Of Life and Death: [A Dark Academia Paranormal Romance]

Chapter 14

Irritation lodges into the back of my throat. "So when is this going to end?" I ask.

Sniggers follow me as I walk through the common room. Someone silently convulses, reenacting my unceremonious electrocution yesterday.

"Just give it a few weeks, or months," Soph says breezily.

When she continues out the door, I pause. "Aren't we supposed to eat here?"

"No. We have breakfast in the dinning hall in mornings and evenings. Afternoons we eat at the canteen."

"Okay."

We make it out the huge double doors. I tense on instinct when gazes slide towards us and stay as we walk by the halls. It doesn't help that in the sea of uniform grey and white, I stand out like a sore thumb in my yellow button-down and jeans. It's the most modest I've ever looked.

"Why the hell do they stare so much?" I ask.

Soph chuckles. "You're a walking question mark. No one knows who or what you are. And no one knows why you're here."

"What I am?" A scoff. "I'm a girl, is what I am."

An almost somber expression falls on her face. "Here, power is your identity. How much and how little of it you have is who you are. It drives them crazy to not know how much you have."

Ridiculous! "They don't have anything to worry about on that score. They can keep their precious power, shove it up their asses."

The dinning hall is teeming with students. Some talk over the long, rectangular tables and a few thumb through their phones, bopping their heads to whatever's coming out of their headphones. Probably their morning brainwashing segment on power and how to rule the world.

I notice one thing, though. They're all in clusters.

A raucous group stay near the fireplace, throwing play punches and beating themselves up in a way that's eye-roll-worthily male. Their laughter ring out, eliciting an eye roll from the girls a table away. This group has their hair done in luscious waves, their skin radiating an otherworldly glow. I squint, stunned to realize it's translucent. I could almost see the stream of water sloshing beneath their skin.

Soph snorts. "Werewolves and water nymphs. A match made in hell."

"Water nymphs," I echo.

"Yes. Belonging to the family of sea shifters. They're right up there with sirens, mermans, kelpies and the rest. Nasty creatures, if you ask me."

I sit, settling into the high-backed chair with the intention of observing other groups scattered around, but a ping sounds--and it's like a shock wave, soon countless ping notifications go off.

The hall quiets.

Sophie gets a ping and I look at her questioningly.

Her fingers fly over the screen of her phone and then she stills, hand going up to cover her mouth. "Knew it..."

Snickers start to roll through the hall.

"Let me see," I tell her, curious despite myself.

She hands me her phone. What I see there has my eyes widening.

The headline reads: It's how Danielle Caradesa never gets an F. By F'ing the maths teacher.

The picture is a blurred image of two people going at it in what looks like an office. Their faces are unmistakable.