if he harnesses his full powers, neither Dominion nor Confederacy would stop him.
Not if. When.
He's a loose cannon. The world had better hope they manage to keep Dorian in that prison.
So, yeah. I'm glad I missed out on his friendly face.
Once, at the secret, hedonistic parties we hold once a month, a drunk witch told me Dorian didn't go alone. Three other powerful residents disappeared around the same time: Zeke Grenfell, Ethan MacCowan and Eloise Thornbrook. I've heard the Thornbrook family name and they're Dominion too. Were they all? I guess the outcome for the four wasn't pretty.
I spin the plastic cup around on the tray, beside my half-empty plate, as the cafeteria empties around me. The modern mixes with the ancient in this weird building. The walls outside the classrooms and cafeteria are raw stone, the hallways cracked tiles. Once over, the place must've been impressive, judging by the massive chandeliers and the now cracked stained-glass windows, but now everything is as derelict as the residents. I bet the place once filled with expensive furniture; I sit on a grey plastic bench clamped to the floor, in front of the bolted-down wipe-clean table of the same colour.
Occasionally I sit with other students, but mostly I arrive later and use the time for peace away from the violence and politics that surround us all.
Sipping the dishwater coffee, I pull a face and stack the plastic cup and plate onto the tray. Amelia promised to link with me tonight; I hope she does. She's been distracted the last few weeks, leaving me sick to the stomach that she might move on. What if she already has? Amelia's cute and fun to be with—I'm fooling myself if I think nobody else would make a play for Amelia.
“Matteo.”
I'm pulled from my depressing thoughts by Luca, standing with a blonde guy. I know the tall, dark-haired vampire, younger looking than most of the staff here and who always dresses impeccably. Is he worried someone will mistake him for a student if he doesn't? Luca isn't a professor and has an 'admin role'; he processed me when I arrived, but I've no idea what he does with his days. Ravenhold has room for more lucky teens, but we don't have daily arrivals.
“Luca?” I reply.
“This is Ryker. Your new roommate. Show him the ropes.”
Fuck. I've spent my time here alone in my room, but always knew someone would occupy the bed several feet away one day. I size up the guy. Witch. Taller than me but not as stocky, short brown hair. Nondescript, including his faded T-shirt with band logo and jeans. He doesn't have a cocky air, but he isn't as nervous as most new students I've met. I bloody hope he isn't in here for murder, because in my experience, those who look like him are the most violent.
“Hey,” says Ryker with a nod.
I reply with a sigh and stand to pick up my tray. “Hey, man.”
“Show him the room first,” says Luca, “then introduce him to a few people.”
I nod. Good plan. Palm him off to those who're sociable, and then I can spend some time with Amelia.
They wait for me as I return my tray to the haphazard stack close to the serving hatch. Luca leaves us and the unfortunate new kid trails behind me as we walk through the long hallways towards the witches' wing. Voices echo from all directions as I scuff my feet on the floor.
Ryker twists his head to watch as a couple of witches pass by, two guys dressed in seen-better-days jeans and shirts. “No uniform?” he asks.
“Did you expect orange jumpsuits?” I say with a laugh. “No uniform, but the place is bloody cold so most witches wear jeans and sweater. The shifters and vamps don't care so much. Don't feel the cold like we do.”
“Yeah. I bet.” We turn a corner towards the longer hallway lined by student rooms. “Do the races mix here?”
“Some do, like at the Nightworld academies. Which one are you from? I don't recognise you from mine.”
“Home-schooled.” He rolls his eyes. “My parents kept me away because the academies are being taken over by Dominion.”
I snort. “Not mine. I'd like to see someone mess with Theodora.”
“You were at the one in Northern England?”
“Yeah.” We reach the scratched oak door to my—our—room and I shove the key into the lock. I'm not elaborating anymore. I asked people personal questions when I arrived, but not within minutes. “I'm not sure what you're used