The Gray Institute (The Gray Institute Trilogy Book 1) (15 page)

All of you, by now, should know your Head of Year; Ms Aaliyah Fall, who has been with us for many years and will be a great asset to your education,' He pauses, allowing Ms Fall to nod in acknowledgement. 

'It gives me great pleasure to introduce to you our other Heads of Years; Ms Clementine Roosevelt – second year Head,' he gestures to the plump woman in the fuchsia pink cardigan, who smiles politely and fluffs her brown curls.

'Mr Brian Fermentine – third year Head,' The tall balding man stands, self-consciously straightening his ageing black suit and red tie.

'Ms Penelope Carmel – fourth year Head,' The young blonde woman stands elegantly, flashing a white-toothed grin.

'And finally; Mr Archibald Ferguson – ' The feret-faced man with a hunch back stands, his grey-brown hair slicked back with oily wax.

' – Fifth year head.'

He doesn't introduce the young human girl, who keeps her head down and tries hard to be invisible. I try to catch Tia's eye, noting – with irritation – that she seems utterly unsurprised at the presence of a human. But she's too engrossed in Richard to notice me.

'I won't bore your young minds with endless speeches,' Sir Alec continues, trying hard to ignore the hushed whispers of bemused first years, who stare at the human girl with hunger in their eyes. 

'I will simply bid you a good evening and say that I wish you the very best of experiences over the next five years.' He nods humbly at the crowd before taking his seat between the human and Penelope Carmel. The music returns, vibrating the marble floors and rattling the windows as a few couples self-consciously take to the dance floor.

'Tia!' My hiss is much louder than I intend it to be and I grab the attention of the entire table. 'That girl is human!' I whisper ferociously. Tia frowns, turning to follow my line of sight.

'Oh, yes,' She pats my arm comfortingly, though I don't know why. 'That's Lorna Gray.'

I widen my eyes, glancing from Tia to the human and back again.

Lorna Gray.

Gray.

As in Sir Alec Gray? 

'Sir Alec's daughter.' Tia answers my unasked question. 

'Is that possible?' The question is out before I can properly think it through.

'Well, of course she's not his biological daughter,' Tia answers as if I'm an imbecile. 'That would be impossible. She's adopted, like the Auctorita children.'

'So, one day she'll run the Institute?' I nod, understanding until Tia shakes her head.

'No, Sir Alec wasn't supposed to... heads of Institute's don't generally adopt children. But Sir Alec chose to.' Tia shrugs, avoiding my gaze.

I'm lost. I don't pretend to know the ins and outs of Sir Alec's personality, but I do know that he wouldn't adopt a human child of his own accord – he doesn't have the heart for it. 

There's a story behind it, but I can't figure out what it is.

'She's not eighteen yet.' I muse, more to myself than Tia but she nods anyway.

'Seventeen. But her birthday is only a few months away.' Tia's voice is grave, but I don't know why. I don't get a chance to ask either as Richard stands, extending a hand to Tia. They head away from our table, down the winding stairs and onto the dance floor as a slow tempo song begins.

I focus my gaze on Lorna Gray as she sits alone amidst the group of Tutors. Sir Alec is deep in conversation with Mr Fermentine and ignores his daughter's presence altogether. Her shoulders slump as she fidgets with her dress, visibly uncomfortable as scores of first years – including me – continue to stare. 

I can't help wondering if Sir Alec has entirely thought his human daughter's situation through. Surely he can't think it a good idea to throw her into a room filled with bloodthirsty Immortals, twenty of whom are newly transformed and don't have complete control over their desires? He can't believe that she's comfortable being paraded on his platform like a trophy?   

'Excuse me.' I mutter into the silence, only realising then that Meredith and Peter are sitting awkwardly together, avoiding eye contact whilst Meredith stares longingly in Malachy's direction.

I slide my legs out from under the table and hurry down the staircase, aiming to catch a better look at the human. Though I know I'm watching her like a kid in a zoo, it's been so long – or so it feels – since I saw a human – since I heard a heartbeat.

I push my way through the crowd, keeping my sight trained on her. She seems bored and lost all at the same time, unsure of herself and out of her depth. It doesn't seem unusual given the fact that she's a solitary human in a room full of Immortals, but what does seem strange is that beneath it all – the tension and the anxiety, the fear and the panic – is a confidence buried so deeply it's almost invisible.

But I notice it.

As I hurry through the crowds I grip the shoulders and biceps of my fellow students, inching them gently out of my way. Most of them ignore me, a few of them tut with irritation, and one speaks my name in a familiar voice.

'Malachy, hey.' I smile briefly, forgetting myself for an instant.

'Malachy?' A snide tone to my right is followed by a harsh snigger. I don't need to look to guess who the voice belongs to. 'First name terms already?' Lucrezia raises an eyebrow as I attempt to slide past her. 'You need to be careful, Malachy. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort of people.'

I ignore her, pushing through the crowd, away from her and Malachy to head for the platform. My mind is as much focussed on escaping Lucrezia as it is getting closer to Lorna Gray.

I stop a few feet away, pressing my back against the wall, keeping out of Sir Alec's wandering eyesight. 

His daughter remains a stone statue, speaking to and addressing no-one as she watches the crowds beneath her tiresomely. I study her subtly, careful not to appear too interested or stare at her for too long.

I've lost sight of Tia and Richard but Lucrezia stays nearby, casting me the odd sideways glance.

Lorna Gray makes her first movement since taking her seat, leaning over to mutter in Sir Alec's ear. His jaw hardens but he nods once, beckoning over the closest waiter and gesturing at his daughter. She stands and moves gracefully to the edge of the stage, teetering down the wooden steps and onto the floor, followed closely by her waiter/bodyguard.

