Tarot Academy 1: Spells of Iron and Bone

by Sarah Piper

  “Make it harder on me?” I press my lips together to keep from smiling.

  “Right.”

  “Shit, Baz, if you don’t jump on this innuendo, I will.”

  “Hey!” He cracks up. “Don’t encourage me!”

  “From the way things felt before, I don’t think you need much encouragement.”

  “Not where you’re concerned, apparently.” His gaze sweeps down to take in my outfit—sports bra, leggings, climbing shoes. That about sums it up.

  Heat rises inside me, my body still clinging to the memory of straddling him in class. To the vision in the meadow last night, when the only fire we had to contend with was the one between us.

  Us. Me and Baz. I know now that it was him, my mysterious lover. That we connected somehow, probably when our lips touched after he pulled me from the river. For me, it was through the Devil card. For him, through the Star.

  I don’t know what it means. Whether I can control it. Whether it’s the same thing that’s happening with Dr. Devane and the vision at the ocean.

  But I can’t pretend I don’t feel something. Some deep, primal attraction, especially where Baz is concerned.

  “Apology accepted.” I jab a finger into his chest, anything to break the tension roiling between us. “But don’t think that’s carte blanche for future indiscretions. And also… I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have snapped at you after Divination.”

  “I like you snappy.” He wraps his hand around mine, presses it against his chest. His heart is beating wildly, and for a minute I feel myself drifting back to our meadow…

  “So why the fuck does this asshole rock keep throwing you down?” he asks, breaking the vision before it can take hold. “You need me to kick its ass?”

  “If only it were that easy.” I point to the overhang about fifteen feet up. “See that lip up there?”

  He steps closer to take a look, crowding right into my space, still holding my hand.

  “I can’t seem to make it over the top,” I say. “And I don’t want to go higher without a belay. This rock isn’t bolted, and I’m not familiar enough with it to go too far up on my own.”

  “You want some help?”

  He’s totally serious. But he’s also still holding my hand, and when he looks down at me with those devilish eyes, the very last of my self-control marches away.

  Okay, straight talk. I have a personal rule, enacted soon after I came out of the post-tragedy haze and started going out on occasional dates again.

  No sex with anyone I actually like, or can see myself liking in the future. Nothing that could possibly lead to romantic entanglements, falling in love, heartbreak. I can’t deal with a major loss—not again.

  It’s the one thing that always made me keep a little distance from Kirin back in Tres Búhos, as much as Jessa liked to tease me about hooking up with him.

  I like Kirin—I have for a long time now. That automatically makes him a bad candidate, because if circumstances were different, I could put myself right on the path to heartbreak.

  But Baz?

  He’s impossibly sexy, strong, mysterious… and he should totally come with a warning label. I’ve only known him a few days, but already he drives me crazy at the best of times. If we were in a relationship, I’m 99% sure one of us would end up looking for an alibi and a place to hide the body, probably sooner rather than later.

  So that makes Baz a pretty safe bet for a little fun.

  No chance of a relationship. No chance of getting hurt when that relationship comes to its inevitable end.

  So maybe that’s why I squeeze his hand now, close the last of the space between us, and look at him with a smile that can only be interpreted in one way.

  “Um, Stevie?” he asks. “I don’t want to make assumptions, but—”

  “But in this case you’re totally right, and if you don’t kiss me right now I swear I’m going to—”

  Baz grabs the back of my head, claiming my mouth in a fiercely possessive kiss I feel all the way down in the bones of my bones. He backs me up until my shoulders hit the rock, staking his claim with every delicious stroke of his tongue, every soft moan he unleashes from my lips. His scent invades my senses—smokey and earthy, a hint of black pepper, sexy and masculine.

  Just when I’m certain I’m about to pass out from lack of oxygen, he breaks our kiss and spins me around, pinning me against the rock from behind, pressing his body against mine as he devours my neck with kisses, trailing his lips down to my shoulder and back again, his hand sliding across the front of my waist, slipping down behind my waistband.

  “We good?” he whispers in my ear, his breath hot.

  “So good.”

