by Maya Daniels
My passing gaze sweeps the space before landing on the usual spot we call our own. I know Fenrir, Azgor, and Leo are there, but my focus stays on the pair of blue eyes that hold me hostage no matter where I am. Casually leaning on the arm of his chair, Zoltan tracks me like the predator that he is. My entire body comes alive.
“It’s all her fucking fault.” The not-too-quiet growl reaches my ears when we pass a table with two males sitting alone. The one shooting daggers at me through his eyes is the one that has spoke, I guess.
“People were dying in Sienna before I stepped foot here, asshole.” Clenching my fist, I stop, looming over him. “Your portals were being attacked, as well. How exactly is it my fault? Or do you have no one else to blame?”
His eyes widen. Apparently, he didn’t expect me to reply. The color in them swirls, his animal rearing its head up, reacting to the aggression in my voice. With his bulky frame, my guess is he’s a feline shifter.
“Let’s go, Franky.” Astara pulls me by the arm, and I let her lead me away.
The hush is thicker now.
I’m surprised that the males are still in their seats, watching but not interfering. They haven’t moved a muscle, looking as relaxed as they can be. My heart is beating a staccato in my chest, and I wipe my sweaty palms on my thighs as subtly as I can. Zoltan locks his gaze on the movement. Nothing escapes him.
“Food!” Astara rushes when we near them, grabbing a plate and bouncing next to Fenrir on the sofa.
“She is starving.” My explanation is met with silence and more staring. “Annddd, here we are.” Lowering on the chair they left empty for me, I reach for my own plate so I can avoid their gazes.
“You should’ve said something.” Astara talks over a mouthful of pastry at Zoltan.
“She handled it.” I feel his eyes boring into the top of my head while I stare at the food on my plate.
“Yes,” Fenrir snorts ungracefully. “Just like she handles everything else. Like an elephant in a glass house.” My head snaps up, and he grins at me.
“Ms. Drake has … her talents,” Azgor pipes in helpfully.
I glare at him.
“Can we not talk about me right now?” Waving a hand to encompass the room, I frown at all of them. “I would think we have more important things to talk about.”
“Yes, we do.” The Fae sniffs, the arrogant ass. “Let’s hear what Soren said. He hasn’t spoken to the Board at all, even when they told him about the killings.”
“He already knew about that?” Pushing the words through clenched teeth, the plate cracks under my grip when I imagine it’s Soren’s neck I’m squeezing. “I really should’ve stabbed him.”
Azgor sucks in a sharp breath, looking petrified.
“I didn’t.” Drawling at his reaction, I can’t hold back the grimace I make.
Zoltan’s lips quirk at the corners.
“Francesca.” The reprimand in Fenrir’s voice is enough to make me deflate.
“It took some doing, but he did wake up.” Blowing out a breath, I sag in the chair, placing the cracked plate on my thighs. I look at Zoltan. “He said the shadows that are attacking the people in Sienna sound like one of the old gods, but that none have gone through the portals.”
“Impossible.” Azgor almost jumps from where he is sitting. The tension in the air presses on my shoulders, pushing me deeper in the chair. “There must be a mistake.”
“Well, possible or not, that’s what he said. I also told him that I know what I saw.” My knee starts bouncing, jostling the plate in my lap, so I move it on the table. “The answer I got was: magic can be powerful in the hands of those who know how to wield it. Bringing us back to the mages.”
A look passes between Fenrir and Zoltan.
“Well, do share with the rest of us.” Nails digging in the armrests, I wiggle in the chair. “That’s why we’re here.”
“There is a possibility that Cassius is behind the potion the hunters are using.” Fenrir sounds pained to admit it. “A couple of old tomes are missing from the library. All with spells and potions that haven’t been used for centuries.”
“You have shit like that just sitting around here for anyone to take?” My jaw unhinges at that information, and I gape at them. “Really?”
“Cassius was not everyone.” The ghoul sounds insulted. “Not everyone has access to everything.”
“Obviously.” My voice is so dry I see dust coming out of my mouth.
