Lessons in Sin - Pam Godwin Page 0,8
voice.
His heartless, unyielding command.
“Come with me.”
CHAPTER 4
MAGNUS
I strode into the hall without waiting for the girl. Her footsteps didn’t follow, but they would. They all fell in line, eventually.
Predictable, uninspiring, entitled children. They were always difficult on the first day, thrashing against their new boundaries and resentful about leaving their friends and mansions.
And I had the impossible job of molding them into something better.
The top strata of society lived in a world of mirrored surfaces and disingenuous relationships where a person’s value correlated to how much they could take, control, and hold over others.
Making spoiled rich kids smarter and stronger wasn’t the best thing for society as a whole. What these students needed were lessons in kindness from a positive role model.
But I wasn’t that guy. So I stuck with what I was good at.
Discipline.
Halfway down the corridor, I sensed her slipping out of the classroom behind me.
“Where’s my mother?” She tried to sound confident, but her voice wobbled at the edges, confessing her distress.
Who would’ve thought the pampered Constantine princess had the capacity to care about something other than herself? Her reaction to the bat was a disarming presentation of her character. But she canceled it out with her snarky comebacks and passive-aggressive attempts to belittle me.
No student had ever been so bold.
As she trailed behind, waiting for my answer, her animosity clotted the air. A glance over my shoulder confirmed it.
An inferno consumed her huge expressive eyes, and her lips curled back, baring sharp kitten teeth. Pale blonde hair hung in tangles around her stiff arms, her tiny hands balled into white-knuckled fists at her sides.
Her furious stare didn’t lower, never weakening, completely dialed in on the source of her outrage.
She despised me.
That was atypical, too.
All my students felt some form of trepidation in my presence. But none hated me. Quite the opposite. Too often, I found myself reprimanding unwanted flirtation or, worse, infatuation.
I suspected that wouldn’t be a problem with Tinsley Constantine. But despite all that, she was the same as every other spoon-fed brat with a trust fund, personal driver, and closet full of designer shoes and emotional baggage.
I should tell her the truth about her mother, that the woman intended to leave without saying goodbye. But the words didn’t come. Instead, I stopped at my classroom and gestured inside. “She’s waiting.”
Waiting, because I’d given her that order when I stepped out to grab her daughter. I needed to make something very clear to both of them before they parted ways.
As Tinsley approached, I didn’t step back, forcing her to squeeze past me.
“Murderer,” she spat under her breath and slipped into the room.
In the interest of moving this along, I let it slide. There would be plenty of time in the coming months to punish her mouth.
I followed her in and closed the door.
“What took so long?” Caroline strode toward me, purse in hand, looking all bent out of shape and long past ready to leave.
“Take a seat.” I flicked a finger at the first row of desks. “Both of you.”
“I’m surprised you’re still here.” Tinsley dropped onto a chair and crossed her arms. “Figured you would’ve sneaked away when you had the chance.”
“I don’t sneak—”
“Mrs. Constantine.” I nodded at the seat behind her. “Sit.”
She sucked in an indignant breath, and the dainty cords in her neck strained against her skin. Flawless skin. Slender bones. She would bruise so beautifully in the wrong hands.
In another life, older women were my weakness. But not this one. Not this life and not this woman.
Caroline was, by definition, glamorous. Regal cheekbones. A ripe mouth slashed with scarlet. A body that boasted regular visits to the gym. And not a shimmering blonde hair out of place.
I found her deeply unappealing. She was arrogant and power-hungry with a code of ethics befitting Lucifer himself. From what I knew through my own investigation, the cold queen had no redeeming qualities.
She held my gaze in a silent standoff, one that lasted another second before she lowered onto the seat behind her. She was a smart woman. Smart enough to know I wasn’t a man who backed down.
As for the daughter…
Tinsley slouched deeper in the chair, belligerently directing her gaze anywhere but in my direction.
“Miss Constantine.” I stepped before her, steeling my voice. “Sit up straight.”
Her eyes lifted. Heart-stopping eyes that expressed emotion with visceral clarity. They burned straight through me as she said, “Two words. One finger.”
Caroline gasped.
I kicked the toe of Tinsley’s shoe with enough force to send her shooting up in