chapter 2:1

2.1 Diary of a Dead Man

by katycage

Dedicated to NikkyKei

A quick note before you continue reading:

Please be sure to check out the free chapter

titled "Pronunciations | Glossary| Playlist" for

help understanding and navigating the

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That's all. I hope you enjoy the next chapter!

Moments of silence passed as Nika processed the

headmaster's words.

We don't have any new students.

"But...

As she struggled to create a viable sentence,

Kovachev scrutinized her, probably deciding

whether or not this was an act. Nika couldn't have

been more confused. He hadn't yet explained the

school's lockdown, nor what rule she'd broken and

how it connected to the security measure. And

now this-a revelation that the new boy was, in

fact, not a new student at all.

"Tell me what happened with Dante Azzara"

Kovachev said. "From beginning to end."

Despite wanting to throw her fist on the

headmaster's desk and demand to know what

crime she'd supposedly committed, Nika leashed

her outrage. Inhaling a long breath, she

remembered...

Lounging in a bean bag chair inside one of

Konstantin Academy's abandoned dormitories,

Nika watched a moth flutter around a ceiling light.

She envied moths. They didn't have to worry

about boys. Especially one named Miles Crane,

whose heart was too big and whose lips were too

loose.

She ran his words over and over in her mind: /love

you, Nika.

It was an effort not to cringe.

In retrospect, she knew she'd been a fool to think

their no-strings arrangement would work. Every

semester, Miles seemed to fall for a different girl.

Sooner or later, he was liable to turn those

toward Nika.

Unreciprocated feelings, of course. Miles had been

one of her first friends at Konstantin. She'd never

denied her physical attraction to him, but that was

as far as it went. Because Miles, despite his

ridiculous comedic skills and endearing loyalty,

would never be right for her. Not unless he

abandoned the fanatic political opinions that had

become an intrinsic part of who he was.

"Hello?" said an unfamiliar voice, yanking her out

the daze.

Nika stiffened and surveyed the cabin interior

dark wooden walls covered with tribal paintings

and animal skulls, the Aztec rug beneath her feet,

the rickety ping pong table at the far end of the

room.

But no signs of people. Was she hearing things?

A knock on the door. "Out here"

Nika squinted at the windows, but thanks to the

pitch-black night beyond, she only saw her

reflection. She approached the door and opened

it.

On the lightless porch stood a boy, Nika's age or a

little older, with a bronze face and eyes like liquid

innaman ua ctviuclur cidaauaucomilaandMilsal,

Cinnamon. He struCk a sideways smile, and NikaS

heart fluttered. Whoever he was, he wasn't a

difficult specimen to observe.

His expression bloomed into awed delight. "Are

you... "Adeep breath. "You're Nika Dimitrovich."

Just like that, her admiration dissipated. She

scarcely met a new person without remembering

her identity. A halfblood born out of wedlock to a

leader of the Daemonstri government. No one ever

saw her as Nika-girl, novice, normal.

"The one and only," she said with forced

politeness. "And you2"

"Dante." He extended a hand, and Nika shook it.

"Dante Azzara."

Azzara-she'd never heard of that family before. It

must not have been a prominent one.

While Dante continued staring with that look of

stupid awe, Nika stepped out of the cabin and shut

the door behind her. Then she crossed her arms

and shrugged, feeling his attention like an itch she

couldn't relieve.

"Are you a new student?" she asked.

"Just started classes today"

Nika looked him over. He wore jeans and at-shirt,

both speckled with holes and frayed edges.

Strange. Most Nefili students-herself included

opted for athletic wear because of their highly

physical class schedule. From the time they could

walk, novices prepared for a career of villain-

fighting in the Vigil.

And Dante had to be a Nefili. Despite his

attractiveness, his appearance was too dull for a

Serafi. Had he belonged to the angelic witch race,

he would have emitted a halo--a faint inner glow

of the skin.

"Are you lost?" Nika said, gesturing to their

surroundings.

The abandoned dorms had gone unused for

decades. Located on the edge of the forest, they

were separated from the main campus by a grove

of assorted trees. All that connected the two areas

was a dirt path. The cabins sagged in disrepair,

weeds and shrubs littered the uneven glade, yet it

was still a peaceful place, and Nika loved the

remoteness. The solitude.

Dante scratched behind his ear. "This school is

such a maze. Can you tell me how to find the

library?"

She gave the directions, and they began to part

ways until Dante said, "Can I ask why you're out

here?"

"I like to get away sometimes."

He lingered near the porch steps, those red-brown

eyes swimming with something she couldn't

identify.

"Stop staring." The words were out before she'd

even thought of them.

Dante looked down. "Sorry, you just... "

"I just what?"

Again, he flashed that crooked grin and dragged

his eyes up her body. "You're prettier in person."

Nika's face heated, and she turned toward the

forest, scoffing.

"You can't take compliments, can you?"

"Not exactly used to them."

In fact, it was the opposite of what she was used to

-insults, ridicule, condemnation. The Halfblood

Bastard was the shame of Daemonstri society:

Tainted blood. A blight to our kind. How dare she

call herselfa Dimitrovich!

"It's criminal," Dante said, his tone harsh, "how

people treat you."

Nika couldn't bring herself to look at him. These

were radical ideas he'd just offered to the

discussion table.

"It's certainly not fair" she said, "but what can I do

about it?"

"More than you realize." He descended the stairs,

backing away from her. "I hope to see you again,

halfblood."

She flinched at the name, but when that smile

crept onto his face again, she knew he was teasing.

Or perhaps, she thought as he vanished into the

trees, it was a compliment. She supposed she'd

never know for certain.

Nika relayed the encounter from beginning to end,

just as Kovachev had instructed. He squinted at

her for several moments before saying, "Early this

morning, while you skipped class, the library was

burglarized"

This school is such a maze. Can you tell me where

the libraryis?

Nika's mouth went dry. "What was stolen?"

Kovachev leaned back in his swiveling chair. "You

tell me."She snorted. "Breaking into libraries isn't my

signature offense."

Kovachev scowled. Apparently, he could have gone

without the reminder of Nika's previous

infractions, most of which involved humiliating

staff members or damaging school property. She'd

never stolen anything, though. Nothing at

Konstantin was worth the fuss. At least, not to

Nika.

"Well?" she pressed.

A sigh. "The journal of Konstantin the Keeper"