Bloodbound Nocturne (The Sophia Kelly Chronicles Book 1) Page 7

  A huge sigh whooshes from my lungs once I reach the end. The last notes of music fade off into the nooks and crannies of the recital hall as I take another cleansing breath of air. I want to jump for joy right there on the stage. Instead, I smirk at the man who I know doubted me from the start of the audition, but he doesn't notice. He's scribbling something in his notepad in loud, scratchy handwriting, and he's blatantly ignoring the triumphant grin that stretches across my face. I couldn't have asked for a better performance. The rest of the committee nods with approval as they, too, make notes on pads of paper.

  What? You're not going to look at me now, professor? I nailed it, and you know it.

  As if in response to my thoughts, Christoph's head jerks up, and he glares at me through narrowed eyes. Startled, I take a step backward. His eyes look unusually icy today. That girl was right.

  "Thank you, Miss Kelly," Christoph says through clenched teeth, as his gaze lowers back down to the pad of paper.

  I bow slightly before quickly exiting the stage, cursing myself afterward. Who bows after an audition? I breathe yet another sigh of relief as I make my way back through the student lounge. I did well. I did better than well. And now I'm just glad it's over.

  Students are gathered in tight circles, clutching their instruments and talking in hushed whispers in the waiting area outside the recital hall. They look up at me, their eyes wide as I approach, and I push quietly past them, feeling as if a tremendous weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Colin is waiting for me on the old green couches in the lounge area.

  "Colin," I call, waving to him.

  "Well? How did it go?" He stands to greet me.

  "I couldn't have asked for a better audition. I think I did really well."

  "As I knew you would. You've got a ridiculous amount of talent." He punches me playfully on the arm as three other violinists pass, eyes glued to me. "Those three there?" Colin motions after them once they pass. "They stood, ears to the door, listening to your audition. After a while, they just started to look defeated. You must've killed it in there."

  Colin knew how important this was to me. Not only for my college career, but also as a way to stick it to the new musical director, who I know was expecting me to completely fall apart.

  "Really?" My eyes widen in astonishment. "I mean, yeah. I had a great audition, but I didn't think anyone was listening."

  "Did Dr. D give you the stare-down he's been giving everyone else? Lots of people have been talking about that."

  "Dr. D?" I frown before quickly realizing he's referring to Christoph. "Oh, yeah. Dr. D. Clever. And yes. Total stare-down. But is that all they're talking about?"

  "I think so. Why? Is there something else?"

  "I'm not sure." I chew my lower lip. "There was something in there. I swear, Colin. Something in there was messing with me while I played."

  "Messing with you? Like a fly or a bug or something? God, I hate that. I swear, every time I play, I—"

  "No…" A chill peeps along my spine as I hear the words tumble from my mouth. "More like a ghost."

  Colin frowns, his brows drawing together with concern. "A ghost was messing with you? How do you mean?"

  "Pulling my hair, playing with my clothes. Ghostly stuff, you know? Stuff I would definitely do if I was a ghost." I smile thoughtfully as I imagine myself tormenting people with my own brand of ghostly mischief.

  Colin seems to ponder this for a moment. "Very odd, indeed," he says quietly, before nodding in the direction of the music office. "I've got to get back in there. Are you headed home?"

  There's something Colin isn't telling me. I can feel it.

  "I think so. I've got to get the rest of my books later, but aside from that I'm done for the day. I think this is the first time in my life where I can actually just sit and relax."

  "And the tea? Still enjoying it?"

  "I am. I've been meaning to tell you. It's amazing, but I'm afraid the legendary dream-enhancing capabilities are a bust." I smack his arm, struck with a sudden thought. "Unless the tea has the power to summon spirits. Does it?"

  His face falls. "No," he says with a sigh. "I have no spirit-summoning tea. I was hoping I'd get some good stuff out of you. A vision or an awakening or something. Ghosts are something else entirely."

  An awakening?

  He really does look disappointed, and for a second I consider making something up just to make him feel better.

