PROLOGUE
Eyes gritty from lack of sleep, head pounding from exhaustion, Steven Proctor sat waiting for the phone to ring, dreading the conversation he was about to have with Marcus Reynolds, one of the clan elders. Nothing had gone right since he’d been promoted to Dean of the college, a job he’d wanted even less than the one the clan had guilted him into taking over three years before. Not for the first time, he wondered how he’d let his life get so far out of his control.
It had all been simple enough for the first few years. Watching over the boys had fulfilled his obligation to the clan and allowed him to continue on his own path, but all that had changed when the former Dean had been exposed as a criminal, throwing the school into chaos. When he’d been tapped to succeed the corrupt man, he’d tried to turn down the position, knowing that the elders wouldn’t be happy with him moving up, but the Regents wouldn’t listen to any of his flimsy excuses, and in the end, pressured him to take the job. Now he was stuck between the two and trying to make everyone happy, which was proving impossible, especiallywhen it became clear that a clan war was slowly developing on campus.
His cell phone ringing on the desk in front of him made him jump and he quickly reached for it, desperate to silence the high-pitched notes emanating from the little device and making his head pound even harder. There was little question who would be on the other end of the line, but he answered as if he had no idea who would be calling him in the middle of the night.
“Proctor, you’d better have a good explanation for what’s been going on around there,” Marcus Reynolds barked into the phone. “I just spent an hour on the phone with someone from the Syracuse Clan. They claim that you’re letting the students run wild, that Diego’s breakdown was your fault, and that you are demanding death duties from the clan.”
He was too stunned to speak for a second but finally found his voice, “You’ve got to be kidding! He bombed the stadium, he defaced the science building, and then tried to blow it up. He threatened other students! Jackson was only doing what he had to do, he would have killed Abby, and we both know it,” he said, his head beginning to pound again. “I can’t believe you’re even listening to that…”
“Steven, relax. We’re not taking any responsibility, but neither are they.” Marcus interrupted before he could go on. “They’re trying to push the story that Diego was working completely on his own. They’re claiming that they had no idea what he was doing. His fraternity brothers haven’t been any help, either. They’re all sticking to the same story, that they were just following orders, they didn’t want to be involved, but he threatened them.”
“So, all the blame falls on Diego, and he’s not here to defend himself. That’s a bunch of bull…” he said, then let out a long sigh. “They’re lying and we both know it. This won’t end with Diego.”
“I have to agree, but I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do about it,” Marcus said. “That’s why I need you to handle things from your side. We can’t let the Syracuse Clan get to the boys; they’re our future. I hope I don’t have to explain to you again why this is so important.”
“I’ve heard enough about the dream team to last me a lifetime,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. “I still think the whole thing is a mistake. All these secrets we’re keeping are going to catch up with us one of these days. If you were just honest with the boys, it would make everything easier.”
“You know that can’t happen. We have a plan, and we’re going to stick to it.” Marcus said, a hard edge to his voice. “Just do your job and leave the details to us.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he said. “You’ve made that more than clear as well.”
CHAPTER 1
***TAYLOR***
Squinting at the bright morning sunshine, Taylor climbed the steps of the building that had become his second home over the last few years, then paused at the top to take a long sip of the coffee in his hand. Feeling the burn as it went down, he waited for that first burst of energy, then took another long drink, wishing the dark brew would start working its magic. Looking around at the nearly deserted campus, he wondered how he was going to make it through an entire semester with little to no sleep, but reminded himself that their problems, Diego and the Kappas, were over, and his time would be his own again.
Taking another sip of his coffee, he looked around campus, grimacing when his eyes settled on the stadium and its ruined bleachers, then let out a long sigh, knowing that he was a fool to think that it was all over. Diego had taken the fall for all the recent problems on campus, but he didn’t believe for a second that he’d acted on his own, no matter what the clan leaders wanted them to believe. Someone was behind the attacks on campus, someone much more powerful than a student or even a fraternity, and his gut toldhim that it was their rival clan. He just couldn’t figure out why they wanted to cause problems at the school in the first place.
Draining the cup with one final sip, he turned and headed inside the old brick building, wishing he was looking forward to class instead of worrying about the school's fate. There wasn’t much he could do; the clan wouldn’t recognize the threat, and Dean Proctor was completely in the dark, a regular human without any knowledge of the magic around him. His hands were tied for now until something else happened; silence and vigilance were his only choice, but he wasn’t sure he had the energy, not with his new financial endeavor finally beginning to pay off.
