Nocticadia: A Dark Academia Gothic Romance

Cavick Hall had to be the most intimidating lunch commons I’d ever seen. A high vaulted ceiling, tall enough to have accommodated a freaking space shuttle, loomed over thick wooden trusses that buttressed the walls. Elegant candelabras and stained-glass windows, set above white bust sculptures, gave a gothic feel to the expansive space. Like the lunch spread at Darrigan Hall, rows of chafing dishes sat out on long tables, but Cavick had twice the number—almost overwhelming, how many options the place offered.

Given the opulent spread, I opted for a somewhat pathetic breakfast of avocado toast and coffee. I’d lost a bit of my appetite since that conversation with Conner and, after a mostly sleepless night, still hadn’t gained it back. I’d debated making an anonymous call to police and turning Angelo over, but who knew what that would’ve meant for Conner, if they started nosing around in Angelo’s shady affairs. I couldn’t risk that they’d find him guilty of something, too.

I decided to let it go. After all, ruminating about it wouldn’t make it go away.

As I nibbled on my toast, I glanced around the room at the other students who’d flown in for a quick bite. Unlike high school, where I’d been ousted as a loser for sitting alone, Dracadia seemed to embrace its loners sprinkled about the room, unbothered by their solitude. Some studied as they ate. Others scrolled through phones. A handful lunched in groups, but their clusters were few by comparison. Strange, the way I felt less lonely in my being alone.

After breakfast, I scampered across campus and, once again, found myself in Emeric Hall for another class I hadn’t signed up for–entomology with Loretta Gilchrist. Seeing as she was the one who’d had some influence in my acceptance, I was in no position to complain, though, and I hoped to make a good impression, in case she had anything to do with my tuition for the second semester.

“Miss Vespertine?”

At the sound of the feminine voice, I leaned back from hunching over myself to grab the laptop from my bookbag. A fairly attractive, dark-haired woman with speckles of gray roots, perhaps in her late forties, stood before me, holding the signature black and gold coffee cup, her eyes scrunched with a smile.

“Yes?”

“Dr. Gilchrist.” She held out a slender hand, which I promptly shook. “I see you accepted the invitation. Wonderful.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you for whatever magic you pulled to get me in. I am both grateful and thoroughly impressed. The campus is incredible.”

“It is. As was your paper on Noctisoma.” With both hands, she lifted the cup and slurped some of the fluids in an unbecoming way for a woman who seemed well put together. “I found the clinical details absolutely engrossing. Tell me, have you had the chance to meet our provost, Dr. Lippincott yet?”

“The provost? No.” I couldn’t imagine a reason I’d have needed to–I couldn’t even have said who the provost was at Covington Community. Maybe they hadn’t had one, but I found it strange she’d have asked that.

“I recommend you make an appointment. He’ll be very pleased to make your acquaintance, I’m sure.”

“Okay. I didn’t realize the provost took appointments with students.”

“It isn’t common, he’s a very busy man, but for you, I’m sure he’ll make the exception.” Her eyes scrunched again, and she gave a small chuckle and lifted her cup for another slurp of coffee.

“Well, look who it is.” As Spencer strode up to me, Gilchrist lowered her cup and turned toward him.

“You two have met?” she asked.

“Yeah. We have another class together.” He dropped his bag into the chair next to mine, indicating he had every intention of sitting beside me in this class, as well. “Bramwell’s parasitology class.”

Gilchrist frowned, her gaze shifting from mine to Spencer’s. “Dr. Bramwell’s neuroparasitology class? That’s a junior level advanced class. He doesn’t allow underclassmen.” The argumentative tone in her voice struck me as odd, as if I’d chosen to be in grumpy’s class.

“Smarty pants here seemed to get in.”

“Dr. Bramwell is quite particular about his students. I can’t imagine how you managed to charm him.” Again with that smile that I’d begun to think was as feigned as Kendall’s.

“I actually didn’t sign up for his class. I was placed there.”

