“Sure,” she says. “Ready?”
I close my eyes, prepared for the cold metal to burn against the mark, but then Aliz’s phone starts ringing. “Shit,” she says, and draws the weapon away. I notice, just by the way she holds it, that she must know how to use it. She grabs her phone and whispers, “Fuck.”
“Who is it?” I ask.
“Faust,” she says.The Night Dean?She answers the call, and another language pours from her lips, fast, her voice slightly higher. Her native Hungarian, I realise. She glances over at me and my neck, and then shouts something into the phone. The only word I make out isnem,which she says several times, and I’m guessing, based on her expression, that it meansno.
Finally, she hangs up, lips pursed.
“What is it?” I ask.
“He wants to see us.”
“Us?” I say. “Why? Have youtoldhim?”
“Of course not!” she says. “But Faust has eyes everywhere. It’s all right.” She paces around the room, still holding her sword. “Even if he knows, he’s not going to tell my dad. I mean…” She looks at my neck again. Aliz is so nervous that when she bites her lip, she draws blood. Her wound heals instantly. “We’ll be fine!” She doesn’t sound convinced.
“He won’t be able to tell your father anything if the mark is gone,” I say, gesturing at the blade hanging at her side. Aliz jolts, as though she’s only now remembering it’s there.
“All right,” she says.
“And try to avoid beheading me.”
“I don’t usually behead people,” Aliz replies, face serious. I lean against her coffin, and she stands just a little too close. She raises the blade carefully, and I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the metal to burn me when it touches my skin. Instead, it’s like a sheet of ice.
“Did that hurt?” she whispers. I breathe out slowly and meet her gaze again.
“It didn’t,” I say. “Is the mark gone?”
Aliz leaves the sword on the coffin and runs a finger over my neck. “No,” she says, voice grave. I swat her hand away, trying to not think about how good her touch felt.
“Let’s go, then.” I find my tartan scarf and wrap it tightly around my neck.
“Right.”
Dread prickles my stomach once we leave our room. What if the dean has finally discovered what happened with the Red Ribbons? And now he’ll expose me in front of Aliz.No,I tell myself. He wouldn’t have left me alone with her if he suspected me of being anything but an ordinary human.
It’s dark out, so we’re able to walk through the woods separating Tynarrich from the main campus buildings. Old lampposts, black and gold, fringe the narrow path that snakes through the woods. I realise, as we skid down a slope, that it’s my first time seeing her outside. She walks fast, her brogues sinking into the fallen pine needles, and I run after her. “If the Night Dean knows, what’ll happen to us?” I ask.
“I guess we’re about to find out,” she says.
We head intoone of the largest buildings in Tynahine, the first floor made up of colossal lecture halls, and the second a row of offices. At the very end of the hallway, Aliz stops. I stare at the sign.Dr FaustNocth.There’s more writing beneath the name, but Aliz doesn’t give me time to read it, banging on the door.
A smooth baritone rises from inside. “Come in.”
Aliz takes a deep breath. Which doesn’t help me feel calm. “All right,” she whispers.
She walks through, and I follow. The room is a simple office, walls lined with bookcases. A large glass desk sits before a boarded-up window, an old tapestry hanging overit.
“Hello, girls,” Faust Nocth says. He smiles up at us from behind his desk, and a chill runs down my spine. His black hair is long, falling just past his ears, his cheekbones are high and sculpted. I’d been hoping to stay away from Tynahine’s administration as much as possible. And yet here Iam.
“Dean,” says Aliz. She says a couple of words in Hungarian, and then remembers I’m here. “You wanted to see us?”
“I don’t usually pay attention to what my students take out from the library. But three days in a row of borrowing books about blood contracts, and well, I’ve grown rather concerned,” he says, his smile revealing his deadly fangs. I swallow hard. Well, at least he hasn’t figured out I’m a hunter. “Can you take off that scarf, Miss Smith?”
There’s no helping it. Aliz makes a sound of protest, but I ignore her, pulling it down. I just hope she hasn’t left me with a hickey.
“I can explain,” Aliz says, her cheeks bright red.
