“Have you submitted your transcript to the administration office?” I ask, turning my back on her as I scratch out a note on the chalkboard.
“I…I don’t have one.”
I turn back to her, subtly aware the other students in my class are following our exchange like a particularly slow—if fascinating—tennis match. “Which school did you attend? I’ll have it sent over.”
“I was…homeschooled.”
“Ah.” I click my fingers at the student closest to her and turn back to the board. “Sit with Alex. He can share his textbook with you.”
She drags her chair over to the closest table, and the boy reluctantly slides his textbook to the side so she can lean across and read with him.
Homeschooled? That’s a first for Saint Amos. At least, since I became a teacher here. Most of our students are children from across the state who couldn’t afford private tuition and whose parents—for whatever reason—had decided they didn’t want them in a public school.
Those who still had their parents, of course.
Many students at Saint Amos are orphans.
Is that the case with Trinity Malone? If so, why isn’t she at the all-girls school up in Devon? Sisters of Mercy never turns anyone away.
I glance over my shoulder. Trinity immediately drops her gaze back to the textbook, and her cheeks turn rosy again. I take in the rest of the class. Most of the boys are surreptitiously peeking over at her, some hiding the fact behind hands or raised up textbooks.
I’m fully aware of her presence through the rest of my lesson, and find myself watching her more often than my students. Perhaps it’s because she’s a new and shiny thing in a place usually full of shadows and cobwebs.
I need to find out what she’s doing here.
If this is in fact a coincidence, then so be it. But if there’s any chance she’ll disrupt our plan, then we’ll have to get rid of her.
The new girl doesn’t have anything to pack up except her notebook. She clutches it against her chest as she makes a beeline for the classroom door. The bell is still sounding its last gong when she disappears out the door without so much as a glance in my direction.
My regular students stream out of the room, each pausing to thank me or bid me a good afternoon before they leave.
Many of them used to have abysmal grades before they joined my class last year. The devotion and passion I pour into each class are beginning to show. With my help, these boys will get a head start on their degrees.
Moments after the last student leaves my class the door opens again.
I glance up. My body tenses soon when a student slips into my class. He peeks outside before silently closing the door and turning the lock.
“What’s so important it couldn’t wait?” I ask dryly, straightening the things on my desk as Cassius Santos slinks closer. “And fix your fucking tie, Santos.”
“You can drop the act,” Cassius rests his thigh on the corner of my desk as he crosses his arms over his chest and leers at me. “It’s just us.”
“Hallway monitors don’t mock the dress code. Or did you forget that you’re supposed to be a star pupil?”
The eighteen-year-old student is tall and well put together. Stark blue eyes contrast a dark buzz cut that accentuates his features even more than a mop of hair would have. He pretends to adjust his clothes, but when he drops his hands his tie is still crooked and his top button still undone.
“Whatever,” Cass mutters. “And it’s not a what, by the way. It’s a who.” He stabs a thumb over his shoulder. “She just left your class.”
I close my drawer and sink into my seat, leaning back and crossing an ankle over my knee. We shouldn’t be meeting like this, but the other classrooms should already be empty by now—the chances of someone seeing us are slim to none.
“It’s not the first time we’ve had a female student, or an enrollment so late in the term.”
“That’s what I thought.” Cassius narrows his eyes to blue slits. “But then Rube came to talk to me. Told me Old Scratch was showing her around like a tour guide. He seems to think they’re pretty tight.”
I shrug. “I’ll take a look at her file this afternoon.” I grab my ankle, pressing my thumb into one of the tendons. It’s an old injury, one that usually doesn’t pester me this much in warm weather. Its twin on the other ankle starts aching too, but I leave it be. “If there’s cause for concern, you’ll be the first to know.”
“What if she fucks this up, Zac?” Cass’s arms tighten as he ducks down a little. “It’s taken us years to get to this point. If she’s going to be one of those closet nuns who hang around Lucifer the whole time, how are we supposed to…” he lowers his voice, leans close “…get rid of him? You told us it would only work if no one misses him for like a week. If this chick’s his niece or something, don’t you think she’ll notice if he suddenly disappears?”
I recognize the storm brewing in Cassius’s eyes. “Tell Apollo to keep an eye on her, if you’re so damn worried,” I say.
“Will as soon as he gets back. He’s been out in the woods most of the day. Somehow managed to convince the old hag to let him leave the grounds.”
My eyes shift to the window panes. They’re high up on the wall, and less than a foot across each. They don’t show anything of the world outside except a few pieces of the sky—classrooms are for learning, not for daydreaming. But I know this place well enough to know how far away those trees are. It’s one of the things the staff of Saint Amos drill into every student who attends—no one goes past the fence. If they’re caught, they’re expelled.
Too many students have gotten lost in those woods, most of their bodies never recovered. Those that were? Hardly recognizable once the wild animals out there had finished with them.
Trust Apollo to charm his way into being allowed to spend the day out there. He hasn’t even been here the longest. This is my second year at Saint Amos. Apollo graduated last year, and Reuben and Cassius will be graduating this year.
We made sure not to arrive at Saint Amos in the same year. We couldn’t risk anyone piecing together the fact we knew each other. That’s why we’ve always kept our relationship on a need to know basis.
A dry chuckle escapes my lips. “Fuck my life.”
“I’d rather fuck her.”
My eyes snap back to Cassius. “Not a chance. You don’t go near her until we know who she is.”
Something flickers over Cass’s face, but it’s gone before I know what it means.
“Don’t fuck her.” I narrow my eyes at him. “In fact, don’t even look at her.”
“Aye, aye, Boss.” He gives me a mock salute before leaving my classroom as surreptitiously as he entered.
My muscles loosen, but not as much as they should. If my brothers are all as restless and uneasy as Cassius, then we could be facing disaster.
But he’s right—we’re running out of time. And this girl could be no one…or the person who causes this web to unravel. A web we’ve been building for years.
My ankle throbs, but I ignore it this time.
I’m stronger now. My body doesn’t have full control over me anymore.