Foretold (St. Bastian Institute 1)

“They clearly aren’t good judges of character like we are,” Peter replied, and I met his gaze, my attitude towards him softening further.

I was enthralled by Peter Girard paying me a compliment. Well, technically, he’d paid us both a compliment, but still. His words simmered deep into my bones, creating a lovely warmth inside me. Even though he was pestering me to talk to Principal Wolf, I was glad I’d had the courage to ask him to be my sparring partner today. I’d enjoyed getting a glimpse of his personality, despite the arguing.

“Clearly,” I finally replied, a tingle running down my spine as I forced myself to turn and start walking again. I barely made it three steps when a voice exclaimed, “Holy shit!”

Peter and I shared a glance, turning the corner to find Ren Tanaka standing outside Mr Williams’ classroom. The door was open, and he stood there staring inside, a look of stark horror on his face. I opened up my senses, picking up the distinct, coppery scent of blood. I stilled just as the bell rang, signalling the end of class.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked, noticing my change in demeanour. Warlocks had many talents and skills, but they didn’t have the sense of smell that many supernatural species possessed.

“I can smell blood,” I told him. “A lot of it.” On instinct, my fangs slipped out. Peter’s gaze widened at the sight of them. Normally, I could control such instincts, but not when the scent of blood was this strong. I became hyperaware of everything around me, most notably the pulse of Peter’s heartbeat, the rush of his hot blood through his veins. Was he … intrigued by the sight of my fangs?

Ren finally came to his senses as he turned to look at us. “I think he’s dead.”

I closed the distance between us and peered inside the classroom to discover a truly grizzly sight.

Mr Williams’ body sat limp and lifeless at his desk. On his neck was a bloodied gash. No, not a gash. Fang marks. Someone had bitten him. On the inside, I was screaming, but on the outside, I managed to hold it together. Peter’s arm came around my waist, protectively pulling me from the room.

“I came to pick up some extra coursework so that I can catch up,” Ren said, still sounding a little out of it. I didn’t blame him. It wasn’t every day you started at a new school only to discover the savaged body of one of your teachers.

A second later, a high-pitched scream assaulted my ears. Sophia Diego stood behind us. She’d clearly come looking for Peter. His arm left my waist as he went to calm his friend. Farther down the corridor, I spotted Grace and Nic, both of whom, upon hearing Sophia’s screams, came running towards us.

“Oh, my God!” Grace exclaimed as she took in the death scene laid out inside the classroom. Just like me, she’d been unable to prevent her fangs from descending at the overwhelming scent of Mr Williams’ blood.

As the shock wore off and my brain started to work again, I tried to figure out who had done this to him. It certainly didn’t look good for me since we had a very public spat earlier today, and I was one of the few students at the school capable of killing him in this manner. I sniffed the air and determined that he’d been killed within the last five to ten minutes. The blood was too fresh for it to have been any longer than that. I glanced at Nic, and he looked a little green behind the gills.

“That’s way too much blood,” he said, turning away so that he didn’t have to look at it.

Not in the almost twenty-year history of the school had there ever been a murder.

I heard the clip of someone’s shoes coming down the hallway several moments before my sister, Rebecca, appeared. She took in the sight of Mr Williams, the only outward sign of her distress being a slight flaring of her honey brown eyes. Unlike Grace and me, Rebecca had the self-restraint to keep her fangs to herself.

Her gaze fell on me. “Who found him like this?”

“I did,” Ren replied, stepping forward and drawing Rebecca’s attention.

My sister nodded and closed the door to the classroom. “I’m going to find help. All of you, stay right here, and don’t let anyone go inside that room.”

We nodded, and she hurried back down the hallway. I glanced at Grace, wide-eyed. “Who would do this?”

“Maybe Mr Williams had enemies we don’t know about.”

“People are going to think it was you,” Sophia said, and I glared at her.

“I didn’t kill him,” I snapped.

“Don’t speak to her like that,” Peter chided.

“She just accused me of murder,” I barked back.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Sophia interjected meekly. “I didn’t mean any harm, and I certainly don’t think you did it, but the school’s been rife with gossip about you and Mr Williams all day. And now he’s turned up dead. People will make the connection.”