Senior English was my last class of the day, and my eyes kept drifting closed as the teacher droned on. I felt slightly jealous of Nick, who slept on the desk next to me, a thin trail of drool spilling down his lip.
Nick had been out of it all day, his eyes barely open through our first couple of classes before he gave up trying and burring his head in his arms. During lunch, I had looked up the moon transitions. The full moon would happen Monday night, three days from four days from now. He would transition soon after. He had to.
The bell rang and Nick sat up, his neck cracking as he looked around, eyes bulging. "What the hell am I doing here?" He asked as the teacher swiveled to glare at him. "I was just in the library."
"I'm afraid you fell asleep halfway through class and no one had the heart to disturb you."
He turned to me, accusations written all over his face. "Yeah, right. You just wanted to see me suffer. You're a horrible friend."
"Sorry." I patted his back as we finally left class, the tight-bunned teacher closing the door behind us, "You're the one who chose to befriend the new girl."
"Well, no one else wanted to take my side in the Human-Coth debate. I needed at least one ally here."
You have no idea. My expression twisted into a bitter resting face. It was remarkable how narrow-minded people were. I thought the anti-coth humans were a rarity. That was my bias, growing up with a family absent from humans. I suppose I would never understand how other species interacted, not if I stayed locked in the manor.
Nick and I continued to weave our way to the dorms before our path was blocked by Cassey, who had revealed herself to be a popular student in the last two days. It had only taken that long for the entire school to turn their noses up and whisper 'witch' in my wake.
Today her hair was done up in a ponytail, a few clips holding her bangs out of the way. She must have hurried to dart in front of us because her usually perfect hair was slightly scruffy, a few loose bangs escaping from their restraints.
"Sybil," she said. I stopped, letting one hip jut out so I could rest my books on it, "I saw you sneaking around on the grounds last night. Maybe I should tell the principal, let her make heads or tails of it."
I gave Cassey a long, hard look. One of the six dorm students staring me down. From what I gathered, her father was a politician who spent a lot of time campaigning and chose to leave her at school. That also meant she was my problem.
"Hey, Cass. My name is Lexi." That was how the majority of our conversations started. So far, we were right on track.
"I don't care. What were you doing last night?"
"I went to town," I explained, knowing full well walking away would have caused her to blow up. "Couldn't find my way back. Is that so hard to understand?"
Cassey's face went red, her cheeks puffing slightly as she glared daggers at me.
"I don't know why they let you stay here; you're a witch and it says in the school code that any Coth have to identify themselves." Cassey leaned on the row of lockers, tapping her nails on the metal.
I huffed. "I know. I read and signed the terms and conditions. If I don't identify myself, I'll be expelled. Good thing I'm not a witch." I rolled my eyes, looking over her shoulder and making it obvious I had other places to be.
"I'll prove you're one." Cassey turned, her ponytail snapping behind her. "You watch."
I rolled my eyes as she stormed away. For as smart as she thought she was, she knew nothing of my world. Her experience was limited, but that was no excuse.
"So, are you a witch?" Nick asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't want to ask before, but Cassey seems sure, and honestly, I wondered. I won't tell." He hurried on when he saw my dead look, "I really don't care."
"No. And that's the honest truth."
"If you say so." Nick turned down the men's hall, propping the door open with his foot as he glanced back at me. "I'll see you tomorrow for free time?"
"I'll be in the library," I agreed.
I bumped the door to my room open, working off the tie knotted around my neck. I couldn't stand the formal uniform, but it was a necessary piece of the disguise.
I left my backpack forgotten on my desk. No one would care that my grades were poor if I was gone in the blink of an eye.
The sharp night air filled my lungs as I skipped down the ladder, my feet thumping on the grass. It was heavenly to be out of the stuffy dorms where I could work off the food I had eaten and grind out the knots from sitting all day in an unyielding chair.
My suitcase fell victim to my desperate ravaging for something comfortable to replace my uniform. I couldn't believe they forced the girls to wear skirts. It was so impractical and uncomfortable. If I had to stay for more than two weeks, I would send the school board a letter.
The campus was located on a secluded edge of town where manors and a large river divided the upper and lower classes. That also meant I had a long walk if I wanted to dip into any of the clubs and hangouts I had discovered in the last week.
