Page 54 of The Order of the Bitter Hunt

“Why not?”

“Because”—I sigh—“you were never supposed to be a part of this. I want to keep you separate… and safe.”

“It’s too late for that. I don’t want to be separate from that part of you. I don’t think I ever would have wanted that.”

“Maybe itistoo late, and I’m happy to have you here now… but there are still some things we can avoid.”

They smile softly. “You’re right. I guess this makes sense, as far as boundaries go.”

“It’s a good boundary to have. I’m sure you don’t want me feelingeverythingyou have going on in your head.”

They pile their plate up, surely a sign that our stress is behind us. “Probably not.”

They’re eating. I’m drinking. Everything is as it always was.

“I’ll figure something else out. I always do.”

I passProfessor Connolly in the hallway. She’s strong compared to my weakness; her head held high as she dons a bright smile. While the rest of the campus is silent and shaking, she’s the picture of bravery. She was one of the first to teach me that demons aren’t all intimidating—not as much as Jun is—and the warmth in her expression speaks to that.

Some considermeintimidating, so if someone is daunting by my standards, that’s saying something. But Professor Connolly isn’t. She has been kind to me since we met, and it’s because of her that my performances have improved.

It makes her current treatment of me jarring, but I don’t think she means to be unkind. If anything, giving me a smaller role is the perfect opportunity to enrich another student. I understand and support it, but the part of me that longs for the spotlight doesnot.

“Are you all right?” Professor Connolly asks, stopping in front of me.

I’m not expecting her to stop and chat. She has places to be, and I’m not her only student, nor am I her favorite. Recent occurrences prove that.

“I’m great,” I say, forcing a smile.

“That’s wonderful to hear.” Yet, she lingers. “And how is your father?”

Small talk—easily my least favorite thing, including the pungent scent of garlic, but I’ll bear it for her.

“He’s doing well, but I’m sure he’ll be better once my mother arrives—which is soon. The mood around the manor is always glum when she’s away.”

“Then her return will be a good thing. I’ll have to send her flowers, or perhaps a fruit basket. Flowers evoke memories of funerals, don’t they?”

I tilt my head to the side, considering her words. “I suppose they do.”

And no one wants to remind a Turned vampire of their funeral. Of being buried in the ground, only to dig their way out.

“Well, I just wanted to stop and catch up. While you were initially unhappy with the casting, I can see the work you’re putting into the play. I welcome it.”

“Working this hard for a minor role is admirable, don’t you think?”

She chuckles. “It is. Perhaps next semester’s play will go better for you.”

“I hope so. I don’t have much time left at Strode, and Ineedto make my mark before I go.”

“The casting was never meant to deter you from doing just that.” She pats my arm briefly. “It was supposed to light a fire in you, similar to the one I saw when you first enrolled. I hope it’s doing the trick.”

I press my lips together. “How?”

She squints. “Elaborate.”

“How does anyone have a fire under them when our lives are at risk? I don’t even understand how or why the play is still happening.”

Students have been leaving the campus, but many remain in the play. To my great disappointment, Charlotte is still here as well.