I nodded, and he led me away from my sister and Rhys. I looked back to see the two of them discussing something, undoubtedly what Aidan had meant about his parents. I know I sure had some questions brewing.
He stopped in the center of the room and dipped his head to my ear. “I think I might have found something helpful in the book, but I need more time. That’s what I was coming to tell you when I walked into this mess.”
“For the record, I didn’t start it.”
“With Sarah, I believe that, but I need you to tread lightly where she’s concerned from now on. You cannot provoke her like that again, especially not in front of everyone, understand?”
“I’m not helpless,” I argued. “I did disable the headmaster and the keepers when we tried to escape.”
“And at what cost?” he countered, looking at the golden marking on my hand. “This isn’t about your strength, Cece. It’s about keeping you safe. I don’t know how you’d fare against Sarah…”
His unspoken “…and I don’t want to find out” hung heavy in the air between us. I squirmed under the press of his worry as it escaped him.
“I’m not really keen on being suffocated to death,” I said, trying to break the tension, “so yeah, I’ll try to behave.” A look and feeling of relief washed over him as he pulled away enough for me to see his face. “Wait—is that why you act like that around her? Why you’re keeping up pretenses? Because you’re afraid of what she’ll do to me otherwise?”
His jaw flexed as he held back whatever it was he clearly wanted to say. “I don’t want your blood on my hands.”
The corner of my mouth twitched with morbid amusement. “Well, there wouldn't actually be blood if I died of asphyxiation, but—”
“Promise me you won’t bait her,” he said, ignoring my humor.
“Promise me you’ll drop the whole ‘destroy the ball’ thing in case what you found doesn’t pan out—”
“Cece—”
“Promise me, Aidan, and I’ll agree.”
His chest and shoulders rose with his sharp inhale that he let out slowly. “Fine. What happens to the ball will be your call to make.”
I smiled up at him. “That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”
“Say it,” he all but growled, leaning in closer. “Say you’ll leave Sarah alone.”
“I already did—”
“Say the words out loud, Cece.”
I did as he asked, and the gold on my hand glowed brighter still.
The tension in his shoulders eased, if only a little. “Good. Now, we should probably end this before my layers of glamour start to overlap and the house of cards falls.”
“Wait!” I said, panic shooting through me again. “There’s one more thing.” He looked at me, wariness in his eyes as he waited for me to deliver whatever blow I had planned. “It’s the Council…”
His eyes went wide. “What about the Council?”
“They’re here. They’re the special guests.”
Foreign words escaped his mouth, but I was willing to bet, given their tone, that they weren’t favorable.
“Then we need to get out of here sooner than later.”
“If you can think of a safe way to do that, I’m all ears,” I said with a sigh. “Now, tell me you at least let me get in a few good shots in this pretend fight of ours.” I groaned as I stared at the delight on the students’ faces, and Aidan flashed me a genuine smile.
“Do you want to see?”
Childlike joy shot through me, erasing the fear the thought of the Council had brought. “Hell yes, I want to see! Why would you even bother asking?”
With a wave of his hand, what was reality for everyone else in the cafeteria became visible to me. Aidan and I stood at opposite ends of the room, talking shit and wielding magic at one another. My shirt was covered in blood that poured out of my nose, and much to my surprise, he wasn’t without a scratch. The fey boy had let me get in a few imaginary shots, too.
“So how does it end?” I asked him as I watched one of his smoky black extensions whip across the room and wrap around me. It lifted me high in the air, and illusion-me screamed and wriggled to get free.
I looked up to find Aidan staring at the same thing, his expression tight and his energy even tighter.
“The only way it can.”
With that, I watched my body fly across the room and land in a heap on the floor next to the doors. Aidan’s fake Maddy screamed and ran over to help me up. Fake Rhys wasn’t far behind.
“Get the others and go,” Aidan said softly. “You’ll need to lay low for now. I’ll come find you in a bit.” I signaled for the real Maddy and Rhys to head over. “And you’ll need this, too.” I looked down to find my shirt covered in blood. “For pretense,” he said with a mischievous smile.
I flashed him one in return.
