Looking around, a small smile touched Cesare’s lips. They’d gotten more out of today than he could have hoped for. Jerold wasn’t a bad guy; they’d had him dead to rights and the man had known it. But the students wouldn’t see that, all they’d take away was that Jerold would butcher you for bait if the going got rough.
Elizabeth walked into the dragon’s line of sight, locking eyes with the terrified thing. “I warned you.” The words went no further than the three of them. “I told you, if you hurt him again, I’d tear you from the heavens and feed you to my ravens.” Two of deaths favored alighted on her shoulders, lifeless eyes staring down at the encased dragon.
“They'd peel the meat from your face, plucking your eyes from your skull, worming beaks into your mouth for your tender tongue.” Crouching, she faced the dragon as terror ate him from the inside. “I’ve seen it. Watched as they stripped a man’s flesh from his skull.”
Her eyes settled on his terror streaked eyes for a long minute while the room watched. Only the Furies could hear her words, but everyone knew she held the boy’s life in her hands. She’d face repercussions if she killed the snake, but Abraxas would still be dead.
“My ravens will look after you while you think on the consequences of choosing to go against powers that existed before your kind slithered from the slime that birthed them.” Straightening, she smiled down at the dragon’s unsteady expression. “This is your last chance.”
Walking away, the Furies fell into step around her. Perched around the room, the ravens stayed behind, eyeing the captured dragon hungrily. Abraxas swallowed heavily, visibly struggling to contain his terror. Cesare had to give him credit, if he’d been encased in stone, he’d be screaming for help by now. The dragon wasn’t a person who pretended to be strong, he was strong.
Keeping close to Elizabeth, they followed her to the classroom. Cesare waited for the door to close before he asked the question they were all wondering. “How long are you going to keep him there?”
Elizabeth walked slowly to the windows, looking down at the still, dark campus outside. “I’ll let him stew until lunch. That should be enough time to think on what it means to cross me.”
Turning, she took in Cesare's beaten face, burned skin, and cut lips. She’d seen it all yesterday, but even with a day to heal it looked bad. “I’ve tried to tell you that you matter. We’ve done our best to show you that you're important, but we can’t fix …” She sighed as the words slipped out.
Looking around, he added the words they wouldn’t. “You can’t fix me.”
Wincing at the words, the women looked away but didn’t argue. Cesare rocked back on his heels, anger flooding his system. Maybe he was broken, but that didn’t mean he wanted to hear anyone say it. He could call himself a fuck up, but to hear it from the people he loved … it hurt, and it never stopped.
He’d never be normal, popular, or balanced. He was a shattered, maimed thing, his soul twisted into a caricature, a monstrous reflection of what he could've been. He didn’t mind dying for what he cared for because he didn’t value his life. If dying pushed his goals forward, he'd pay the price without thought. Only the objective mattered, because the rotten meat he was made of had never been important to anyone, not even him.
The problem with self-worth was that it didn’t matter what anyone said, or how many said it. It only mattered what you knew in the eternal midnights. No one could make you worthwhile, no one could save you from the demons that lurked in the corners of your heart. And no one could make you love yourself. It came from deep inside like an ever-filling spring or you died a slow death as your soul withered from within.
“We can’t change your opinion of yourself,” Miss Raven said, anxiety adding crow’s feet to her eyes. “But we can make sure the school knows we think you're special. We care about you, your worth fighting for.”
They watched him, each trying to find the words to salvage the wreck this had become. They’d meant the best, but it only took a few misplaced words to ruin something beautiful. No matter that they were all different, they all thought he was broken in some fundamental way. Even Alexandra with her madness looked at him as something fey, a mangled thing with only could have beens in its past.
Sitting down, Cesare pulled his books out, eager to make this moment into a memory. As interested as he was in moving beyond the tangled, barbed thing the moment had become, the women were even more so. No one wanted to sift blindly through the jagged razors their words had become.
All of them had become past masters at moving forward, pushing the hard and hateful behind them and putting one step in front of another. By the time the students trickled in, the words had faded into something that didn’t matter in the now they lived in.