One would’ve thought I’d smacked her, the way she flinched in response. “Placed there. By whom?”

“Not sure, to be honest. I logged in to register, and both of your classes were already on my schedule.”

“Yes, well, my class is an appropriate level class for you. The other is not.”

I shrugged, increasingly uneasy with the conversation. “Professor Bramwell seemed okay with it.”

“Of course he did. But he is not the Department Chair for the college of natural science. I am. If you’ll excuse me …”

It must’ve been a bigger deal than I thought. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have me removed, though, because even if he was something of an asshole, I still intended to needle some answers out of him.

“We must’ve been on the same wavelength with class scheduling, huh?” Spencer’s question snapped me out of my thoughts as he leaned in closer. “I’m actually the TA for this class. Just so you know, she can be a little strange. Woman studies insects all day long.”

I snorted at his comment, watching Gilchrist dial her phone before she turned to face the wall, speaking low enough that I couldn’t hear the conversation.

Very strange.

When she turned back around, tucking her phone away, her eyes were on me again. Gone was the tepid welcome there, replaced by a cold expression that had me shifting in my seat.

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” I whispered back to Spencer. “Didn’t realize I’d broken the rules.”

“If Bramwell’s okay with you being there, there really isn’t much she can do. He’s pretty tight with the provost and deans.”

“I’m not trying to make waves. I just find his class fascinating.”

“Fascinating?” Spencer snorted that time and leaned back into his chair. “Give it some time. A couple campus parties, and you’ll be right in the head again.”

I frowned at him, a snippy comeback parked at the back of my throat, but as Gilchrist took her place at the lectern to begin, the insult died on my tongue.

Gilchrist’s lecture was, by no means, anywhere near as riveting as Dr. Bramwell’s. Not by a long shot. Her delivery was bland enough that I could hardly stay focused without my mind wandering into other thoughts, and the tug of my eyelids from little sleep the night before had me wishing I’d brought a cup of coffee to class. The struggle to stay awake and focused overrode my ability to absorb anything she’d said, and by the time class had ended, I felt like I had taken an unrestful nap.

“I’m impressed,” Spencer said, catching up to me as I headed toward my next class. “Pretty sure I fell asleep on the first day of her class.”

“She’s a smart woman, no doubt, but robots have more personality when they speak.”

Spencer let out a chuckle and waved to a small group of guys walking by. “I heard her say something about Provost Lippincott.”

“Yeah. She thinks I should make an appointment with him. I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that he’s pretty busy.”

“I can get you an appointment.”

This guy. If I didn’t find him to be genuinely nice, I’d wonder what the hell his motives were. “You’ve got pull like that?”

“He’s my father.”

Oh. Shit. My mind suddenly found itself rewinding back to all of our conversations, and I tried not to let myself cringe too much at the memory of the first day when he’d bought my lunch. “Wow. That’s crazy.”

“Don’t be too impressed. My father is a strict believer in following the rules. Believe me, there are no special privileges.”

“That’s why you’re kitchen duty?”

“The man insists that I show some responsible effort in contributing to my education.” He let out a long sigh and shook his head. “Anyway, I’m happy to put in a word with his secretary.”

“If I can get her number, I’ll just contact her myself.” I reached into my bag for my phone, noticing it was gone. “Oh shit. I think I left my phone back at class. Look, I’ll catch up to you later.”

“Tonight, right? Midnight lab?”

“Right!” I called out over my shoulder and darted back toward the lecture hall, scrambling through the empty seats until I spotted my phone on the floor. As I bent to pick it up, voices neared, and it was only by some weird instinct that I ducked down behind the row of seats in front of me. Chiding the decision, I shook my head, but just before I could push to my feet, the click of a door echoed through the room, shutting me inside with whomever just entered.

“My time is limited. I’ll ask that you make this quick.” At the sound of the bone-penetrating baritone voice, I peered through the gaps in the seats to spot Professor Bramwell standing at the front of the lecture hall with Professor Gilchrist, who sauntered toward him from the door that I could clearly see had been shut.

