The Handsome Stranger's Startling Control

My heart thudded painfully against my ribs as I sat alone in the small interrogation room. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows across the gray walls. I'd been here for hours, left to stew in my own anxiety after Officer Ramsey had taken my initial statement.

"I barely touched her," I whispered to myself for the hundredth time, staring down at my trembling hands. How could I have sent Bianca flying across the hallway? It didn't make any sense.

My thoughts kept cycling through the same questions. Would I be expelled? Charged with assault? Would this destroy my scholarship—the one thing I'd worked so hard for?

The door finally opened, and Officer Ramsey stepped in. But this time, he wasn't alone.

The man who followed him made my breath catch in my throat. Tall, broad-shouldered, impeccably dressed in a charcoal gray suit that screamed money. His face was devastatingly handsome—sharp jawline, full lips, and piercing eyes that seemed to look straight through me. Power radiated from him, an almost tangible force that filled the small room.

I straightened instinctively, my body responding to his presence before my mind could catch up.

"Miss Thorne," Officer Ramsey said, "this is Mr. Vance."

Mr. Vance didn't offer his hand or even a smile. He simply picked up my file from the table and began flipping through it, his expression unreadable.

"Hazel Thorne," he said, his voice deep and smooth. "Eighteen years old. Criminology major. Full scholarship." His eyes flicked up to meet mine. "Quite the violent outburst for your first day, wouldn't you say?"

I swallowed hard, trying to mask my fear with defiance. "It wasn't like that. I didn't mean to hurt her."

"And yet, she ended up with a concussion." He closed my file with a snap. "Curious how someone your size could generate that much force."

"I don't know what happened," I said, hating how small my voice sounded. "It was like... something took over."

Mr. Vance's expression darkened. "Something? Or someone?"

I frowned, confused by his question. "What do you mean?"

He ignored me, turning to Officer Ramsey. "I'll take it from here."

Officer Ramsey nodded, looking relieved. "You're sure?"

"Quite sure. She fits the profile."

"What profile?" I demanded, panic rising in my chest. "What are you talking about?"

Neither man acknowledged my question. Officer Ramsey hesitated at the door. "Good luck, Miss Thorne," he said, then left, closing the door behind him.

I was alone with this intimidating stranger.

"Where's he going?" I asked, my voice rising. "Am I under arrest? Do I need a lawyer?"

Mr. Vance's mouth curved into a cold smile. "So many questions. But I'm afraid none of that matters anymore."

Ice slid down my spine. "What does that mean?"

"It means, Miss Thorne, that your life as you know it is over." He leaned forward, placing both hands on the table. "Where you're going, there are no lawyers, no police, no rights as you understand them."

Pure terror flooded my system. This man wasn't a cop or a lawyer—so who was he? A human trafficker? Was I about to disappear?

"You can't do this!" I stood up so quickly my chair toppled backward. "I have rights! I'm an American citizen!"

"Sit down," he commanded, his tone making it clear he expected immediate compliance.

I remained standing, though my legs felt like jelly. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"

His eyes flashed with something dangerous. "I am Headmaster Vance of Greys Academy, and what I want is irrelevant. What matters is what you are."

"What I am? I'm a college student who had a bad morning!"

"You're so much more than that, though you don't realize it yet." He straightened up. "It's time to go."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," I said, backing toward the corner of the room.

"Yes, you are," he replied calmly. "Either willingly or over my shoulder. Your choice."

The door opened again, and Officer Ramsey poked his head in. "Everything alright in here?"

"Fine," Mr. Vance replied without looking away from me. "Miss Thorne was just preparing to leave with me."

"No, I wasn't!" I cried, looking desperately at Officer Ramsey. "He's saying crazy things! He's not a cop or a lawyer! Please don't let him take me!"

Officer Ramsey looked uncomfortable but didn't move to help me. "It's for the best, Miss Thorne. Mr. Vance's institution specializes in... cases like yours."

"Cases like mine?" I repeated, feeling hysteria bubbling up. "I'm not a case! I'm a person! You can't just hand me over to some stranger!"

"That's exactly what they can do," Mr. Vance said coldly. "The paperwork has already been signed. You're in my custody now."

Officer Ramsey nodded awkwardly and left again, abandoning me to this terrifying man.

"This is kidnapping!" I shouted, even as tears started forming. "You can't do this!"

"Your options, Miss Thorne, are quite simple," Mr. Vance continued as if I hadn't spoken. "Come with me to Greys Academy, or spend the next several years in a prison cell for aggravated assault. Your choice."

My mind raced. Neither option seemed good, but prison terrified me more than this man. At least with him, there might be a chance to escape later.

"Fine," I whispered, defeated. "I'll go."

A flash of something like satisfaction crossed his face. "Wise choice."

He gestured for me to precede him out the door. I walked on shaky legs, hyperaware of his presence behind me. Down the hallway we went, past disinterested officers who didn't spare us a second glance. Were they all in on this? How could they just let me be taken?

We entered an elevator at the end of the corridor. As the doors closed, trapping me with him in the small space, panic clawed at my throat.

"You're having another panic attack," he observed dispassionately.

"Wow, thanks for noticing," I snapped, desperate to hide my fear behind anger. "A PhD in obvious, do you have?"

To my surprise, his lips twitched slightly upward. "There's that spirit. You'll need it where we're going."

The elevator doors slid shut with ominous finality. Mr. Vance turned to face me fully.

"My name is Kaelen Vance," he said, suddenly much closer than before. "Remember it well, because from this moment forward, your life is in my hands."

Before I could respond, he reached out and brushed his fingers against my cheek. The touch sent an electric current through my body, shocking and intimate. I froze, caught between fear and a strange, unwelcome attraction.

His eyes locked with mine, and then—impossibly—they began to glow an unearthly blue.

His hand moved from my cheek to grip my chin firmly, holding me in place. "Sleep," he commanded, his voice resonating with unnatural power.

My consciousness immediately began to fade, darkness creeping in from the edges of my vision. The last thing I saw was those glowing blue eyes, watching me as I collapsed into his waiting arms.