The Gray Institute (The Gray Institute Trilogy Book 1) (16 page)

Other couples begin to dance again, maintaining a long distance from Lorna and I, and they continue to stare, muttering in one another's ears. Lorna closes what little distance remains between us, bringing her lips dangerously close to my neck, her hot breath prickling my skin as she speaks.

'You're brave,' She mutters quietly, staring straight over my shoulder. I give no response, shrugging slightly as I attempt to avoid her meaty, sweet smell. The hunger is brewing in the pit of my stomach, becoming hard to bear and even harder to control.

'Alec will have your guts for garters.' She reminds me and the hunger is instantly replaced by a desperate, sinking feeling.

I have made a mistake.

I should never have approached Lorna Gray. I should have heeded every Mentor's warning and stayed away from her. There's a reason no-one speaks to her, a reason no-one acknowledges her and the worst part is – I already knew the reason.

I keep asking myself why?

Why did I approach her knowing the consequences were dire? Why did my feet decide to grow their own brains and disobey mine?

It's too late now to redeem myself, too late to struggle for an explanation I don't have – what's done is done.

And I was doing so well – up until now.

'As long as you enjoy yourself.' I mutter, the sound of defeat clear in my voice. She laughs coldly but her eyes soften a little as she cocks her head inquisitively to the side. She is so small, so delicate beneath my hands that I'm terrified I'll crush her accidentally.

'Surely the look on his face is worth it?' She asks, nodding in Sir Alec's direction. I reluctantly turn to face him, dreading the sight. My breath catches in my throat, forming a lump like a golf ball.

Sir Alec leans forward in his ornate chair, his arms draped casually across his parted thighs. He glares steadily in our direction, his grey eyes glittering as his mouth curls into a menacing grimace.

He has no intention of halting our little dance, he seems content that the consequences afterwards will redeem his dignity.

'Excellent.' I mutter sarcastically, averting my gaze as Lorna laughs loudly. 'You seem to enjoy angering your father.' I muse, gritting my teeth as the true weight of my actions bears down on me.

I spot Tia amongst the shell-shocked crowd, her face a picture of terror as she clings to Richard's arm for support. He pats it reassuringly but his expression doesn't fool me; he's equally worried and – like Tia – his eyes scream a silent question.

What the hell are you doing?

'He's not my father,' Lorna spits suddenly, her face reddened with anger. 'And of course I want to irritate him. Why else would I dance, or even converse, with one of you?' She eyes me with disgust, her demeanour suddenly changing. Her green eyes gleam with hate, her top lip curls and her chest, neck and cheeks turn scarlet, sizzling beneath her pale white skin.

I falter, stumbling over my steps a little. 'I'm sorry..?' I shake my head, releasing her hand, removing mine from her waist. She sniggers once again, raising an arched eyebrow to stare at me in pity.

'You didn't actually think I wanted to dance with you? To talk to you?' She asks. I blanch, lost for words.

'Oh, bless you.' She laughs, tilting her head back, letting her hair fall in waves along her spine. She drops her arms to her sides and throws me a condescending glance.

'Thank you for the dance.' She smirks, taking a step backwards. She doesn't give me time to reply before she spins on her heel, beckoning her bodyguard and returning to the platform. She takes her seat by Sir Alec's side, who simply throws her a disapproving glance before returning his focus to me.  

I stare after her, open-mouthed, unsure of what just happened. She didn't want to dance with me, or talk to me, she just did it to anger Sir Alec.

Deliberately.

She dislikes Immortals; '
Why else would I dance, or even converse, with one of you?
'  

'
One of you
' meaning my kind. Our kind.

A tight grip on my arm is dragging me through the crowd, pulling me hastily, throwing me through the double doors. Tia slams me against the wall with more force than I realised she was capable of and reels on me, her eyes wide and wild. 

'What the hell do you think you're doing?!' She screeches, her voice deafening and shrill; a pitch only a dog could hear. Her face is inches from mine as she grips my shoulders, digging her sharp fingers into my collarbone. I open my mouth to speak but she cuts me off, slamming me against the wall again. 'Have you gone completely insane?!'