  Baz groans in response, his fingers sliding deeper, seeking my wet heat. He teases my clit, making slow circles, then dipping lower, his teeth grazing my earlobe, his fingers slipping inside me, then pulling out, teasing over my clit again, and holy hell my legs are already starting to tremble…

  I want him. All of him. No more teasing and touching. I need to feel him inside me. Now.

  “Wait!” I cry out.

  He stops immediately, and I turn around to face him, panting from his touch.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I nod emphatically. “But if we’re going to do this, we need some ground rules.”

  He blinks at me, a little shellshocked, then smiles.

  “So you’re not just a pain in the ass, but a high maintenance pain in the ass?” His tone is light and teasing, even as his cock presses urgently against his jeans. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “I just mean this has to be a one-time thing. One and done.” I put a hand on his chest, still trying to catch my breath. His heart is thudding as hard and fast as mine. “And we never speak of it again—not to each other, and absolutely not to anyone else.”

  He lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug, but I can feel his energy—he doesn’t like the idea. Which part of it specifically, I’m not sure. But he doesn’t like it.

  “Fine by me,” he says anyway.

  “That’s all you have to say about it? Fine by me?”

  “Nothing else to say.”

  “Okay, well you’re definitely not the most romantic man I’ve ever met.”

  “No.” The smile is back, brighter than ever, his eyes glinting with mischief. “But I can pretty much guarantee you’ll be screaming my name soon.”

  I return his devilish grin. “Because you’re going to torture me?”

  “Oh, you can bet on it.” He puts his hands against the rock, caging me inside his arms. He’s so close I can see the facets of the rock reflected in his eyes, as hard and wild as he is.

  When I don’t respond, he tilts his head, sizing me up. The cockiness fades from his gaze for just a moment, and he lowers his voice, as if the rocks are listening in and he doesn’t want to be overheard. “You like playing with fire, Little Bird.”

  I want to tell him no, I don’t. Not with guys. Not ever. Dangerous boys and me don’t mix. Mages especially. But something about this place, about my visions, about him… Goddess, there’s a wildness that calls to something deep inside me, an animal begging to be let out of her cage after years of captivity.

  And no one brings out the wild girl in me like Baz.

  “I’m not the gentle, cuddle-for-hours-afterward type,” he says. “You should probably know that going in.”

  “You make it sound like you’re a—”

  “Yes. Whatever you’re thinking?” His eyes go fiery hot, and he wraps a hand around my throat, squeezing just enough to get my attention. There’s no more teasing now, only heat. Only passion. Only a promise my core is begging him to keep. Brushing a thumb across my lips, he whispers, “That’s exactly what I am, and you’d do well to remember it.”

  Holy shit, I’m so wet for him, my clit is already throbbing with every heartbeat, my nipples straining uncomfortably against the fabric of my sports bra, my whole body on fire for his hands, his mouth, his cock.

&n
bsp; I force out a laugh, but instead of the cool nonchalance I’m going for, it comes out wobbly and faint. “Um… Am I going to need a safe word for this?”

  Baz, unfazed as ever, slides his hand down my backside and grips my thigh, hitching my leg up around his hip. The thick length of his cock presses against my center, and I let out an involuntary gasp.

  Back in the classroom, I thought I’d gotten his… ahem… full attention.

  Clearly, he was holding back before.

  The bastard is seriously packing, and now he wants me to know it.

  I hate that my body wants him so badly. Needs him so badly.

  “Safe word?” His molten gaze sweeps down to my mouth, and he leans in close, the rasp of his breath teasing my lips with a gentle caress that belies his bruising grip on my thigh. “It’s cute that you think you’ll still be able to form words while I’m fucking you.”

  Something escapes my mouth—a squeak? A protest? A prayer? I’ll never know, because in that instant, Baz claims me with another kiss even more possessive than the first, plumbing my depths, demanding access I’m all too eager to grant him.

  He’s all darkness and shadow, rage and pain, each emotion hitting me with a wave that threatens to pull me under.

