Juliet Dark - The Angel Stone

“No,” I said quickly. “He didn’t do anything to you. Frank—I mean Professor Delmarco—had a word with him, and then I brought you here, since you didn’t look like you could make it back to the dorm.”

Ruby blushed again. “Oh, Professor McFay, I am so mortified! I don’t usually drink, but the hot apple cider was so delicious and the boys said it had only a teensy bit of rum in it. It was kind of spicy, so I couldn’t really taste the alcohol.”

“Spicy?” I asked, peering closer at Ruby’s eyes. “What kind of spices?”

“Gosh, I don’t know. It reminded me of my gran’s pumpkin pie. And after I drank one, I wanted more … Oh, my, do you think they put that date rape drug in it?”

Ruby’s hazel eyes were wide and flecked with gold—which might have been her usual eye color or it may have been traces of Aelvesgold. Was that how the nephilim were going to accomplish Project NextGen? By spiking girls’ drinks with Aelvesgold?

“I don’t know, Ruby, but I’m going to the dean to complain about their behavior. In the meantime, tell your friends to stay away from the Alphas, and Ruby …” I hated having to en-spell the girl—she’d been tampered with enough—but I couldn’t risk her telling anyone about last night’s adventure with Frank at Alpha House. I leaned toward her and injected the gentlest of memory-expunging spells into my next words. “It’s important no one knows that Professor Delmarco and I were at Alpha House. Do you understand? Professor Delmarco and I were never at Alpha House .”

Ruby blinked. “Sure … whatever,” she said. “Hey, is that coffee I smell?”

I made breakfast for Ruby, who ate with the appetite of the very young. By the time she left my house—in borrowed jeans and sweatshirt—she didn’t look like a girl who’d been out carousing last night. When she was gone, I showered and dressed and then spent the morning grading papers and searching through my folklore books for any references to a hallow door that could be opened only on Halloween. Although I found many references to fairy sightings on Halloween, there was no mention of a particular door.

I walked to campus, enjoying the brisk September weather and the touches of fall color already tinting the trees, until I got on campus and noticed the orange flyers that had replaced the magenta ones—as if the virus had mutated. They were stapled on every bulletin board and lamppost. The Alphas couldn’t be throwing another party so soon … But when I read the flyer, I saw that no one would be throwing any parties anytime soon.

Attention from the Dean’s Office , the flyer read. Due to an act of vandalism last night at the Alpha Delta Chi House, all social functions and gatherings of more than six are hereby suspended until further notice .

“Man, that blows!”

I turned toward the voice and recognized Scott Wilder, who had been in one of my classes last year and was in the fairy tales class this year.

“Hey, Scott. When did these go up?”

“Dunno. I just got up. There was an email, too.” He grinned. “But I don’t have to tell you, Prof. I heard you and Mr. D went all vigilante on the Alpha House and schooled those dudes.” He held his hand up, palm out. “High five, Prof! That was epic!”

“Where did you hear all that, Scott?” I asked, gingerly slapping Scott’s hand.

Scott rubbed his head. Leaves fell out of his thick dirty-blond hair. Where had Scott been sleeping? I wondered. “Dunno, but everybody’s talking about it.”

Had my spell on Ruby Day failed? Or had someone else spread the story? But the only other person to witness the event was the Alpha whom Frank had punched, and it seemed unlikely that he would have spread the story of his inglorious trouncing by an over-thirty professor. Puzzled, I headed into Fraser Hall and upstairs, thinking I’d stop by Frank’s office, which was down the hall from my mine, and see if he had any ideas about who had leaked the story. When I got to the top of the stairs, though, I saw that my office door was wide open.

I should probably get Frank, I thought, instead of confronting an intruder on my own, but I was already crossing the hall, my skin itching at the violation of my space. I charged into my office, banging the door wide open, and found Duncan Laird standing in front of my desk, looking up at my bookshelves.

“You really do have an interesting collection of folklore here, Professor McFay,” he remarked, unperturbed by my dramatic entrance. “But nothing on angels or the Bible. Have you ever considered doing a class on angels?”

“No,” I snapped. “How did you get into my office?”

“The same way you got into mine,” he replied, turning and smiling blandly. “If you look at your door, you’ll find the traces of my skeleton-key spell, just as I found yours.”

I touched the lock but saw nothing.

“Use the spell,” he suggested.

“Adulterina clavis,” I whispered. An image of a skeleton key with an ornately carved bow appeared on the handle—a much more elaborate key than the one I’d used on Duncan’s door.

“Really, my dear, don’t you recall the lessons on wards I gave you this summer?” He smiled lasciviously. Before I knew that Duncan Laird was a nephilim, I’d thought he might be my incubus, and I’d let him get … well, a little too close . The memory made my skin crawl. “If you’d paid attention and read Wheelock’s footnote, you would have learned that the one downfall of the adulterina clavis spell is that it leaves a trace of its user—a sort of caller ID, if you will. If you like, I can show you how to block it.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I said, leaning against the doorframe and folding my arms over my chest. “You’ve made your point. Did you have anything else to say?”

“Yes. I want to apologize for the behavior of the Alpha Delta Chi brothers last night. It’s come to my attention that some of them behaved rudely to female students. I’ve reprimanded them, as you suggested yesterday, and suspended their party privileges for the rest of the semester.”

“I saw the flyers,” I replied warily. “It sounds like you’re prohibiting all parties for the rest of the semester.”

“Well, yes, that seemed the most expedient course of action. If I permitted other parties on campus, the Alphas would no doubt cause trouble.”

“So expel them,” I said. “It’s not fair to punish the whole student body because the Alphas can’t control themselves.”

“It’s the safest course of action for now. You do agree that the priority should be keeping the students safe, do you not?” He smiled, showing a lot of white teeth. I shivered, feeling the implied threat behind his words.

“Yes, so why not expel the Alphas?”

Laird’s mouth remained stretched in a smile, but his eyes darkened. “That would be premature. They need to learn to assimilate to … college life . As part of their rehabilitation, I’ve ordered them to perform community service. And if all goes well, we can reinstate social gatherings in time for a Christmas party.”

“Christmas?” I repeated. “What about the Halloween party? It’s a Fairwick tradition—”

“A pagan tradition,” Duncan cut me off, all trace of his smile disappearing. “It’s time Fairwick gave those up. I would think that after your experience with monsters and ghouls you’d be the last person to want to celebrate Halloween.”

“I have a fondness for candy corn,” I replied.

“I’d get over it,” he suggested, moving toward the door. “There’ll be no Halloween party, and,” he added, tapping the lock on my door as he walked past me, “in pursuance of our mutual goal of making the campus safer, I’ve ordered all the locks to be changed to spell-resistant ones.”