The Otherling Read online

  He didn’t like the way his heart beat faster when she was near, or the way he had to clench his jaw to steady his composure. It was unlike him to react to anyone in such a way. In all his years, never had any woman had such a powerful effect on him. He clenched his jaw at all these new feelings, trying to guard himself against them. How dare she seem so innocent, when he was sure she was not as innocent as she presented herself to be. He began to resent her, and the feelings she elicited from him.

  Taking a deep breath, Sebastian pondered the fact that she had entered his life just before a string of strange events began happening. Had she sent these dreams he wondered? And if so, why? Who or what, was she that gave her the power to send dreams, and why did he have such a visceral reaction to her, when no one before her had ever set his mind spinning or made the air about him suddenly seem more alive?

  Perhaps she was some sort of spell binder, maybe even a succubus, using glamour to enchant him, so she could fulfill some secret, mysterious plan. She seemed innocent, but he was not going to let himself be fooled. He tried to imagine her as a succubus, one of those wicked demons that seduced men and then stole their souls.

  Images of a dark room lit by a single candle flashed through his mind, her flesh hot against his skin, her kisses burning his lips. The vision stole his breath, surprising him greatly. What was really going on? It was best to distance himself from her, whatever she was confused his senses, and he couldn’t afford more thought now with the class to start so soon.

  She certainly seemed more in her element today, and though it was a good thing, he wondered what had changed. No matter. He knew he wouldn't have to wait too long before the meaning of the dream became evident.

  Focusing on the day before him, he opened his books and looked at the list of students who would be in his classroom shortly. It was time to put away his personal musings and become the Professor again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Owl

  By the time Annaleah returned to the classroom, a small desk had been set at the front of the room, several feet away from Professor Bainbridge's. A nameplate bearing her name had been placed on it, front and center, along with a plain black mug full of pens, a few university books and a notepad. She walked over to her new desk, smiling broadly.

  "The Chancellor wishes you to know this desk is only temporary. When your time permits, she would like to see you so that you may procure another more suited to your tastes," the Professor said, watching as Annaleah opened and closed the drawers. She was about to tell him that this desk would suit her just fine, when the bell rang and the last of the students filed in. Not really knowing what to do, she took her place behind her desk and waited for Professor Bainbridge to introduce her.

  The Professor walked to the front of the classroom, and all eyes fell upon him. "Good morning students, welcome to World Religions. In this class you will learn many things, one of which is respect. You will give whomever is speaking your full attention and you will raise your hand before you speak. I’m a great admirer of rules and order, and I expect you to act accordingly while you are learning in my class. There are to be no cell phones on during my class. If one rings it becomes mine." Several students, groaning at this disclosure, pulled out their cell phones and turned them off.

  "I must also make it clear," the Professor continued, "that if you are taking this class as a means to fill your credits and not as something to take seriously, you will not be handled with children's gloves and given a mark that you have not worked fastidiously to earn. This is not going to be an easy class, but I hope it will be one that you find both enlightening and rewarding.

  “There has also been a change from last year's methodology, which I am sure will be quite refreshing for those of you who have taken my classes before. I will be joined in teaching you by Miss Annaleah Grace. You will treat her with the same respect and attention that you would give to me. For the first few weeks of class, I shall be training her for the most part, so I also expect that she will have some questions for us as well. Please join me in welcoming Miss Grace." He stretched his arm towards Annaleah and turned slightly to look her in the eye. She rose from behind the desk and walked to the front of the class, and he moved aside a bit to give her room to speak.

  "Thank you, Professor Bainbridge. Good morning everyone, it is a pleasure to be here with you all," Annaleah began, looking at the faces of the students before her. Some looked at her with respect, while others did not look at her at all, regarding their nails or the clock over her head with more interest. "I am honored to be teaching World Religions with the Professor. While I do not hold such a prestigious title myself, I am both a student and a teacher of the occult and of things arcane. I will do my best to teach you these things during my time here."

  A woman dressed all in black raised her hand. Annaleah nodded at her. "You mean things like witchcraft and Satanism?" asked the girl. There was a small bit of laughter and someone hummed the Twilight Zone theme.

  "Quiet!" the Professor said. "Please continue, Miss Grace."

  "Yes," Annaleah answered. "They will both be included, among other things. There are many types of witchcraft as well, and not many of them include pointy hats and warted noses. We will discuss things such as how the media and Hollywood influence the subject of the occult, how other religions treat witchcraft, voodoo, and other practices, as well as many other subjects. I have been a student of such things since I was a child."

  The girl who had asked the question about witchcraft raised her hand again. "So what was it exactly, that really got you interested in witchcraft and the occult, and do you see yourself as a witch?" she asked, seeming genuinely interested.

  Annaleah glanced at the Professor, unsure whether or not he was willing to let her have so much of the floor on the first day of class. He was leaning slightly on his desk, and seemed interested in what she had to say. His expression suggested he didn't know why she had looked to him at all, and that she should answer the question given her.

