“Where’d the cat come from, by the way?”
“Cat Distribution System,” she says with a straight face, not missing a beat.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I mutter.
“On a more serious note, Nyx—” she starts. Aw, I was having fun disassociating from my trauma with humor. “About the soulmate marks—aside from Dr. Mercer and one of her nurses, we’re the only ones who know about them, I suggest you keep it that way for now. While soulmates aren’t necessarily rare in our world, to have so many of them is quite…”
“Fucked up?”
“Unexpected. Combined with your significant power, they make you even more of an anomaly.”
“Until we meet with the Council and learn more about your powers,” Brandt adds, “it does you no favors to share that information.”
“Roger that.” I salute sarcastically.
They all stand, but before leaving me alone to trauma dump onto my new emotional support cat, the Headmaster adds, “I have asked Dr. Mercer to inform me when you are discharged so I can notify the Council when we are ready to meet. I’ll contact you once that’s scheduled to make arrangements.”
“Fabulous.” I roll my eyes and he turns, but then I remember?—
“What happened to Luther?”
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
“Like… is he okay? Is he going to face any disciplinary action for what he did to me?”
When he hesitates, I immediately understand that no, there won’t be any consequences. Shocker.
“He’s still recovering, from what Dr. Mercer has communicated. Given the unique circumstances, the Council has directed me not to take action until after the Council hearing.”
“Even though he could have killed me?”
“Yes.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“I wish I had a better answer for you, Ms. Byrke.” He sighs, before walking out with Brandt following behind. The cat, who’s now at the foot of my bed, tracks them as they finally leave. I half expect it to hiss at Esmé when she passes by, but she offers her hand out for it to sniff and it blinks slowly, resettling its tail to cover its paws.
“Take care of our Daughter of Night, hm?”
“What does that mean?” I ask, remembering how Augustine said something similar the night she brought me to Dreadhurst.
“You bear the Goddess of Night’s name.” She shrugs. “It’s bad luck to spurn any of her children.”
“It’s just a random name the caseworker picked when they found me,” I mutter, looking at the cat to avoid her pity.
“Even so. I’m not one to tempt Fate,” she winks, and then she’s gone too.
The cat lifts a paw and starts to clean itself.
“I’m so totally fucked, aren’t I?” I ask.
It sneezes in response.
32
NYX
The woman in the mirror no longer glares at me with red-brown eyes. Now, when she rakes her gaze over my body through the post-shower condensation, she traces the new muscles that flex under glowing skin, the wet curls that now reach her waist. She’s strong. Healthy. The only thing I recognize about the lonely, starving girl I used to be are the dozens of silver piercings in her ears and a thin septum ring.