“We are getting off track,” Leo finally speaks, leaning his forearms on his spread-out thighs. “What else did Soren say?”
“I asked about the killings of the guards and students.” Pursing my lips, I flick my gaze at all of them. “After giving me a lecture that there are always those that want to attack the Academy, he gave me a riddle. The answer is always in the blood.” I watch them all like a hawk, hoping for a reaction. They all stare blankly back. “And it has nothing to do with family.”
“You think Franky is onto something with this hunter looking like Cassius’s daughter?” Astara turns to her brother, a line forming between her eyebrows.
“Could be.” Zoltan looks thoughtful.
“That’s not exactly nothing to do with family.” Pointing out the obvious, I place a hand on top of my knee to stop it from bouncing. “It’s the opposite.”
“We’ve been keeping an eye on her since we got back,” Leo growls in frustration, and my heart sinks. “She hasn’t moved from her room, apart from a couple of classes and the library.”
“The same library that has books with shit that can kill us?” My voice sounds accusing, but I don’t care. Protecting their egos is not my problem.
“She took history books.” Leo’s words are emotionless.
“So, we are back to square one.” Huffing a breath, I grab my hair in both hands. “There must be something we are missing. There must be.” I look at them with desperation.
“We will find them, Franky.” Astara makes an effort to sound convincing but fails. She looks as desperate as I do.
“I guess I wasn’t invited to this get together. I’m insulted,” a deep voice like rolling rocks down a hill says from behind me.
I whirl around, almost falling off the chair to stare at Alex. Standing right behind my chair, in black leather from head to toe, he looms over me. His lips are lifted in a smile, but those eyes watch me like he can see through me. My skin pebbles, a shiver crawling up my spine at something I can’t name. His power barely touches mine, like he is holding back so no one can notice what he is doing.
“Alex.” Zoltan’s voice can cut through stone. “Come join us.”
“Why, thank you,” Walking around, he plops down next to Azgor, his knee grazing mine when he sits. “I would love to.”
Azgor says something I don’t hear. The others join in the conversation, but everything is just white noise floating past my ears. Astara gives me a strange look, but I ignore her, focusing on Alex like he will disappear if I blink. I watch him talk about something, his head tilting back when he laughs.
“When did you come here?” My question is barely air passing my lips, but all conversation stops like someone presses mute on the remote control.
“Should I have asked permission to visit my Academy, Ms. Drake?” he says mockingly, arching an eyebrow at me.
“When”—Stretching the words slowly in case he is dumb to understand them, I lean forward—“did you come here?”
“Shortly after you left,” Azgor rushes to answer, leaving Alex with his mouth open and a frustrated look on his face.
“While we were fighting hunters in your building, you came here?” The magic in my chest stirs at the look flashing in his eyes.
“You brought hunters to my door. Roberti is hell bent on getting his hands on you.” Alex’s face twists in a rage-filled mask. “You will forgive me for coming to check on my mate, half blood.”
“When did the killings happen?” Ignoring the insult, I turn to the ghoul.
Something Alex said nags at me, but I find my question more important. My eyes flick to Azgor, who is watching me with eyes so wide they’re about to pop out of his skull and roll on the table. His head swivels from me to Alex.
“Shortly after you left for the human world.” The ghoul gulps, and power slams into me from Zoltan and Fenrir like a truck.
“Around the time he came?” My body stiffens, preparing for the fight that’s coming. I can feel it in my bones.
“I-I sup-I suppose,” Azgor stutters and all hell breaks loose.
Everyone jumps just a second too late. Something prickles my thigh, and all the strength leaves my body, making me slump in the chair. I see Alex dropping the syringe from his hand, grabbing me at the same time. Everything blurs when I’m thrown over a shoulder, the bone digging in my stomach while Alex runs out of the dining hall faster than anyone I’ve ever seen. Zoltan’s rage-filled roar shatters the windows we are passing, shards of glass sinking in my skin like tiny needles. Alex stumbles when a loud boom rocks the ground under his feet, the earsplitting veils of a siren making my eyes cross in pain.