Cesare watched the students, Elizabeth had slowly gained their respect over the past year. It was small things that clued him in, the lack of a sneering tone, the shortage of nasty words said behind her back, the added attention they gave in class. It was a sea change; one he was eager to see continue.
After this morning, there was a new respect that hadn’t been there yesterday, a realization that Miss Raven was a power not to be trifled with. She'd faced down a leader of killers, a man known for his dominant strength and power. The ease with which she’d taken down the dragon proved how strong she was. Seeing her castrate a dragon with nothing more than look said more than words, it was touchable, provable, a standard they could know.
Cesare smiled at the latest evolution of a long-term plan he’d kept to himself. There was no reason why Elizabeth shouldn't be revered. If this was where she wanted to be, then she’d be appreciated for the special person she was. On the other hand, if she wanted more, than he’d insure she had the tools to make dreams into reality.
Even as Miss Raven started class, the three of them kept working on their private assignments. A boundary existed around the Furies that was as impregnable as it was invisible. They didn’t want anyone; they didn’t need anyone, and no one was welcome. Those that came close to that barrier faced the uncompromising eyes of the Furies, and there wasn’t a kid in class that could meet that depth of cruelty.
Driven, disciplined, and capable of anything, the three stood out. Ruthlessly capable, they wanted things from life and meant to take them, even if they had to turn the school into a warzone of the dead and dying. They’d butcher the world to achieve their goals, burn their souls to ash, and bath in the blood of innocents to satiate their desires.
It scared them. It wasn’t natural to be so driven, for them to be obsessed with things that weren’t school, sex, or video games. Some kids respected it, most found it freakishly disturbing. That each of the Furies was capable of murder didn’t help.
Getting up as the bell rang, Cesare slipped his books into his bag. Eager for lunch, kids streamed to the door. The last book fit into his duffel bag with the girls already packed and ready. Cinching his duffel over his shoulder, he leaned against the desk, eyes settling on Miss Raven as she wiped the board clear.
Anastasia and Alexandra looked between the waiting Cesare and the slowly moving Miss Raven. He knew they wanted to go, to get to the cafeteria and start the next part of their day. Neither girl liked sharing the weekdays with Miss Raven, resenting having to give up any more than was absolutely necessary. While it was no secret how he felt about the dark-haired teacher, they steered clear of addressing it unless forced.
When Elizabeth finished clearing the lesson off the board and putting her materials away, she met him at the door. “You didn’t need to wait.”
Shrugging, Cesare felt his duffel dig into his shoulder. “You said you'd let Abraxas out. It’s important to be seen as a team, that they can’t break us apart and run us down one by one.” The girls relaxed at his words, realizing he wasn’t setting a new precedent of having lunch with Miss Raven. Territorial and possessive, neither was willing to come in second.
Spreading out, Anastasia took the point of the arrow next to Elizabeth with Cesare to the right and an unhappy Alexandra in the far left spot. It was important that they showed the school what they expected. While Cesare was the driving force behind the Furies, it was Anastasia that was the leader in the school’s eyes.
“I’ve been approached by several alumni,” Anastasia said quietly. “Our last showing made an impression; they want to lay the groundwork in case we come out on top.” She grinned at Cesare. “Right now, it’s only the small fish, those that give under a hundred thousand a year to the school, but I think the whales will come around soon.”
Cesare nodded, sharing looks with Alexandra and Elizabeth. “The tides turning, and they don’t want to get caught on the wrong side of a wave. Are they willing to promise anything?”
Shaking her head, Anastasia kept Cesare in the corner of her eye. “No commitments, yet. I think they want to open a line of dialog. A lot of talking about how important the work we’re doing is and how proud they are to have us at Primrose.”
“Everyone loves a winner, and no one wants to know a loser,” Cesare said quietly.
“It’s more than that,” Anastasia said just as quietly. “Most of them come from families that have supported Primrose for centuries. They’ve sent their kids here for generations, each student handed over to the Thagirion to care for.”
