ChapterSeven
ALEK
Istood in the back of the sanctuary of Father Gallagher’s mockery of a classroom. The vampire had taken over for Professor Sanderson after she sustained life-threatening injuries during the attack at the ball. For most, that would mean simply going to her lecture hall and taking her place, but not for the priest. He insisted on this desecrated church as the location for any class he taught. It was bad enough the weather had turned and our daylight hours were waning, but now we had to trudge through rain and wind to get here as well.
I hadn’t seen Sunny since Thorne had taken her the other night. I sent a few messages, but other than half-hearted assurances that she was fine, she hadn’t really spoken to me. I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was wrong. Thankfully, she had to attend class which meant she couldn’t keep avoiding me.
“Mr. Nordson, I’m not sure how things are done where you come from, but here wesitfor a lecture.”
Father Gallagher glowered from his desk, the rest of the class going silent from the pews where they sat.
“I’m not confident I’ll leave these rickety benches intact if I sit here, Father. They weren’t built to Novasgardian standards.”
There were a few snickers around the church, but annoyance flared in the good priest’s eyes. “Sit, Nordson. And if you fall on your arse, we’ll see about different accommodations.”
My gaze flicked to the doorway in search of Sunday. Why wasn’t she here? Thorne wasn’t here either. A spark of jealousy ignited in my chest. She must be with him. Lost to the bond no one could deny was building between them.
Kingston sat front and center, one leg kicked out like he was just waiting for Father Gallagher to walk by so he could trip him. I wondered if he was feeling the same sense of loss I was.
“Mr. Nordson, I won’t ask you—” he stopped mid-sentence when the tall doors creaked open, and Sunday stumbled through with Moira at her side.
They were both dry, likely thanks to some sort of spell the witch provided, but Sunday was shivering. Her eyes were glassy in her too-pale face. She looked unwell. Not so much so that I feared for her safety, but enough that I wondered why she was out of bed. But also, shifters were usually immune to common human ailments. It wasn’t normal for ones such as us to suffer this way.
“Sunny—” I reached for her, but the priest interrupted.
“Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Miss Fallon. You’re late. That’s just earned you another session.”
She sighed, and her shoulders straightened. “With you?”
He narrowed his gaze. “Aye. With me. Would you like to make it two?”
Her eyes narrowed right back. “You know I love it when you make me count for you, Father.”
Murmurs filtered through the class, causing Sunny’s face to pale even more. Clearly, she realized she’d crossed a line.
“Sit,” Father Gallagher said. “All of you.”
Sunday glanced around the room, searching for an available seat. When her gaze landed on Kingston, she scowled. He lifted an arm, tossing it across the back of the pew in clear invitation for her to join him. She ignored him, turned, and selected a pew on the opposite side of the room in the back.
Moira and I followed after her, making eye contact and sharing an unspoken seating arrangement. As Sunday settled in the middle of the bench, I took a place on her right side, offering her a smile and a wink as I did. Moira walked around to the other side of the row, ready to take her place on Sunday’s left so she’d be flanked by friends. Something wasn’t right with her, and neither of us wanted to leave her vulnerable.
Unfortunately, we weren’t the only ones with a plan. Kingston rose from his seat at the front of the church and stalked to our pew, not bothering to say anything as he claimed the spot on the other side of Sunday before Moira could.
She huffed at him. “Bad dog.”
“If you’re quite done,” Father Gallagher said, having watched the entire incident play out.
I couldn’t help but notice he had been acting oddly ever since Sunday set foot inside the church. He was rubbing at a spot on his chest, his expression troubled. My gaze darted between him and Sunday, wondering why the priest was so interested in her.
In fact, tension filled the church, an edginess that was undeniable. Something strange was in the air, settling in my chest and filling me with restless unease.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as Father Gallagher began his lesson. I didn’t hear a word he said. With each passing second, unease mounted. It didn’t help that Sunday continued to tremble beside me. Her small hands balled into tight fists as she fought against uncontrollable shivers.
“Sunny, what’s wrong?” I whispered when I couldn’t take her discomfort any longer.
“Nothing. I’m fine.” She offered me a tight smile.
“You’re not. You have a fever.”