  "Nope. Nothing," I say. "The only thing I can remember dreaming about lately is an old house with a secret corridor beneath it. I've had some pretty vivid dreams before. Picturesque landscapes. Strange, otherworldly people. But now, all I've got is an old house. Lame."

  "Yeah," Colin says.

  "Don't look so disappointed. It's only been a few days. I'll work on filling my head with as much supernatural insanity as I can handle before I go to bed. Oooh, I'll watch that TV station that plays all those teenage supernatural soap operas. You know, the ones with vampires and that one team of ghost hunters that never actually finds any ghosts but has a hell of a frat-boy good time doing it?"

  "Yes, I am familiar," Colin says, rolling his eyes. "Though I suspect you'd be watching those shows anyway. I'll see you later. Come by the tea shop later if you're bored. I'm trying out this new thing with milk."

  "Milk! How exciting! I may take you up on that. Be sure and tell Dr. D I said hello," I say with a sweet smile as I move breezily through the door, feeling like I haven't got a care in the world. And being that it’s two days before classes start, I haven't got a care in the world. My time is actually mine for once, and I mean to enjoy it.

  CHAPTER SIX

  "Sophe." A heavy hand shakes me awake. "Sophia, get up. Jesus Christ, your alarm has been going off for the past ten minutes."

  I bolt upright, feeling frazzled and slightly disoriented, and reach blindly for my phone, tapping the snooze button repeatedly until the bouncy pop music stops. Greg stands beside my bed, half dressed and mussed from sleep. He rubs his eyes.

  "Don't you have an early class this morning?" he mumbles as he turns and staggers back in the direction of his bedroom. "I could've sworn—"

  "Damn!" I exclaim. I am wide awake when I look down at my phone. "It's 7:50, G. I have class in ten minutes."

  "You never run late. What is going on with you?"

  "I don't know. I have ten minutes, G. Ten.”

  I fly out of bed and into the bathroom, where I angrily snarl a hairbrush through my tangled hair before whipping it back into a ponytail. I'm relatively sure that Christoph… or Dr. von Drauchenberg, as he should be known, has a sick sense of humor, scheduling his musicianship class at 8 a.m. It's a required class for freshmen, and probably also a test to see how well we can manage our time. It's a test I'm failing miserably right now. I quickly dress, deciding that he's scheduled class just to piss me off.

  I can hear Greg snoring in his room when I dart down the hall a few minutes later, and I'm glad at least one of us gets to go back to sleep. Greg isn't stupid enough to be taking an 8 a.m. class, despite his early-bird tendencies. I grab a granola bar from the pantry and rush out the door to the car, which I'm taking today whether Greg likes it or not.

  The halls are surprisingly empty at the Butler School, despite it being the first day of class. Because it's 8:05 and I am five minutes late to class. I have no intention of letting my bitterness toward his 8 a.m. class go anytime soon. I find my classroom and grit my teeth as I throw the door open, figuring if I'm going to make an entrance, I should make it a grand entrance. The door, though, is much lighter than I anticipated, resulting in a more magnificent entrance than I'd been going for. It bangs and shudders loudly against the doorframe, interrupting the class and whatever Dr. D was standing up there droning about. Everyone turns to look at me, eyes wide with surprise, but I hardly notice them. Dr. D's gaze is sharp as he glares at me from the front of the room.

  "Ah, Miss Kelly," he says with a mocking smile. "So glad you could grace us with your pres
ence this morning."

  He gestures to the one empty desk in the entire room. The one that's dead front and center, and which may as well have my initials carved onto it and a spotlight beaming down on it, the way it seems to beckon me. I press my lips together, feeling my face flush with embarrassment as I make my way to the front of the room, stumbling over someone's wayward backpack along the way.

  I scowl up at him as I unzip my backpack and pull out my spiral notebook and textbook.

  "Oh no, please continue," he says, that same condescending smile spreading across his face. "We will wait for you."

  The sounds of movement, shuffling papers, creaking chairs, and the clicking of computer keyboards fill the room. I am one of the only students without my own laptop. I prefer taking notes the old-fashioned way. It's cheaper.