“Since the beginning, the Thagirion's been about keeping the students and school safe. It’s a sacred trust between the families and the Thagirion. The strongest are meant to be a wall of fury and flesh that protects the weak. They're meant to create a place where predators can meet prey without seeing fear in their eyes, a place where they can be more than killers and meat.”
Anastasia was the only one that had been a Thagirion, the only one that looked at the group as anything but sadists looking for cheap thrills. She’d come to Primrose hoping to be part of them, of making the school safe for the rats scurrying around the cats. Sure, she’d gone into it with an agenda, wanting to form a base of worshippers. But she'd believed in their mission and wanted to help the rabbits, the two needs complementing each other.
Cesare had been beaten, degraded, hurt, and disemboweled by them. They would never be anything but a cancer. Kids with power were as self-regulating as Ebola. He’d be surprised if it had ever functioned as intended, but that didn’t change the ideals that underpinned its existence.
Elizabeth had been one of the kids needing protection. Not physically, but she'd needed someone to shelter her gentle soul. It was the Thagirion's job to be there, to protect those that couldn't protect themselves, instead, they'd laughed at the screams that begged for help.
Alexandra wasn’t in any of those boxes. While Elizabeth had needed a friend and Cesare protection, Alexandra had needed a safe place. Somewhere she felt comfortable being herself, where she didn’t have to hide who she was, where she knew there were others that understood her. But the Thagirion had never tried to understand her, they’d abandoned her until the only way the school could relate to her was through fear.
But this wasn’t about them or even Cesare, this was about Anastasia. For her, the Thagirion was something more, a purpose, one she believed in. Even if that belief came second to her desire for power.
“Second thoughts?” Cesare asked, watching the akatharton.
“No,” Anastasia said without hesitation. “I believe in the mission the Thagirion was given but I don’t think they do. This is a once in a lifetime chance to create a power base, an image, a legend that will propel me into the halls of power, but I wish it hadn’t come to this.”
She wanted to be one of the good guys, even as she grabbed power with the grace of a starving tiger. Anastasia was a glutton; she wanted the power of a devil and the halo of an angel. Life isn't like the movies. Villains win the day and get the girl; they live long lives draped in money and power. Hero's die alone, forgotten icons diseased with ideals, until even those snakes find dens in other flesh. “You wish you could have stayed and changed them from the inside, instead of tearing them down from the outside.” Anastasia looked away from his knowing eyes. “Sometimes you have to burn a garden to ash before you can plant something new.”
The women eyed him with speculation. He’d never talked about the overreaching plan, keeping them centered on the here and now. The future had no meaning if you didn’t place one foot in front of the other, thinking about the top of the mountain didn’t do any good when you were on the trail.
None of them asked the question that burned in their eyes. His need to control his life and those around him was pathological, but that didn’t change his knack for making dreams come true. If you could have what you wanted at the cost of your freedom, would you make a devils bargain?
Miss Raven pushed the cafeteria door open, the room going silent at their entrance. It was more than the sable coats of wet black that ran like sin across the Furies shoulders, it was the cloud of viciousness that cloaked the four of them. Before, Miss Raven had been an afterthought, not really part of the Furies and their savage pursuit of power.
Miss Raven had never fit; she’d never had a group she belonged too, never found her tribe, lost in the no man's land between here and there. Even with the teachers she was the odd one out, forced to creep along the borderline of acceptance. She'd gotten so used to conditional friendships she'd given up on anything more.
That had changed. Today she’d shown her power was insurmountable, with only myths like Lady Kali beyond her. They'd dismissed her as a leper, a woman from a race of misfits, an unwanted nothing, she'd shattered those beliefs. She stood on top of the slaughtered reputations of Abraxas and Jerold, showing the school she couldn't be ignored.
