Crescent Wolves - G. Bailey Page 0,52

had with Ms. Ash.”

Damn. Busted. Shifting a little in my seat, I reply, “I, ah… I’m really sorry about that, President Hawthorne. I hadn’t figured out how to control my powers yet. I still don’t--not really. I didn’t want to hurt her, I just… I panicked, and…” I’m babbling, feeling more on edge by the second in spite of Hawthorne’s reassurances. “I’m sorry,” I say again.

“It’s all right, Millie,” Hawthorne says gently. “You’re not the first shifter who’s lost control of their powers. That’s why this school exists, isn’t it?”

Is it? “I guess so.”

“So how are you doing, really?” he asks, leaning forward and giving me a scrutinizing stare. I feel like his eyes are going to bore a hole in my head. “I mean truly--how are you liking it here? Do your classes feel like they’re going well? Has the transition become easier?”

“Yes,” I reply. “I mean, I still wouldn’t say it’s easy, but… I do feel comfortable here. More comfortable than I’ve felt at other schools, actually.”

Hawthorne nods approvingly. “Glad to hear it.” He leans back and crosses his arms. “And you’re making friends?”

I nod. “A few, actually. They’ve… they’ve made it easier. I mean, they’ve helped me learn to transform, they’ve stood up for me…” They make me feel less alone, I want to say, but I don’t think Hawthorne would understand. “They’re a good group,” I finish instead.

“And Mr. Aconite?” Hawthorne asks, his eyes narrowing slightly, almost imperceptibly. “He seems to have taken quite a liking to you.”

My eyes widen, and I feel a blush creeping into my cheeks. “Really?”

Hawthorne chuckles. “Come on, Millie. I was your age once, too. A long time ago. I’ve spent enough time around boys to know how they think. I actually wanted to talk to you about that,” he adds, his expression going stony again.

“What do you mean?”

“Mr. Aconite is…” He steeples his fingers, pursing his lips. “You could say that Mr. Aconite is… troubled. I’m not sure how much he told you about his childhood, but--”

“A bit,” I reply. “He said his parents were paranoid. About humans, I mean.”

“Paranoid is putting it lightly,” Hawthorne replies. “They were conspiracy theorists who thought humans were out to… I don’t know, enslave shifters, or something. Hogwash, obviously.” He gestures around the room, grinning. “I mean, does this look like enslavement to you?”

I give an uneasy laugh. “No, I guess not.” For the first time in a while, I’m reminded of the fact that President Hawthorne is, in fact, human.

“Shifters and the humans who know about their existence have cooperated for hundreds of years,” Hawthorne continues. “We support each other, coexisting as we help strengthen each other. Learn from each other. Is that enslavement?” He shakes his head, looking thoughtful. “Shifters are more powerful than humans can ever hope to be,” he muses. “It’s an honor to be able to help your kind assimilate, to study your abilities in a mutually beneficial relationship. Don’t you agree?”

“Yeah, sure,” I reply.

“It’s views like the ones Mr. Aconite’s parents held that jeopardize the relationship humans and shifters have cultivated for so long,” says President Hawthorne. “Paranoia breeds irrationality, which breeds violence. Mr. Aconite’s parents were violent.”

My eyes widen. “Really? He didn’t mention…”

“No, I doubt he did,” says Hawthorne. “He probably isn’t even aware. His parents were revolutionaries, radicals who wanted to overturn the system, at the expense of both humans and shifters. They and their co-conspirators were in the midst of planning an attack when we managed to intercept them.”

I swallow, unable to respond.

“You see why that kind of ideology is dangerous,” Hawthorne continues. “And I fear that…” His eyes flicker away from me.

“What is it?” I ask, leaning forward.

“I fear that Mr. Aconite’s parents may have poisoned him with their beliefs,” Hawthorne says, sounding almost reluctant to tell me, like it pains him to deliver the message. “He was, thankfully, taken out of that situation as a child, but he spent a great deal of his life learning to be suspicious of humans and our motives.”

“Are you saying Silas is going to turn out like his parents?”

Hawthorne shrugs. “It’s impossible to predict what will happen to the boy. But I want to warn you now, Millie: spending time with shifters like him is a dangerous game. He could be indoctrinating you, and you wouldn’t even know it. I want you to be careful.”

I take a breath to steady myself. “Is that why you called me in here?” I asked quietly. “To warn me about Silas?”

Slowly,