She managed to avoid him for the next few weeks.
She tried. He absolutely did not.
She had stopped going to the ruins and started escaping to the library, curling up with her studies or a good book or her journal, simply spending time hidden away in the beautiful dungeon with coffee and books, and Mrs. Suki, the librarian, for company. And almost every time, he had been there in one of the armchairs with lion heads carved into them, wearing glasses and doing some work of his own. She spent time with her friends, and somehow he was somewhere in the vicinity, crossing over, walking around, or just watching from a window. She loved and hated his attention in equal measure.
Jade and Erica, both of them although very different from her, had become her friends. Jade had started hooking up with Troy again so the boys had begun to hang out with them more and more. Corvina didn’t mind, especially Troy. He was what she imagined brothers could be like – occasionally irritating, hugely protective, and mostly nice. She was more restrained around Ethan and Jax, even though they brought a nice energy to the whole group. She was still the quiet one, but she had begun to trust them enough to relax slightly around them.
Jax especially had become interested in her from what Erica said, but she liked that he never pushed. He respected that she wasn’t into him and didn’t make it awkward, and she liked that about him. And the silver-eyed devil noticed it all. He was the one she was very, very into and she shouldn’t have been, not after the weeks that went by, not after that disastrous look of regret on his face after their kiss. Thankfully, she was good at pretending all was usual.
She never looked at him in class and he never singled her out, even though she felt his eyes on her. She saw him in the dining room and around campus, and she walked away in the other direction, ditching her attempts to pretend she wasn’t avoiding him, even though she secretly caught a glimpse of his darkly beautiful form sometimes.
She also ignored the pang she felt at never hearing the sound of the music drifting to her from the tower again. She didn’t know if he simply stopped playing that particular piano and spent his night repairing the one in the ruins, or if he was avoiding her tower, but she missed the music.
Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she entered the Admin Wing for the first time since getting her books that first week months ago. The weather had gotten considerably colder over the weeks, enough for her to begin wearing her thigh-high boots for warmth under her woolen skirt. Troy had told her it would stay cold for a few weeks before it got warmer again.
A young man with glasses sat behind the reception desk, flipping through a book.
“Hi,” Corvina greeted him with a slight smile. “I have a letter I need to post.”
It was her twenty-second birthday, a fact nobody knew except the recipient of her letter.
The young man frowned. “Today is Saturday.”
“Yes,” Corvina kept her smile. “I heard someone takes the letters to town on Sunday. I just wanted to drop mine off.”
The man looked at the envelope in her hand, then up at her. “That was last Sunday, miss. I’m sorry but the next delivery will be in two weeks.”
Sweat beaded on her brow. “Um. This is slightly urgent. It can’t wait two weeks.”
The man glanced down at her, giving her a once over. “I’m sorry but I don’t know how to help you.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
She couldn’t be late. She had until a week after her birthday. Desperation gripped at her throat. “You don’t understand. This is very important. Is there any way I can go to town to post it in that case?”
“I’m sorry-”
“You can ride with me,” the deep voice from her back made every nerve in her body snap to attention in a way it hadn’t done in weeks, something inside her rejoicing, the feeling oddly like coming home after a long time away. She didn’t understand it.
Bracing herself for the sheer havoc his presence wrecked on her insides, Corvina turned around and saw him in a black trench coat, a shadow of scruff on his face, that distinguished streak of grey swept back in his disheveled hair.
She’d forgotten how the cells in her body realigned in his field when he focused on her, the electric shock going through each one of them making her entire body warm.
God, she wanted him.
“You’re going to town?” she asked hopefully, ignoring the desire singing through her system.
He gave a terse nod, his eyes taking her in. “Meet me in the driveway in five minutes.”
“Wait,” she stopped him, throwing a worried look at the young man at the reception. “Am I allowed to go with you?”
He shrugged, unworried. “Under special circumstances, yes. I’ll inform Dr. Greene.”
A thrill shot through her. Biting her lip, she assented and exited the building, running to find Jade to let her know she was taking a trip down. After a few minutes of searching, she found her in an alcove in the back lawns, making out with Troy.
She cleared her throat.
“Hey, Purple,” Troy greeted her, his lips shining.
Corvina rolled her eyes and looked at her slightly dazed roommate. “I’m going to town to send a letter.”
Jade frowned, her eyes clearing. “Wait, you can’t go alone. You need someone– Oh no. Not him.”
“I’ll be fine,” Corvina reassured her. “It’s important, and he’s the only one going down.”
“He who?” Troy asked.
“Mr. Deverell,” Corvina answered, seeing Troy’s brows go up. He whistled. “Lucky. He’s got a sweet ride.”