She stays a few feet from the edge of the crowd at all times, maintaining a distance as though a partition of glass separates her from the rabble. First years stare, their eyes hungry as she glides purposefully by, teasing them – coming a little too close for comfort.

She heads across the room, towards where I stand, and stops before the wall, folding her arms and observing the dancers.

Besides the first years, no-one acknowledges her. In fact, some students go out of their way to ignore her, glazing their eyes over as if she isn't there. A handsome first year boy – who has been eyeing her closely throughout her short journey – suddenly strides in her direction, his jaw set in a determined line. He manages two steps before his third year Mentor grabs his arm and pulls him back with tremendous force. 

I sneak a little closer to the elusive human, careful not to get too close, but I stop abruptly as her bodyguard's eyes graze mine. He has clocked me and is watching closely for any further movement. His eyes aren't the only ones vying for my attention though; behind him, a pair of mossy green irises catch my gaze, holding it until I anxiously look away. 

Without knowing or properly comprehending what I intend to do; my feet start forward, stepping one in front of the other in a familiar pattern. I stare at them in their laced black boots, willing them silently to stop. But they keep stepping, taking me in the clear direction of Lorna Gray. My mind is screaming
Stop!
but my body won't listen.  

Her guard finally acts, stepping in front of her to block my path. He eyes me coldly, his lips pursed, ready to attack. I brace myself for the force of his blows, knowing with just one more step I will breach an unspoken law – one of Sir Alec's own.

Lorna Gray pokes her head over the bodyguard's shoulder, eyeing me with interest as she chews thoughtfully on her lip. 

She places a slender white hand on the guard's shoulder and he glances back quizzically. She nods slightly and he steps aside, keeping uncomfortably close and glancing nervously in Sir Alec's direction.

Sir Alec himself is watching me like a hawk; I don't need to turn to see him, I feel his gaze on me – like searing heat on the back of my head.

Lorna Gray smiles a little, the corners of her mouth twitching. I have no answer as to why I approached her – I don't know myself – but I smile back hesitantly all the same.

'Hello.' I address her simply, feeling stupid. She eyes me carefully, her expression confused. She's even more beautiful close up, her eyes are very pale; like lily pads in the midday sun. She glances at Sir Alec, her soft lips parting slightly before she takes a small step backwards. 

I hesitate, turning to leave, assuming she has caught her father's eye and heeded his silent warning, but the sound of her deep voice halts me.

'Hello.' She replies, raising a dark eyebrow.

'Eve Ryder.' I introduce myself, formally offering my hand. She glances at it warily as her eyes dart once more in Sir Alec's direction. The bodyguard shifts uncomfortably on his feet, leaning towards me – ready.

Lorna Gray ever so slowly raises her arm, placing her delicate hand in mine. Her touch is electric, one thousand volts crippling me. Her blood flows smoothly beneath her skin, her pulse slow and steady, like a drum vibrating through to the very core of my soul. Her scent is delectable, rich and meaty; the scent of her blood.

'Lorna.' She replies softly, not offering her surname. Her hand lingers in mine for a moment as I run my thumb across her thin skin. She feels as delicate as a butterfly's wings and so very alive, throbbing and pulsing as her blood travels through her veins. She's warm, as hot as a flame and I drop her hand quickly, steadying myself. My throat burns with desire and I cough to clear it, avoiding eye contact as I take a calculated step backwards.

The room has fallen silent and I'm keenly aware of hundreds of eyes resting on me, on Lorna – on Sir Alec. They watch with baited breath, the atmosphere charged. The music thumps on as the crowd stands still and I panic, blurting out the first thing I think of.

'Would you like to dance?' I kick myself as I say it. Not only shouldn't I be talking to this girl at all, I definitely shouldn't be inviting her to dance. Mostly due to the fact that I don't dance. Not at all. I've already drawn too much attention to myself, why make things worse?

The young girl frowns, cocking her head to the side – a slight smirk on her lips – as though asking me a silent question.

Are you crazy?

I wait for her inevitable reply – a laugh, a scoff – and I cringe as the room takes an audible gasp. Lorna Gray's mouth twitches, the beginnings of a smile, and I take yet another step backwards, poised to retreat. But to my surprise, she shrugs casually, her dark hair falling over her shoulders.

'Okay,' She replies, offering me her hand. 'Thank you.' I clasp her warm skin once again and on shaky legs, lead her through the parting crowd to the dance floor. My breathing quickens and I keep my eyes firmly on the ground, avoiding the gawking stares of students and turning my face away from Sir Alec. The few couples remaining frozen on the floor sidle away, awarding Lorna and I a tremendous amount of space.

As we take our position in the centre, I place my hand delicately on her waist, hearing her sharp intake of breath as she, too, avoids her father's gaze. She steps forward, clasping my hand and closing the space between us as she awaits my lead.  

I don't have the faintest idea how to dance properly. I've never attended an occasion where the need has arisen and – judging by Lorna's posture and stance – she's more than educated in fine dancing. She sniggers – realising my dilemma – and begins to lead, placing her left foot forward and urging mine back. After a stumbling start, I fall into her rhythm and quickly learn the steps as we glide gracefully across the floor.

The music isn't quite right – a modern pop song – but it's slow enough to keep a steady beat and after a few minutes, I can lapse my concentration, stare straight into her eyes and enjoy the dance. She's smiling, revealing perfect white teeth and as she speeds up, her long dress billows around my ankles.