“I’ll get you next time,” I said with a wink before I headed toward the doors Rhys had just disappeared through, Maddy at my side.
Aidan’s laughter trailed behind us.
And once again, it was genuine.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Maddy
“Hobble,” I said to Cece as we left the cafeteria.
“What?”
Stalling, I rolled my eyes and heaved out a sigh. “Can you at least pretend you’re injured? Apparently, everyone except Rhys and me just saw Aidan slam you around the cafeteria. They think you’re near death. Try to pretend you are.”
She moaned and clutched her side, and damn, she did a great Hunchback of Notre Dame.
“I’m going to go look for Wolfy some more,” I said when we reached her door. “You hang out and act like you’re recovering from your substantial injuries.”
“I have no problem with napping.”
Or sleeping in, something we hadn’t been allowed to do at Wadsworth.
“Since you’re playing mom, I’ll return the favor,” she said.
I turned, lifting my eyebrows.
“Get Rhys and take him with you.” Her glance cut around the seemingly empty room, and she lowered her voice to a near-whisper. “We need to be careful.”
“I will.” I had no problem taking him along with me. “See you later?”
She nodded and shut her door. The lock engaged with a click.
I found Rhys in his room and enlisted his help looking for Wolfy. We were soon walking past the suits of armor, aiming for the older section of the reformatory.
“Where are we looking first?” Rhys asked.
“I thought about it, and as weird as it sounds, I thought we could pick up the dresses Cece and I found, then take a look around for Wolfy while we’re up there. If we’re caught, the dresses will make a great cover.” I explained about what my sister and I had found.
He nodded, though concern flashed in his eyes. Trailing his finger along the steel dudes, his hand snagged on a sword, and the weapon broke free from the metal glove and dropped onto the floor with a clatter loud enough to startle ghosts.
I jumped and my laugh burst out, a jittery sound that only made the situation creepier. I wasn’t really worried much about being seen. Until we had the dresses in hand, we could tell whoever might stop us that we were helping my sister gather decorations and assorted whatevers for the upcoming dance. Should’ve thought of something like a dance before. Then we could’ve strode around the place un-accosted for days.
Well, that and zapping the headmaster to make him act like a dog wearing an obedience collar.
I chuckled and Rhys smiled, unaware of my thoughts but happy to share the moment.
We climbed the stairs and eventually reached the hallway with all the doors, including the one leading to the weird dress closet. But as Rhys reached out for the knob, I drifted past him toward the attic door. Maybe while we were here, we could check out the room. Cece had been creeped out about the painting. Might as well check it out firsthand.
Reaching the door at the end of the hall, I turned the knob. Would I find the attic, or would I wi
nd up in a closet downstairs? My sister had mentioned being transported to different parts of the reformatory after walking through this doorway. I’d need to be on guard.
The door opened easily, and instead of being beamed to some other location, I spied a cluttered room.
“Hey, Rhys?” I called out.
He poked his head out into the hall from the creepy dress room. “They’re here on the bed. You want me to…ah, the attic.”
I shrugged. “I want to take a look around.”
Rhys joined me inside the room full of rubble. “You sure we should be here?”
“Why not?”
“Why?”
“Curiosity.”
“Which kills cats.”
I pressed my palm against my chest in mock horror. “But not winged shifters.”
He grinned. “Cocky, aren’t you?”
“It’s not exactly cocky.” Or maybe it was. I felt as if I was finally sinking into my skin and wearing it. I hoped the feeling lasted. “It’s taking charge of the situation.”
“Lead away. I’ll cover the rear.” He tapped my butt as I sped ahead of him, and my snicker shot through the room, breaking the grim silence.
I’d only taken one step forward when I stopped.
Rhys’s hand settled comfortably on the back of my waist. “Did we change our minds? The dress room has a bed. We could make out.”
We hadn’t gone in that direction yet…hmm. I wasn’t opposed to the idea. “We’re looking for Wolfy, remember?”
“I doubt he’s in the attic.”
“That bed has a foot of dust on it.”
“So…?”
“Later.” I peered around. Dust, dust, and more dust. The bunnies had done what they normally did and created more dust bunnies.
I advanced into the room, wide pine boards groaning and shifting underneath my feet. “Think the floor will give out beneath us?”
