by Leigh Kelsey
“Nothing.”
“Katriona.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t show off just because you know my first name.”
“What were you going to say?”
Kati scowled but … should he be pressing for an answer? Wouldn’t a good, appropriate teacher ignore what had clearly almost been a confession of some sort? And yet Mr Worth looked fascinated to learn the answer.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Kati admitted. “Okay? You’re one of the few people in this academy I know for sure isn’t going round attacking people—can you do me a favour and stay alive, thanks?”
His laugh was low and shot heat all through Kati’s body. It pooled between Kati’s legs and she knew her face was on fire. Souls, that laugh. “I’ll do my best.”
Kati reached for the door handle, her jaw set. “Go to the library, wait outside, I don’t care. But you’re not staying in here.”
“I absolutely am,” he replied, his voice like steel.
Kati ground her teeth. “Fine. Call Madam Hawkness here, then. I’m not leaving you alone.”
He held her gaze for a long moment, a battle of wills, and then said, “Fine.”
SALAZAR, AKA SUPER BUFF MAN CANDY
However they’d done it, Kati, Mr Worth, and Madam Hawkness had managed to scare off the killer and circumvent what should have been a fourth attack, for which Kati was eternally grateful. It was nice to avoid all the blood and poison and murder; she was starting to think she was a banshee, crying at the first sign of death.
Madam Hawkness was practically beaming with pride at Kati for having prevented a death, and even hinted that with an augury like hers, she’d make a good asset for the gentry. Kati had nearly snorted. Her, sister of a rumoured murderer, reputed evil murderess herself, a gentry? As if.
Naia thought it was a brilliant idea, and went off on a rambling tangent about history’s most famous gentry members when Kati told her Madam Hawkness’s comment. Rahmi was notably quiet on the subject, but she was busy writing an essay for health and safety, so Kati didn’t ask for her opinion.
Instead, she left Rahmi to finish her essay and asked Naia to come with her to track down a student. Naia looked visibly nervous about the idea of lying to any more teachers but Kati was good to her word and wouldn’t ask her to do it again. It wasn’t as if they were breaking any rules this time.
It took them the better part of the night to find Joshua Salazar. Kati had begun to assume he’d graduated or dropped out of SBA, but a casual question to Miz Jardin, encountered in the dining hall at lunch, gave them a place to start: the training arena on the basement floor.
“That boy needs to sort out his priorities,” Miz Jardin lamented. “He has no interest in my class at all, only in the practical lessons, but without health and safety know-how, he could suffer a nasty accident. If you find him, you tell him that. Tuesday afternoon’s his class if he can be bothered to show up.”
Kati blinked but nodded. Ever since Madam Hawkness had vouched for Kati—and even better, clearly told the teachers that she’d helped save Catherine Hopwell’s life—Miz Jardin had returned to her bubbly, welcoming self even with Kati.
“Any ideas how to get to the training arena?” Kati asked Naia as they left the dining hall, their bellies full of roast chicken and pasta.
Naia gave her a bewildered look. “Of course. You know there’s a map of the school and grounds in your welcome pack, right?”
“Ah, that. Yeah, I just read the first page to be honest. Expected them to kick me out the second I turned up at the gates, so I didn’t see the point in reading the whole book.”
Naia’s mouth flopped open but she closed it with effort and said, “I guess that’s okay. But you really ought to read it all now you know you’re staying, Kati. There’s some really interesting stuff in the guide, and the maps come in handy.”
Kati smirked, fondness creeping into the expression as she promised Naia, “I’ll try and remember to read it.” At the worst, she could photo the maps so she had them on her phone in case she got lost. Which she’d done seven times so far in the weeks since she’d arrived. Naia might have a point, to be honest. “Lead the way, O knowledgeable guide.”
Naia laughed but looked pleased to take the lead.
The arena was about as different from the training green around the back of the academy as you could get. Instead of open and bare, the arena was a sunken coliseum built into the obsidian-like rock beneath SBA, with all manner of weapons in racks and practise rings on the upper level around it, and an archway that led to a massive state-of-the-art gym. Well. This explained how some of the third-year guys got so muscular.