Jade still looked apprehensive. “He’s a teacher, and I don’t trust him.”
She just touched her friend’s shoulder, initiating contact, something she didn’t do at all. The silver-eyed devil probably didn’t even realize how unusual it had been for her to initiate their kiss. She shook off her thoughts and addressed her friend. “Then trust me. I’ll be okay.”
Reassured enough by that, Jade and Troy waved her away as she picked up her navy woolen skirt and ran to the driveway, her flat brown boots smacking the cobblestones with each step, the envelope clutched in her hand.
A black, sleek SUV was purring in the driveway, its driver waiting for her.
Rounding the front, she opened the passenger side door and climbed in. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Put on your seatbelt,” he commanded.
Corvina glanced at him, taken aback by the light grey Henley he was wearing, sleeves pushed up his forearms.
“I’ve never seen you in non-black,” she commented, putting the envelope in her lap and her bag between her feet, and clicking the belt in place.
“And I’ve never seen you light,” he muttered casually. That was true enough.
“I like dark colors,” she shrugged, watching as he navigated the curved road towards the large gate. “Is this your car?”
He glanced at her for a second. “Yes. I got it two years ago.”
“So, you’re allowed to leave campus whenever you want?” she asked, settling in her seat.
“The entire faculty can,” he informed her, pausing as the main gate came into view. Clouds rumbled in the distance, a blanket under the sun, casting the entire view into a misty grey that looked both mesmerizing and menacing.
A guard checked Mr. Deverell’s card and opened the gate, letting them through. After two months on the campus, Corvina realized how free it felt to suddenly be out.
“Do you mind if I roll down the windows?” she asked him before her claustrophobia would come in.
He gave her a slightly puzzled look before pressing a button on his side that rolled her window down entirely. Cold, frigid air whipped through her braided hair, and Corvina smiled at how it filled her lungs. Distance flew as he expertly weaved the vehicle over the curves, his speed definitely higher than the taxi’s had been on the way up. And this time, since she was sitting up front, she could see the plunging valley at each turn over the nose of the car, almost as though they would fly off into it before swerving at the last minute.
“Thank you for taking me, Mr. Deverell,” she told him sincerely. “I truly appreciate it.”
He stayed silent for a long moment before speaking. “Vad. When we’re alone, you can call me Vad.”
When. That was the first thing she noticed before his name.
Vad. The urge to taste the syllables on her tongue was overpowering, but she resisted for the moment. “What does it mean?”
“Untamed.”
She turned sideways, giving him a once-over. “Huh. You don’t seem untamed at all.”
The side of his lip twitched as his eyes flashed her a heated look. “You have no idea, little crow.”
Despite the cool wind on her face, she could feel her skin flush. “You give me mixed signals, you know?” she told him quietly. “When you say stuff like that, it’s one. Then you warn me away from you, it’s another. You need to make up your mind about what you want from me.”
His response wasn’t one she expected.
He chuckled, the sound rich and warm with a bite of cold.
“Who’s the letter to?” he asked, changing the topic, taking them down another treacherous curve.
Corvina looked down at the envelope before gazing out the window at the darkening sky.
“My mother.”
She felt him cut her a look she couldn’t decipher. “Your file says your parents are unavailable. Usually, that means dead.”
Corvina looked up in surprise. “You read my file?”
He shrugged. “I told you I found you unusual. So, how’s that letter to your mother if she’s unavailable?”
Corvina felt her throat go tight, her fingers clasping together as she wondered if she could tell him if she should tell him. She’d always been alone in her life, never really confided in anyone by choice. She was used to it. But for some reason, she wanted to confide in him and she wanted him to keep her secrets safe. End of the day, she didn’t know a thing about this man except that he played the most beautiful music she’d heard, he was highly intelligent, and he kissed her like she was both something to cherish and something to ravish.
“If I tell you,” she swallowed the knot in her throat, “does that stay between us?”
He stayed quiet as they drove over another curve before he gave her a glance. “Anything we talk about stays between us.”
The subliminal messaging under his use of words made her pause – when they were alone, anything they talked about, all of it indicating to something more. She didn’t understand if it was actually there or if she was reading too much into it. But he was someone careful with his words, she’d noticed. He’d not overtly lied to her, and her instincts were screaming at her to cave in.
“My mother is alive, but unavailable,” she told him, brushing the edge of her finger over the envelope. “She’s in a psychiatric institute.”
She felt him steal another look at her. “Why?”
Corvina blinked, not willing to admit everything just then. But she didn’t want to lie to him either. “She’s unfit to live on her own. She needs continuous supervision,” she gave him half the truth.
A beat of silence passed before he asked quietly. “Did she ever hurt you?”