  "You may proceed," I mutter, meeting his gaze and smiling sweetly up at him.

  Someone in the back of the room snickers, and I force back a grin. This probably isn't the best time to crack up over my own smart-ass comments. Dr. D's gaze moves from me to the back of the class toward the direction of the voice.

  "As I was saying." He begins to pace the length of the room. "I do not tolerate tardiness." His gaze locks onto mine. "I know this is an early class, but I trust, as adults, that you all can make it here on time." Dr. D pauses for a moment, his eyes flicking around the room, waiting for his words to sink in. "I will consider your punctuality when determining your final grades for the semester."

  As Dr. D continues with the rest of his class, I decide that nothing will ever be worse in my entire life on Monday mornings than this class. And I'm reasonably sure that Dr. D's lack of personality and complete void of happiness in his life is responsible for the dull drone of his voice and the bored, indifferent glances he passes around the room. The second-worst part of my day will undoubtedly be the three hours of work after this class. All I want at this point is to get away from him.

  The small wire basket I've designated as my inbox is stacked to the top once again with various papers, folders, and envelopes. I drop my backpack and my violin case lightly to the floor, pushing them under my desk as I flop wearily into the squeaky desk chair to boot up my computer. There is a note taped to the monitor.

  "BEWARE OF THE MOUSE CABLE. IT WILL SHOCK YOU."

  I smile as I carefully remove the note and set it aside. The mouse cable has been a source of amusement for the past couple of days now, and the person with whom I share the desk has been leaving me notes regarding the mouse and its ever-deteriorating cable. That person apparently has more time to write little notes about mouse cables than I do. The second inbox on the desk is empty, whereas mine is overflowing.

  I manage to forget the horrible morning I had, and am able to get into a solid work groove for the rest of the day. Until I hear someone whisper to me.

  "Psst, hey Sophe. Sophe."

  It's Lauren, one of the student workers who help out at the front desk a few times a week. It's hard to know when I can talk to her and when I can't, and I've learned it's all dependent on if she's had her coffee or not. She leans somewhat coyly against the doorframe and twirls a strand of her bleached hair between her fingers.

  "Hey Lauren," I say brightly. She may be a little quirky, but I like her.

  She speaks slowly, her eyes focused on the tips of her twirling hair. "You may want to know that they're getting ready to post audition results out there."

  "What?" I leap out of my seat, and, unable to control her excitement, Lauren lets out a little squeal of excitement. "I have to go. I have to see if I made it." I pause for a moment. Dr. D will probably kill me if I'm away from my desk after I was already late to his class this morning. Even though my shift is almost over. I look longingly at the door that will lead me to my excitement or to my dismay. One or the other. My future is out there. "No, he can just calm down. I have less than fifteen minutes left in my shift. I have to go out there."

  "I'll cover for you." Lauren straightens, giving me a mock salute before turning sharply on the ball of her foot and returning to her desk.

  I grab my phone to text Colin and then race out into the lounge area, which is alive with pre-audition-results energy. Colin joins up with me after a few minutes, dressed as if he's just come from the gym.

  "Well?" he asks, his green eyes wide with anticipation.

  I shake my head and look in the direction of the recital hall door, which is where the most attention seems to be focused, and where I assume the results will be posted.

  "Nothing yet," I say, chewing my lip. "You'd think they'd do this all electronically now. They're so old-school around here."

  Colin laughs. "Keeps things exciting. How was your first day?"

  "Oh, God." I roll my eyes and proceed to tell Colin about how I was late to my very first college class, how it was like a nightmare come true, and how everyone stared at me when I banged through the door, when I'm suddenly distracted by Dr. D. He walks by, musical score open in his hand, staring down at it. He's deep in concentration, with his brows furrowed and his face all scrunched up as if he's just eaten something sour.

