Chapter 0010

Bergins sweeps inside the small room with a gush of air. His crimson eyes narrow when he spots me and I scrunch down farther in my seat, wrapping my arms around my middle. Why did he have to be a vampire? I'd rather have any other type of being for a teacher.

"Welcome to Magical History, for those new to our school and this community," he says in a baritone voice.

Even though he doesn't say my name, I know he's talking about me, and my face heats up.

A boy on the other side of me makes snapping noises with his teeth.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Sullivan?" The teacher turns to the board and starts writing down witches, vampires, werewolves, fae across the top.

"No, sir." He snickers.

One of the other guys behind him with purple hair throws a spitball at him.

"Cut it out, Mercier, unless you wanna end up with a bite out of your ass," he hisses.

"In your full-moon dreams." Mercier makes kisses faces at him.

I catch myself smiling. This isn't so different from my school. Kids are the same except that all of them could kill me in a different way if they wanted.

"Mercier and Sullivan, I can hear you." The professor scribbles dates under the types of paranormals he has on the board. "And I expect a term paper on the history of mermaids on my desk this Friday."

Both boys groan but the rest of the class sits up straighter as if they don't want to get on Mr. Bergins' bad side. What did they give vampires to drink here anyway? Blood bank? Let them hunt animals? People donating from a live vein?

"Ms. Sutton?" Mr. Bergins turns from the board and a wave of revulsion crashes into me at his direct stare. "Do you know when humans first discovered werewolves?"

"I-I don't know." My voice comes out scratchy. I try to remember an old werewolf movie, but I've no idea. "Nineteen hundreds?"

The class erupts in laughter.

"Hardly." He turns and writes Gilgamesh. "Here, we have the earliest recording in the written word of a werewolf. Gilgamesh spurned a lover because she had turned her mate into a wolf. Though some argue that werewolves are more ancient than 2,800 BC That of Greek mythology with the Legend of Lycaon."

I squirm in my chair, itching to open the textbook and take a peek. Greek myths had fascinated me last year, but I didn't recall this story.

Professor Bergins continues, "Legends says that Lycaon angered Zeus when he served him the remains of a sacrificed boy. Enraged, Zeus turned Lycaon and his sons into wolves."

Melanie raised her hand. Her pale cheeks turning pink. "What about Ancient Egypt and the werewolves?"

"Loser," a guy whispers, then said louder. "Everyone knows there were no wolves in Egypt, they were jackals."

"Untrue." The professor frowned at the boy who had the outburst. "It's believed there were Ethiopian wolves and even human scientist speculate that what the Egyptians thought of as jackals were actually golden, short-haired wolves, were actually closer related in their DNA to modern day wolves than jackals."

Melanie waves her hand and the professor gives her a nod. "Just because the Egyptians didn't have or understand DNA doesn't mean the werewolf myths aren't true."

"Very good, Ms. Blackwood." He writes Egypt on the board above Gilgamesh. "What can you tell me of that connection of werewolves in ancient times?"

"The god, Osiris, defended a city against an invading army, but a pack of wolves helped, saving the people despite lots of casualties." Melanie tapped her pencil on her textbook. "Osiris renamed the town Lycopolis which means wolf city and ordered the bodies of the fallen wolves to be mummified beneath the city for resurrection in the underworld."

"Got that from your necromancy class, right?" Mercier grunts.

"Doesn't matter where I learned it," Melanie shoots back. "All that matters is that I know it."

He rolls his eyes, but the Professor nods for her to continue.

"For the wolves who lived, Osiris granted them human form and the ability to shift back and forth. Hence, he named them lycanthropes."

"And the legend of the mummified werewolves?" Professor Bergins smiles. "I know you've learned this in your other classes, please share. Unless Mr. Sullivan would like to enlighten the class on his own species?"

Sullivan growls low in his throat, then clears it and looks away.

Melanie sets her pencil down. "Yes, legends says that on a full, blood moon, the descendants of the first Lycanthropes can call on their ancestors in the underworld to rejoin them on earth. The pack will run together for as long as the moon is full, living and undead."