“Um,” Kati said to Naia, “did we just enter the freaking Bat Cave?”
Naia gave her a confused frown; right, she wasn’t into pop culture much, unless that pop culture related to a centuries-old line of kings or a kingdom that had existed before time began.
“Batman reference,” Kati explained.
“Right.” Naia nodded. “I knew that. How do we find this guy?”
“Good fucking question,” Kati muttered, staring at the sheer number of students in here. Apparently a big part of SBA’s third year was training as often as possible, as the whole year seemed to be packed into the vast arena, as well as a couple first and second years, wands shooting bursts of many-coloured magics, staffs colliding in practise battles, and raised voices coming from the seats built into the floor as spectators waited for the next duel, or at least Kati assumed. “There’s no rule against us being here, right?”
“No,” Naia answered quickly, and recited what was surely the Second Breath Academy rulebook. “First years are permitted to visit the training arena in their spare time to work on their defensive abilities and put spells and magic theory lessons into practise.”
“Perfect.” Kati grinned, not mad at all that there seemed to be a lot of bulging, sweaty skin on display around her. Souls, the arms on these men and the abs on these women … Kati was practically salivating. “Let’s go take a seat, see if we can’t get chatting to someone.”
Socialising wasn’t her preferred modus operandi, but she could be forced to speak to a burly, strong man if the situation really called for it.
Kati dropped onto a sunken step in the arena with a grin. She’d just found her new favourite room at the academy.
“Yeah, he’s on next,” a pimply-faced guy replied when Kati asked him if he’d seen Joshua Salazar. He nodded at the arena and Kati’s eyes widened, her grin growing. Perfect.
What better way to get the measure of someone than to watch them do magical battle?
“Are you overwhelmed, or is it just me?” Naia whispered beside Kati, fanning her face with a notebook. “It’s so hot in here.”
Kati snorted. “Oh yeah. Definitely overwhelmed. Rahmi’s gonna kick herself for being so focussed on her essay when she hears about this. I should take some pictures to show her what she’s missing.”
And if they happened to stay on her phone after she’d sent them … well, Kati needed a pick me up most days, and having a hot, sweaty warrior in her iCloud would work wonders for her mood. Maybe she could find someone else to invest her time and affection in than her totally off-limits death magic theory teacher.
Maybe.
Naia gasped, leaning forward on the stone seat as two figures jogged down the steps to the arena floor, a tall woman with blonde hair in a ponytail holding a staff, and a guy with long black hair tied back to expose a sharp-planed face, wearing tight-fitting dark clothing with obvious strength in his frame. Unlike his opponent, he held only a wand.
“Um,” Kati said, her eyes wide at the bulging arms exposed by the guys’s sleeveless shirt. “That’s Joshua Salazar?”
Naia was flitting anxious glances at Kati. “I don’t think I can talk to someone like that. He’s so … physically imposing.”
“Yeah,” Kati agreed, eyeing his arms. He wasn’t overly bulky, more compact except for those arms, but h
e gave off a don’t fuck with me aura that made him seem even bigger. Coupled with the long black hair, eyebrow piercing, and a half-sleeve of tattoos down his right arm, he gave the impression of a serious bad boy.
Translation: entirely Kati’s type.
“I’m gonna sleep with him,” Kati said, resigned.
“What?” Naia hissed, shooting Kati a look that questioned her sanity.
“It’s gonna happen. No doubt about it. Assuming he’s into short, angry redheads, anyway.”
Naia’s expression softened. “You’re very pretty, Kati.”
Kati raised an eyebrow. “What, you’d do me, would you?”
Naia averted her gaze. “You’re not my type.”
She’d said that before, Kati remembered, their first morning at SBA. “Female?”
Naia darted a glance up, seemed to hold her breath, then said, “No, I like girls and guys, but you’re … um. Intimidating sometimes. And snarly.”
Kati hmmed; she had a point. And it was nice that Naia trusted her enough to come out to her. “Fair enough.”
Naia blinked. “You’re … okay with me liking girls?”
“Chill, Clarke,” Kati said with a grin. “I’m not gonna start spouting homophobic bullshit. Besides, I’m pan.”