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They'd seen the Furies in all their cruel glory. It might have been possible to push Elizabeth to the side, not with force but subtle games of power. But that was before she had the backing of Alexandra, Lioness of God, Daughter of the Grand Master of the Knights of the Dragon. And Anastasia, Lady of Ruin, Daughter to the Mother of Destruction. With those two at her back, she had all the political capital needed to force the Umbrae Lunae to deal with her.
As they walked across the silent cafeteria under the sorrowful eyes of Medusa, a girl stood up at a far table. Her face was grotesquely swollen from a shattered jaw wired shut, an arm wound in a thick cast slung across her chest. A simple steel arrow hung from a leather thong wrapped around her neck. Lithe and sleek, she had the ruthless eyes of a hunter.
Atalanta got heavily to her feet next to the girl, a black thorn cane clenched in a white knuckled grip. One side of her face was lined with black, wet looking stitches from where the doctors had flayed her skin open to reconstruct her cheek bone.
A smaller girl levered herself up, her leg swathed in a thick cast from ankle to thigh. Wide shoulders stretched her uniform, adding to the almost unnoticeable hunch in her back. The slightly wide, ape like face was all the identification Cesare needed.
The girls around them rose in unison. They all shared powerful builds, hard faces, and trim bodies. Each and every girl a fighter, born to a clan of warriors tracing back to the mists of forgotten times. Staring out at the shocked faces of the student body, they raised their hands to their breasts in salute to the Furies and the Raven that lead them.
Across the way, a raw boned boy stood, his uniform draped over his muscled frame with the grace of a potato sack. He’d been shaped by the hundreds of fights he’d been in; thick scar tissue giving him a heavy brow that shadowed his eyes. Flesh that should have been young had turned paper thin and coarse as leather. Weathered and old before his days, his eyes had seen the hell of beating men for fun and profit. He was big and rough, ruling with an iron rod, but Sampson commanded the respect of Cerberus.
Radiating out from him, rank by rank, they stood from aspirants to dogs. They all had the same look, ruler straight uniforms, ironed white shirts tucked into slacks, dress shoes shining from this morning’s polishing. Short cut hair denied an enemy an easy hold and hard bodies of muscle, they looked like the military group they were. Each was better dressed than their leader, and yet from the top to the bottom, they’d die for him.
Cesare met Sampson’s eyes, knowing the hidden meaning behind the boys show of support. It was a down payment on Cesare’s promise, a not so subtle reminder that Cerberus had a lot of meat to throw at a problem. Not all battles could be won with numbers, but it sure didn’t hurt. If Cesare reneged on his promise to the big man, he could expect a very short life expectancy.
Alexandra gave the members of Cerberus a suspicious look threaded with contempt. She had good reason to dislike the gang and those feelings wouldn’t be going changing soon. It was everyone’s right to decide what they stood for, both the people they loved and the people they hated.
Anastasia looked at the gang and back at Cesare with a speculative expression. She’d get it out of him later, but he didn’t think she’d mind. While she was dealing with the real movers and shakers that controlled the school from the shadows, he was more concerned with the boots on the ground. The people she was making deals with were the ones that could stop them on a dime without ever raising a punch. Cesare was focused on the ones that would do the punching.
Elizabeth stared at the mass of people who were standing for her with a queer mix of wonder and raw vulnerability. “They’re yours,” Cesare said quietly, the words pulling her eyes to him. “It’s only a beginning, and nowhere near what you deserve. But Cerberus and the Scythians will back your play from here on out.”
Elizabeth searched his eyes for the truth, looking for the canker in the rose. Every beautiful thing before had hidden catches, a secret betrayal that bit just as you lowered your guard. Cesare met her eyes with only the truth.
“You did this for me?” Elizabeth whispered, shocked and humbled at the blood he'd shed to get to this spot.
“For all of you,” Cesare said, eyes taking in the girls. “The deal with Cerberus will make them an ally that'll fight to keep you in power. They’ll give you the soldiers to check the other gangs. You might be able to push that influence into the wider organization outside Primrose.”
Stopping, Elizabeth looked at the students standing in silent support of her. “I’ve never had anyone stand with or for me. I was always the outsider. I wanted … this.” Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “Words will never be enough but thank you.”
