Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
“It says not to eat them.”
“Oh.” I coughed in my hand. “I feel so much better knowing the most read book in the world provides such profound advice. Though I can’t say I know anyone who would actually eat a bat. Except Ozzy Osbourne.” I feigned a gulp. “Will he go to hell for that? Even if it was an accident?”
“No, he’ll go to hell for all his other sins.”
“Wow. That’s dark.” I chewed on my lip. “Look, I know you have a job to do with punishing bad girls and all. But I’ll be straight with you. Heaven’s not the right scene for me. I mean, if Ozzy can’t make the guest list, how lit can the place be? Like who’s going to be there? A bunch of uptight, rule-following overachievers with their side parts, cringey dance moves, and last-season jeans? Sounds like the moms of TikTok. Hashtag OldTok. Yawn.”
“Grow up.”
Make me. I didn’t have to say it. He read it in my smile.
“You will.” His arm moved in a blur.
Before I could register his intent, he smacked his fist against the windowpane, rattling the glass and sending the bat spiraling to certain death.
“No!” My heart cried out as I shoved open the window and searched the darkness. “What have you done?”
The ground lay beneath a blanket of shadows three stories below. Nothing but endless, pitch-black abyss.
How could he be so cruel? The bat was outside, not hurting anyone. And he was a priest. A man of God.
A devil in disguise.
Hatred flared in my blood, simmering through the deepest parts of me, seething hotter, thicker by the second.
I listened for the sound of wings, but all I heard was the monster’s retreating footsteps like a death march in my head.
And his voice.
His heartless, unyielding command.
“Come with me.”
CHAPTER 4
MAGNUS
I strode into the hall without waiting for the girl. Her footsteps didn’t follow, but they would. They all fell in line, eventually.
Predictable, uninspiring, entitled children. They were always difficult on the first day, thrashing against their new boundaries and resentful about leaving their friends and mansions.
And I had the impossible job of molding them into something better.
The top strata of society lived in a world of mirrored surfaces and disingenuous relationships where a person’s value correlated to how much they could take, control, and hold over others.
Making spoiled rich kids smarter and stronger wasn’t the best thing for society as a whole. What these students needed were lessons in kindness from a positive role model.
But I wasn’t that guy. So I stuck with what I was good at.
Discipline.
Halfway down the corridor, I sensed her slipping out of the classroom behind me.
“Where’s my mother?” She tried to sound confident, but her voice wobbled at the edges, confessing her distress.
Who would’ve thought the pampered Constantine princess had the capacity to care about something other than herself? Her reaction to the bat was a disarming presentation of her character. But she canceled it out with her snarky comebacks and passive-aggressive attempts to belittle me.
No student had ever been so bold.
As she trailed behind, waiting for my answer, her animosity clotted the air. A glance over my shoulder confirmed it.
An inferno consumed her huge expressive eyes, and her lips curled back, baring sharp kitten teeth. Pale blonde hair hung in tangles around her stiff arms, her tiny hands balled into white-knuckled fists at her sides.
Her furious stare didn’t lower, never weakening, completely dialed in on the source of her outrage.
She despised me.
That was atypical, too.
All my students felt some form of trepidation in my presence. But none hated me. Quite the opposite. Too often, I found myself reprimanding unwanted flirtation or, worse, infatuation.
I suspected that wouldn’t be a problem with Tinsley Constantine. But despite all that, she was the same as every other spoon-fed brat with a trust fund, personal driver, and closet full of designer shoes and emotional baggage.
I should tell her the truth about her mother, that the woman intended to leave without saying goodbye. But the words didn’t come. Instead, I stopped at my classroom and gestured inside. “She’s waiting.”
Waiting, because I’d given her that order when I stepped out to grab her daughter. I needed to make something very clear to both of them before they parted ways.
As Tinsley approached, I didn’t step back, forcing her to squeeze past me.
“Murderer,” she spat under her breath and slipped into the room.
In the interest of moving this along, I let it slide. There would be plenty of time in the coming months to punish her mouth.
I followed her in and closed the door.
“What took so long?” Caroline strode toward me, purse in hand, looking all bent out of shape and long past ready to leave.
“Take a seat.” I flicked a finger at the first row of desks. “Both of you.”
“I’m surprised you’re still here.” Tinsley dropped onto a chair and crossed her arms. “Figured you would’ve sneaked away when you had the chance.”