  But it seems he’s also a man of his word, because as much as I want to put an end to this—as much as I know I’m making a terrible mistake—I can’t force my lips to form a single word. Instead, I find myself breaking away just long enough to tear off my sports bra.

  Baz moans and palms my naked breasts, then lowers his mouth to my nipple, grazing it with his teeth as he sucks and teases…

  “Last chance, Little Bird,” he says, then moves to the other nipple, flicking it with his tongue as his hand slides down the front of my leggings, seeking my wet heat once again. “You want to change your mind? Now’s the time.”

  “No,” I say, fisting his hair and arching my hips to get closer, to take his fingers in deeper. “I want you to touch me. To—”

  “And here’s a wildlife mating ritual you don’t see every day, kids!”

  Baz and I break apart in a heartbeat, whipping around to see Emory standing before us, straddling a bike. She’s smirking at us, holding out her phone like she’s the paparazzi and we’re the celeb snap of the century.

  “For fuck’s sake, Emory.” Baz jumps in front of me to block her view. “Don’t be a dickhead.”

  “I’m not the one whoring around the whole Academy,” she says.

  “It’s none of your business how I spend my lunch hour, who I spend it with, or what I spend it doing. Now hop back on that bike and fuck off somewhere else, preferably far, far away from me.”

  She flashes a glittery smile, then turns it on me. “I wasn’t talking about you, Baz.”

  Seriously?

  Why is it that the girls who refuse to move on from middle school only keep the worst parts of middle school? Why can’t they ditch the backstabbing, name-calling, mind-game-playing bullshit and just, like, draw doodle-hearts in their notebooks and have crushes on boy bands and argue over the best-scented body lotion?

  Emory holds up her phone again, snaps another shot. “Carly’s going to love this. Maybe Trello will put it on the student website, too. Right on the home page.”

  Shirtlessness be damned. I’m about to launch myself at her, give her a real photo opp, but by the time I work up my nerve, she’s already pedaling away, zooming back down the path the way she came.

  “Fuck.” Baz drags a hand through his hair. “I should probably go run interference. I need to get that phone.”

  “Do you really think she’ll send stuff to Trello?”

  “Trello? No. But she’s got photos of you, Stevie. Of us. And as beautiful and spectacular as you are…” Baz grins. As if to prove his point, he lowers his mouth, blazing a trail of kisses across the top of each breast, thumbs stroking my nipples, making me ache for him once again.

  But then he sighs and says, “You said you didn’t want anyone to know about this. And even if you did, I can’t imagine you’d want them finding out from Emory and her damn homemade porno.”

  I lean back against the rock and sigh, crossing my arms over my chest. “No, I wouldn’t.”

  Baz crouches down and grabs my sports bra, hands it back to me. “Look, I don’t want to leave you. Are you fucking insane? But if I don’t go, not only are those pictures fair game, but she’s gonna ride back here with Carly and the rest of them in tow, and make a big fucking scene, and I really don’t want you caught up in all that bullshit.”

  “You sure about that?” I yank the bra over my head, get the girls situated again. “Maybe it’s you you don’t want caught up in it.”

  His eyes flare, his energy smacking me hard. I hurt him with that comment.

  “Sorry. Shit, I’m sorry.” I blow out a breath and lower my eyes. “I know you’re looking out for me. I just don’t think there’s much point. She’s probably halfway to the dorms by now.”

  Baz smiles. “Good thing your boy knows how to teleport.”

  Despite the disappointment that our happy little afternoon delight got shat upon by one of Carly’s bobbleheads, I can’t help but agree.

  “Hey.” He leans in close, cradles the back of my head, and brushes his lips across my mouth in a kiss so tender, I can’t believe it’s from Baz. Then, with one more flash of that deadly smirk, “To be continued, Little Bird.”

  I return his devious smile.

  On behalf of myself, my aching nipples, and my throbbing core…

  You can fucking bet on it, Baz Redgrave.

  Thirty-Five

  STEVIE

  I keep telling myself it’s for the best. That Emory actually did me a huge favor by interrupting us before things got totally out of control.

  But I’m completely full of shit.

