Awakened (Unbound, Book 3)

Chapter Four

The next morning, I woke early again and rushed to get ready. I dressed for comfort and threw my tangled dark layers of wet hair into an elastic band on the top of my head. I didn't even bother with contacts. Mirrors were my enemy since regaining my memory. The sight of my green and blue eyes circled by purple was a reminder of dreams of waves—green, blue, and purple—suffocating me as I was held prisoner under the water's surface.

It was all wrong. Terrifying... yet as familiar as the accident I knew happened but couldn't remember.

The accident was the only thing that still eluded me, and I was happy to avoid it. What might be attempted murder instead of an accident was nothing compared to my other problems. Dwelling on what I didn't know would turn me into a basket case who jumped at every corner expecting to find danger. So, I forced myself to keep looking away, as unhealthy as that may be.

At quarter after seven, I left my rooms and headed down the stairs to the main door. Onyx remained in my room, shedding white fur all over my black comforter as she rolled with dreams. Wanting Miss Rose, the so-called 'House Manager', to wash it, I left the door open and removed the barrier used to deflect guests in my absence. She couldn't help but snoop—or open her mouth in situations that didn't concern her—but for once, I could use it to my advantage.

"Nora."

I stopped with my hand on the doorknob and sighed. Then I pasted a smile onto my face and turned to Mrs. Renaldi, the cook and only one at Dwyer Manor that I enjoyed spending time with. Of course, dressed in her usual jeans and t-shirt, ignoring the traditional uniform but deserving the title, she was a happy chef. Except, apparently, for today.

"Good morning!"

Mrs. Renaldi rested her hands on her hips and scowled, her single red braid hanging over her left shoulder. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Uh, school?"

"Not without breakfast."

"Actually," I said, and lifted my bag higher on my shoulder, darting my eyes to the door. "I was going to stop at Celestial Java."

Mrs. Renaldi shook her head. "Not without breakfast."

"But—"

"What's going on?" Devland asked, coming out of his office from down the hall to my right. He looked at his watch and back to me. "You're not going to school this early, are you?"

"Teachers don't play favorites because I came down with amnesia, you know. Or because I'm your daughter." At least biologically.

"You need to eat first," he said, and pointed to the doorway of the dining room where Mrs. Renaldi still stood. "It's a long day when you're hungry."

I narrowed my eyes, but as usual, he gave away no hints to his emotions when he spoke. It was like he was two different people, neither of which he would allow me to know. First, there was the lawyer who showed glimpses of being a father, though that was rare. Then there was the leader of the High Council, which was the governing body who kept order within the magical community. It was the so-called governing body that created upheld the laws we lived by. The Council, with my father at the lead, prosecuted anyone who broke those laws.

Zachariah had said it was corrupted.

I was supposed to correct that, but I wasn't naïve. Devland was too strong to take on using the Craft until I learnt more, and I couldn't chance him placing more charms on me to forget—or worse.

Still, Devland hid it well. In another tailor-made suite and rigid posture, he looked... like a lawyer. But all that hid the corruption that Zachariah told me existed, which I had no grounds to deny. I mean, what kind of father blackmailed their daughter into moving two days after her mother died when they hadn't even met? Not once did he make an appearance while I was growing up, and ever since I arrived, I hadn't been able to so much as contact any of my surrogate family he forced me to leave behind. NO phone call, no email, not even a letter.