Richard hurls himself through the ballroom doors, his eyes wide but focussed as he grips Tia's arm.

'I think we should move.' He suggests, eyeing the open double doors. There is silence in the ballroom.

'I think it's a little late for that.' Tia scoffs, her amber eyes glittering in the torch light.

'Still, let's not draw any more attention to ourselves.' Richard mutters, steering Tia towards the lifts and beckoning for me to follow.

We ride the lift in silence up to mine and Tia's floor, Richard's eyes fixed forward, Tia's glaring at me. I understand her worry, her anxiety, but not her seething fury.

She didn't force me to approach Lorna Gray, I did that on my own. Though perhaps she could have warned me, or at least enforced the silent warning.

I have ruined her night, Richard's night and my night – though I've probably made everybody else's nights. But after all is said and done – it is only I who will bear the consequences for breaking an unspoken rule.

And they said I was intelligent.

Chapter Thirteen

The following day, throughout Theory and Languages class, I anxiously await the call to Sir Alec's office. I know it will come – it's only a matter of time. By fourth period I'm almost praying for it to happen as the anticipation takes its toll.

Despite Tia's rage directly after the incident, she'd calmed down considerably during the night. Eventually, she'd become nervous and scared – even more so than I. She clung to my arm wherever I went and stiffened at any mention of Sir Alec's name.

She remains withdrawn and quiet all through morning break. Even Richard's flirting fails to draw her from her introverted mood. I have a niggling suspicion that Tia blames herself for what happened, that she's perhaps thinking she should have warned me, that perhaps she'll be in trouble as my Mentor for seemingly allowing me to approach Lorna Gray.

Fourth period is Practical and, as usual, we line up outside the hall. Most of my fellow students are still staring at me, though some have grown bored with the attention I'm getting. Whispers and hushed voices follow me through the corridors, rooms fall silent when I enter – even the tutors are having a hard time around me.

The hall doors swing open and we file uniformly inside, gathering along the far wall opposite Alexandrov and the near-mute Katarzyna.

'Today we will be focussing on the necessary skills and techniques for attack,' Alexandrov address us and excitement ripples through the crowd. 'You must learn how to advance on your prey undetected, and make a swift, clean kill.' He continues, bouncing with energy. I try to focus on Alexandrov's instructions instead of the various violent scenarios playing in my mind, all involving Sir Alec.

'Using your Mentors as dummies,' Alexandrov continues. 'You will individually demonstrate an attack which you feel is suitable. Do not be afraid to use force and remember your main objectives; swift and clean.

O'Brien, Miller, you're up first.'  

Tomos and Richard step forward to the centre of the hall. Richard rolls his eyes in exasperation as Tomos throws him a desperate, pleading look. Richard turns pointedly so that his back is to Tomos, indicating that he should attack from behind.

The two men stand separated by ten feet as Tomos hesitates, deliberating his best angle of attack. He studies the back of Richard's head as Alexandrov waits patiently, absent-mindedly tapping his foot. 

After what feels like a lifetime, Tomos finally drags in a deep, unnecessary breath before launching himself forward, moving with surprising speed. He leaps like a ballerina onto Richard's back.

Richard remains standing, his posture barely disturbed. Tomos hangs pointlessly, his arms draped around Richard's neck, his knees wrapped around Richard's waist in an embarrassing and bizarre imitation of a piggy-back. 

The class sniggers as – with an embarrassed grin – Tomos slides off Richard's back. Richard turns to him, smirking, and gives him a cheeky wink. Even Alexandrov struggles to keep a straight face as he folds his arms, addressing Tomos with amusement.

'An outstanding attempt, O'Brien,' He smirks. 'However, I don't believe I need to point out the mistakes you made. Had Miller been human, he would have merely toppled to the ground and splattered his pretty curls all over the floor.' He raises an eyebrow, gesturing for them to re-join the crowd.

'Not particularly clean or skilful.' He adds, casting his eye for the next couple. 'Green, Dregdan, take your place.' He orders, beckoning Tanya and her Mentor, James, forward. 

