudden reminder that there is a race of people seeking for your entire destruction. And that they'd go to any lengths in order to do it.

I shake my head to remove those thoughts. "Can I at least know how long we have until we're there?" I ask. "I'm getting cramp."

"It'll be soon."

Sighing, I slide down my seat and shuffle my hood over my head. If I was going to have to persevere through another few hours, I might as well do it asleep.

...

"We're here."

I shuffle, aches threading through my limbs and making them sore. When my eyes peel open Alastair is staring at me expectantly and I flash him an odd look. "Stop it," I tell him.

He frowns. "Sorry."

Ignoring him, I tentatively begin to exit the van. Unease travels through my gut, tying it in knots. I'm nervous of what I'm getting myself into, I'm truly walking into something blind. And that doesn't sit well with me.

But that is all forgotten when I set eyes on the Academy. It's structure is near gothic — and gives me a striking reminder to Hogwarts. Windows are stained with dull colours and the entrance doors are a large brown oak with special golden carved doorhandles. Gargoyles are stationed at each peek, peering down like keen guards waiting for an attack.

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