  Annaleah felt her cheeks go hot, as she tried to find the right words to say. She hoped no one noticed the color rising in her face. "Honestly,” she answered, "it's not really something I have been asked before. I guess I would have to say truthfully, as odd as it might sound, I got interested because of dreams. I began to have some rather odd ones when I was a child. Dream dictionaries and other books just didn't seem to have the answers I needed."

  A young man dressed head to foot in various shades of brown raised his hand. "Yes?" Annaleah asked, pointing to him.

  "So what made you turn to the occult for answers?" He asked, with a slight accent that Annaleah couldn't place. She noted that most of the students who had previously been fiddling or otherwise not listening now seemed to be giving her all of their attention. She felt both relieved and on the spot. As she thought of a good, honest answer to give, she also wondered how the Professor thought she was handling things on her first day. Was she doing well? Did he resent her speaking too much? As she tried her best not to look at him again, she answered the question.

  "It was the lack of other options," Annaleah answered. "I knew that my mother, when she was still alive, was a white witch, and it seemed only natural for me to pursue this course. Oh, by the way, yes, I am a witch. Or, as I might be more properly classified, I am an eclectic pagan who follows mostly the Wiccan rede and deities. To give you an idea of what I was trying to find information on, let me ask you a question. Has anyone here ever heard of dream walking?'

  The girl who had asked the first question raised her hand. "Isn't that a Native American thing; something about visiting another person's dreams?"

  "That's right, very nice," Annaleah said, relaxing a little. "In fact, not much else can be found on the subject of dream walking, other than it is something which takes a lot of skill and practice to do and requires a certain ethic when practicing. I have, as of today, only found two books ever focused on this subject, and only one of them was an occult book."

/>   Annaleah was starting to feel a bit more in her element, interested in what the students had to say. However, she could feel the professor's gaze upon her, and was doing her best not to look at him, keenly aware of the effect his deep eyes had on her. She was enjoying the interaction with the class, and was afraid that if she looked once more at him, she would lose her composure, and therefore her respect, from the students.

  Suddenly, there was a thunderous crashing noise at the window, as something large and brown flew into it hard, cracking but not shattering the glass. Everyone jumped in unison, startled. Cries of "What on earth?" and "What was that!?" filled the room, as they all tried at once to go to the window to see what had smashed into it.

  "Everyone back to your desks at once," said the Professor in a loud, firm voice. "There is no need to panic. I assure you we are not being attacked. Miss Grace will go outside and see what hit the window, but until she comes back in to tell us what happened, I expect you to remain seated and calm in your desks." The students looked from him to the window, clearly wanting to stay and see was going on. It was not just Annaleah however, that was intimidated by the Professor. Most of the students looked at him with wide eyes and went back to their seats, despite intense interest in what was going on at the window.

  Professor Bainbridge turned to look at Annaleah, his eyebrow raised slightly and his lips tight, as if to ask her why she hadn't gone outside to investigate yet.

  Swallowing at the chastising expression, she made her way outside to see what had caused such a commotion.

  As she approached the window outside, she saw large, dark brown feathers lying strewn about in the grass, as well as a few still floating in the air. A brown, feathered form, still moving in the grass, sent out soft distress calls. Curious, and a still a bit startled, Annaleah removed her light summer jacket and moved slowly toward the injured creature.

  It was quite a large bird, with big, bright yellow eyes that blinked rapidly, and a hooked beak that was slightly open, panting. Large dark tufts of feathers topped its head like great, fluffy ears.

  When it turned its big yellow eyes in her direction, she recognized it as a great horned owl, stunned and frightened, trying frantically to get up, but too dazed and injured to do much more than move its head and one wing slightly. Annaleah continued to approach it slowly, so as not to frighten it more than it already was.

  "You poor dear," Annaleah said sadly, kneeling beside the owl. She expected it to do its best to fly away, or at least get as far from her as it could. Instead, it turned its head toward the sound of her voice, its large yellow eyes seeming to look straight into her very core. It ceased its distress cries and began to make an odd cooing sound.

  "That's right sweetie, I am not going to hurt you, it's okay. I’m going to try to help you." Annaleah wasn't sure why she was talking to the owl, knowing it could not possibly understand her, but still hoping that it would register the calm in her voice. She moved slowly and placed her summer jacket over the owl, amazed that it didn't seem scared or disturbed at her proximity or at her placing her jacket over it.

  "You sure are a beautiful bird," Annaleah crooned, gently tucking her garment around it. "I’m going to pick you up now, ever so gently, okay beautiful? I'm going to bring you inside and try to get you some help. Don't be afraid." Saying a quick prayer, and trying to imagine her hands filled with light, Annaleah picked up the bird, which squawked just a bit, but then settled down as she wrapped the rest of the jacket around its body. She held it softly, and looked down at the big, bright yellow eyes that looked back up into hers. She stood slowly, making her way to the classroom inside, the owl held gently before her, one arm under it and the other one on top of it, making sure it was secure but not held tightly enough to cause it more pain. As she walked into the classroom, several students gasped and she saw the Professor's expression darken considerably.

