Mag-log inSkyeThe lecture hall in the psychology department is big enough to hold every single faculty member and the entire university administration in one place at one time. But I’ve never seen everyone gathered like this before, and the undercurrent in the room is so thick with unease I can taste it. Dr. Gerralde parts the aisle where I’m seated, sidestepping in my direction, and his pale face and uneasy eyes make my heart leap when I rise to my feet. “Sit down,” he says under his breath. “What’s going on?” I ease back into my seat. Everyone else is tittering nervously as well. Murmured conversations lift to the ceiling, but the podium remains empty. “The president is meeting with the board and the deans as we speak,” he says under his breath, glancing around the room before leaning in to continue. “A student is dead.”“What?”The door to the lecture hall bursts open before I can process the impossible news I just heard. An echo claps through the crowd in its wake, abruptly quieting ev
SkyeA network of skybridges and elevators leads to a handful of warming rooms and airlocks directly on the surface of the ice. The main one is quite large and houses a row of lockers, as well as changing rooms for men and women, and separate outdoor entrances for both. I hang my coat in a locker, fiddling with my padlock, then walk into the women’s changing room, where steam creeps across the floor, and several shower nooks spray warm, wet air, the entire space almost suffocated with humidity. I change out of my clothes and fold my pants and sweater neatly before donning the robe I brought from my condo. It took me an hour to find it, seeing as I’ve barely started the process of organizing my clothing after moving into my new place, but now it’s almost midnight, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to sleep until I burned off some energy. It’s a balmy negative sixty when I shove open the door to the airlock and close it with a crunch behind me. Wind rattles the thick, frosted glass
SkyeI adjust the thick scarf worn around my neck and square my shoulders, careful of every movement I make while Abby picks at the plate of food on the tray in front of her. The cafeteria around us is quiet at this hour, full of students snacking in silent solitude over laptops and stacks of books, and professors and postdocs finding scraps worth of a meal after a long day of research and lectures. My last lecture of the day wrapped up less than an hour ago without the drama or fanfare I expected. Most of my lectures are math-heavy, which seriously irks my more experimentally leaning students. I spent the entire lecture with my back turned to the podium, making sure my scarf and turtleneck stayed in place, ignoring the groans and murmuring behind me. Now, the bruise is hard to ignore. It pinches with every move I make, and the scarf is definitely overkill. I’m sweating under the weight of it. “What’s up with you?” Abby asks, looking just as uncomfortable and as exhausted as I am.
Skye“Chin up.” I tilt my chin, my vision taken up by the serious but strangely devoted look painting shadows across the planes of Alex’s face as he zips me into a bright yellow parka, all the way to the neck. He’s careful, far more gentle when touching me than he was only half an hour ago, when I was breathless on his lap, and he sucked a bruise so deep I can still feel it throbbing. He’ll barely meet my eyes as it stands. In all honesty, I can barely meet his. Whatever that was felt… less like I was offering him the sustenance he desperately needed and more like something totally, completely, out of control and overtly sexual. I flush with heat just thinking about it, a small, involuntary squeak leaving my lips when he grips my fingers and reaches above my head to dig through a bin of gloves. We’re chest to chest, and he smells… amazing. Like everything male, dangerous, and delicious. Like things I can’t possibly place because this is the first time I’ve ever wanted–“These should
AlexVampires generally don’t need sleep. By sleep, I mean the deep, vulnerable kind that allows dreams to fade into focus and a body to go slack. Vamp kids, sure. They sleep all the time, but once our biological clock starts to slow, once necessary things like sleep make less of a difference in our overall performance, we generally don’t do it. A light rest? Sure. I’ve needed one of those for a long, long time, which is why, when I open my eyes after an hour on Skye’s couch to find her sitting on the coffee table in front of me, our knees touching, her eyes open wide and full of so much excitement she’s trembling, I wish on whatever gods are listening that I could, in fact, just shut my eyes and let the entire world fade to black, even just for a few more hours. She’s gripping a notebook for dear life, her eyes holding on mine expectantly. “What time is it?” I ask. Deciding not to move an inch and pretending to be in some kind of blood coma might work in my favor when it comes to
SkyeWhen I was a little girl, I had these amazing dreams almost every night. I could have gone anywhere in the dream realm, coasting on ribbons of thoughts and memories that didn’t belong to me, but one place felt like home more than others. One place with scratchy chairs, sconces lighting the floor, and otherwise, darkness. I still don’t know why I used to have dreams about the observatory on the campus where I now work as a professor. I don’t know why that little, nameless boy haunted those dreams. His memory is starting to fade with every year that passes, but I know one thing for certain. I am meant to be here. Not because of my brain. Not because of my advancements in physics and the world of science as a whole. Not because of my map of distant stars that witches will one day use to strengthen their magic. No, it’s because of this. Gods, I feel it in my bones the second I press my bare wrist to Alex’s lips. His eyes meet mine, unsure, maybe even a little scared. How long
*Isaac*Four days earlier…Cassian crouches on the other side of the fire, balancing on his heels. His pen scribbles over the notepad resting on his knee. He pauses, cursing under his breath,and tears the page free before crumpling it and throwing it in the fire. “What the fuck am I even supposed to s
*Maddy*“Maddy!” The voice comes again, louder than the first time. I rise to my feet, my legs tingling from lack of use. The fire in the cave shudders out on a phantom wind. I bristle against the sudden chill, my hands trembling as I feel along the cave wall toward the entrance. It’s nearly pitch bl
*Maddy*I had enough time to go back to my room to change, but once I got there, I was a little lost. Standing in front of the closet looking into the darkened depths which Hannah had filled with clothing in exactly my size, ranging from soft linen and silk lounge wear to the most incredible gowns an
*Maddy*I spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening with Ella in her studio. She’s nearly finished with my official portrait, and it’s exquisite, so realistic it could be a photograph.As I pick through my dinner sometime later, I silently wonder if anyone captured any pictures of Isaac and I







