Chapter 8: Chapter Eight

By some miracle, next period passed without fanfare, in no part thanks to my class being filled with nerd Mages (who were too unpopular to have been sent the footage of my altercation) and pious Celestials (who’d probably seen the footage but were too scandalized by my pink panties to mock me). Oil Slick, aka Kyra, was also in that class. She avoided eye contact with me. Clearly, without Amber or Emerald by her side, she was a total wimp.

I only had final period to get through, then it would all be over.

I entered the classroom and flinched with shock when I saw there was already someone inside. And not just anyone. It was Nikolas.

His black owl saw me first, freezing me to the spot with its amber eyes. Then Nikolas slowly raised his head and locked a brown-eyed glare on me. His stare was cold and hard.

My heart skipped. I felt very aware of the fact we were alone, and that last time our paths had crossed, I’d knocked him unconscious with my Mage-balls.

I hovered in the doorway, too awkward to move. “I—I’m really sorry about Battle Class. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Yeah?” he replied, sounding cynical.

“It was an accident,” I added. “I’m a total newbie with magic.”

He looked at me with an unimpressed expression, his thick, dark eyebrows drawn slightly together. He really wasn’t giving me an inch.

“What else do you want me to say?” I asked, starting to sound huffy.

“Nothing,” he replied.

“You know, I saw your secret tattoo,” I blurted. “The one on your forearm. It’s a moon mark, isn’t it?”

There was a definite flicker of emotion in his dark eyes. Anger. And… fear? My mind raced, trying to decipher its meaning.

Suddenly, Nik was on his feet, his finger pointed at me. “Don’t ever say that aloud again,” he hissed under his breath. “Ever.”

Excuse me?

“Oh hell, no,” I said, channeling my badass Grandma Amaryllis. “You do not point a finger in my face. And was that some kind of threat? As if I care enough about you to talk about you. Jeez. Just go back to your whole wounded, brooding thing. I’ve got the message.”

I marched past him and flung myself into a seat.

Just like that, my crush on him went out like a flame doused in water. He may have fit the description of a dark-haired hottie, but being a rude asshat was a total turnoff. I was so not here for the drama—I got enough of that from my mom. I was done. Mic-drop.

Just then, a bunch of shy-looking Celestials shuffled into the room, and quietly took the front-row seats. Coming in after them was Retta.

I was beyond relieved to see her. I straightened in my chair and waved.

She sauntered across the room, looking like some kind of superstar, then slid into the desk next to mine and leaned over.

“I have an idea,” she whispered, light shimmering off her dark, gold-flecked skin.

“For what?”

“For getting your bow back.”

That again. I’d been feeling the absence of my bow all day. It was like a grief that only seemed to get worse the longer we were apart. At the reminder of it, I felt a dull jab in my heart like a bruise being pressed.

“I already vetoed your campaign idea,” I said.

“I know.” She lowered her voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “That’s why we’re going to steal it back.”

“What?” I cried, almost choking on my tongue.

She looked deadly serious. “Listen. All the confiscated weapons are locked in a safe in the principal’s office. Twilight is between seven and seven-thirty. After that, Zenith transforms into Eclipse. But before they switch over, everyone clears out.”

I had to admit that breaking and entering was more my jam than petitions and campaigns. But Zenith’s state-of-the-art lockers had been hard enough to get into with a passcode. A safe in the principal’s office would surely be harder.

“What about the guards?” I asked, recalling my run-in with the Baphomet and Giantess.

“They switch, too. That’s my point. Everyone clears out.”

“Aren’t there security cameras?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Zenith and Eclipse are way too paranoid about each other to do that. If either of them had cameras, they’d spend the whole time spying on each other.”

It reminded me a bit of how the Twilight Curfew had come about. Sun-class and moon-class not being able to come to an agreement on how to share something, so abandoning the idea altogether.

“Are you sure the school will be empty?” I pressed.

Retta gave her wings an enthusiastic flutter. “All we have to do is pick some locks, which I can do with my nimble pixie fingers.” She wiggled her fingers for emphasis.

“Now even I know the P-word is offensive,” I said with a laugh.

Retta grinned and jerked her thumbs at herself. “Reappropriation, remember?”

Our scheming was interrupted by the teacher entering. Retta leaned back into her seat and tapped her nose to indicate this was our secret. I couldn’t help but smile to myself.

Even if the plan failed, it was worth a shot. I’d prefer to get expelled attempting to retrieve my bow than spend the whole night pining for it. In fact, I’d quite like to get expelled anyway. Then I’d have a legit excuse to go back to Sunny’s.

And besides, spending more time with Retta seemed like a great idea.

*

When the bell rang for the end of school, Retta and I headed outside to the parking lot. I spotted Emerald’s convertible idling.

“Shit. Emerald’s meant to be giving me a ride home. I’ll have to get rid of her.”

I streaked across the parking lot to her car. Heidi was already in the back seat monologuing about how awesome her first day at school had been. Nikolas was in the passenger seat glaring moodily out the window. He didn’t even look at me as I knocked. Either he was seriously lost in his thoughts or he was a petulant child. Whichever it was, I’d already decided I no longer cared about the hottie with mysterious dual tattoos.

“Why are you hammering on my window like that?” Emerald snapped as she buzzed it down. “Just get in the damn car.”

“I don’t need a ride,” I told her. “I’m going to hang out with a friend.”

She raised an eyebrow as if in disbelief that I’d made a friend. But it was quickly replaced by a look of relief that she didn’t have to share the same air space as me.

“Fine,” she said, dismissively. “Just get home before dark or Dad will flip. Last time I missed curfew he sent a whole frickin’ search party out for me. Trust me, it’s not worth the hassle.”