  "It's a great horned owl," Annaleah said. "I have no idea what it’s doing out during daylight hours, or what caused it to fly into the window, but it is hurt and it needs help." Almost at once, the students got up from their desks for a closer look at the injured animal. The sudden movement and the appearance of so many other people startled the bird, which began to struggle in Annaleah's arms.

  "Back to your seats immediately," the Professor said, looking angrily at Annaleah. This time, curiosity won out over intimidation, and with his students still trying to push closer for a look at the animal, he quickly ushered Annaleah out of the class, closing the door behind them once they stood in the hall. His dark eyes burned her.

  "What is the meaning of you bringing this animal into the classroom?" he demanded, "I sent you outside to see what was going on, not to make a mockery out of my class." The bird was starting to struggle in Annaleah's arms again, frightened by the professor's tone of voice. Seeing an injured animal struggling hurt her heart, and awakened something protective inside her. How could he get angry that she was trying to help a bird that so clearly had injured itself? How could he think his class and respect was more important than the welfare of another living creature?

  "With all due respect, sir, this bird needs help. I’m not trying to make a mockery of your class at all, but I can't, with a clear conscience, just leave this owl to suffer." Annaleah felt herself shaking again, weakened by something the Professor held behind his black eyes. Dark, smoldering eyes which seemed to wash over the deepest parts of her soul and see into her darkest secrets. It was absolutely unnatural the effect his eyes had. His eyes were purely hypnotic, and some of the most handsome she had ever seen. Even while still under his scrutiny, and still being shaken up at the turn of events, Annaleah found herself thinking of just how good looking he was. She was ashamed at the effect he had over her. Yet, strangely, it seemed more than just that, as if the tie to him was profoundly intrinsic and she was helpless to the pull of his masculine beauty. It was more than just his intensely fine looks, however. It was something mysterious and heady, something whimsical and confusing, but it was something she could no longer deny.

  The injured animal in her arms made a curious sound, its beak only slightly opened, as if it were sensing the intensity of the moment. This certainly was not the way Annaleah had wanted or intended to start off her first day of classes.

  The door opened behind the Professor and the girl dressed in black that had asked about witchcraft poked her head out the door. "Excuse me, I don't mean to interrupt," she said, "but my friend's mother, Mrs. Adams, teaches the Animal Husbandry class here at the University. I’m sure she would be willing to take care of the owl."

  Not waiting for the Professor to speak, Annaleah sent silent prayers of thanks to the Goddess, and walked quickly to the girl at the door. "Yes, thank you. That would be wonderful!"

  "Would that be alright, Professor Bainbridge?" the girl asked, exiting the class fully. The Professor closed his eyes, the corners of his mouth turning down and his lips tightening. Without speaking, he nodded slightly and gestured for them to go before stepping back into the classroom.

  "Don't mind Professor Bainbridge," the girl said, moving closer to Annaleah to look down at the owl. "He is the resident eccentric, dark, moody professor. You'll get used to him eventually. I have taken his class before and failed. He's a real hard ass. I need passing grades in his class though, so here I am again. My name is Rachael; it's nice to meet you. I would shake your hand Miss Grace, but I see your hands are busy holding the owl."

  “Oh, please call me Annaleah. Miss Grace sounds too formal,” Annaleah said as they began to make their way to the Animal Husbandry class. “At least, outside of the classroom. I have a feeling the Professor might have a problem with you calling me that in his class. What is his deal, anyway?”

  “Good question,” answered Rachael.” He is a very private person; no one really knows anything about him, so all we have is speculation and rumors. I do know it is not wise to get on his bad side though, or the entire year will be hell for you. Don’t kiss his ass either though.
He hates that too. He is an odd little bug, but he is kind of hot.” Rachael winked at Annaleah and snickered.

  “Yeah,” Annaleah said, starting to feel better, “if you like the menacing temperamental type.” They walked for a few moments in silence, crossing the campus to a smaller building.

  “So what do you think an owl is doing out during the day time?” Rachael asked, holding the door open for Annaleah. “And what made it fly into the window?”

  “I have no idea,” Annaleah answered. “I was wondering that myself. I do know that owls are considered a bad omen in some cultures though.” The bird made a noise of protest at this, almost as if it understood what Annaleah had just said. “In others, they are seen as birds of great wisdom and are not an omen of death, but a warning to hear the words in between the words being spoken and to discern the truth around you that’s trying to remain hidden.”

  “Aren’t they also considered messengers of departed loved ones as well? Rachael asked. Annaleah smiled, thrilled that Rachael knew so much about the spiritual meaning of owls.

  “Yes indeed, I’m impressed you know so much about owl lore.”

  Rachael smiled, “I’m into the Native American totem animals, animal medicine and such. I like a little light reading in my spare time.”

  “That’s wonderful, so what else do you know about owls?”