“We’re going to need more than the Nephilim to hold Roland off.”
I think about Darius but keep it to myself for right now. I need to watch him for a bit first.
“I don’t like the idea of picking teams. How is that any different than being in the crusade?”
“Allies are always important—it’s better to have them before the first shot is fired.”
“Since when do you use a gun?” I glance at his biceps. “You know, other than those.”
He frowns and looks at his arms.
“It’s a saying,” Elizabeth tells him and grabs his massive arm. “For these weapons.”
“Ah.” His eyes flick over my face, settling on my lips. “Good one.”
I take a sip of my coffee, pretending my drink is what’s making me warm. Armin is strong. Sexy. Fantastic in bed. He’s also incredibly literal.
A loud, sharp tapping cuts through the loud voices of the students, drawing attention to the elevated stage at the far end of the room. A long table stretches across; it’s where the instructors typically sit. Miya and Agis are there, plates of food in front of them. The interruption comes from the center point of the table.
Roland.
He stands at the edge of the stage, broad-shouldered and handsome. I know that inside is a rotting, vengeful man, but from the outside he’s good-looking and confident. The kind of leader an unsuspecting person would want to follow into battle.
“Students and faculty, I know the past few days have been filled with uncertainty and upheaval. Headmaster Gardner is no longer with us,” his eyes flick in my direction, “and you’ve graciously welcomed me into the fold. As you know, my duties are beyond the day-to-day activities of the students. That responsibility was assigned to Professor Christensen.”
“Was?” I whisper.
Roland’s attention shifts to the edge of the platform, and every eye in the room follows his gaze. A woman appears to materialize from thin air. Had she been there all along? I’ve certainly never seen her before, with fiery red hair twisted in a tight, uncomfortable bun.
“Fuck,” Armin says in a whisper. Both Miya and Agis have stopped eating and stare at the woman.
My stomach twists nervously.
Roland grins. “I’d like you to welcome our new lead instructor, Victorine Keller.”
He smiles at Victorine, who, although she looks no older than I do, there’s a cold, ancient darkness to her eyes. She’s definitely an Immortal.
She steps up to the edge of the stage, her long black cape fluttering over her shoulders. The room is silent as she peers into the crowd. Her eyes skim over each person individually, and when she gets to me, I feel a flicker of a shadow scraping down my bones.
“What the—” I mutter. Armin’s fingers graze mine, an attempt to quell the shudder running down my spine.
It doesn’t work, but the ring on my finger heats, sending a flare of warmth up my arm.
“As of today,” Victorine says in a haunting, authoritative tone, “all classes will be cancelled.”
A loud whoop of excitement rumbles through the room. I see Luke and one of his friends high-fiving across the table from one another.
She smiles, teeth straight and white. “Don’t get too excited. There will still be mandatory activities, including a series of events nightly. Tonight’s will be a special presentation that you don’t want to miss.”
She steps aside, leaving the room in a roar of chatter.
Miya and Agis both stand as she crosses the stage, exiting the room. They head in our direction. When they arrive, I pull the three of them aside and ask, “You know her, don’t you?”
“Victorine was a partner of Camulus’. A demi-god,” Miya says. “She’s cruel and heartless.”
“Calculating,” Agis adds, arms crossed over his chest.
“She had an affinity for the Immortals, especially Roland.”