Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“You’re going to do great,” Livia tells me, tapping the table. “Trust me. Just give me a text when you’re done with school and keep me updated, okay?”
I nod then yell, “Thank you for the coffee!” as she walks away. She gives me a little wave with her hands and then disappears down an alleyway.
I sigh and spend a few moments sitting in the chair, watching a few boats go past down the narrow canal, listen to the melodic sounds of spoken Italian fill the air. The longer I sit here, the safer I am. The longer I sit here, the less I have to pretend.
I can sit here all day, just avoiding my job. I don’t even have to do this job, I can back out, tell Bellamy that this wasn’t what we had agreed upon. But part of me knows that this is a test. It’s possible that he knew all of this for a while and wanted to spring it on me at the last minute, when I was already here.
He may have been my guardian growing up, but I didn’t trust Bellamy most of the time. There was always some lesson for me, some ulterior motive.
A pigeon suddenly lands on the end of the chair across from me and tilts its head.
“Hey,” I whisper to it, taking some of the sugar and sprinkling it on the table. “You can have this if you do me a favor.”
The pigeon tilts its head again and then jumps onto the table with clean pink feet.
What’s the favor? It seems to ask me.
“Just watch over me,” I tell it. “I think I’m in over my head.”
The pigeon seems to think that over then it takes a grain of sugar before flying away. Hmmphf. No answer.
I take that as a sign to get going. In all my life I have never backed away from a fight. I’ve always done what was expected of me. This is no exception.
Chapter 3
Dahlia
I bring out my phone and get out of my seat, using the GPS to find my way to the conservatory. Once I get to Ponte de la Cortesia, tourists already crowding the pretty bridge, it’s a straight shot to the school.
The Benedetto Marcello Conservatory of Music is located in two buildings a stone’s throw away from the Grand Canal. They blend in with the rest of Venice in the way that it’s both elegant and ubiquitous, the type of buildings that seem a fitting home for musicians. I already received my welcome package online, so I enter the school with confidence, only briefly checking a map on the wall before heading off to my first class of the day.
Inside, the school is opulent and grand, with soaring ceilings and ornately carved moldings. There are also a few modern touches, like large display screens in the hallways, and a garden area nestled in between two of the buildings, as well as inner courtyards that I’ve seen decorated with fairy lights during concerts on YouTube where guest musicians or students play. The floors that surround the courtyards are open to the air, supported by pillars, giving the school the feeling of being in a grand palace.
I eventually find the classroom, passing by the entrance to the library on the way. If I had more time I would duck my head in—the library is one of the most important in all of Italy, with over fifty thousand books as well as important historical artifacts, and it seems the perfect place to hide a stolen book of magic, especially if the professor is involved.
Instead, I go and wait outside the classroom, watching as students go in, pretending to check my phone. Some are in pairs, but most don’t seem to know each other. They all look at me but not in an odd way, more in wondering if I’ll be joining their class, which is a relief because it means I’m not standing out.
I take in a deep breath, watching the time count down on my phone. I don’t want to be too early, but I don’t want to waltz in late either. I have to do everything just right, to snag his interest without tipping him off that I’m doing it on purpose.
With two minutes before class starts, I walk in.
This is my music history class. I have a few academic classes while the rest are practical, and Professor Aminoff happens to be my teacher for both this one and the practical. That wasn’t an accident of course. Even though this is my last chance according to the guild, I think the reason they picked me (they probably felt they had to pick me) wasn’t because of their generous nature in giving me a second chance, but because I was probably the only slayer who had musical experience and talent, particularly with it comes to the keys, which is Dracula’s speciality.