by LJ Swallow
“To begin with, the authorities told me that I would be—once they’d subjected me to time at Ravenhold. As a witch killer, my time there was... painful.”
And also something I don’t want to remember.
“But you survived?”
I give a wry smile. “Friends in high places and my unusual powers. Andrei’s grandfather wanted me to use those powers on protecting his grandson from the Dominion, and if I failed, he hoped I’d be strong enough to take on Gabriella.”
Her mouth parts. “Kill her? You didn’t try in the woods that night.”
“Jamie’s survival was my priority at the moment I had the chance to attack. But I doubt I’m strong enough.” I bite my lip. “Perhaps that’s the curse. I’ll die saving you from her.”
Maeve’s eyes glisten. “We have to break this curse, Tobias.”
Her naivety touches me again. “That’s impossible. Winterfall magic bound me and no more exists.”
“But what if there’s a spell book, like the Blackwood grimoire?”
I drop my gaze to the floor and rub my forehead. “The house burned along with everything and everyone inside. Like the Blackwoods, the family kept themselves private. The book would never have left the house.”
Images from the night flick through my head and I shake them away. I don’t have time to sink into regret and disgust—Maeve is my priority right now.
Maeve falls silent and when I look up, I’m confronted with what I hoped to avoid. The tears Maeve held back stream down her cheeks as she looks at me for help.
“I want this to stop. I don’t want to be controlled by imaginary heartbeats. Be part of a curse I don’t understand. I don’t know who I am anymore!” Her voice cracks and the magnitude of her distress surges forward and breaks through my wall.
She leans forward with her hands over her face and her back racks with sobs. She's a mess, every cell in her body filled with anguish and pain.
“I wish I could fix all this, Maeve.”
Her reply is a louder sob. I want nothing more than to be here and comfort her, but equally wish that one of the other guys could take my place. If Maeve was the only one with strong emotions, I may be able to cope, but my shock and anger at her sudden breakdown builds the energy in the room and grows with each second.
Maeve wraps her arms around her head and the distressed crying hits me harder than anything else. "Maeve."
I sit beside her and make the physical contact I swore I wouldn't. As soon as my arms go around her, Maeve curls up into a ball and pushes her face against my chest. There's no slight tingle from touching her, instead a sudden shock sparks across every place we touch. Sudden. Immediate. Her arms go around me and she remains curled up, breathing rapidly. Her distress guards her from experiencing the same as I am—an overwhelming need to kiss her. More. Comfort her, distract her, love her.
The fucking curse.
We stay like this and I'm shaking too. Why did I bring her here? Her fragrant hair and soft skin send me spinning back to memories of my hands on her body and how she yielded to me.
Don't think.
But each passing second tugs away my ability to stay in the moment and not drift into a risky one. Maeve shifts and her puffy eyes look into mine, as her thoughts untangle and are as plain as if she'd spoken them. Tentatively, she touches my cheek and when I don't respond, she moves closer. Maeve's lips are a whisper away and the magic charge around focuses entirely on that tiny space between us.
"Maeve, " I murmur. "You need to rest."
She presses her mouth on mine in response. I should say no, but fate already plotted against me. She keeps her small hand on my cheek as she urges me to kiss her and I slide my hand into her hair. She tastes of a sweetness I've only ever experienced with Maeve; an intoxication as strong as any blood.
The curse? More? We have to accept this will always be a part of us. I kiss Maeve slowly, holding back the fierce energy threatening to spill into passion for her. She accepts my gentle kiss, but I pull away as I sense her need.
What the fuck am I doing? "You really should sleep, Maeve. You've had one hell of a night."
Her dark eyes look back at me with an unmistakable plea, one I've seen before, on the night at the Blackwoods when everything ended badly. Jamie's accusation last term, that I took advantage of a vulnerable girl, rings in my ears. Maeve is vulnerable. She needs me, but not in the way her kiss tells me she wants.