It wasn't an open campus but as my Uncle Finn always said, 'rules change, and people die.' It sounded like something a murderer would say, but I liked to interpret it as 'I do what I want, and no one can punish me.'
I kicked around in the bushes that circled the gates, pulling out the beaten-down bike I used for transport. On my way home the previous night, I noticed the bike's faded red paint in one of the many trash cans. I wasn't picky, and it helped me get around.
The streets were silent as I pedaled down the center of the desolate road. Thin beams of light shone from each house, just enough to see by and find the bridge standing defiantly above the churning waters of the river.
It was a pretty place with the moon shining off the rumbling waters, the sound of a perfect white noise. I thought about sending a clipping of it to Kiri, something she could play when reading or sleeping, but I decided it was probably not the best time to text her out of the blue.
Still, the churning water offered a pleasant reminder.
I climbed through the tunnel. The mist that collected inside of the walls was damp, and I will call my nose of the overwhelming smell of mildew. I had to pay tribute to her side of the location. No human would voluntarily come down here.
Water dripped on my head, and my feet sent waves of water racing down the dimly lit tunnel. Bile rose in my throat as I passed a point where the storm drain must have met the sewers. I couldn't imagine having a wolf or vamps' nose with the ungodly stink.
Just as I decided the smell was going to kill me, I took the last turn and met the entrance to The Club. The thick steel wall and a thin slit of metal at eye level completed the hidden club aesthetic.
I pounded on the rusty metal and waited as the slip was pulled back, filling the tunnel with music, and a pair of silvery eyes studied me. It had to be a banshee with the long white hair framing her face. She looked me up and down before sliding the grate shut.
The door opened with an exaggerated groan, the music blaring and echoing against the walls. I climbed through the porthole.
"You're a witch?"
I nodded, not willing to debate the truth of that statement.
The door slammed closed behind me and the tension in my shoulders disappeared. It was always a relief to get to a place where every eye wasn't on me. At least here, no one knew I was a Morill.
What would it have been like if I had grown up without the constant critiques and vigilance? Probably easier, but I am who I am because of it. I wish it had been easier, but I couldn't change it.
I dropped my coat at one of the nameless racks. With a quick move, I undid my hair, letting it fall around my tank, and merged with the crowd, eyes fleeting between people I brushed into.
The clientele presented an intricate mix of aesthetics. The wolves seemed to enjoy sturdier clothes, vampire-made traditionally, and more silky cloth for shifters, mers, and others, fluid-like they were. If I didn't know how to identify them, I could count on the clothes. It was like the shirts we wore at the manor, but these were more personal. They were proudly saying: this is who I am, like it or not.
The way they grouped together also told me what they were. Most moved alone, but the wolves didn't. Wolves moved together. It was impossible to find one without another close by. That's why I had trouble believing Nick's dad fathered a kid without anyone in the area having a clue.
I must have been watching for five minutes when the lighting darkened, reminding me where I was, what I was here to do. I could enjoy the party after business was done.
I noticed Anya's knotted buns near the bar, the rest of her coming into view a moment later. With a short skirt and cropped shirt, she fit into the club like it was a second home.
"Anya." I slid into the place next to her at the bar. "I'm happy to see you're here."
Her eyes went wide, hands clapping together. "I'm happy you found it after being cooped up at that awful school."
"Tell me about it." I laughed, filling out a slip for a drink and adding it to the small pile on the counter. "I can't believe that no one told me about this place when I was sent out here."
"The adults know about it, but as long as we keep it alcohol and drug-free they look the other way. It was either that or we'd party in the woods where humans would see and run us out of town."
"Trust me, I get that. This town is god awful, can't wait to be rid of it."
A haggard-faced bartender read my slip and mixed the drink. He handed it to me, and I took a long, greedy sip. The spices were heavenly and so very different from the cafeteria. I grew up a witch; spices and herbs dictated my meals.
"I did some digging around. That's why I wanted to postpone our meeting." Anya smirked and my nerves shot as dull apprehension took over.
"What did you find out?" I asked, swirling my drink.
"Well, first of all, I don't think you're just here to help a friend. I did some research and found out Nick's mom is Charlotte Tristen. He isn't someone a witch would be friends with. Your hairpin as well, it's a rose."
"So?" I bit off the word. She had me cornered and we both knew it.
"The rose is the Morill crest. I also talked to Alpha Daniel, and he said there was a little-known daughter of the late Mother witch who fits your description. She's you, isn't she? Alexis Morill?"
