Snow. More snow. I shivered as I opened the window to allow fresh air into my tiny, shared room. Slug, the orange-furred menace, lifted his head from his food bowl and glared.

I laughed. “Cut it out, you giant flea-bag. It’s your fault it stinks in here.”

I took a closer look, assessing his bulk. “You know, you’re getting a bit chunky, all locked up inside. I’m going to have to feed you less.”

His blue eyes narrowed as he hissed, and his tail swished back and forth. I’d lost track of how often I wondered how much Slug understood. He was definitely smarter than the average cat. Like right now, there was no mistaking the irritation in his feline body-language. But hey, who knew what bugged him this time? Maybe he didn’t like his food, maybe I’d offended him by brushing my hand the wrong way through his fur, or maybe I was breathing too loudly.

“Wanna come play outside?” Grabbing my jacket, I held the door open for him. While I pulled on a pair of gloves and a knitted hat, Slug sauntered down the hallway towards the exit. I didn’t plan to be out long–a quick stroll around the square would have to do.

Outside, I inhaled deeply. Yikes, that burned. The air was icy cold. So close to the Canadian border, the temperatures dropped far lower than I was used to. A thick layer of white had transformed the U-shaped layout of the academy from a run-down structure to a winter wonderland. The administration and a few classrooms were housed in the main tract of the installation, with the student dormitories in the left wing and the bulk of the classrooms in the right wing.

In the middle of the campus, there were a group of single-room block houses which functioned as over-flow rooms. They were much newer than the original building—an indicator that the academy had had to accommodate many more students than originally anticipated.

Hardly anybody was here because they wanted to be. The school was not a jail exactly, but we couldn’t come and go as we pleased. There were miles of Oregon wilderness between us and the next town. Nobody was allowed cell phones, TVs, or computers. Yet despite that, or maybe because of it, the Farkas Academy for Magical Advancement had a reputation for teaching students who needed a second chance. Hence its nickname “Second Chance Academy.”

Two years ago, a magical reactor had exploded. The fallout had contaminated a population of non-magic users and caused random manifestations of powerful abilities. In my case, I accidentally killed a bunch of people as I walked home from school one afternoon. There was nothing I could have done to prevent the loss of life, but I’d still ended up here. The alternative offered to me was solitary confinement in an underground government facility until the day I died. So yeah, being here was definitely the better option.

That didn’t mean I wanted to be here. It was the winter break, and apart from a few hard-core cases like myself, most students had been allowed to go visit their families. I had no internet, and the library was closed. That left me with a few textbooks for the next term as entertainment.

“I’m so bored.” There was nobody there to listen to my grumbling. Kicking a rock ahead of me on the path, my thoughts wandered to my boyfriends. My boyfriends. Wow. One is a miracle, two is… I don’t even know what to call it. One more day. Then they’d be back, and… I sighed happily as I wrapped my arms around my body.

Leave it to the cat to pull me out of my pleasant daydream. I stumbled and flailed as Slug pushed against my shin. His heavy bulk nearly toppled me. I laughed and nudged him away with my foot. “Stop it. I know it’s cold. Let’s just walk across the green and back—”

A shout cut off my sentence. It came from behind the cabin at the far side of the central green.

“Hold him down, for fuck’s sake,” an angry voice snarled. Without hesitation, I ran toward the commotion. It wasn’t until Slug weaved between my legs that I came to my senses. Whatever’s going on, it sounds like several people.

I covered the remaining distance more cautiously, taking care my boots didn’t crunch on the snow. Using the cabin as cover, I carefully peeked around the corner. Just as quickly I pulled my head back, my heartbeat ratcheting up.

I recognized one of the men. Lawson was the guard who’d brought me to the academy last year. The one who’d dropped some nasty comments about people affected by the fallout. The group surrounded a student I knew.

A tall senior in his final year at the school, Matt was brilliant at fire magic. During the term finals, I’d watched in awe as he exploded a tiny flame into the equivalent of a flamethrower before pulling it back into his core without breaking a sweat. Total genius. Yet here he was, struggling between two large guys I’d never seen before. Another shout rang through the air and cut through my shock at the violent display.

“Stop fighting already,” the smaller of the men grunted. I stuck my head back around the corner, just in time to see Matt break away and make a run for it. Lawson held out his hand and pointed it after the young man. A spark hit his shoulders. My hand flew to cover my mouth to hold in a gasp of shock.

Matt twitched violently and fell to the ground. He never stopped twisting and flailing, and I watched his struggle with wide, shocked eyes. A pitiful noise made me look down. Slug was pressing his body against my leg, shaking all over.

He seemed terrified out of his mind, as if he knew what was going on. Maybe he smelled the poor kid’s pain and panic? I bent down to touch the cat’s body reassuringly. Shit, what if Slug gave away my position? Those guys couldn’t realize I’d seen the whole thing. Now was not the time for my pet to freak out. I pushed my hand on to his neck to keep him in place and stuck my head out again.

The men had picked up Matt, who wasn’t moving anymore. I hope he’s only unconscious. I forced myself not to think of the other possibility. One goon on either side, they dragged the student toward the main building, with Lawson bringing up the back. He looked left and right, as if to make sure there weren’t any witnesses.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

The men’s heads turned at the sound. A guy was rushing at them. I didn’t know where he came from, but I recognized the lanky shape. Lance. The boy who’d been an ass to me when I’d first gotten here. What the hell is he doing?

My heart was beating so hard, I was convinced they’d be able to hear me. Lance had reached the group and flung out his hands, palms open and pointed at the men. The two goons flew backwards as if kicked by a mule. Of course. He’s an air mage. He had to have hit them with a concentrated air column. Standing over them, his face grim, he looked like a superhero. All he needed was a cape.

Just then, Lawson stepped up behind him. I wanted to warn Lance, wanted to scream, “Watch out!” But that would have endangered me and the trembling furball under my hand. I could only stare.

Lawson touched a black object against Lance’s back. Lance stiffened, then his back bent like a tightened bow. When it looked like his spine might break, Lawson pulled his hand back, and Lance collapsed onto the snow-covered ground as if somebody had cut the strings off a marionette.

Tears were running down my cheeks as I fought to keep myself from sobbing out loud. I wanted to run over and make sure he was okay, but I couldn’t while the men were still there. Lawson touched the motionless body with his shoe, shaking his head. Then he gestured at his buddies to pick up the unconscious kid they’d dropped when Lance had attacked.

“Let’s go. We’re late.” They dragged Matt towards a black SUV waiting outside of the front building. The men bundled the body inside the car before getting in and driving off. I watched them disappear through the gates at the bottom. They were taking Matt away from the academy, and I was the only witness left standing.

Lance still hadn’t moved. I waited until the car was out of sight before sprinting toward the boy. When I got there, I fell to my knees. I didn’t care that the snow was soaking through the fabric of my jeans. Lance looked so pale that I took my glove off and felt for his pulse with trembling fingers.

Please, God. Don’t let him be dead. I couldn’t feel the heartbeat I was praying for. A constant chorus of, “Please, no,” ran through my mind.