As long as I can rule out the cult thing, the smartest move would be to learn as much as possible and then hightail it out of here the second I turn eighteen.
If I take this deal, then for the next six months I’ll be fed, get decent sleep, and hopefully learn how to properly protect myself. After all, the group who fought the shadow beasts held their own. And I’m seventy-six percent sure one of them is a shape shifter of some sort.
Ohhhh . . . what if I could do that?
“So, start by telling me about these magical powers.”
A slow smile overtakes Sable’s face. Her eyes sparkle with warmth and she holds out a hand.
“Bathe first. After we get some food in you, I’ll sit down and answer whatever questions you have.”
Bringing a hand up to my head, I wince when I touch my crunchy hair. It’s been a little too long since I’ve had a decent shower.
I’ll accept her terms. Get cleaned, get fed, and get answers. I can live with that.
Taking her outstretched hand, I pump it twice.
“Welcome to Seraph Academy. I think you’re going to like it here.”
Chapter Five
So. Many. People.
After taking an elevator several floors down—apparently half this academy is underground—we only make it two steps into the giant windowless room before a sea of dark-haired, light-eyed faces snap in our direction.
Or rather, my direction. Sable isn’t the oddity.
I feel each set of eyes on me like a brand.
This is one of my nightmares come to life. Having spent my life keeping to the shadows, the attention of an entire room of teenagers makes my skin crawl.
It’s so quiet, I can hear my own ragged breathing. Heat seeps up my neck and overtakes my face.
“It’s just a cafeteria,” Sable reminds me with a hand on my shoulder.
“Why are they all staring?” I whisper-yell.
Lifting her eyes, she regards the room as if for the first time.
She’s not fooling me. There’s no way she didn’t notice the shift when we entered. I heard the ruckus through the closed door. Now, all I can hear is their collective hive-mind working.
Oh no—it is a cult.
That’s why they all look the same. They’re going to flip when they figure out I can’t dye my hair to match theirs.
Where are the closest exits? Time to put my running skills to good use.
“Okay, everyone. You’ve looked your fill.” Sable’s raised voice jolts me out of my rabbit trail thoughts. “You’re making your new classmate uncomfortable.”
My breathing starts to slow a bit. Maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought.
I rub my heated palms against the material of the borrowed baggy jeans then tug at the hem of my oversized t-shirt. My underarms start to moisten.
Great, I’m going to start stinking soon.
“You’ll all have time to introduce yourselves later.”
Nope, back to panic mode.
Closest exit is the one we just entered through.
Pivoting on a heel, I rush back the way we came. Sable’s surprised “Emberly, wait!” doesn’t stop me from busting through the doors.
Experiment over. I’d rather sleep on the ground than be forced to interact with a group that large.
Sable’s hurried steps catch up to me before I reach the turn in the hallway. She jumps in front of me with her hands raised.
“What’s going on? Where are you going?”
I point a finger in the direction I just fled. “Nope. No way. I’m not doing that.”
Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. When I try to step around her, she moves with me, blocking my path.
“Hold on a second. I promise it won’t always be like that. You’re just new.”
“I can’t dye my hair,” I blurt.
“Um, we don’t expect you to?” The statement hangs in the air as a question. A clear sign my abruptness derailed her.
I rub my forehead. Darn headache.
“There’s no way I’m going to turn into a clone for you. So it’s probably best we just part ways now. I’m sure you’ll find another young girl to fill . . . ah . . . whatever sort of thing you’ve got going on here. Okay?”
Sable’s eyes grow a fraction before she bursts out laughing. A melodic sound that, given my current state of unease, is entirely vexing. I tap a foot while I wait for her to compose herself.
“I’m so sorry,” she finally says, “I’m not laughing at you.”
I have a hard time believing that.
“It’s just that I’ve gotten so used to it, it doesn’t even register with me anymore. I realize everyone looks the same at first glance, but I can assure you that’s not the case. I can also assure you that quite a few of the students would love to change their hair color if they could, but we can’t dye or lighten our hair. The color we’re born with is the color we keep throughout our lives.”
My breath catches. My hair is the same way. Down to the freaky tinted ends that don’t match the top.
“I can see by your face that that news is either incredibly surprising to you, or very familiar.”
I absently run a hand through my long—recently cleaned—hair. During my shower, months of built-up grime had swirled down the drain. It’s back to its light color with bright red tips.
“I can’t dye mine either. I tried so many times when I was younger, but it all just washed out.”
“I figured as much. That’s a quality unique to our race.”
She says that like we’re a completely different species. Oh gosh—maybe we are?
Stuffing the thought away for later, I stick to the subject at hand.
“Why is mine so different, though? Everyone in there has dark hair. And I have this.” I hold a chunk up between us to emphasize my point. The blonde parts practically glow under the overhead lights.
A few beats pass before Sable answers. “Truth is, we’re not exactly sure. You are somewhat of an anomaly in that regard, but we will do our best to help figure it out. At the end of the day though, it’s just hair.”
“It’s also a highly visible feature that sets me apart from every single person in that very large, very crowded room.”
She nods, understanding in her eyes. “I get that I’m asking you to step outside your comfort zone here, but I truly believe this is for the best. That this is for your best. Will you please just give it a chance?”
I turn to look down the hall. The noise from the cafeteria has started up again, as if I’d never been there. Or perhaps they’re all talking about me now. The strange girl with the odd hair.
“I have an idea. If I leave for a moment, will you promise not to run?”
That’s a promise I don’t want to keep. Sable notices my hesitation.
“Trust me, please?”
I reluctantly nod.
Sable hurries down the hall and through the dreaded doors. She’s only gone a few minutes before she’s pushing back through them, a teenage girl on her heels.
“She’s right over here. Thanks for coming out.”
“No problem,” the girl says with her eyes—her very light blue eyes—glued on me. When she and Sable reach me, she just stares. In all fairness, I’m having a hard time not doing the same.