Chapter 50: What Can You Do For Me?

Blair chewed nervously on the edge of her thumbnail.

She paced back and forth, her mind racing in a hundred different directions, until the click of the door latch echoed through the quiet room. Blair scrambled backward, dropping onto her wooden stool just as Professor Feron walked in.

He didn’t say a word. He walked to his desk, shrugging off his black jacket and laying it neatly over the back of his chair.

Blair swallowed hard, her pulse jumping as she watched him slowly roll his shirtsleeves up to his elbows. Under his scrutinizing, blood-red gaze, she opened her mouth to say something—anything—to break the stifling silence.

No words dared leave her lips.

She couldn’t look him in the eyes. Her gaze kept dropping to the exposed skin of his forearms. She was far too familiar with what lay hidden underneath that crisp button-down shirt. She couldn’t get the image of him out of her head; the tattoos, the lean muscle, the sheer size of him in just his boxers.

She felt dirty. She felt like an absolute pervert. And worse, he would never, ever know that she had seen him nude and taken compromising pictures of him. It was a secret she was going to have to take to her grave. She was deeply ashamed of herself, but... holding that kind of dangerous secret gave her a tiny thrill.

Is that bad? Blair wondered, her heart racing as a brilliant, burning flush crept up her neck and settled into her cheeks.

"What are you thinking about?" Jack asked, his voice cutting through the quiet.

"Nothing!" Blair blurted out instantly, jumping slightly on her stool. It felt like his eyes could see straight into her very mind.

Jack leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I do not usually do this," Jack said smoothly, his tone clinical. "But I will give you an opportunity to opt out of your punishment for being disobedient tonight."

Blair bit her bottom lip. She was scared of whatever game he was playing, but she couldn’t stop her defensive instincts. Despite her trembling hands, she spoke up. "I really only went to get help."

"A beastman can fall from fifty feet in the air and still not quite die, Miss Willows," Jack countered dryly. "A little human liquor cannot scathe a beastman. Someone with your academic prowess should know that."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed it across the room. It fluttered to the floor, landing right at her feet.

"I will give you three days to figure out what is written on that paper," Jack stated.

Blair nervously reached down, picking up the paper and unfolding it.

Her brow furrowed. The page was covered in random, scrambled letters. The jagged handwriting was rushed and erratic—obviously not his elegant cursive. Furthermore, the paper was dirty, stained with rust-colored spots that looked terrifyingly like dried blood.

"What is this?" Blair asked, holding it by the edges.

"That is none of your concern," Jack replied flatly. "You will either decipher it in three days, or you will receive a punishment of my liking."

His liking.

Blair really didn’t like the way he said that. Her overactive imagination instantly conjured up a horrifying montage of medieval torture methods. The rack. The iron maiden. Scrubbing pots for the Bear chef for the rest of her life.

"You are dismissed," Jack said.

Blair jumped, pulled from her terrifying thoughts. "Oh," she mumbled. She carefully folded the dirty paper and tucked it into the front pocket of her hoodie.

The clock ticked toward midnight as Blair walked to the exit.

She pushed the doors open. A blast of freezing, damp wind swept across her face. But it wasn’t just wind. Carried on the breeze were the chilling sounds of ominous whispers that might actually just be in her head..., but maybe not?

Blair panicked. She let the door swing right back shut, slamming right in her face.

She turned around, pressing her back against it. Jack was still leaning against his desk, watching her. Her wide, teary eyes communicated everything her mouth was too scared to say.

Jack pushed off the desk and began to walk toward her. Blair instinctively tried to step backward, but her spine was already pressed flat against the door.

"Do you think it is safer for you in here?" Jack asked, stopping just a few feet away. His tall frame cast a long shadow over her. "Have you gotten so cocky already to fear the darkness more than beasts?"

"I’m afraid of what is in the darkness," Blair responded quietly, her fingers gripping the hem of her hoodie. "You know what is out there. You saw it too. That monster."

"I am also a monster in your eyes, no?" Jack challenged smoothly, tilting his head. "What makes you fear me less?"

Blair gulped. She forced her chin up, finally meeting his piercing gaze. "You won’t hurt me."

Jack smirked. It was a dark, dangerous expression that Blair had never seen on his face before. "And why is that?"

"Because you saved me from that monster the last time," Blair said, her voice steadying. "You could have let it kill me if you wanted to."

The smirk instantly vanished from Jack’s face.

"It was more my curiosity regarding those things than a desire to save you," Jack corrected coldly.

Gathering every ounce of boldness she possessed, she decided to voice the crazy idea she had been harboring since she spotted him in Hookup Forest.

"Use me as bait," Blair proposed, looking him dead in the eye.

Jack fell silent.

"We can help each other," Blair pushed forward, her heart hammering. "You want to know more about them. I want to find my roommate."

Jack just stared at her. He looked at her small, trembling frame for a long moment before letting out a quiet breath.

"I despise you enough to intentionally have the monsters get you," Jack said.

Blair gulped. A shiver traveled straight up her spine, but she refused to back down. "I’ll find a way to survive."

Jack’s lips twitched, just slightly, at the corner.

"Tomorrow, then," Jack said. "Your detention will be in the woods."

Blair could hardly hold back the sudden wave of excitement and relief. "Thank you, sir."

Jack only hummed in response. He didn’t step back. He stepped closer, effectively trapping her against the door, his tall frame caging her in. He looked down at her, his red eyes burning with a sudden intensity.

"Now," Jack murmured, leaning in closer, sending Blair’s heart into a violent, hammering frenzy against her ribs. "For being your escort home tonight... what will you offer me?"

He leaned in another fraction of an inch, the scent of espresso and smoke wrapping around her.

"Humans," Jack whispered, "typically offer their body."