open the heavy wooden door. He does it slowly, deliberately, to avoid squeaking, and I hardly dare to breathe as I creep through, the others following behind me.
As soon as the door shuts behind us, we’re in complete darkness. “Does anyone have a--” I begin, but Shade beats me to it, turning on his phone and using the light to illuminate the hallway. It’s strange seeing this place in the dark; it feels eerie somehow, not homey the way it did when I first arrived at the school. Things were simpler then, I realize: no conspiracies, no vanishings, no worrying myself sick over the fate of someone I cared about…
But, I realize as I glance behind me at the others, that was because back then, I didn’t have anyone I cared about. I had never been this close to anyone before, and I never in a million years would have expected to bond this profoundly, this naturally, with a group of people the way I have with my friends at the Academy. Maybe it really is predestination or something. Could we have always been meant to cross paths again?
We follow the hallway to the registrar’s office, which is locked up tight. Hunter pulls out another key and lets us in, looking nearly crippled with fear. I can’t blame him.
“So what are we looking for?” Shade asks, pushing the door closed behind us.
“My file,” I reply. “Yours, too. All of ours. Is it alphabetized?”
“Looks like it,” Landon says, squinting at the filing cabinets in the darkness.
Shade seems to be having no trouble reading the labels. “Do you have super vision or something?” I ask incredulously.
“No,” he says, turning to me, and I start when I see that his eyes have gone a bright amber color. “Wolf vision.”
“Lucky,” mutters Landon, craning his neck as he continues to search.
“You should give it a try, Millie,” Shade says. “Maybe you could--”
But at that moment the light comes on in the room, nearly blinding me for a second. “What on earth are you kids doing in here?” asks Mrs. Fairbanks, who is standing in the doorway in a nightshirt.
“Fuck,” moans Hunter, putting his head in his hand.
“I-” I begin.
“Are you looking through the student files?” Mrs. Fairbanks takes a few steps closer to us, and I notice that her eyes have gone the telltale black of a witch. While once that was comforting, however, now it’s terrifying. “What are you doing outside at this hour? Breaking into the registrar’s office, and… Hunter Ash, is that you?” She rounds on Hunter, who is shrinking in the corner of the room.
“Mrs. Fairbanks, please--” begins Hunter.
“Break in!” she yells, at a surprisingly high volume considering her diminutive size. “Break in in the registrar’s office! I need security, now-”
But before I can react, I see a flash of sea green out of the corner of my eye. Landon has transformed into a Siren, his lean muscles on full display as he shimmers with iridescent scales. He opens his mouth, but instead of a reply, what comes out is a shrill, high-pitched tone that’s enough to make me clap my hands over my ears.
“Landon, what the hell--” I begin, but then my eyes go wide as I see that Mrs. Fairbanks’ posture has changed. Her shoulders slump, her eyes return to their normal color, and the twisted expression of upset confusion on her face smooths out. Within seconds, she’s quieted, and she stares at Landon with a docile look as the frequency dies down to a low thrum. “Leave,” Landon tells her, his voice like silk in his siren form. “Go back to bed.”
Mrs. Fairbanks blinks. It looks like part of her is trying to fight it, but back in human form, there’s nothing she can do. “I… yes,” she says quietly. “Yes, bed would be a good idea. Excuse me.” And with that, she turns around and waddles out of the registrar’s office, switching the light off as she goes.
Landon is already shifting back by the time I turn around. The others are staring at him, stunned.
“What was that?” I ask, eyes wide.
“Siren song,” Landon replies. “She’s female, and she wasn’t prepared, but that’s the only reason it worked. I’m not powerful enough to make it last, either. Between that and her yelling, I don’t think we’ll have long here, guys.”
“Then we’d better hurry,” says Shade, turning back to the filing cabinets. The rest of us don’t need telling twice, and I hurry to resume my search, still reeling