They, too, separate themselves by about ten feet, but Tanya decides to attack James head on, crouching on the floor and springing – like a big cat – before gripping the suspended hanging bars on the ceiling. She drops instantly, landing on James' shoulders, realising her mistake at the same time I do.

She too has used too much force, forgetting that her target is a weak, fragile human. Whereas James remains firmly rooted, a human would crumble at the knees, hitting the ground like a sack of potatoes. 

Tanya climbs down from James' shoulders and holds her hands up in surrender when Alexandrov opens his mouth to speak.

'I know, he would have splattered.' She sighs with resignation.

'Not only that, but being on Dregdan's shoulders isn't the best angle to access his jugular vein.' Alexandrov adds. He dismisses them and I shudder as his eyes fall on me. 'Ryder, Carey.' He nods..

Tia barely looks at me as we step to the centre of the room. She positions herself and I follow her obediently, remaining a few paces behind.  Alexandrov folds his arms and raises an expectant eyebrow.

I remember his words; swift and clean. I remember Tomos and Tanya's mistakes – mustn't let her splatter.

I study Tia's slight frame, her sharp pointed elbows, her jutted narrow hips. If she were human, she'd break without much force at all. I doubt, in fact, if I would choose her to attack rather than wait for her to fall of her own clumsy accord.

I decide that an attack from behind will best serve my purpose; it minimalises shock and fear and heightens the possibility of a smooth, clean kill. I take a step forward to gain my balance, and poise to sprint, spreading my legs wide and stretching my forearms. But the sudden opening of the heavy hall doors throws my concentration and I lose my footing, stumbling a fraction before straightening, just in time to freeze in horror as Sir Alec strides confidently into the room.

Tia turns abruptly to me, throwing me a petrified glance. Her eyes are bright with fear as we wait for Sir Alec to beckon me forward.

He pauses, his eyes steely as they sweep the silent room; some students smile confidently in recognition, others bow their heads, avoiding eye-contact. I dither over which approach to take as the grey irises come to rest on mine, the ball of green fire flaring ferociously in the depths of his pupils.

I neither smile nor bow my head as I stubbornly return Sir Alec's glare, watching him slide his folded arms into the creases of his dark coat.

Alexandrov hesitates, not sure whether to proceed with or halt his lesson. Sir Alec waves a dismissive hand, allowing Alexandrov to continue as all eyes return to mine and Tia's staged attack. 

Tia trembles silently, her bony knees quivering as she attempts to hide her fear. I take a deep breath, expanding my lungs, and I try to ignore Sir Alec's unwelcome presence. I narrow my vision, focussing solely on the back of Tia's head, play-by-playing my attack in my mind's eye. 

Once more, I bend my knees; parting my legs, readying my body for my swift and strong movements. The atmosphere is charged with hostility and excitement as each student's eyes flicker curiously from Sir Alec to myself. Not one of them missed my costly mistake with Lorna Gray and they're eager to witness the consequences.  

Tia doesn't flinch as she hears my quick, light footsteps; her shoulders remain broad, her posture poised – ready. I judge my distance – two feet – before springing from the floor, stretching my legs to curl around her waist. Her knees buckle beneath me – I am stronger than her – and she attempts to remain on her feet, but the impact of my body combined with my weight is too much for her and she topples, plummeting towards the ground.  

I shoot my right arm out as she descends, shielding her face from the floor, cushioning the blow with my forearm. With Tia immobilised beneath my legs, I straddle her, pressing my torso against her back; forcing her to lie still beneath my weight. I breathe gently on the side of her neck as she lies silent, her cheek pressed against my arm in submission. I shift my weight from on top of her, standing with ease and extending my hand.

She takes it graciously and allows me to pull her up, flashing me a proud grin, keeping my fingers entwined with hers. I turn to face Alexandrov – whose mouth is gaping open – and feel a sense of achievement swell in my chest. 

Not since my mother has anyone looked at me that way; eyes shining with wonder, mouth beaming with pride. 

