Haunted Rayne

26 | The Sun's Requiem (part 2)

Dorian Matthews sat behind his desk in the dimly lit detention room, the usual discipline of the setting feeling almost surreal given all of the recent upheavals of the campus. With Doctor MacGowan missing and Doctor Shaw dead, there was no other trained mental health professional to manage the students, and the atmosphere was a mix of subdued chatter and uneasy silence. Dorian found himself even more lenient than usual lately. The weight of recent events—the death, the destruction, the looming threat of a demon—had left him with little energy or conscience for enforcement.

The students, sensing the extra leniency, were chatting in low voices, trying to find some semblance of normalcy. There were only six of them in total tonight. Glancing over the room, Dorian noticed that Lucas was conspicuously absent. Rayne, who had been unusually quiet, was now visibly tense. Her gaze darted toward the door frequently, fingers drumming anxiously over the desk.

Dorian's concern grew as he noticed her increasing distress. He, too, glanced toward the door, the awareness of Leviathan making the student's absence even more troubling. With a sigh, he decided it was best to cut detention short. "Alright, everyone. It's been a rough week," he said somberly, rising from his seat. "I'm going to release you early. I trust you'll use this time wisely and stay out of trouble."

A murmur of relief and gratitude swept the room as the students gathered their things. Dorian's eyes, however, remained fixed on Rayne. She fumbled with her belongings, her unease growing by the second. When the classroom had cleared, Dorian approached her, his footsteps light on the polished floor; his heart was anything but.

"Miss Foster," he said quietly, taking a seat next to her at the back of the room. "Can we talk for a moment?"

Rayne's eyes flicked up, only to slide away again. "I need to find Lucas."

"He doesn't know detention has been dismissed. Why don't we give him a few more minutes to show up?"

She exhaled sharply through her nose. "Fine."

Dorian exhaled too. Relief. The tension between them had been palpable ever since Rayne found out he'd been meeting with Emma Scott. She hadn't said anything directly, but the cold distance in her eyes every time they crossed paths spoke volumes. And the fact that this revelation had come on the same night as Hillary's death—on Homecoming, no less—had likely turned her mind into a storm of fear and anger. He couldn't blame her for doubting his intentions with the policewoman. Though, it also didn't seem relevant. He couldn't protect her if she kept locking him out. He cleared his throat and offered, "May I wait with you?"

"Can you wait in silence?" she shot back. Her voice was sharp, like the edge of a blade, ready to cut him down if he got too close.

Dorian nodded, a small smile tugging his lips. "I can do silence."

It was quiet for a moment, but it was the kind of quiet that buzzed with unsaid words. Rayne looked out the window, almost like she was searching for answers only the sky could give. Her fingers traced the edge of the desk, restless. Finally, she said, "Did you enjoy your date with Officer Traitor?"

The question hit him harder than it should have. He let out a slow breath, feeling the tightness in his chest grow. "Ah, yes, I love the sound of silence."

"Did. You. Enjoy. Your—?"

"It wasn't a date," he interrupted, his eyes sliding to meet hers in his periphery.

"Why is she here, then? She should be in Michigan. With her husband."

Dorian swallowed the guilt that rose in his throat, though he had no reason to feel it. He looked down, pinched the bridge of his nose, faced forward, and realized, even now, he looked guilty. He hadn't done anything wrong, but he had this gnawing feeling that Rayne's judgment was already final. No matter what he said, he would never change her mind.