The Pomegranate Society

Eighteen: Professor Aleksander Morozova

Eighteen:

Professor Aleksander Morozova

There was nothing to do but wait. Alina knew. She'd gone to the hospital and seen the boy. He was in critical condition, and he would be out of a job after he'd been honorably discharged. The Prince might provide security for her future, but the future for Malyen Oretsev was uncertain. He barely knew the girl, but he suspected Alina was, at her core, a soft soul. She would do anything for someone she cared about if they were in trouble. Malyen was in trouble, and he was her family. Her home.

She had missed class. It was fine. He could lecture her about it later. The perfect excuse to see her if she didn't show up to see her again.

He sat in his office, having finished his classes for the day, grading papers. Every so often, he would glance at the large, wooden clock he kept on his desk. It had been a gift from his father ages ago when he'd gotten a job at the University. He wasn't supposed to know that, but the Ravkaan crest on it gave everything away. His mother had tried telling him she'd gotten it at an antique shop but Aleksander hadn't believed it for one, single minute.

The clock ticked, and he waited.

He imagined her arriving, her face flushed from running to his office. It was fall now, and she'd take off her coat, her scarf and gloves. She'd rattle off everything that had happened with the hospital. The boy, his discharge, the expenses he would have even with his military benefits....

What can I do, Professor? How can I help him?

She'd give him that pleading look, he would slide over the Persephone necklace, and Alina would agree to become part of The Society. He would write up a contract for her and he would fuck her there, on his office table-----

There was a knocking on his door then, and Aleksander jumped up. He opened it, and Alina stood there, her cheeks flushed just as he imagined it. He smiled at her. "Miss Starkov, what a surprise," he said, "you were missed in class today. Has something happened?"

She burst in, and slammed the door shut behind her. "You had something to do with this."

He smirked at her. "With what, Miss Starkov? You, missing class? I'm afraid I don't have that superpower."

"Malyen Oretsev. You couldn't get me to join your stupid, little society so you found a way to---"

"What?" he said. "I don't even know who this person is, Miss Starkov. I am not a Strombolli. I cannot control strings."

"The boy I grew up with in the orphanage....he's....he's a soldier, and there was a roadside bomb that hit his unit the other day. He's in the hospital. They say....."

"What is it?"

"They don't know if he's going to wake up again," she said, "and he's been honorably discharged and his benefits will only last so long..."

He smirked. "Well, I don't know why you would think that I have something to do with this. I'm a University Professor. I have no military connections. I never even served." He leaned back in his chair, his hands folded behind his head, smirking at her with one leg crossed over his.

Alina raised an eyebrow. "How did you possibly make that happen? I thought all young men had to serve, unless they went to college. The only exceptions are if you've got royal blood."

He only smirked wider. "You are a smart girl, Alina. But you must know I had nothing to do with your young friend getting injured, or his circumstances. However, if you are worried about him...I do know of a way to help you make some money, as it were. To change those circumstances. Some extra credit, as it were."

She sat down in the chair across from his desk. "This has to do with that society invitation that I got, doesn't it? With the necklace and the initiate letter from someone calling himself 'Hades'?"

He had kept her necklace in the top drawer of his desk, still in the box. He took it out and placed it on the table. "It's a very elite organization, Miss Starkov. One that could help you go far. Farther even than that Prince of yours has planned for you."

She clenched her jaw. "You claim to study myths and legends. But I suspect those are your weekday activities. What about your nighttime ones?"

"Oh, you know. Magic, Madness, Heaven, Sin. All things are fathomable if only you join us and name your price."

"My price?"

"Yes," he said, "for four years of your company in any manner that I choose it. With a contract that can't be broken unless the money is paid back in full."

"Of course," she muttered.

He took out a contract from his desk drawer. He'd had that drawn up this morning. "Four million kruge," he said, "a million for each year spent with me."

She took a deep breath, her eyes narrowed. She was practically seething with venom. He could taste her hate, and Saints, he wanted to fuck it out of her there in his office on his old, mahogany desk.

"The money can't be rescinded?"

"Only if your patron breaks your contract. If that is the case, you get paid in full, and you never have to see me again," he said, "and let me tell you if you sign this, Alina, I have no intention of breaking it."

He took out his pen from his tweed suit pocket.

She stared at it like she was staring down the devil. Maybe she was. Maybe it was him. "For Mal," she whispered under her breath, and then she took the pen, and signed.