Shadow Phantoms - H.P. Mallory Page 0,43

around to see the missing students still hadn’t found us. I thought I could see a few of them in the distance, though.

Then I realized who I was talking to and craned my neck to the side, checking for his angry other half.

“Where’s Ellenora?” I asked.

It was no secret that Ellenora didn’t like other girls talking to her boyfriend. I’d learned the hard way when Clark and I had been paired up in a potions lab. Clark was a nice guy and everything, but I wasn’t about to walk headlong into their situationship before nine o’clock in the morning.

“Feeling under the weather this morning,” Clark answered. He pumped his large dark eyebrows and rolled his eyes as if to say I know a fake excuse when I hear one.

“Don’t worry,” I said, giving him a supportive clap on the arm. “I’m sure her immune system will kick into high gear once the mall closes.”

“Touché.” He smiled and shoved his hands into his pockets. Clark wore jeans every day of the week. We were meant to be in uniform during school hours—non-negotiable. If it was in the Elmington handbook, then—by the faculty standards—it was to be observed and practiced like scripture. But no one seemed to have a problem with Clark rocking his Elmington sweater vest over a pair of Levi’s. Guess he just had a knack for getting his way. Or maybe it was the fact that he was the star of the men’s football team? Nah, that couldn’t have anything to do with it…

I nodded to Stone. “Has he said anything important yet?”

“No, he’s waiting for stragglers.” Clark pointed through the mist at a cluster of students in the distance. They darted around a row of graves, on their way to class. One tripped over a lifted root and face planted into a fresh grave plot.

Clark and I tried not to laugh, but his deep chuckle broke through the silence. I laughed too; we smiled, stifling giggles, and turned our attention resolutely back to Stone. Er, to Professor Draper.

Dammit.

“As long as we’ve got some time to kill…” Stone glanced sidelong at the sprinting straggler. “I’m supposed to remind you all about an upcoming dance…”

“The Spring Formal!” Kassandra Johnson piped up.

“Yes, that,” Stone said, his eyebrows lifted. “Consider yourselves sufficiently reminded. Does everyone have a date to the dance?” He scanned the student body. His eyes paused on me.

You probably imagined it, I thought, just as he switched his gaze to Clark.

“Well, if you don’t have a date, after today, you should be able to summon one,” Stone said with a laugh.

I laughed along with the class. The stragglers burst into the dome a second later. Stone smiled, clearly amused by their entrance.

“Now that everyone’s here, though some of you are tardy,” Stone began, “I’d like to introduce you all to a friend of mine.”

He stood, took the bell from the tomb and stepped into the middle of the pentagram.

“Blood of my blood, spirits of love, come from below, and from above. Entities loving, who wish me well, make yourselves known, when I sound the bell.”

Billowing black smoke plumed from the grave. Glowing red eyes appeared. I watched with wide eyes as the demon slowly took form, congealing into the shape of a snowy white horse.

Stone approached the horse and stroked its mane.

“This is Merlin,” he said. “He and I met when I was around your age.”

“When was that? Like, yesterday?” Trixie giggled to Allegra.

“Seriously, professor,” Allegra added, still twirling her hair and laughing like a pixie sprite. “How old are you?”

“Can’t be older than twenty-four,” Trixie said, smiling flirtatiously at him.

“I’m old enough to know that a familiar is one of the greatest assets to a practicing witch in the known universe,” Stone answered, steering the class right back on track. “But for those of you keeping score, this mortal coil’s twenty-five.” He gestured to himself.

“Good guess, Trixie!” Allegra beamed. The girls tittered about the new development as Stone approached the horse.

“Merlin is my familiar,” Stone went on. “And today, you will all be meeting yours.”

A few of us laughed excitedly. About half the students stared at Stone with confused apprehension on their faces.

“A familiar is a witch’s or a warlock’s companion,” he explained with a quick shrug. “When you summon a familiar, you enter into a sacred partnership with that creature. By reciting this spell, you pledge yourself to the demon, just as they pledge themselves to you. It’s a tie that depends on mutual respect. Its strength