Cesare nodded, looking away from the raw emotion in Elizabeth’s eyes. He knew how much it meant to her; he'd felt that crawling joy every time the girls stood with him. A craven, needy thing that just wanted someone, anyone, to care about him. He got her need, because he lived it.
“Will they stay loyal?” Alexandra asked, voice low and skeptical.
“I didn’t buy their loyalty. I wove their dreams into your rise to power, stitched flesh to flesh with your success, they gain everything by supporting you. Your failure would tear a wound that would bleed them out into shadows of who they are. That’s as loyal as we'll ever get.” The three nodded, after all, it was the only reason they were loyal to Cesare.
Each of the women was with him for one reason and one reason only, because their desires were woven into his. Cesare was useful, they knew their needs, the demons that drove them mercilessly, could feed from his flesh and blood. He’d gouged out meaty chunks of still quivering flesh and offered it up with a grin. Butchered his body and threw the gobbets of bleeding meat to their monstrous needs. He’d fight for them, and in the end, he’d die for them.
Across the way, Jerold walked through the still room from the teachers table. Black slacks offset a bleached white dress shirt that hugged his muscled build. Cold and composed, the man moved over the ground with the grace of a fighter, balanced, ready, and dangerous. There was a grimness to his walk, an awareness that only comes from clear planning and careful preparation. This morning, the frozen bastard was caught on his back foot, but now he’d had hours to plan.
Sarah walked at the icy man's side, a deep blue dress swirling around her slim body, offsetting mocha skin. Threads of white flickered through her hair as her nature surfaced. While Jerold never lifted his blue eyes off Elizabeth and the Furies, Sarah swept a knowing look over the students standing in support. Jerold was focused on the confrontation; she was calculating futures. While it was only two of the gangs that ruled the school’s shadows, they were the most disciplined and militant of a lethal group wedded to murder.
Stalking behind the two with a familiar feral stride, Viktor gave the Furies and Elizabeth a careful once over. He was close enough to show his solidarity but far enough away to hold onto his rouge status. The man’s blue jeans were worn thin, molded to his legs and muscled ass. A white tank top showed shredded shoulders and dense musculature. Everything about the man radiated a clear, tempered mastery of lethal skill.
The group walked through the cordon formed by the ravens. Cawing with affronted rage, death’s beloved flapped rough wings of obsidian black. Doll black eyes flashed with cruelty as they jumped to other tables and chairs, eyes darting from the intruders to the dragon buried in stone.
The ravens parted for Elizabeth, allowing the Furies to follow her into the circle created by the grim reapers birds. Tension tightened the air as the groups eyed each other over the silent head in the ground. There wasn’t much to be said, their positions said it for them.
“This game has gone far enough,” Jerold said, the words coming out in a slow wash of cold vapor. “You’ve had your fun, let the dragon go.”
Sarah placed her hand on Jerold’s shoulder, threads of milky white running through her dark hair. “We didn’t come here to fight.” Smooth and quiet, she watched Elizabeth with white eyes, a pearlescent sheen shimmering across them. “I understand the point you’re making Elizabeth, but I think it’s time you let the student go.”
A subtle gesture from Cesare sent the Furies spreading out, each locking onto a threat. Alexandra's eyes met those of Viktor with an eager, wanton look. They’d tangled only once, and the vampire was eager for a rematch. Anastasia watched Jerold; it was an obvious choice for the akatharton. Anastasia could call on the kind of power that would put down a tank, her profane flame would shred his ice powers. Cesare let his eyes settle on the three teachers, he was the reserve, held back to support or dart into a sudden weakness.
“What point do you think I'm making, Sarah?” A threat ran under the skin of the simple words.
Sarah eyed Elizabeth, unease drawing lines on her face. The guys with her had shifted as they watched the professional way the Furies had spread apart, the lanes of attack the kids opened and the distribution of force. It was too knowing to be a sudden choice, speaking of calculation, plans set in reserve, a killing held in reserve for the right moment. It wasn’t a sudden choice; it was a practiced and true maneuver. And the terror in that realization spiked deep, in the teacher’s eyes.