“No!” Corvina looked up, denying even the thought of it vehemently. “Oh god, never. Mama would have killed herself before she ever harmed me. She even tried to.”
“How long has she been at the institute?”
Corvina closed her eyes. “Three years, eight months.”
God, she missed her mama. She missed her scent of soil and sage and all things love. She missed the food that she grew herself. She missed pouring the wax as she sat and worked the jars. Her mama might not have talked to her but Corvina never once doubted the love between them. And she missed that.
“I’m sorry,” the deep, gravel voice soothed the raw edges inside her softly. She looked out the window, blinking her eyes rapidly, her nose twitching with her need to cry.
“What about your father? Is he alive too?”
She breathed in the fresh air. “He died when I was one.”
“Jesus.”
Corvina shook her head at his expletive, needing a distraction. “What about you? How did you come to be here?”
Another curve around the mountain.
“Probably how most kids come to Verenmore,” he said, his tone quiet. “I grew up in a home for boys and got adopted as a teen by an old man who had no other family. He’s the one who taught me to play the piano. I came here after he passed on my eighteenth birthday.”
That was the most she’d heard him speak about himself, and though he’d delivered that in an even tone, she could feel something frothing inside him. He’d said a lot but he was hiding something. Without thinking, she touched his shoulder and squeezed, feeling the warm, hard flesh under her palm, little sparks of electricity making her hand tingle.
“I’m sorry,” she told him sincerely.
His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he gave her a nod, and Corvina pulled her hand back.
Wanting to lift the heavy mood crowding them in, she asked a question she’d wanted to for a long time. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight. Why?”
“The grey in your hair.” It was hot.
“I’ve always had premature grey hair,” he told her, steering the vehicle expertly around another bend. “Never understood why anyone expected me to hide it.”
“You carry it well,” she told him truthfully. “Especially with your eyes.”
Those eyes slid to her wordlessly.
They sat in compatible silence after that, Corvina looking out the window and enjoying the wind around her, him driving down the roads and mulling over his own thoughts. After a few moments, he fiddled with the music dashboard and the heavy strings of the guitar came over. Corvina listened to the music and smiled, not alone for the first time in a long time in a space her body and mind were at peace, with the unlikeliest of men.
The hours flew by with the music between them, broken by occasional light conversation. He didn’t ask her another serious question and neither did she, her mind on the letter she had to send to her mother for her birthday. Her mama might not remember a lot, but that was the one day she never forgot. She waited every year on her birthday week for contact with Corvina, even though her doctors said she didn’t want her daughter to come and see her.
The sky grayed outside as the town gradually came into view in the distance after countless songs. The terrain slowly flattened and Corvina took in the view of the houses dotting the sides of the road as they sped by, children playing outside, couples walking by, people doing normal, everyday things that felt so far removed from her reality.
Mr. Deverell took a turn at a T-point, slowing down as they came to the main street in the town. Corvina recognized it. The train station she’d stopped at was at the end of it.
“I’m going to drop you off here,” he told her, pulling in neatly outside a small single-storied blue building with a board that said POST OFFICE. “I have some errands to run, so I’ll be back in an hour for pick up.”
Corvina nodded. “Sounds good. Thank you.”
He indicated for her to get out and she complied, jumping out of the high seat. Moving to the sidewalk as he pulled out, she stood there until his taillights disappeared around the corner of the main street.
Taking a deep breath in, Corvina turned to the small door of the building, one that reminded her of her hometown, and pushed it open.
A bell jingled overhead and an old woman with a weathered, smiling face looked up from an old computer on her desk.
“Hello, my dear,” she greeted Corvina with a huge smile that lined her face with happiness. “What can I help you with today?”
Corvina walked to the counter, her lips mirroring the nice lady’s. She slid the envelope in her hand towards her. “I just need to send this as priority.”
The old lady pushed up her large, round glasses and peered at the envelope. “One moment, my dear,” she said, slowly typing the details on her keyboard with wrinkled hands. Corvina stood patiently as she took her time, not wanting to be rude.
“Usually they send out more mail from the school. And usually, they send that lovely boy,” the woman remarked while entering the information on her computer.
“Troy, you mean,” Corvina smiled.
“Yes,” the lady smiled. “He’s a good one. Always helps me lift some of my heavier boxes and asks me if I need anything from the store. Such a good boy.”
He was. Troy was one of the nicest people she’d ever met.
Corvina stared at the woman, appreciating the fact that she didn’t ask her about the Institute’s address on her envelope. She remembered Troy had said this woman was a wealth of information, and Corvina didn’t know if she should ask her anything. She had time to spare but no social skills needed to initiate a conversation like that.
“Corvina,” the lady looked at her name, then up at her. “Unusual name. My sister tells me you’re a studious one.”