'Ryder, you're a natural!' Alexandrov exclaims with genuine surprise and I smile politely, not sure if I feel pleased or insulted at the news I'm a born killer. I cast a nervous glance at my classmates' faces; some beam and flash me thumbs up, others purse their lips in envy and irritation. Logan Marshall looks set to explode as Alexandrov claps his hands and for a moment, I forget all about Sir Alec.

That is, until my eyes meet his.  

I shrink back inside myself, my momentary elation dissipating as Sir Alec glares; arms folded, stance aggressive. My gaze wavers as I notice an unfamiliar expression settling on the headmaster's features. A combination of bemusement, shock and possibly... admiration?

His eyebrows knit in confusion as he studies me, the green blaze amidst his pupils fading to a dull spark as he rubs his chin thoughtfully. 

I turn my face away from him as Tia and I re-join the group, but his unmistakeable, penetrating stare continues to pierce my back, sending chills along my spine. The room is silent as Alexandrov, Katarzyna and my fellow students await Sir Alec's reaction anxiously.

I detect a sense of disappointment in some of my classmates – particularly Logan Marshall – as Sir Alec remains still, his lips firmly pursed. He seems to be hesitating, deliberating something.

Alexandrov shifts impatiently, tapping his foot a beat and succeeding in snapping Sir Alec out of his trance-like state. He shakes his head once to clear it, before giving me one last puzzled glance as he turns and strides purposefully from the room.

I stare after him, open-mouthed, as Tia tugs on my arm forcefully.

'He's gone!' She exclaims in a loud whisper as the rest of the class breathes a sigh of either relief or disappointment, depending on how much they like me.

I wait – frozen – for Sir Alec to return; wait to hear his quick footsteps, the swishing of his long coat. But the hall remains silent until the students begin to move. 

'It's a trick,' I murmur in Tia's ear as Alexandrov relaxes, congratulating the class on a brilliant lesson. 'He won't let me get away with what happened. You know it and I know it. He's lulling me into a false sense of security.'

'Why would he do that?' Tia wrinkles her nose, frowning.

'I don't know, because he's sick?' I shrug, never once taking my eyes from the hall doors. 

'Did you see the way he looked at you?' Tia mutters, a hint of jealousy barely hidden in her tone.

'Like he was Simon Cowell and you were a topless soprano singer.' Richard's familiar Glaswegian lilt interrupts as he slings an arm around Tia's shoulders.

'Shut up, Richard. I could have held you, you know,' Tia turns to me with a shrug, her tone blasé. 'I just thought it would be cool to show the class what it would really look like, you know, if a human went down.'

Richard and I exchange subtle glances and try not to laugh.

'Of course you could, flower. We don't doubt it.' Richard assures her, his tone just a little too sarcastic. 

*

'Double Practical, why?!' Tia whines as we head out for afternoon break, me trailing behind Richard and Tia, my thoughts distracted by Sir Alec's strange reaction. The courtyard is empty, the frost thick as we perch on the stone bench beside the stream.  

'Everyone loves Practical.' Richard states, kissing Tia's cheek and pulling her onto his lap. It's bright and sunny for a cold November day. The sky gleams brilliant white, the sun a blinding orb behind a sheet of thin cloud. The narrow stream's surface is frozen solid, the resident ducks vanished and the tall willow tree hangs lifelessly, its long branches drooping sadly across the thin ice. 

'I wonder if he'll wait and pounce on you when you least expect it.' Tia muses, dragging her pixie boots through the frozen dew, distracting me from my observation of nature and pushing Sir Alec back to the forefront of my thoughts. 

'Thanks, Tia.' I smile sarcastically, fishing a cigarette from my pocket and lighting it, deliberately blowing smoke in Tia's direction. She takes a smart step backwards. 

'No-one's seen Lorna Gray since that night, you know.' She shrugs, a glimmer in her amber eyes as she waves toxins out of the air. 

'No-one ever sees her, you fruitcake.' Richard replies, winding a strand of Tia's short, dark hair around his forefinger. It's times like this I miss the company of Meredith; even with all her morose brooding and distant longing of Malachy Beighley, at least I don't have to play gooseberry with her around.