“Riven.” Jean-Claude doesn’t exactly seem or sound very happy to see him. The count stands, places a hand on my shoulder, and leans into my personal space. “This is Everly Stillwater.”
The headmaster walks forward, hand extended, and says, “Hello, Everly.”
I know that voice. I’d know it anywhere.
My blood runs cold.
“You!” I point at Riven and take a few steps towards him. “It was you on the train!”
THIRTEEN♀♥♂♂♂♂EVERLY
Riven appears surprised but the surprise fades fast.
“You have a good memory,” he says.
And then, as I glance around myself, I realize I’ve been had.
This… this was Riven’s plan all along! He isn’t going to help me! He kidnapped me! And the rest of them—Harlow and Jean-Claude are his accomplices!
Riven blocks the only escape routes—the door and the window. His two sentries, Jean-Claude and Harlow, will keep me from running. Even knowing the vampire will detain me, instinct causes me to seek shelter against him. My stupid body still believes he’ll protect me.
Riven takes a step toward me, but then falters.
The count hisses, and he wraps his cloak around me. His shawl-cowl has grown into a full cape, and I’ve never felt as safe as I do now. Harlow looks from me to Riven and takes a step to the side, shielding me and facing Riven. The shimmer in the air around the incubus is back. Needle-thin claws sprout from his fingertips. He’s unsure but leans toward me, as if he means to guard me.
Riven halts and smiles. “Good,” he says as he looks from Jean-Claude to Harlow. “It’s heartening to see a dryad’s panache for collecting those loyal to her is in full form.” Then he looks to me. “You’ll need allies here.”
“I’m not staying.”
My voice is venom. The count pulls me closer to him. His already looming form grows, crouches over me, shields me, and his rumbling growl doesn’t stop. It almost seems like… like he’s warning Riven to keep away from me. But, why would he do that? Obviously they’re working together...
The headmaster’s smile drops, but not at the two threats before him. He frowns at me. “You aren’t staying?” he repeats.
“No! I demand you return me to the train station so I can find my way back to Arcadia… where I’m really supposed to be.”
He nods and then looks at me with concern in his gaze. “Won’t you listen to the reason why you were brought here in the first place?”
“No. You lied to me and I don’t care about your reasons why.”
Riven winces. “About that…”
“No,” I interrupt him, shaking my head. “I don’t want to talk. I want to get back on that train so I can get the hell out of here.”
His eyes widen, no doubt at the fact I’ve used the word ‘hell’. Most dryads don’t use foul language. Not that ‘hell’ is that foul, really. Well, my mom wouldn’t have liked hearing me say it… Anyway, I’ve had enough of this place.
“You were never a transfer student, Everly,” Riven says and spreads his hands in front of him as he steeples his fingers and frowns.
“What?” Shock threatens to unbury a deep, insistent fear I’ve ignored since I arrived in Dread. Tears well in my eyes. “No, that’s not true! I saw the letter from the Academy of Enchantment! The acceptance letter…”
“Something very simple to render,” Riven interrupts.
I continue to shake my head. “You’re lying! I’m… I’m a 5.0 student!”
He nods. “That’s why you’re here.”
But I’m not listening. “I’m supposed to go to the Academy of Enchantment! The Circle needs another Enchanter. This was my chance…” Cracks spread over my dream of becoming the next priestess.
“You could still go.” Riven inches closer.
The count backs away, pulling me with him, and Harlow jockeys himself more between Riven and me. But Harlow looks unsure, sharing his attention between me and the headmaster. I get it. I understand Harlow’s situation. Clearly, Riven put him in charge of fetching me. Harlow said as much. And now he’s basically in the unfortunate situation of having to take sides. He must choose between me and his headmaster.
He won’t choose me.
“How?” I demand, glaring at the headmaster of a school I want nothing to do with. “How can I still go to the Academy of Enchantment if I was never admitted?”
Riven shrugs. “I could get you in. Recommend you.”
“Ha!” I might be naïve, but I’m no fool. “You? You’d recommend me?”
Riven stops trying to push us into a corner and stills. “I’m headmaster.” He shrugs like it’s a given that he could get me into the Academy of Enchantment.
I’m not so sure. “You, the person who set up this whole… kidnapping to begin with?”
“First of all,” Riven argues, shaking his head. “I would hardly term it a kidnapping.”
“What else would you term it?” I demand.
Jean-Claude nods. “She is quite correct.”
Riven gives him a sour expression that could freeze water. The count merely shrugs, as if to say I have a point. And I do have a point! A good one!
“Regardless,” Riven says. “Once you finish your business here, at the Academy of Necromancy, I am more than happy to recommend you to the Academy of Enchantment.”
“My business here?” I repeat.
“We need your help, Everly.”
Great. He knows a dryad’s weakness. All we want to do is help. But it’s a double-edged sword that can destroy us as well as bring us fulfillment. I let out a sharp laugh as soon as I remember seeing him on the train, the conversation we had. And then I remember blacking out and waking up to find myself here, in Dread. “You shoved so much pain into me, I passed out and missed my stop.” A stop which, apparently, was never mine.
The count hisses at Riven,