The thought of all the lovely money slowly stacking up in his bank account brought the first smile of the day to his face and he reminded himself that a little lost sleep was more than worth the freedom he was slowly earning with each deposit. It had all been a mistake really, a mistaken pizza delivery late one-night last summer, an invitation to join a poker game, then walking away the next morning with a pocket full of cash and a vision of what the future might look like.
Now, months later, low-paying part-time jobs a thing of his past, he’d learned how to use his intelligence to line his pockets with the money that would finally allow him to begin the painful process of breaking free of the clan. Not that he was even close to that goal yet, but he was learning, sharpening his talent and biding his time until he could afford to hit Las Vegas for a big score. That would be just the beginning. If he played it smart, he could hit the big casinos multiple times, and maybe by the time he graduated in the spring, he’d be sitting on a pile of money.
There was still a smile on his face when he walked into the classroom, but it quickly faded as he took a seat in thefront of the room and braced himself for the boredom he knew was coming. It wasn’t a new problem; he’d been bored in school for as long as he could remember. He was just getting worse at hiding it from teachers and other students, especially when he was tired like he was that day.
Only a few seconds later, the classroom's back door opened and Professor Whitmore appeared, his grey hair sticking out in all directions, his arms full of books and papers, which he dropped onto the desk with a thud before pausing to look around the room. After shaking his head and letting out a long sigh, the professor pulled a stack of papers out of the pile, and he remembered the test they’d taken the week before. It was clear by the excited whispers around the room that the rest of his classmates hadn’t forgotten, and the room began to fill with tension.
Professor Witmore stood at the front of the classroom listening to the students whispering about their grades. Taylor couldn’t help but smile with confidence knowing that he didn’t have to worry about his grade; he never did. When the whispering finally died down, the professor cleared his throat, then came out from behind the desk and began placing the corrected tests upside down on the desks in front of his classmates. His was the last test in the older man’s hands, and he just shook his head at Taylor when he put it down in front of him, then walked back up to the front of the classroom.
“I know that you’re all anxious to see your grades but I’d like to take a minute of your time before you flip those tests over,” he said, a look of regret on his face. “This has been a difficult semester for all of us. We’ve all been a bit on edge and I’m afraid your test results aren’t going to make things any easier, but I want to assure you that we’ll work through this together.”
Silence fell over the room when the professor paused totake a breath. The tension in the room was suddenly laced with a tinge of panic, and he even wondered if he’d somehow flunked the test. Finding himself squirming with his classmates was a new sensation. He looked around the room at all the worried faces and then turned back to the front, but his eyes were on the test in front of him.
“Before we discuss your scores, I just want to say a couple of things.” Professor Witmore finally continued. “First, this test was designed for all three of my senior classes, but since we’re down to only one class, that affected the scores. Second, something I never thought would happen has occurred. One of your classmates received a perfect score, further distorting the final grades. I’m afraid that there’s not much of a curve, thanks to that score, so many of you will be disappointed, but I don’t want you to worry. We’re going to find a way to raise your grades. This should not be a test that makes you fail this class.”
Taylor breathed a sigh of relief. There was no doubt in his mind that he was the one who scored a hundred on the test, but the feeling drained away a second later when he realized what he’d done. Cursing his mistake, he stared down at the test, wondering how he was going to explain his perfect score if someone asked, and he was sure that they would. Before he could come up with a plan, Professor Witmore gave them the okay to flip their tests over and the chaos that followed made it impossible to think.
***Emily***
Emily’s hand was shaking as she reached out to turn the test in front of her over. She’d never failed a test in her life, but there was always a first time, and she had a bad feeling that this was it. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly, then with a quick flip of her wrist turned the packet over, herentire body tensing when she saw the grade circled at the top of the page. She’d tried to prepare herself, tried to convince herself that one bad grade wouldn’t be the end of the world, but seeing it so boldly written in bright red ink made her stomach twist painfully.
Forcing herself to inhale and exhale, she stared at the top of the first page at her grade, then blinked several times just to make sure she was seeing it right. Her heart started to race as it sank in that she’d gotten a D on the test, not quite failing but close enough, and she couldn’t help but envision her academic career slowly going down the drain.
“Hey, are you okay?” Valerie asked, a look of concern on her face. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
