The demon was a blur of midnight fog. I kept trying to turn my head but each time it slipped from my periphery. When I finally woke, it felt as though I’d gone a hundred rounds with a sandblaster. Groaning, I rubbed my eyelids. I lay in a mid-sleep state, trying to force my body to move. The quality of the sunlight coming through the window told me it was getting towards time to leave. I just couldn’t muster up the enthusiasm. When the alarm on the mirror started to beep, I had no choice. I’d set it to allow me one ten-minute snooze and then it would unleash holy hell. The noise it would make could wake the dead. I wasn’t quite there yet.
I’d heard somewhere that a cold shower worked to reset your internal clock. It sure as heck had me squealing when the icy beads cascaded down my back. I wasn’t sure if I was any more alert but moving got my muscle memory working. I lost precious minutes wrangling my hair into a knot at the top of my head. Fishing around in my makeup bag, I found the last of the magic spray that would keep it in place without the use of pins or chemicals. I really needed to make some money. The magic saved my eardrums. I left the room just as the alarm light on the mirror went to amber alert.
Today was Potions day so I didn’t have to hurry. It also meant I was loaded up with my suitcase that contained all of my most prized ingredients. The dragon’s breath was carefully stowed in the foam mould that lined the sides of the suitcase. Still, I hugged the case to my chest as I weaved my way through the throng of students rushing to their first classes. My stomach growled. Thanks to the sleep-in, I hadn’t had time for breakfast. I promised myself I’d make it up at lunchtime.
My classmates jostled with each other for prime position. Unlike every other class, they all made an effort to arrive early. The ones who were late got the desks closest to me. I obliged them by arriving just before the bell so they had time to argue with each other. Nobody wanted to work next to the low-magic witch with a serial killer for an ancestor. It was like they’d forgotten they were the ones with fangs and claws.
Potions had been great-grandfather’s forte. It was a wonder I hadn’t been banned from the class. What would Professor McKenna think if she knew I had his diary? I probably wouldn’t have time to find out. I’d be whisked off to the supernatural prison so fast my head would spin.
My spot was always somewhere at the back. We worked on long wooden benches. I bet they were all glad that in this class, we had individual tables. I set my cauldron up as I waited for Professor McKenna to arrive. I was halfway through tempering the flames beneath my cauldron when she breezed into the room. There was a bit of a spring in her step. Her tanned skin seemed to almost glow with vibrancy.
In comparison, one of the Fae a few desks in front of mine seemed to be having trouble staying awake. He sat with his chin propped up on his fist. Every once in a while his elbow would give out and he’d jerk like he was startled. A quick glance at the dingo shifter to my right showed a similar state of sluggishness. I supposed I should take comfort that I wasn’t the only one who’d had a bad night. I was a little groggy but for the most part, I could still manage to keep my eyes open.
Professor McKenna made no comment about the sleepy heads. She wheeled a trolley with a glass top next to her desk. I almost salivated. “I want you to continue working on your end-of-year assignments,” she said. She swept her arm over the trolley. “I’ve gotten permission for you to use some of the supplies from the senior campus.” Chairs scraped as students made to lunge for the rare ingredients. The professor held up her hands. “This isn’t a free-for-all. If you want something, come and see me.”
There was a quiet collective groan. My fingers itched to start. I had everything I needed for the elixir. Most of it was substitutes I’d bought with my own pocket money. It was sad that I prioritised my potion over my hair, but if I could pull this off, I would ace the final exam. Somehow, I found myself standing in front of the professor’s desk.
Up close, I would swear her hair was pulsating health. “Sophie,” she said, her smile wide. “I don’t know what you put in that soup, but I feel like I’m supercharged.”
Alarm shot through my chest. My eyes darted to where the closest student was having trouble coaxing the salamander under her cauldron to breathe its fire. I always kept flavoured coals in my case as a treat. My salamander spat fire just seeing me.
“I really didn’t put anything in it,” I said, eyes downcast. “I used a different cauldron –”
She tapped my wrist lightly where I’d balled my fists. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Then she too glanced around. “Although I suppose it was a pretty poor choice of words. Sorry about that. What can I do for you?”
I glanced surreptitiously through the glass on the trolley. I was a potions enthusiast. One of those geeks who went a bit crazy over the idea of getting a brew just right.