A barely contained squeal answered Kati; she peered worriedly at Naia, wondering if something inside her had exploded. Naia expelled a breath, the tailend of a squeak coming out as she grabbed Kati’s sleeve, whispering, “You’re queer, too? Why didn’t you tell me? Oh my souls! This is awesome! I can’t believe it!”
“Sure,” Kati replied dryly, not sure what to do when faced with Naia’s sudden exuberance. “We’ll throw a pride parade to celebrate.”
Naia gasped. “Do you think Madam Hawkness will—”
“Joke, Naia.” Kati said quickly, snorting at the disappointment in Naia’s eyes. “I was joking. But if our illustrious headteacher would let you organise one, go for it. Just don’t expect me to get up on a float in a feather boa and glitter—I’m not that kind of queer girl.”
Naia nodded seriously, a contemplative look in her eye. “But—hypothetically speaking—would you take part if it was black glitter? Oh! What about if we cover the float in lyrics from that band you like—Rainstorm.”
“Halestorm, and still no.” Kati tried to picture herself on a magically levitating float but she only saw herself sulking as people vomited rainbows and glitter all around her.
Naia pouted.
Kati sighed. “Just don’t expect me to smile or wave.”
Naia fist pumped, grinning so wide that Kati worried her face would stay that way. “You’re the best,” Naia crowed, grabbing Kati into a hug then darting back before Kati could get stabby.
“I’m a pushover.”
Naia just kept smiling, happiness practically bubbling from her. Her smile transformed her from the pretty, if a bit plain, bookworm into someone truly beautiful, and Kati saw her catch the eye of at least four people sitting around the training arena. Not that Naia noticed; she was oblivious, doodling in a notebook she’d produced from her heavy bag. Kati shook her head, smiling, and returned her attention to the male specimen warming up for his magical duel in the arena.
As if sensing her attention, he glanced up midway through a stretch and narrowed his eyes at Kati. She gave him a wry smile and a sarcastic little wave, her belly fluttering as he glared harder. From anyone else, Kati wouldn’t have accepted such a hostile stare—she’d have lashed out with vicious words or given them the finger, assuming they were judging her based on all the dark rumours—but he was just too pretty to be mad at. She settled back on the stone step, resting her weight on her elbows, as lazy as a cat as she watched him return to his warm up.
The duel itself was a spectacle. He and his opponent were well matched and both adept at spells and potion slinging. The blonde woman swung her staff with expert skill, sparks of magic erupting from its crystal, but Joshua Salazar was quick, his wand a blur as he countered every spell she threw at him until the air was full of an electric charge, magic shivering all around them. Smoke and clouds of magic exploded whenever one of them threw a potion, intended to weaken their opponent but sometimes backfiring and affecting them both.
Naia gasped, grabbing Kati’s arm as Joshua Salazar brought his wand around in a massive arc around his body and shot a lightning streak of silver magic at the woman. She brought her staff up but could only block the first part of the spell; the curling end of the magic hit her in the chest and she went perfectly still, frozen in place.
Around them, the spectators held their breath, the pimply-faced guy in front of Kati and Naia counting to five under his breath. The second he reached five, Joshua Salazar made an elaborate gesture with his wand and the blonde woman shook out her limbs, mobile again. With a sharp laugh, she reached out and the two of them shook hands.
“Let’s go,” Kati said as Joshua Salazar stormed for the steps again. “We need to catch him before he leaves.”
“Kati, I’m not sure about this,” Naia complained, shoving her scribbled-in notebook into her bag and rushing to her feet as Kati hurried to the top level of the arena, marching purposefully across the space to intercept Salazar as he popped up.
“Hey,” she called, suddenly empty of words when faced with a sweaty, heavily breathing, muscular man. “Uh. I need to talk to you.” With effort, she dragged her eyes from his chest, his glistening arms, to his face.
Salazar snorted. “Piss off, Wilson.”
He made to shove past her and everything about him, the dismissal, the derision, cleared whatever lust had addled her. She grabbed his forearm before he could get away, and dug her fingernails into the corded muscle as he turned and glared at her so darkly she recognised her own expression in him. So this was what it felt like to be on the receiving end.