  His eyes suddenly move up from his music to lock with mine. How does he always know where to find me? For a split second, a fleeting look of surprise shoots across his face. Like he's shocked to see me away from my desk while I'm on the clock. But that look is quickly replaced by his usual look of indifference.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see the heavy wooden door to the recital hall open. A short, balding man and a tall, frizzy-haired woman poke their heads out, cautiously stepping out and clumsily affixing sheets of paper to the doors. There is a quick silence followed by a collective gasp. The door slams shut just in time for the frantic shuffle of movement as students eagerly rush the door.

  "The results," I whisper, feeling my heart jump into my throat.

  "Well, go have a look then," Colin urges, pressing a hand to the small of my back.

  "Hold on, I'm not ready yet," I whimper, pushing back against Colin's hand, resisting his gentle urge forward. "I will get trampled if I go now."

  The truth is, I need a moment to mentally prepare myself. To promise myself that I won't cry in front of all these people if I didn't make it.

  "Okay," I finally say, as I look back at the door. I take a deep breath. "I'm going in."

  Feeling strangely isolated and in need of Colin's reassurance, I move on legs numb and shaky with anxiety through the mob of musicians, some of whom are now pushing back out of the crowd. There is a mixture of emotions all around me. One girl is sobbing dramatically against her boyfriend's shoulder while two other girls jump up and down, shrieking like teenagers who just found out they have front-row tickets to a boy band concert.

  One of those two emotions. I'll either be boy-band happy or Academy Award-winning-performance sad.

  I inch closer, but can't quite see over the top of the guy's head in front of me. I weave from side to side to try to catch a glance and am nearly knocked off my feet when another guy bumps my shoulder, shouting "This is bullshit" over and over again.

  I push past a couple more people until I can finally see the page, which now hangs askew on the door. I can't believe it. My name is on the sheet. Third chair.

  "I made it," I breathe to myself. "I made it?" I look again, just to be safe. "No way!" I clutch the girl's arm beside me, who looks just as happy, so I assume she made it, too. "I made it. I can't believe he let me in." Her eyes widen as she gives me a confused but supportive smile. "He hates me, but he still let me in. Hallelujah!" I clutch at her arm and start jumping up and down like an idiot.

  She's happy, but doesn't quite share the same excitement that I have at this moment. Feeling slightly defeated with what could've been a fantastic female bonding opportunity, I stop jumping and turn to move back through the crowd, which is much easier now that the majority of students have seen the results and cleared out. As I make my way toward Colin, I feel a girly and probably high-pitched squeal bubbling in my t
hroat.

  "You made it," Colin calls, beaming at me as I walk toward him, picking up speed as I move. A huge, goofy smile stretches across my face. "I knew you would, Sophe."

  With a loud and probably obnoxious whoop of joy, I leap into his arms so that my legs have nowhere to go but around his waist. My personal boundaries and I didn't think this through very well.

  "I made it! Third chair!" My screechy voice echoes through the building. "Oh my God. I should text Greg," I say. "He's probably on his way to pick me up." With shaking hands, I pull my phone out of my bag and fire off a quick text message, only to feel the phone buzz in my back pocket seconds later.

  "GOOD NEWS? WAITING OUTSIDE FOR YOU, BTW. NO RUSH, BUT HURRY ANYWAY."

  I quickly answer Greg to let him know I'm on my way out.

  "I've got to go, Colin. Greg's waiting, and I think we're going to celebrate with buckets of ice cream. Sprinkles. The works!"

  I break into a run, anxious to get out and share my great news with my best friend. I am so happy I want to shriek with glee, but I instead pump my fist in the air as I round the corner, silently cheering my successes of the day. I don't even notice the person turning that very corner, heading straight toward me.

  I let out a garbled cry as I plow into Christoph von Drauchenberg. And a mug of liquid. "Very hot liquid," I squeal, grimacing in pain as his cup goes flying from his hands, dumping piping-hot tea all down the front of his freshly ironed white shirt, and hitting me with a pretty-decent-size splash, too. The mug falls to the ground and shatters.

  I am frozen in place. Paralyzed by the fear and embarrassment of what I've just done, I can't do anything except gape at him, my mouth hanging open.