Lessons in Sin by Pam Godwin

CHAPTER 5

MAGNUS

During the ten-minute walk to the dormitories, Tinsley kept pace with my longer strides, all the while pushing her bottom lip forward in an expression of discontent. Or maybe her lip naturally rested that way.

Pouty.

Sexy.

No, Christ. I snatched away the thought before it drew breath.

I couldn’t think it, whether it was true or not. But there was something else appealing about her at the moment.

Her silence.

Sweet, glorious silence.

When she wasn’t talking, she seemed older. More mature. With a lithe figure and self-assured gait, she carried herself with refinement and grace. Not in a deliberate way. No, she tried very hard to exude defiance and hostility. But when she let her guard down, her breeding shone through.

Obedience was second nature to her.

Submissiveobedience.

That whisper of truth was harder to snuff out. It spoke directly to the parts of me I longed to forget.

“Were you telling the truth about the falcons?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t lie to you. Not about that or anything else.”

“Oh. Right. Because priests don’t lie?”

“Because I don’t lie. Left here.”

She turned into the next hallway, depriving my view of her face. “Will I be able to see the falcons outside? Do the fledglings fly near the school?”

“Sometimes.”

“Cool.” Her spine remained stiff, her tone terse. But the mention of the birds seemed to improve her mood by a small degree.

“We’re leaving the main building now.” I escorted her into a vacant corridor. “It houses the classrooms, offices, library, and dining hall. Up ahead is the residence hall. All students must be in their rooms for the night by nine. Lights out at ten. Otherwise, you’re free to roam within the walls of the campus.”

“When are we allowed outside the walls to roam the rest of the property?”

Sion Academy was one of two boarding schools in our small, self-contained village. Our sister school, St. John de Brebeuf, was an all-boys school run by Father Crisanto Cruz.

Unscalable walls encircled each campus. While aesthetically pleasing, they provided security against outside threats and prevented unauthorized interactions between the two schools. The church, athletic field, theater, and gymnasium sat at the center of the village between the two campuses, allowing us to share the costs of those facilities.

The sister school arrangement was a mutually beneficial one. It also didn’t hurt that Father Crisanto was my childhood best friend.

“There will be plenty of opportunities to explore the village,” I said. “But outside of the campus gates, students must be supervised at all times.”

“Heaven forbid an innocent virgin sees a boy.”

“There are regular social activities involving students from both schools as well as daily Mass.”

“What?” She stopped, her eyes bulging. “You go to church every day?”

“While school is in session, all students and faculty members attend Mass every morning at eight. Except Saturdays.”

“Um, yeah…” She made a face and continued walking. “Don’t sign me up for that.”

“Every student, Miss Constantine. As long as you’re a member of this school, you will follow the Catechism of the Catholic Church.”

“This just keeps getting better and better.”

“Ninety percent of this is how you react to it. Change your attitude.”

“And the other ten percent?”

“It’s happening whether you like it or not. That’s life.”

We entered the residence hall just as the door to the first room opened. Miriam stepped out and gave me a smile weathered with age.

“Good evening, Father Magnus.” She tucked a silver lock of hair behind her ear and took in my petulant charge. “You must be Tinsley.”

“Sure.” She shrugged.

“Tinsley.” I narrowed my eyes. “This is Miriam, the language arts teacher.”

“I’m also the dorm mother,” Miriam said.

“So basically, you’re here to make sure we don’t sneak out.” Tinsley arched a brow.

“No, I delegate that job. There’s a senior student assigned to each floor, tasked with supervising the residents and maintaining the safety and security of the dorm. We call them big sisters.”

“Mm. Sounds like a coveted job,” Tinsley said dryly, “for tattletales.”

Miriam inclined her head, giving no other reaction. She’d been doing this for a long time and experienced every manner of rebellion and rule breaking. Tinsley couldn’t faze the woman if she tried.

“I’m here to ensure the cleanliness of the dorms, administer medication, address individual needs, offer counseling, and otherwise support the activities of all the girls.” She tapped the door at her back. “My apartment is here. If you need anything at all, you know where to find me.”

“What I need is to go home.” Tinsley looked her dead in the eyes. “I don’t want to be here.”

“Give it a few weeks. You’ll change your mind.”

“Um, nooo,” she said in a singsongy voice. “I’m like one hundred percent certain that’s not going to happen.”

“If I’m wrong, we’ll talk about it. In the meantime, your luggage was sent to your room, along with everything you need for tomorrow.”

Miriam looked and sounded like a sweet old lady, but she ruled the dormitories with an iron fist. Tinsley would learn that soon enough.

“Have a good night, Miriam.” I motioned Tinsley toward the stairwell. “Let’s go.”

Silence greeted us on the second floor. The girls would be in the dining hall for another hour before checking into their rooms and settling in for the first day of school.

I didn’t venture into this building often. I avoided it, to be honest. Too many teenage hormones and frilly pink things. Not to mention, I dreaded walking past an open door and seeing something that would put me in a compromising position.

“There are no cameras in the halls.” I stopped at the second door. “No locks on the rooms.”

“Where does the snitch sleep?” At my blank look, she clarified. “The big sister.”

“Daisy is next to you.” I nodded at the first dorm. “The bathroom is across the hall.” I reached into the second room and flicked on the light. “This is you.”

She craned her neck, peering into the spartan space. The twin bed, desk, and nightstand waited to be personalized. Most of the students went crazy decorating their rooms. But given the single small bag on the floor, she’d only brought the necessities.

“Is that your only luggage?” I asked.

“Apparently.” She didn’t move a muscle to step into the room as if doing so would seal her fate.

That ship had already sailed.

“The student handbook is on the desk. Read it before you go to sleep. In it you’ll find campus maps and basic info like the dress code.” From my position in the hall, I spotted her bedding and uniforms in the closet. “Mass begins at eight a.m. Be downstairs at seven forty-five sharp. You’ll see where the girls are gathering to be escorted to the church.”

She stared at the room, her gaze unfocused, unblinking. Shell-shocked.

Then she pulled in a breath and looked at me. “I’m sorry for being disrespectful.”

I stared back, waiting for the catch.

“May I have my phone, please?” She fluttered her lashes.

“No.” I flicked a finger, waving her into the room. “See that door? I want you on the other side of it until morning.”

Her jaw set, her posture stiffening for a fight.

“That means now.” I used a caustic tone, one that had been known to clear out a boardroom in under three seconds.

It had the same effect with Tinsley, her entire body springing into action before I roared the last syllable.

Gasping, she backed into the room with jerky steps and bumped into the desk. Visible tremors ran along her limbs. Her chin quivered, and she held herself tightly, an arm clutched around her midsection.

But she didn’t crumple. Didn’t sink to the floor like the others. Not this girl. She stood taller, slowly lowered her arm, and squared her shoulders.

The heave of her chest pulled her shirt taut, stretching the material across smallish breasts, pert little bumps, just enough tender flesh to crush between a finger and thumb.

I tore my gaze away and stared down at my hand, at my fingers rubbing against my thumb. Mimicking. Envisioning. Wanting that which I could not have. Like an addict in withdrawal.

My hands went into my pockets. My breathing remained steady. The muscles in my face never twitched. But beneath the facade, my sickness raged in a furnace of fire.

It wanted fear and pain, blood and welts, bruising, biting, choking, pounding, pounding, pounding…raw, feral, ruthless fucking.

I craved it.

Her fear scented the air, her breaths faltering and her pretty little elven face bereft of color. But she was strong. Resilient. She could bear it.

She would take it so beautifully.

Time to go.

I pulled the door closed, shutting her away before she saw my true form. Then I got the hell out of there.