Shit.

“I don’t understand why you placed her in a class that requires a prerequisite. As Department Chair for this college, I should be informed of any exceptions made as they relate to students. It’s very strange, and on the heels of you not returning my phone calls, even more so.”

“I’ll ask that you not confuse the two circumstances. It has nothing to do with you and me.”

“Of course not. And I know you despise any accusation of you and a student. Please accept my apologies, Devryck.” Her shoulders sagged as she stepped closer, keeping a small distance between the two of them. “I meant no disrespect, and I know that you would never consort with a student that way.”

My suspicions about him must’ve been true, then. The guy seemed more apt to make out with a textbook before hitting on any of his students.

“I’m just … was it touching you that pushed you away?” Hands clasped together, she dared another step toward him, and the desperation in her tone had me shaking my head. “I promise it won’t happen again. Please give me another chance.”

Another chance? Why she pined over the asshole was baffling and, as a fellow woman, painful to watch. I wanted to leap out from behind the seat and shake some sense into her.

He stepped away, seemingly uncomfortable. “Do not question my decisions as they relate to my class. Miss Vespertine is there because I allowed it, and because I think she’ll excel.”

“Really?” Realizing I’d spoken aloud, I slapped a hand over my face, the panic shooting through my muscles like jolts of electricity. Peering through the gap showed no indication that either had heard me, though. They didn’t offer so much as a glance in my direction, thank God.

“Excel? That’s a stretch. She’s smart, I’ll give her that. But she isn’t that smart, Devryck.”

Lowering my hand from my lips, I frowned. What a bitch thing to say.

“Are we finished here?” he asked with an air of boredom.

“You tell me.”

“I’ll call you if I have a change of heart.”

Ouch. The way he spoke with such detachment left me feeling a little sorry for her. As hot as he was, particularly for a professor, he sure as hell had a moody side to him.

She scoffed and shook her head. “You are, without a doubt, the most confusing man I’ve ever met.”

“That’s the problem, Loretta. You seem to be easily confused.”

My phone lit up with a text notification, and I damned near dropped it trying to shut it off. Eyes clenched shut, lips tight, I waited for one of them to approach. Surely, they’d seen the flash of light in the dim room.

Surely, I’d be picked up by the scruff of my neck and tossed out, accused of being a snoop.

The door clicked shut. I looked through the gap to find neither of them standing there. Exhaling a shaky breath, I glanced down to a message from Jayda, asking about Angelo. No doubt, she’d seen the news report.

I finally pushed to my feet to find Professor Bramwell hadn’t, in fact, left. He stood before the row of seats in front of me, hands in his pockets, eyes pissed off, as usual.

Shit.

“The next time you decide to eavesdrop, perhaps you might opt to be more subtle.”

“I, um … I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I forgot my phone.” On a nervous chirp of a laugh, I held up my phone, as if that proved anything.

He didn’t bother to respond, only stared at me like he was silently conjuring the door to hell so he could toss me into the flaming pits and call it a day. Instead, he turned to leave.

“Professor!” I lurched, nearly dropping my phone. “I was wondering if I could ask a few questions? Regarding Noctisoma.”

“I’ve no time. I hold limited office hours, Miss Vespertine. You’re welcome to make an appointment.”

“Right. Sure. I’ll do that.”

Without so much as another glance, he exited, and I exhaled a shaky breath. Man, the guy was intense.

My thoughts drifted back to his conversation with Gilchrist–namely the subtle compliment he’d handed off. “Excel,” I whispered to myself, emphasizing the word. “Ex-cel.” Had he known I was there when he’d said it? That I’d heard him? What was it about a man known to be brilliant but grouchy handing out a random compliment like a decadent piece of chocolate that I wanted to savor before it melted?

He’s an asshole, the voice inside my head argued back. Don’t put too much into it.

Yeah, he was. An exceptionally good-looking and smart asshole.

Sighing, I headed to my next class.