The portal.
We are being attacked right now while I flop uselessly over this asshole’s shoulder, and there is nothing I can do. There is no mistaking the warning when the portal is under attack, the blood dripping from my ears reminding me of my first day here. Only this time, it’s not Zoltan carrying me around gently in his arms.
This time a killer has me in his clutches.
The vibrations on my thighs where he holds them pressed to his chest tell me he is saying something. Cursing me to hell probably. I can feel Zoltan getting closer, and that gives me some relief. Not that he will save me. I have no idea what Alex had in that syringe, but whatever it is, it’s burning through my veins so painfully I can’t even summon the strength to scream. But Zoltan will kill the fucker. I have no doubt about that.
I know the exact moment Alex is outside of the Academy building. My blood drips and splatters on the soil, the magic of this place, that ancient monstrosity that is a part of me now surges up, answering the call of the pulse in my chest. I’m thrown on the ground not far from the portal when the earth shutters violently, sending Alex sprawling on the opposite side.
I can see his ugly, twisted face turning my way through the strands of hair falling all over my face. I grin. Or I try to anyway, and his scowl deepens. Pounding footsteps echo under my ear that’s pressed in the soil, the loudest of them all, like the hill itself is rushing to my aid, are Zoltan’s. I know it’s him by the way the weight of his body is placed on the balls of his feet. Who knew I paid that much attention to the vampire?
Alex yanks me up like a lifeless puppet by the arm. My legs scrape the ground from the knee down, the tips of my boots bumping every tiny rock littering the floor. He drags me towards the swirling portal, my head rolling on my shoulders.
Another pulse of the ancient magic hits me at the center of my chest, my body convulsing like someone sticks a high voltage wire in my heart. Alex is thrown away from me, the blast sending his feet inside the portal while his body is stretched on our side. Just as the sky opens and a torrent of rain pours on us like from an open faucet, Zoltan’s boots stop in my vision. Raindrops jump and dance on top of his boots, reminding me of fairies dancing, just like the first time I saw him.
White boots step out through the portal.
23
Fenrir joins Zoltan, both of them standing with their legs spread shoulder-width apart like a living shield in front of me. My body is still convulsing, flopping like a fish out of water. Astara drops on her knees next to me, giving a futile attempt to help me. She is thrown away, as well. I keep my terrified gaze on the portal as one by one hunters pass through it, spreading out like a virus through these lands. The magic in the ground is rebelling from it.
Shifter and demon guards rush to help, spreading like the sea to block further access. The feeling in my body slowly returns, and along with it comes the sound. Shouts and roars split the night, even the moon hanging low in the sky pulsing in anger. They shouldn’t be here. With shaking fingers, I lift on my hands and knees, still trembling from the shocks of magic cursing through my veins.
“How is this for magic, Soren.” My numb lips tingle as they graze the dirt under my palms.
“Francesca?” Zoltan’s voice is part worry, part question.
“Hellion, you okay?” Fenrir pirouettes in front of me, catching a dagger in the air and sending it back to where it came from. His hair flies around his head, exposing his pointed ears.
He should show those ears more often, I think in my delirium, racked with pain.
“I’m great, Fae.” Grinding my teeth, I’m finally able to sit up on my knees. “How are you this evening?”
“She’ll be fine,” he tells Zoltan like the vampire can’t hear me. “If she can be a smartass, she is fine.”
Zoltan crouches in front of me, pushing the hair sticking to my face behind my ears. His thumb rubs off the blood that is dripping there, glaring at it like the drops of blood are at fault for daring to come out of my body. A crazed laugh shakes my shoulders, making him look at my face. All around us people are fighting.
“Sorry I was bleeding.” Chuckling, I push his hands away. “It won’t happen again.”
“It better not, Ms. Drake.” He smirks, taking the sting out of calling me that.
“How is this possible?” The humor drains out of me. “I thought they couldn’t get through the portals.”
“They shouldn’t be able to.” Zoltan turns his head, his gaze locking on something to my right. “Unless someone gave them access.”