She roared off, her tires kicking up dust. I watched her go, wondering if mean-girl Emerald had just offered me a piece of friendly advice.

I headed back to my hiding spot with Retta and we watched as the stream of students filing out the doors began to dwindle. After a short while, the teachers began to leave, then the security guards—including my Baphomet nemesis and the awe-inducing Giantess, who could barely squeeze into her oversized truck—and then the parking lot was empty.

“Ready?” Retta asked me, a mischievous glint in her eye.

I grinned. It was time to strike. Now or never.

“Let’s do this,” I said.

*

Our first task—getting through the entryway door—proved to be surprisingly easy. Retta picked the lock with the efficiency of someone who’d done it a million times before, then used the emergency crank-style lever to open the doors wide enough for us to slide through.

Inside, the smell of lilies was even more overpowering, now that it wasn’t masking the smell of sweaty teenagers and hormonal pheromones.

Our footsteps echoed on the white marble tiles as we climbed the steps up to the top.

The Zenith principal and Eclipse principal’s offices stood side by side. I could just imagine the principals of yesteryear squabbling over who got the office with the best view, before deciding on building a wall right down the middle so they could both have it. That seemed to be the way things were resolved these days: with walls.

I was just about to try the door when I heard an odd whooshing noise.

I gripped Retta’s arm. “Someone’s here.”

She plucked my hand off her arm.

“That’s the sound of a floor polisher,” she said in a jokingly condescending voice. “As in, it’s the janitor.”

“You said the school would be empty!” I hissed.

She shrugged. “Emptyish.”

Her blasé attitude was starting to concern me.

Retta grabbed the handle of the principal’s door and pushed it open. We tumbled inside.

I braced myself for an onslaught of white but instead found that the room was decorated in a dark, almost regal way. Tall mahogany bookshelves. A huge matching desk. It didn’t look like the clean and stylish office I’d expected from a high-ranking member of the sun-class.

As I paced farther inside, I noticed a series of paintings on the wall. They had gilded gold frames and depicted the principals of the past. The last and most recent one showed Sister Celeste.

My stomach hit the floor. What the actual heck? Sister Celeste, my bigoted history teacher, was the principal of Zenith? It was bad enough she had a platform in the classroom, but she was actually peddling her nonsense from the top down?

Retta made a psst noise to get my attention. “Here it is!”

I hurried over to where she was standing, beside a large glass cabinet. Inside was my beautiful bow, nestled among a whole plethora of weapons.

“Who brings nunchucks to school?” I asked.

Retta scoffed. “That would be the horny nerds.”

I noticed the huge electronic keypad device keeping my beloved weapon imprisoned. “Now what?”

“I bet she’s written the passcode down,” Retta said. “Someone who’s been alive as long as her probably isn’t that clued up on cyber security.”

I thought of Grandma Amaryllis. Though a mere baby in comparison to the Immortal nun, she hated technology. She was so suspicious of cell phones and the internet she refused to use them.

“That’s it!” I cried. “Sister Celeste’s been alive for so long, I bet she’s a total technophobe.”

I reached forward, gripped the entire keypad between my fingertips, and yanked. Sure enough, it lifted right off. It was just a front covering a bronze padlock beneath.

I turned to Retta and waggled the fake plastic box triumphantly.

“Genius,” she said with a grin.

“All we need now is the key,” I added.

We began to rummage around Sister Celeste’s office, nosing in drawers and cabinets. Now that I’d seen my precious bow, any sense that I was behaving immorally seemed to evaporate.

I rattled the drawers in Sister Celeste’s mahogany desk. They were all locked.

Now that I knew the principal of Zenith was Immortal, the dark decor made sense. Immortals weren’t supposed to be affiliated to either the sun or moon. They relinquished their powers in exchange for immortality. It made them kind of vulnerable, considering the types of powers the people who populated our world possessed, but I guessed that was why they employed Daimons like Baphomet as security staff. They surrounded themselves with numbskulls who’d provide the muscle and ask none of the questions.

“Hey, look at this,” Retta said.

I strode over to where she was rummaging through a drawer. “Did you find the key?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s a photo of Sister Celeste.” Then in a dramatic voice, she added, “With a kid.”

I craned to see. The photo had clearly been taken decades ago, although Sister Celeste herself didn’t look much different than when I’d seen her this morning. There was a kid sitting on her knee. She was cuddling it in a very maternal way.

“Do you think she had kids?” Retta asked.

I shook my head. “No way. Look at her. She’s way too old to be that kid’s mom. More like a grandma.”

Retta gave me a look like I was dumb. “You do know being a grandma implies having had kids.”

“Oh right. Yeah.” I shrugged. “So she had a family before she became Immortal. What’s the big deal?”

“Could be nothing,” Retta replied. “Just, why hide the photo at the bottom of a locked drawer if it was nothing?”

She gestured to the other framed photos on the nun’s desk, each depicting events from different eras, with Sister Celeste’s face unchanging.

Retta was right. Sister Celeste had specifically hidden this one photo away. I could only speculate as to why. Perhaps she’d had an accidental child out of wedlock and didn’t want anyone to know? Maybe she’d had a kid and abandoned it to become Immortal? Either way, any child of hers would be long dead by now, considering how many decades ago she’d been of childbearing age.

Retta suddenly shouted, “Oh shit, is that it?” She reached into the open drawer and pulled out a bronze key.

Anticipation made my pulse quicken. I took the key from her and ran to the cabinet where my bow was locked away.

I tried the key in the padlock, my heart leaping as it slid right in. Perfect fit.

I turned the key and the padlock clicked open.

“That was too eas—”

But before I could finish my sentence, a high-pitched wailing noise sliced through the air. I’d set off an alarm.

“Oh crap.”