  I wanted him. I still want him.

  See, this is why I have rules in the first place.

  Shaking off the funk, I grab my daypack and head to a nearby boulder—one that isn’t so keen on showing me who’s boss—and haul myself up to the top, finding a nice flat spot to plunk my ass down and enjoy a chocolate-covered granola bar. Not as good as sex with Baz would’ve been, perhaps, but it satisfies a need in its own right.

  After the snack, I take out my phone, snap a selfie for Jessa.

  Getting my rocks off in the Forest of Iron & Bone, I text. Wish u were here.

  Bitch, why are you so hot? she replies. BTW, your boyfriend says… Hey girl! Miss your fine ass… literally!

  I’m about to ask her who she thinks my boyfriend is when her pic comes through.

  I laugh like a damn machine gun, so obnoxiously loud I’m pretty sure I scare all the rattlers out of their hidey-holes.

  It’s Mr. Winky, propped up next to a potted cactus on the window sill of my old bedroom.

  Goddess, I miss that place.

  I miss Jessa. Her balls-out sense of humor, her smile, her hugs. All of it.

  Still laughing, I reply, OMG, you found him!

  Yeah, and you’re lucky I love you, or else that could’ve ended badly for both of us.

  Love you too, I text. BTW, he’s single now if you want your shot!

  She sends me the pondering emoji, then a string of laughing-crying emojis. Girl, don’t tempt me.

  I send back the eggplant emoji, followed by the cactus. Just don’t mix them up, b/c good luck explaining THAT at the ER!

  You are terrible and beautiful and I love you the mostest. Gotta finish packing, and no that’s not a euphemism. Call me soon!

  I send her a kissy-face, then put my phone away, lying back against the sun-warmed rock to watch the clouds drift by. I guess I pass out at some point, because when I open my eyes again, the light has changed, the air a few degrees cooler.

  I blink the sleep from my eyes and rub my bare arms, trying to rally. I should probably head back to my suite and take a shower, get some sleep in an actual bed.

  As soon as I sit up, the air around me
wavers, the sky flickering ominously.

  It doesn’t feel like a storm, though.

  It feels like a glitch in the matrix.

  The breeze stills. The petrified forest, normally alive with the rustling of sagebrush and the chittering of birds and insects and reptiles, goes completely, eerily, impossibly silent.

  No animals or birds. No students on bikes along the pathways. No shouts or laughter in the distance.

  I can’t even hear my own breath.

  I get to my feet on top of the boulder and peer down the path, past the rock I was climbing earlier, back in the direction toward the dorms. Suddenly my vision sharpens, zooming in close.

  The dorms loom in the background, the pathways packed with panicked students and faculty, everyone fleeing some unknown nemesis.

  “What the fuck?” I gasp. Then, behind the running masses, the source of their fear emerges from the chaos.

  Mages and witches with yellow glowing eyes, their skin gray and lifeless, blood dripping from their teeth. They pour in over the rocks and pathways like scampering beetles, devouring anyone in their way, leaving only bones and blood in their wake.

  Bringing up the rear, a chariot roars through, mowing down some of its own soldiers. It’s drawn by two horses, a white and a black, urged on by a fierce woman with flowing auburn hair, dressed in a blue tunic and green cape, a huge staff in one hand, the reins in the other.

  Behind her, an old man sits in the back, but I know in an instant he’s not some feeble, wounded passenger.

  He’s the general.

  Dressed in a long gray tunic and a cape made of raven feathers, he holds a single wand in his right hand, his lips uttering some terrible spell that gives the dead their strength. His blue eyes are wild with madness and purpose in equal measure.

  He raises his wand higher, and the charioteer pushes her steeds harder, through crowds of the living as well as the dead. Students I recognize from my classes, Professor Nakata, Professor Maddox—all of them try to flee, and all are mangled in the wake of this deadly, gruesome army.

  I try to cry out, to move, but I’m only a witness to the carnage, frozen in place, forced to watch helplessly as terror and death consume the Academy. Smoke rises, the stench of blood turning my stomach.