Heart of Glass [manxman]

Chapter One

102 years later...

Masks helped us hide just as easily as they helped us reveal our true selves.

Honesty came easier with anonymity, it was a fact. When someone knew that they could say whatever they wanted, act in their truest manner, and no one would ever find out, they were more inclined to do as they pleased—they were more inclined to show their true colors. And perhaps that was the reason I'd hung up my mask.

"It's about being nonexistent," I said, staring into the sea of naive, third-year faces. "Become nothing, prepare yourself to accept the void. If you can't handle a little darkness, then you sure as hell can't handle this department."

The students would have to start thinking seriously about choosing which department they'd go into the following year. All students were required to take classes in each department to sample everything, so I always ended up with those that had no place whatsoever in my department—demonic assassination. "Saturday is this year's opening ceremony. I realize that you're only third-years, but you are all expected to attend. A fair will be held shortly after and you can meet with any professor you choose to discuss your preferred department. As the assassination chair, if you're considering this field, I don't care who you talk to, but you need to talk to me at some point. I make the final call, and I already know a few of you have no place in this department, so let me tell you whether you're suitable or not before you put too much work into something fruitless." I glanced at the clock and a low hum echoed through the room, signaling the end of class.

The students jumped from their chairs, eagerly collecting their things. "Your history of rifle mechanics papers are due Monday," I said as a parting shot as they began crowding around the door, fighting to get as far away from my lecture as possible.

I rolled my eyes as the last few students trickled out, and I turned to gather my things so the next group could get into the room. Soft footsteps came through the door. As I glanced up, I saw Louis Blanc—the chair of the espionage department—hovering in the doorway.

"Can I help you?" I asked, cocking a brow at him. While he provided eye candy during faculty meetings, he had a knack for pissing me off with his overly friendly demeanor, and when he wasn't acting like a kiss-ass, he was acting like a self-righteous prick.

"You really don't like the younger students," he said, staring at me. He was about my height, maybe half an inch taller with dirty blond hair and hazel eyes. He was broader than me with sun-kissed skin wrapped tightly over hard, lean muscle. He would be infinitely more fuckable if he just wouldn't open his mouth.

"Not particularly." We'd had that argument before. Apparently, some group of idiot second-years had gone running to him after I'd been honest with them about the dangers of going into assassination. According to Louis, I'd been 'too brutal.' But that wasn't possible. They wanted to do something that would cost them their fucking lives, that would force them to compromise their morals, souls, and spirits. It wasn't as easy as arming them and gesturing to their target. "They're undecided, careless, and even worse, they tattle to you," I said. "There's nothing about them to like."

"Everyone has to start out somewhere, Alexei. They're still learning."

"Still learning how to piss me off in innovative ways," I muttered, turning to finish gathering my things. I still had another lecture, a training session, and a brief rehearsal for the opening ceremony with my upper level students. There were far more important things to do than to sit there and argue with Louis about my piss-poor management of younger students. "Anyway, unless you're here for something aside from raising my blood-pressure, I have papers to grade, a rehearsal to prepare, and some fourth-years that need their first stern talking to about how to shoot a gun." I turned, tucking my pile of books and papers between my chin, chest, and hands.