“I said,” she ground out, “I need to talk to you. It’s not fucking optional, asshole.”
He snorted, wrenching his arm free, seemingly uncaring of the red trails she left on his skin. “And I said piss off.”
He bulldozed his way through a huddle of people discussing duel strategy and Kati’s eyes flashed, her heart beating fast with the challenge. Adrenaline surged through her and she grinned as she pursued him.
“Kati…” Naia protested, but followed reluctantly.
Kati stuck close to Joshua Salazar as he made his way through the training area to the stairs, then up into the lobby on the first floor. He rounded on her and Naia in the middle of the floor, sparkles thrown onto them by the Diamond Rotunda above. His emerald eyes were alive with anger. “I’m warning you, Wilson.”
“That’s cute, Joshua,” she threw back, matching his snide tone.
He stepped nearer, the very movement threatening, and Kati’s breath caught. Souls, she was so turned on. “It’s Salazar, and only Salazar. Call me anything else and I’ll hex you so hard you’ll forget how to breathe. I have no trouble taking out bigots and elitists.”
Kati blinked, stepped back. “Excuse me?” Offense poured through her, and whatever playfulness she’d had before was like a burning coal dunked in ice water. “Excuse me?” she repeated.
He leaned so close that a strand of long dark hair that had escaped his ponytail brushed her face. “You fucking heard me.”
Kati had never been so angry in her life. Breathing hard, a roaring noise in her ears, she said, “You don’t know a single damn thing about me, Salazar.”
He snorted, drawing back. “I know you’re exactly like your brother.”
The breath punched from Kati’s lungs. This was good, she told herself, even as her eyes burned and her body shook with rage. This was an opening. This was what she needed. “Yeah. About Theo. I saw your name on a report in the magic theory classroom, with Theo’s name, and Colen Greensmith’s.” Her throat closed on that name. “Did he … he couldn’t have written that.”
Salazar laughed, a hard punch of a sound. “Oh, he wrote it. They wrote it together. All but t
he only sane paragraph, which was my contribution.” The one arguing against the crippling curse. Kati’s heart sank.
“Wait.” Kati shook, aware she was falling apart. Again. She reached up and pressed her hand over her chest, feeling the outline of the charm Mr Worth had given her beneath her jumper. “They both wrote it? Theo and Colen?”
Salazar shrugged, the planes of his face hard and unforgiving. “Yeah, they were as bad as each other.”
Kati just stared at him. Eventually she found the courage to ask, “He really believed a torturing charm should be brought back?”
“That and more,” Salazar confirmed. It took Kati a second to realise the very sharpest edge had left his voice. “You didn’t know any of the shit he was involved in, did you?”
“Not until I got here,” Kati said in a thick voice.
“And she’s not a bigot,” Naia said fiercely, making Kati jump; she’d forgotten she was there. Naia wrapped an arm around Kati’s shoulder and she was amused to see a savage scowl on Naia’s face, her dark eyes seething with ire. “Or an elitist. She’s a good person.”
Salazar raised a pierced eyebrow. “I doubt it.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Kati hissed, and for a split second she debated kicking him in the balls. “Fuck the fuck you.”
“Eloquent,” he remarked, smirking.
“One more comment,” Kati warned, “and I’ll punch that pretty smirk off your damn face, and kick you in the balls for good bloody measure.”
He gasped, a hand to his chest. “You think I’m pretty?” Kati reared her foot back; with alarm, he jumped out of the way and Kati grinned. It was brittle and broken but it was still a grin; it held remnants of fierceness. “Look,” he sighed, running a hand over his head and tugging at his ponytail. “I can only tell you what I know.”
Hope spiralled through Kati; she nodded desperately, shook harder.
“I only worked with him that one time, for the essay, and the whole time he and Greensmith kept spewing hatred and bullshit about legacies being superior than every other reaper and necromancer. We argued over the essay, I didn’t want my name on anything that disgusting. In the end, most of my work got cut out and they rewrote everything but the single paragraph that made it through, and only then because it was supposed to be an argument for and against the crippling curse.”