Viktor raised onto the balls of his feet, muscles tensing in preparation to lock with the vampire. Resignation hung over the big man in a tattered cloak. Cesare wasn’t sure what had brought the guy here, but he could imagine this was the last place he wanted to be. Viktor had faced the Furies more than once; he was the only one that knew how dangerous the group was.
Jerold’s mouth tightened, his own balance changing from passive to active. Hands loosened, frost coating fingers, his true nature coming to the surface. While he’d never seen the Furies fight together, he still swept the group with a careful, testing eye.
“That we need to take you seriously,” Sarah said, smiling. “I know the school's built on your land, and that you have a certain standing with your people. We don’t say it as often as we should, but we all appreciate the work you do in keeping the grounds beautiful. I know I’m not the only one that's come to you for help with a lesson plan either. We should give you more respect.”
Elizabeth looked at the male teachers poised on the edge of sudden violence. A tight smile drew across her face as her eyes lit with anger. “You think this is about my pride?” The whisper pulsed with eldritch power, hidden dimensions pushing along the strings of reality, obscene things turning crazed, roiling eyes in her direction across fathomless distances. “You think I'm doing this for a pat on the head? That I'm so shallow I need to show you my mastery in a misguided attempt to be accepted?”
Fey, untamed energies wove into the air as Elizabeth’s anger transmuted and transformed the world around her. Primordial things rose from the darkness of disbelief, nightmares of corrupted flesh dimpling the fishbowl of reality, things beyond space, older than time, came to her call. “Cesare was almost beaten to death by Abraxas on Saturday.” Looking at him, Sarah’s eyes drifted over Cesare's face in dawning understanding tempered by disbelief. “Abraxas beat him bloody for the crime of stopping him from killing Blaez.”
Shaking his head, Viktor looked away from Cesare in dismissal. “I’ve seen the kid look worse. Maybe they got into it, but I’d bet the dragon was just teaching him whose cock was bigger. Boy’s gotta settle whose top dog.” Jerold nodded beside the man before catching himself. They might be on the same side, but that didn’t mean they had to like each other.
“Is that what we’ve become? As long as they're standing, everything is forgiven? So glad we don’t have to step in and get our hands dirty we’ll overlook anything short of murder?” Elizabeth asked.
Shaking her head, Sarah’s blind eyes glared back at Elizabeth, her hair turning white as snakes fangs. “That’s not what he’s saying, you’re putting words in his mouth. What he meant was that the boy doesn’t look beaten half to death. If what you’re saying is true, I’d expect worse.” Stopping, Sarah smiled at Cesare. “I think it’s more likely he’s trying to impress you.”
Alexandra gave a low, vicious hiss, fangs slowly dropping from her mouth. “Are you calling my Lord a liar?” It was the quiet, dangerous warning of a snake before it strikes, a jaguar’s tilt of the head before it crushes your skull, the glazed dead look of a great white before it snaps its jaws shut around you.
Hearing the deliberate tone, Sarah looked over at Viktor in question. Cesare wasn’t sure what Sarah’s powers were, but he knew one thing. Dealing with a crazed werewolf wasn't anywhere near the level of taking on a cold, precise killer.
They all locked onto the sudden movement as a student stood from his table. Walking across the grave still cafeteria, Blaez dodged around tables and chairs without taking his eyes off Cesare. There was a confidence in Jerold’s face that wasn’t out of place. Blaez was a Thagirion, one of the elites. In the past, Jerold had gone to bat for the boy, and if it was one thing Cesare knew, wolves were loyal. No matter the good turns Cesare had done Blaez, Jerold had history with the kid.
The ravens eyed the werewolf suspiciously. They trusted few creatures in the world, and he'd never be one of them. Without hesitating, the wolf chose his side. Coming up to Cesare, he fell into place beside him, facing the teachers shocked outrage.