“Your sister?” Corvina asked, confused.
“Ah yes,” the older woman nodded, peering at her screen. “She works in the library. Comes to visit me every other weekend. Tells me what’s happening up there.”
“You’re Mrs. Suki’s sister?”
“Mrs. Remi. I’m the older sister, though I look younger if you ask me,” the woman chuckled, giving Corvina a cheeky wink, and Corvina felt her lips curve. The older woman put in the final details, took the envelope and the cash Corvina handed over, folding her hands.
“How are you getting back, my dear?”
“Um,” Corvina looked out at the gloomy sky, then at the clock on the wall. “My professor will pick me up in fifty minutes.”
“Ah, you have so much time,” Mrs. Remi slowly came around the counter, heading to a small kitchenette with a dining table and two chairs on the side. “Would you like some tea? I’m afraid I only have herbal at my age. Helps with the sore muscles.”
Corvina rushed to pull out a chair for her. “Please sit, Mrs. Remi. I’d be happy to make some tea for you.”
“You’re wonderful, my dear,” she said, taking a seat on the chair, and guiding Corvina around the kitchenette. “You know I knew of a Corvina once.”
“You did?”
“Yes. Back when I was a girl. She lived down the block from me before her family moved away. Nice girl but she had red hair, not raven like yours. Never understood why they called her that with that hair. There wasn’t anything raven about her.”
Mrs. Remi kept chatting as the tea brewed in minutes. Corvina poured them both a cup and sat down on the other chair.
“You have the most unique eyes I’ve seen, Corvina,” Mrs. Remi remarked, blowing on her hot tea. “And I’ve seen many in my lifetime, dearie.”
“They’re my mother’s,” Corvina gave her a small smile.
Mrs. Remi nodded, taking a sip, and groaning with joy. “My mother had my eyes too.”
Corvina realized it was the opening she needed. She took a sip of her own brew. “Have you always lived here?”
“Oh yes,” Mrs. Remi nodded. “Born and raised and married. My folks were the same.”
“Were they here when the university was founded?” Corvina asked, and felt the older woman’s eyes on her sharpen.
“No, that was before their time.”
Corvina nodded and stayed silent, letting the older woman decide if she wanted to share more. After a few seconds, Mrs. Remi sighed. “The school was already functional by then. I don’t know if you know about the-”
“The disappearances,” Corvina finished when she hesitated.
“Yes,” Mrs. Remi shook her head, putting her cup on the table. “Terrible thing, it was. My aunt disappeared on a night back from the grocery store, never to be seen again. Destroyed my papa, bless his soul.”
“But how?” Corvina wondered out loud, and Mrs. Remi looked out the window.
“Don’t know, but she wasn’t the only one. Every full moon night one of the folks in the village went missing. They found out later it’d been kids up at the mountain taking them into the woods, butchering them in some kind of sacrifice, hiding the bodies. We never got answers.”
Mrs. Remi visibly shuddered, picking up the cup in her shaking hand and taking another sip.
“When did the disappearances stop?” Corvina asked after giving her a moment to collect herself.
“Soon after my aunt went missing,” Mrs. Remi paused. “My folks said kids at the school took care of those Slayers. That’s what we called them here.”
Corvina sipped her tea, nodding. “That’s what I heard too.”
“It’s sad what happened to those other kids though,” Mrs. Remi commented. “They just vanished one by one. It was a huge scandal back then from what folks say.”
“Did they say anything about what could’ve happened?” Corvina asked, crossing her legs and leaning back in the chair.
Mrs. Remi chuckled. “They said a lot of things back then, my dear. From murderous spirits haunting the woods to an evil monster to black magic and everything you can think of in between. But what is the truth? Perhaps, we’ll never know.”
Corvina digested that, mulling over the words.
Mrs. Remi finished her tea. “One thing I knew growing up as a little girl was this – do not to go into those woods, and do not to stay out on the full moon night. Everyone in town will tell you the same. Nothing good happens in these parts on a full moon. There’s something unholy around that castle. Best not rouse it.”
Corvina rubbed her hands over the goosebumps that littered her flesh at the old woman’s words, something almost prophetic about it that made something heavy knot in her stomach.
A spear of lightning split the sky in two. A loud clap of thunder followed immediately, making Mrs. Remi look out the window with worry.
“Better get back to the castle with your professor before dark, my dear,” the older woman spoke, her voice tensed.
Corvina straightened, alerted by the heaviness in her tone. “Because of the storm?”
Mrs. Remi gazed out, a serious look on her face. “That,” she turned to look at Corvina with the wisdom of her years in this place shining through. “And because it’s a full moon tonight.”
