Fae of the South (Court of Crown and Compass Book 3) by E. Hall (good books to read in english TXT) 📗

put it back on as if claiming myself. I can be as cold and unforgiving as snow and ice, but also as beautiful.

My breath comes up short as something Emeric said in the woods rushes back to me. I was still under his enchantment, but he reminded me of the night I was attacked sophomore year. He confessed. Why’d he attack me? He said he wants me to lead...what?

I plumb the depths of my shadows. The unforgiving, wrathful side of me wins as I get to my feet. I will have revenge on him.

Suddenly, the door opens. It’s not Amelia. Worst-case scenarios fill my mind. Two CAs stand in the hall, reminding me of when I was arrested.

One says, “You’re to report to the headmistress’s office.”

“It’s the middle of the night?” I say.

The other says, “Strike three. You’re out.”

Confusion doesn’t adequately describe how I feel. For once, I didn’t do anything. Unless Emeric reported that I was behind all the recent vandalism. He wouldn’t be lying, but I doubt that he’d confess that he compelled me to do so. That’s something I don’t understand. Vampires can make you fall in love with them, but not do things. He can’t be vampire and fae—I know that much about beings like us.

I have to find Amelia and Tyrren. The CAs march me to the whitewashed administration building. Buckets of paint lay discarded, their contents splashed on walls.  Glass glitters like ice on the grass. Paper litters the ground. The single statue I pass lost an arm.

Spray paint bears scrawling messages about the end of RIP and the rise of chaos. Stencils of X’s with slithering red snakes figure prominently on the walls. The door closes with a heavy thud at my back. I wonder how Emeric got away with being a student, playing both sides as a vamp and a member of the X-Crew.

The CA knocks.

“Come in,” Headmistress Jurik calls.

We enter.

She finishes writing something, looks up, and removes her glasses. “Hello, Lea. Thank you for joining me at this unorthodox hour.”

I nod, not sure what she expects me to say. A quiet whisper urges me to make a run for it, but the CA thrusts me toward the chair.

“Have a seat.” She gestures and then dismisses the correctional assistants. She looks me over carefully as though assessing whether or not I’m a threat and should call them back. Her gaze floats to the bracelet around my wrist. “Is it imprinted with runes?”

I shake my head. “No, it was a gift from a friend.”

“And the necklace. Where’d you get that?”

I’m about to say Ivan when a memory from the recesses of my mind drifts by. I have the choice of whether or not to reach out and grab it, to see the fullness of it. My stomach rolls over. I do the brave thing.

“The necklace came from my mother.”

“Ah, a Frost Fae charm?”

I nod when really I want to shrug because I’m not sure of that. Jurik, despite her status as the headmistress, could be someone who could provide answers. Again, I’m met with a choice to make. Do I trust her? She’s tough and shrewd, but then again, she’s in charge of reforming actual criminals. It’s no small thing. Whether or not I’m here wrongfully, she’s been doing what she thinks is right.

I swallow. “Yeah. She gave it to me when I was little. Before she died.”

“Are there others?” she asks.

This time I do shrug because I have no idea. No? I certainly don’t have another one.

She offers a conciliatory smile. “I’m sorry. I lost my mother when I was young too.”

I’m covered in mud and blood from the Rjoklund Games and scuffle with Emeric. I also stand accused of all the vandalism on campus. If anything, she shouldn’t trust me. But I’d like to get whatever information I can from her.

Jurik sighs and shifts in her seat. “You and I are the same you know, but different.”

“What do you mean?” I say reflexively.

“Because I see myself in your wild ferocity and fear. You must dissolve the latter to be who you’re meant to be.” She studies how each of her reasons affects me.

“And who is that?”

“The fae who’ll lead us in the defeat against our enemies.”

My eyebrows dip.

“Of course, you don’t understand. It’s okay. You will in time. As you know, there’s a sharp division between vampires and fae. It’s been this way since Bortimal’s time and probably before that too. Since then, it’s been the same in Borea as it is here—with hatred and fighting between the two. Eighteen years ago, there was a prophecy.”

I remember what Amelia said about her father telling her something similar.

“I believe you’re part of that prophecy,” Jurik says.

“How? What does it have to do with me?”

“You’re meant to lead the army. That’s what we’re doing here at RIP Jr—preparing you to fight.”

“Like in a war? Bootcamp?”

She nods. “You’ll be a key figure in leading us. First, I need your help.”

I shift in my chair. “What do you mean you need my help?”

“A long time ago, I made a mistake,” Jurik says.

For a moment, her eyes mist then her stony, headmistress’s mask returns.

“Yeah, I understand that.” I’ve certainly made plenty.

“I need you to find my son and bring him back here. Only you can do this.”

“Is this part of the prophecy?”

She shakes her head.

“Then how am I suitable for this job? Who’s your son?”

“His name is Emeric.”

Chapter 18

Tyrren

 

 

Felix and Cole hang out in the lounge. I linger out of sight, listening and waiting for the right moment.

“The administration hasn’t done anything,” Felix says with an air of disbelief.

“Not so far at least,” Cole replies