“Abraxas had me pinned to the ground on my knees, if I’d changed, he would have popped my head like a bottle cap. He was going to kill me, told me so himself. Hell, the fucking room was full of people, ask any of them.” Taking a deep breath, he didn’t hesitate, even if there would be no coming back from this. “Cesare stopped him. He took the beating meant for me. He didn’t have to, had every reason not to, but he did.”
Blaez stopped, eyes hardening into agates. “You didn’t see it. You can stand there all you want and say it was kids playing grab ass, but I was there. Abraxas took him apart, beat him into the ground, turned him into a hunk of bleeding meat. He couldn’t stand, fuck he could barely breath, the only thing he could do was bleed. I’ve beaten people down before, but I’ve never stripped a man that low, never taken his manhood from him.”
Briefly, Blaez looked at Cesare before turning back to Sarah. “I followed him up the stairs, but I don’t know how he made it. Nobody helped him, he didn’t ask, and I didn’t offer.” Blaez shrugged uncomfortably under the glares of the women but didn’t make excuses. “I watched him puke his guts out across the hallway, each time he fell, I thought he’d stay down but he just kept getting back up. Cesare did what he always does, he took care of himself.”
Elizabeth slipped into the stunned silence before the three teachers could say anything. “When is it too much? When do we finally see enough and say no more? When do we take a stand for the kids we’re supposed to protect? We see them come to class beaten, watch as they’re broken bit by bit into crippled versions of who they were. We see our students prey on sensitive souls and do nothing. Tell me Sarah, when are you going to have the time to save a child? When will you step forward and save a kid whose only crime isn’t being strong? Because the Furies are doing it every day.”
The silence hung there as Sarah refused to meet Elizabeth’s eyes. The room hurt with the raw truth Elizabeth had set free in it. They were teachers, adults and powerful Umbrae Lunae in their own right, yet no student that Cesare had ever met had ever had any luck going to them for help. Bullies maimed their bodies and hearts, breaking them down until they went gray with shadows, depression and melancholy a swamp they’d never be free of.
“I didn’t know …” Jerold said quietly.
“Would you have done anything? Did you do anything for those that needed you when you were leading the Thagirion? How much less would you do for a man working to destroy what you loved?” Elizabeth words were delicate scalpels slicing into his crystalline heart, showing the black ice at its core.
Standing tall, she faced the chastened faces of the three teachers. “Alexandra and Anastasia went after Abraxas because of what he did. I not only back them, I'm ashamed I wasn’t with them. It’s a hard day when I have to be taught what’s right by girls half my age. No one, no matter their money or power, is above the Furies vengeance. They may not deal in justice, honor, or good, but as someone once told me, it’s more important that evil's stopped than whose doing the stopping. At the end of the day, they’re all the students have.” Stopping, she looked over at Cesare for a long minute. “It’s one of my life’s greatest honors to be their faculty advisor and their friend.”
Backing away, the teachers gave up the ground to Elizabeth, having gotten more than they’d planned for. With a gesture, the ground liquefied, lifting the dragon out of his entombment. Drawing away from him, the liquid slurry hardened into the stones they were familiar with.
Burns marked the dragon’s black skin, splashing from his chest down his shoulder and thighs. Livid red, they had the slimy, wet look of liquefied skin, charred muscle glaring out their agonizing pain. Broken, his face was a disjointed jigsaw of shattered bones, nose splattered across flesh, jaw bones lumpy messes of splinters. For all that, he stood with his dignity intact, defiant in the face of Elizabeth’s power.
A shadow lived in those eyes, humiliation, the child of shattered pride. He’d been broken today, he didn’t know it yet, couldn’t see it through his own pain. But the women had taken his power. Abraxas still thought he was in the game, but he was nothing now, stripped of power, skinned alive, and left as a monument to the Furies vengeance.
“You’re excused for the rest of the day,” Elizabeth said quietly, holding the dragon’s eyes with hers. “This is your second warning Abraxas, there will be no words if you cross me again.”