Maeve reluctantly allows me to peel her arms from around me. “Sleep. Tomorrow we’ll work on ending whatever is happening to you,” I say.
I don’t know if she believes we ever can, or if I do.
Leaving her, I slip down the short hallway and to my bedroom. As I move towards the room, I can breathe properly again. There's respite from the desire, but not much, because we're bound again. Gathering a pillow and soft purple blanket, I head back to find Maeve hasn't moved from the spot she's in.
"I'll sleep here. You can have my bed."
Her eyes widen and she watches me place the thick purple blanket and pillow on the armchair I sat in earlier. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. I'll show you."
The neatness she associates with Professor Whitlock flies out of the window when she steps into the chaos inside my bedroom. Clothes are flung over chairs, the bed unmade, and half-empty cups strewn on every surface. The heavy curtains are drawn, and a small lamp offers light.
I sense the buzzing grow as she passes, then fade as she sits and scrunches the sheets in her hand. "Thanks."
"No problem."
I begin to leave the room. “Tobias,” she whispers. Please, no. Don’t pull me in. Warily, I turn back to her. “I’ll find a way to break the curse.”
The hope in her eyes silences my protest that her plan is impossible.
“Good night, Maeve.” I back out as quickly as I can before she says anything else.
There's no way I'll sleep anymore tonight.
Chapter Fifty-Two
ASH
Tobias should've brought Maeve to me last night, not taken her to his place. She needed to be away from all things witch and vampire. Maeve told me before that time away from mental magic and spells helps her; that the comfort and simplicity of time with me balances the intensity. Sure, I'd like to see into her mind and know what Maeve's thinking, but that's any guy's wish. Our intensity is more physical and sometimes that’s what Maeve needs.
She's pale this morning, stress and lack of sleep pulling her low. I hold onto my temper when we meet her at Tobias's and they tell us what happened, but Jamie loses his shit. This amuses me, considering he gets annoyed with Andrei doing the same. Tobias merely sits and takes his anger while I stand close to the door, uncomfortable with being in his space.
There's a blanket scrunched on the sofa. Did Tobias or Maeve sleep there? I've had my suspicions there's something physical between them, but at least he didn't take advantage last night.
He's across the room from her now.
"I don't care whether you saw something in the cellar or not," says Jamie tersely. "Take us there and I'll scry. If Maeve thinks there's something unusual, I believe her."
"I never said I didn’t believe her." Tobias keeps his even tone. "Whether by rumour or truth, Petrescu holds a secret. My concern is what the secret is and if we're prepared for what we'll face."
I rest my shoulder against the wall. "Fire, apparently. That's what Maeve saw in a past vision." Maeve continues her silence as she picks at her fingernails. "You can't still hear the heartbeat, can you?"
Biting her lip, she shakes her head. "I only hear the heartbeat in my dreams. Last night was the first time I heard the noise when I was awake."
"Something is down there," urges Jamie. "We need to find what or who. And how."
Tobias sinks back. "Maeve. I need you to write down every single vision you've had since you came to the academy. Every detail you can remember. Don't take part in any more practice with Sofia until we're on top of this."
"
When can we go back down?" she whispers.
"Once Andrei is awake."
"That's all day!" I complain.
Tobias laughs. "The guy is a light sleeper and the hemia are safe if they stay inside. After last night, I expect to hear from him within the hour."
Maeve chews her fingernails harder and I pull them from her mouth. "Should we go for a walk? I think that might help. Get away from the buildings."
"Good idea," says Tobias.
I look to Jamie, who shrugs. I can practically hear his mind whirling. "I asked April to find me academy plans from her father. I hope she's managed."
"I'm still suspicious of her," says Maeve.
"Nah, she always does things for Jamie," I say with a smirk. "Doesn't she?"
He presses his lips together. "We've always helped each other."
"But if she's a smart girl, surely she'll want to know why you're looking." Maeve's distrust continues. I understand—she's coping with a lot and protecting herself.
"If need be, I'll tell her the assignment is for me," says Tobias.