Following his line of sight, I see Alex fighting a shifter, his large hands gripping the puma and ripping the head off. Blood sprays in an arch in the air like a thrown bucket of paint. My stomach clenches when the shifter’s body drops on the ground.
“He knows how to break the wards?” Rubbing the back of my hand, I try to wipe the blood I can feel wetting my upper lip.
Zoltan takes that hand, his thumb smearing the blood. “He knew he needed a dragon blood to pass through.”
“He set us up.” Remembering that I bled all over his building, I want to scream. “We should’ve known as soon as he mentioned Roberti.”
“He was always treading a thin line, but never like this,” Fenrir growls, still twisting and turning to protect us. “Unless …”
“Unless what?” I finally stand up, feeling that I’m not about to topple over. Zoltan hovers his arm just in case, and I slap it away.
“Unless they want to tear the portal exposing Sienna to the human world.” The Fae grunts, punching a hunter that has the dumb idea to get close enough.
“It’ll be a slaughter”—Fear claws like sharp talons at my chest—“on both sides.”
“I think that’s the idea.” Zoltan grinds his teeth so hard I can hear them in my head like nails on a chalkboard.
I release the hold I have on the pulsing magic inside me, seeing the bright swirling colors of the darkness coming to life between one blink and the next. I know my eyes have changed as well because the thin veins under Zoltan’s skin branch out like small rivers over his features. He is still breathtaking.
“Let’s go kick their ass.” Fenrir startles, giving me a strange look over his shoulder. “A perk for being a freak.” I wave my hand around my face in explanation.
With a sharp nod, Zoltan is gone, disappearing in the throngs of people fighting. With one last look at Fenrir’s back, I turn on my heel, heading for the first hunter I see. The idiots are dressed all in white, quickly picked. They should rethink their dress policy, I think, but who am I to complain? They make my job easy.
My feet barely touch the ground as I sprint, jumping and twisting midair at the hunter. His eyes bulge out of his face a second before I twist his head, ripping it off. The demon that is fighting him grunts in acknowledgment before running to find another opponent. I weave through it all, kicking, punching an
d ripping throats, blood dripping down my chin and soaking my shirt. I just had a shower. The thought makes me laugh. Maybe I am insane.
I see Leo—his wolf towering over everyone else—being cornered by three hunters, their short swords hacking the air around his legs. The shifter is nimble for such a large animal, his paws dancing out of the way just in time. Saliva is dripping from his deadly-sharp jaws. Turning his way, I plow through two of the hunters, sending them face first on the forest floor. Grabbing one by the hair, I yank his head back, the crunch of his neck braking grating my teeth. Leo swoops in, ripping his throat.
Spinning around, I throw the head I’m clutching by the hair at the hunter that remains standing. It hits him at the center of his chest, the blood splattering over his white shirt. The last thing he sees is fangs poking under my upper lip when I grin at him, ripping his neck open. He drops at my feet.
A pull has me turning my head, my gaze finding Zoltan. He is far from me, but I see him clearly, carving a way through wave after wave of hunters. There is a low wall around him made of dead bodies, their number growing with each move of his arms. Face set in determination, he looks like a dark angel claiming death as his due.
A pained roar jerks my head behind me. I see the shifter from the dining hall—the one blaming me for all this—clutching his abdomen, stumbling away from two hunters. They move fast, but not as quickly as me. I’m before them with the shifter at my back between one breath and the next. Both of them stop their advance, spreading wider apart from each other. Long, silver blades glint in the moonlight when they twirl them around, looking for an opening.
“Oh, how sweet. You brought big pointy sticks.” I grin at them, and they take a step back. “I’m already scared.”
The hunter on my right swings at me, his sword raising high and coming down in an arch at my head. Bending back, I watch the silver weapon pass in front of my eyes, not even an inch from my nose. My skin prickles from the air being cut so close. Coming back up, I spin, kicking him in his gut and sending him flying back into the trees. His body hits with a sickening crunch, dropping on the floor and not getting back up.