"And if I was?" I took another drink, the glass in my hand shaking.
"I'd ask you to be honest. I don't really care, but it would help if we were on the same page." Anya cocked an eyebrow. "Don't you think?"
I regarded her before nodding. "Yeah, I guess that would be fair."
"Then who are you, really?"
"Alexis Morill, last direct descendent from the Morill line." I held out my hand. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise. What do you want me to do for Nick?"
"I was going to ask Alpha Daniel if he knew a way to speed up a transition or force a shift? He only has a few days before he's eighteen and it would be awful if he shifted at school."
"How do you know he will shift?" Anya kept her voice soft as she picked at her palm. "He might not, you know. I have friends like that."
"I've watched him, and it seems like he is. Other than the glasses, he seems to have better senses and behaves similar to my distant cousins."
"The Morill family pack?"
"Yeah. It seems to add up, but I guess we'll have to wait to see if he does shift."
"Not exactly," she said, and my eyes flew to Anya. "If I'm near him as a wolf, I should be able to tell if he has one inside him. It's easy."
"You can do that?" My mouth fell open as I stared at the woman.
"For a Morill, you're pretty sheltered." Anya laughed. "I should be able to tell. Besides, being around other wolves helps transformation come out early. Why do you think wolves always have packs?"
"I always thought it was a family thing," I admitted. I should have known this. Uncle too. It would have been much easier to help Nick. I could have skipped trying to find Alpha Daniel and asked one of my cousins to visit.
"Well, it's not. The best I can do is arrange a meeting and assess the kid."
"That's probably the best. The woods behind the school should work, do you agree?"
"As long as I don't have to go into that school." She offers her hand, and I took it.
Anya had nothing to lose. She could gain a new pack member, be honored in her Alpha's eyes, and a Morill would owe her a favor. It would have been foolish to turn it down.
"Give me the time and place and I'll be there." She handed me her phone. "Punch in your number."
"I'll warn you," I said as she punched in my working line. "Nick suspect's I'm coth, but I can't reveal my identity unless he proves to carry the wolf gene. This entire encounter will play out by chance."
"How do you expect to get a teenage boy to walk through the woods after dark with no one around?" Her eyebrows rose slightly. "Should I give a heads up when I arrive?"
I scrunched my nose automatically. "Nothing like that. I'll tell Nick I saw a wolf out in the woods, and he'll go looking. Especially if I go with him and suggest we split up." I finished the last of my drink. "He's been obsessed with coth and talks non-stop about them. I hope for his sake he takes after his dad."
"Who was his dad anyway?" There was a sourness to Anya's tone. Blood ran thick and keeping secrets from the pack was equal to treason.
"Max Davis. He was young and probably didn't live long enough to know he was going to be a father. Car accident," I explained.
Anya's eyes softened. "Before my time. I'm sure he was given proper right, poor guy."
"Least we can do is try to force the wolf out for Nick." I plopped a few bills on the table for the drink, turning to watch the stage and dance floor.
A balcony gave a second-floor view of the mass of throbbing teens. Sweat and the scent of various perfumes saturated the air as the music got louder. It was the perfect catalyst for risky decisions. I had to admit, it was better than teenagers acting recklessly in a closed environment. It was something I would have to remember.
"I'll look forward to your contact later." Anya stood, holding out her hand for a farewell shake.
Before I had the chance to return the gesture a figure appeared beyond her shoulder. Long blond hair with translucent streaks, a tall frame, and a face that looked like it was cut from stone.
The singer grabbed the microphone with long, steely nails, and her melodious voice drifted through the crowd. It sunk into my heart, as old wounds broke open.
Anya noticed my pinched breathing, and her head swiveled to take in the siren on stage.
"That's Kiri. She just started here tonight. That's why it's so busy, everyone heard." Anya beamed, her eyes fixed on the woman. "She's a siren, crazy right? I've never seen one in person, thought they were all crazy."
"I have." I managed to gape. "She's not supposed to be here."
"Who is she?" Anya cocked an eyebrow, a smirk growing on her lips as she regarded Kiri with new insight.
"My girlfriend. I thought she was back at Morill Manor, safe and happy. This..." I stuttered, "isn't right." Uncle said she was happy. Why would she leave?
Everything just got more complicated.