Maeve moves the blanket and stands. She's wearing an oversize shirt that covers her perfect ass, and I see her shorts peeking out from beneath. Why is she in Tobias's shirt?
"Perhaps change, Maeve," says Tobias. "You only have your pyjama vest and shorts on under the shirt you borrowed to stay warm."
Bloody mind-reading vamps.
I meet Maeve half an hour later and we make our way across the playing fields. She's quiet, gripping my hand as she walks at a slow pace.
"Did you want to sleep instead?" I ask. "I didn’t think."
"No. I want to breathe."
The grass has grown longer, and daisies and dandelions spring through the grass. Turning her back on the academy, Maeve sits, pulling on my hand as she does.
"Thank you, Ash." Plucking a daisy from the ground, she begins to pick at the petals. "I couldn't cope with any more inside that place."
"We could head off campus, if you want?"
"No. As soon as Andrei is around, I want to go back to the cellar. I'm clearer-headed this time." Maeve's mouth turns down and I shuffle over to hug her. "Don't hug me too hard; I'll cry," she whispers.
"Maeve." I pull her against my chest. "I wish I could squeeze the pain out of you."
"I think if you squeezed me too hard, you’d do the opposite.” She looks up at me. “I remember watching you play rugby here on my first day. You were kind to me. You have such a big heart."
Chuckling, I pick at the grass beside us. "You mean I was friendly to the cute new girl? No ulterior motive at all."
"Maybe, but you were friendly, not sleazy." She gives me a small smile. "Unlike me, since I was checking you out on the rugby pitch."
"Heh." I kiss her nose, happy I’ve stopped her from crying.
We lapse into a comfortable silence as Maeve begins to make a chain from her daisies. "Time with you is less complicated," she says eventually. "I know you're not trying to read me—and won’t accidentally catch my thoughts."
"Yeah, I get that." I pick a flower and hand it to Maeve. "I'm always here if you want to escape the witches and vamps."
"Oh." Maeve looks up. "I don't want to escape them; I meant I like my time alone with you. Sometimes I forget you're not human."
"Neither are you."
"I'm aware," she says. "Because your powers aren't as obvious to me, I suppose."
"Yet."
I look at the tiny daisy between my thick fingers. How many delicate things could be destroyed by my strength? I heard Jamie's words the other day about Andrei's change, but mine isn't far now. I still obsessively check the scales on my back and sometimes imagine there're more. Maeve always reassures me that there aren't.
“You won't walk around as a dragon all the time," she says and nudges me. "You won't be obvious."
"I'll be stronger. I don't like that I'll be a dragon shifter, but at least I'm not a wolf or bear." I tap my head. "I’ll hold onto this Ash—I’ll be able to hang onto my mind unlike Clive and co. who are bear and wolf shifters. They're more primal."
Maeve pauses in her daisy threading. "I'm not sure I want to see you shifted."
My heart twists painfully. That's not something I want either. "I don't intend to be around you when I do."
“You won’t run from us, will you?” she asks with sudden fear in her voice.
“I don’t plan on going anywhere.” I tip Maeve’s chin and kiss her softly, reminding myself that however strong I become, I’ll always have gentleness for this girl.
She holds the back of my head and returns the kiss. “Thank you,” she says as she pulls away.
Maeve lies down and puts her head in my lap and I pass her daisies to continue making her chain. The sun warms the day and I don’t want to walk back into whatever shadows wait to shroud us inside the academy.
The peace I feel with Maeve wipes away fears for the future and stops the constant worry Vince will return and hurt me. Finally, she sits and wraps the chain around my head, laughing at me when I pout.
“I dare you to walk back into the academy wearing that.”
Arching a bow, I stand and hold my hand out to pull Maeve to her feet. “If this makes you smile, I’ll wear your daisy crown all day.”
She chuckles and loops her arms around my neck to kiss me again.
I am not wearing this daisy crown all day.
