Vespertine

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Salvatore said gently, shaking his little sister awake. Quinn murmured and snuggled deeper into the couch, and then pried an eye open.

“Sal,” she muttered, smiling a little before her eye closed again. He shook her more vigorously, and she groaned, raising her head.

Salvatore looked exhausted, his clothes slightly dirty. “Come on, get up. You’re going to be late for school.”

Quinn made a face at that. “Who cares? School is useless.”

He yanked her up off the couch. “You’re going.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay, Dad.”

He sighed, collapsing on the couch beside her. “It’s important, Quinn. You’re gonna need to pass high school if you’re gonna go to college.”

“Who says I’m going to college?” Quinn asked, stretching. She pulled one of her arms behind her head, pressing down with the other arm.

Sal glanced at her critically. “Me. You might need the education someday.”

Quinn laughed, and then stopped when she realized he wasn’t joining in. She dropped her arms. “Wait, you’re serious?” She asked incredulously. “You know I’m never gonna get a good job, no matter how hard I work. I’m a mortal. And besides, you don’t have a job.”

“My job is taking care of you,” he responded. “And false. You can still get a good job, even if you’re mortal. Employers recognize intelligence, no matter mortal or magic. And you’re smart.”

Quinn glared. “I’m not going to college, Sal. I’m staying and I’m helping you, and the rebellion. By the time I’m “in college”, the world will have changed.”

Sal met her gaze steadily. “Yes, it will. When we’re done, the system will be broken, and we will build it again. The right way. But what about after that? We’re not going to just sit around and fight people forever. You need education. You’re going to have a have a job, someday, when this is all over.”

Quinn struggled to find a response, opening and closing her mouth several times before resorting to sulking. “But I don’t want to go to school.”

Sal sighed and patted her head. “Sorry, little sis. We all had to do it. Now it’s your turn to suffer.”

She groaned.

Quinn stuffed her hands in her pockets, realizing again how small her jacket had become. Nevertheless, she pulled it tighter, adjusting her backpack by shifting her shoulders. She walked up to the school, giving one last, longing glance at her bike chained to the rack. College, he says, she thought irritably as she entered the school and a blast of warm air came through the doors.

At least she would get to see Marissa. Marissa had made her way into the school a couple years back, as an English teacher, though she was probably no older than twenty. Rules in Aski were loose. Schools took what they could get, what with the massive outpouring of citizens.

She looked around for her friends. She didn’t have many, since she never had time to hang out with people, seeing as she was always training. But the ones she did have she was deeply fond of. Of course, they didn’t know what she spent her spare time doing. Nobody did.

Secrecy was key. Marissa had also come to the school to keep an eye on her, in case anyone ever found out who she was and attempted to get rid of her. Though sorcerers were few in Aski, there were enough to kill her if they so wanted.

She spotted Daniela, chatting with Hugo. She made her way over to them and lightly slugged Hugo in the shoulder. “You slacker. You never finished the group project.”

“You didn’t either,” he pointed out. “I think Dani is the one who should be mad.”

Daniela laughed and waved it off. “Well, not like I had much else to do.”

The warning bell rang, signaling that they had a minute to get to class. Hugo sighed. “There it is. Meet up for coffee after school?”

“6:00,” Quinn confirmed. “I’ve gotta go. I have English, and Mar— Miss Queens gets pissed if I’m late.” Damn. She’d almost called Marissa by her first name. It wouldn’t have been the first time, either. Sometimes she wondered if her friends just pretended to be oblivious, or if they actually never noticed that she seemed to know Marissa as more than just her English teacher.

Daniela sighed. She didn’t seem to catch Quinn’s fumble. “I’ve got calculus.”

Hugo grinned. “Gonna be a long day, isn’t it?” He then waved goodbye as he disappeared down the hallway next to the main one, Daniela beside him. Quinn headed towards English, realizing belatedly that it was all the way across the school.

As Quinn entered Marissa’s class, half a minute late, Marissa glanced at her critically over her glasses, which she wore as part of her teacher facade. Quinn thought they looked good as hell on her, and sometimes secretly lamented the fact that Marissa wasn’t actually nearsighted.

“Sorry,” she apologized, slipping into her seat.

Marissa smiled sweetly, in a way that suggested she was not about to be sweet at all. “Miss Vespertine. We’ve had a couple months together, now haven’t we? And how many times have you been present, on time?”

She turned to the board before Quinn could say anything, leaving the question hanging in the air. The answer was obvious by the titters that sounded around the classroom. Quinn fought to keep a smile off her face. Even after seeing Marissa as her teacher for a while, the idea of it still amused her to no end. She couldn’t tell if Marissa actually cared about the class, or if she got a kick out of acting like she did.

Maybe she hates me because I’m always late to her class, Quinn mused. She grinned as she watched Marissa write on the board, her long, wavy hair tucked in a tight bun today. She was fairly sure Marissa didn’t actually hate her. Fairly.

Salvatore watched Quinn hop up the steps, nimble if not enthusiastic. When he determined that she was in the building, definitively heading towards her first period, he sighed and turned away. It wouldn’t have been the first time she skipped class. She had only stopped when he made a habit of dragging her back. Literally.

Sal was at a loss. After all, he was a twenty-three year old guy. He didn’t know the first thing about raising teenage girls. He certainly never expected to have to school Quinn about going to college, or deal with her rebelliousness. At least she didn’t have a boyfriend.

Quinn was different from him. He never let it show, but sometimes she worried him. He remembered her as a little girl, all bright smiles, gentle love and adoration for her big brother. That last part hadn’t changed, but smiles had turned to smirks, and warmth had turned to bitterness. In all honesty, Salvatore just liked punching bags. But Quinn liked punching people. She wasn’t violent, exactly, but she was eager. Not to hurt, but to prove something. He worried because he was all she had. She thought he liked what he did, so she liked what he did. But she didn’t realize that he wasn’t a hero.

It was an ugly truth. But even if people didn’t know it yet, they were in a time of war. And war called for unsavory measures. And though Salvatore was fighting to make the world a better place for his people, at his core he was a killer, not a saint. A killer and a liar.

He stopped at a coffee shop, a regular one, not a hideout for rebels. He ordered a cappuccino and paid, checking his watch as he waited.

Someday, he mused, he wouldn’t be here for Quinn. There would be no one to watch her, rein her in. No one for her to model herself after. And what would happen then? She had been trained to be a soldier. An assassin, if need be. She was either a ticking time bomb, or a long-lit candle. It wouldn’t take much. A mission gone wrong, and he would be six feet under. At that point, Sal wasn’t sure what would happen. She would either explode, leaving devastation in her wake, or she’d be at the end of her road, and slowly die down.

Or perhaps he was underestimating her. Maybe she would prove to be something else entirely. He took a sip of his coffee. Whatever, he supposed. It would be a while before Quinn would have to deal with that. His missions may have become more dangerous recently, but he was Salvatore Vespertine. Dangerous just meant fun.