Chapter Fifty-Three
MAEVE
I spend the afternoon noting all my visions in a book. At first, I worried they might trigger again. I almost asked Jamie to sit with me, but he’s drawn to the library and focuses on digging for more secrets.
That anxiety grows with each memory I write, but I push on. There are clues in here somewhere, however jumbled they are. Time passes quicker than I realise and I hastily close the book, ready to meet with the others.
How do I feel about scrying in the cellar? Terrified of another vision like the one when I scoured Becci’s mind. The darkness could pull me closer and Jamie might not help me this time.
No. I swallow the growing lump and make my way from my room. I have to do this or we won’t take any steps to solving what the hell is happening.
As I wander along the hallway, the person I really didn’t want to see walks towards me.
Sofia.
“I need to speak with you,” she says tersely.
Not the gentle persona today, then. Crap. “Sofia, I’m sorry. I totally forgot about our practice.”
“Yes. I thought you might.” She tips her chin. “No. I need to speak to you about a different matter.”
I give a sweet smile but inside I’m panicking. Has somebody told her about the Blackwoods? “Should we talk in your office?”
With a curt nod, she stalks away, and I hurry to follow her. At least if I see her, I can get the woman off my back and find the others.
I associate the smell in Sofia's room with uncomfortable visions, and I avoid sitting in the chair she prefers me to use when we practice.
Her room has a more magical feel in the early evening as the soft light shines through different colour gauzes pinned on the ceiling beneath lightbulbs, projecting colours on the walls and across her crystal collection on the shelves. I eye the large stone she likes me to use for scrying, and sit in the armchair Jamie usually occupies.
"Did you enjoy your recent weekend at home?" she asks lightly as she reaches for something inside her oak desk drawer.
"Yes." Sofia doesn't know, but is she fishing?
"I'm concerned about you spending time in your old life, not only because you risk attack, but because immersing yourself would set you back." She sits in the opposite chair with a small white envelope in her hand.
"You don’t need to worry; I wanted to return to the academy. I didn't enjoy myself." I deliberately close my mind in case she touches me and sees more than she knows.
"Hmm." She taps the envelope on her knee. "Any visions recently, Maeve?"
"No. I'm findi
ng the atmosphere around the academy difficult to deal with and distracting." I pause, fed up of small talk. "Is this meeting about Andrei?"
"No. You know my opinion on your dalliance and how this affects your standing amongst Walcott students, but there's little I can do. Interhouse relationships are not forbidden." Her expression changes and tone ices. “Student-professor relationships, however, are a different matter."
"You needn't worry about Professor Whitlock, if that's who you're referring to," I reply in an equally cold tone.
Face souring further at my borderline impudence, she passes the envelope to me. “A letter arrived addressed to you this morning. I believe this is from your aunt."
Taking the letter, my heart skips. Who writes letters these days? I can't make out the postmark date above the address written in peacock blue ink.
“Have you read this?” I ask, but the envelope is sealed.
"I would not invade your privacy in such a manner," she retorts. “I recognised her handwriting.”
Carefully, I pick at the edge of the envelope and take the thin paper from inside before unfolding. My aunt's handwriting is small and neat in the same colour ink, but further down the page the words grow in size, and some are in capitals.
Dear Maeve,
I don't know if I dreamed about you or witnessed your future, but I saw you with the Blackwoods.
I glance at the date on the letter. Two days before they took me. Why couldn't she email?
You were with Tobias Whitlock. Did he take you there? I think I remember him but other times I decide I've yet to meet the man. Is he the man? I spoke to somebody who told me he is, but I forget names. I barely remember my own some days. You think I would remember, but perhaps I wanted to forget. We're very much about the future, you and I, aren't we?
"Anything interesting?" asks Sofia craning her neck.
I shake my head. "Rambling."
I'm surprised anybody is still at the academy after the fire. Surely rebuilding would take some time. Did I see you recently? How is your mother? I've asked her to contact me, but she refuses. I never meant for this to happen. I didn't realise you'd be this troubled.