“And send us down into…” He frowned. “I’m trying to figure out what room would be under us.”
“No clue.” I peered around, hoping I’d find Wolfy or something exciting. So far, I was striking out, unless I was into broken wooden rockers, cloth-covered furniture, or paintings of… Yes! Was this the painting? I paused and squinted toward the dimly-lit wall on my left. A cardboard box was in the way, but when I tiptoed around it, I spied a painting of a castle. Something moved along the surface, which shouldn’t have been possible.
Rhys continued to poke around behind me, exclaiming about an old record player or something like that.
I approached the painting, which showed a craggy landscape. In the center, a medieval castle perched at the top of a tall cliff and…I leaned closer. What was that?
“Interesting finding you here,” someone said in a crotchety voice.
I spun around, expecting to find an old man wearing a dark, dusty robe, a beard hanging to the middle of his chest, lurking behind me.
“Find anything?” Rhys asked from the other side of the room. Murky sunlight fought its way through the solitary window placed high on the end wall.
“Just…” I shook my head and turned back to the painting.
A reddish object shifted across the surface, and I yelped.
“Maddy?” Rhys asked. “You run into a mouse?” He snickered.
“Mice are sweet. That wouldn’t scare me.”
“Are you hurt, then?” The humor had fled his voice.
“No, I’m okay. There’s just something—”
“Just be careful, okay?”
“I will.” Leaning forward, I examined the painting. “Grubby thing, aren’t you? You need a good cleaning.”
“You hang out in a painting for hundreds of years and see how you look after that.” A red dragon crept around the top of the tallest turret, its claws scraping on the roof tiles.
“I still can’t believe a painting can talk,” I whispered.
“You’re right,” the dragon said. “The painting isn’t talking to you. I am.”
“Why?”
“Boredom?”
“I mean, why is a dragon in a painting able to talk at all?”
“Would you rather I said nothing and just stared at you?”
“I guess that’s the norm.” Raking my hair back to secure it in the tie I’d snapped around my wrist that morning, I shuddered as my fingers snagged on cobwebs. Dancing around, I brushed them off my shoulders and sides.
“Cute,” the dragon said.
“I don’t like spiders.”
“They’re the least of your worries.”
“In this place, I’m not surprised.”
“You are talking to someone,” Rhys said, leaving the opposite side of the room and joining me at the painting. “Is this the one your sister mentioned? To be honest, I wondered if she’d imagined it.”
“Welcome, guardian,” the dragon said, dipping its head in a bow.
Rhys stumbled back a step before storming forward. “Paintings shouldn’t be able to talk. I thought…who knows what. Weird shit happens here all the time.”
The dragon sighed, emitting plumes of reddish smoke from its nostrils. “Are we back to that again?”
“You called me a guardian,” Rhys said, focusing on the more interesting part of the conversation.
“You were once, and you will be again,” the dragon said. Its wings extended in what looked like a stretch before tucking back against its spine.
Rhys scowled, but his voice came out eager. “That knowledge was wiped from my family’s minds. Are you saying it’s possible for one of us to be a guardian again?”
“Have you sought deep inside yourself?” the dragon asked.
“For what in particular?”
“Who you need to be.” The dragon tipped its head in my direction. “This one needs training, and perhaps to be hosted, though I’m not sure it will or should take.”
Rhys blinked while the dragon examined the long claws on his front leg. “I…are you talking about Maddy? She’s not a sentinel. She’s a malum magicae.”
“Is she?”
I stepped forward, partway between Rhys and the painting. “You two are leaving me out of this discussion, and it seems to involve me.” I turned to the dragon. “Are you saying I’m not a malum?”
“I haven’t said anything,” the dragon said. “You are, but it’s complicated.”
“Okay...” My malum status was new, but something I’d grabbed onto to hold myself steady. Inside, a tiny part of me floundered, as if the floor had dropped out from beneath me. As a malum, I’d had my first sense of self, something I hadn’t been able to cling to since I’d been little and my dad had shoved me away before stroking his ‘real’ daughter’s hair. I’d never resented Cece for having something that would never be mine, but I’d always hoped to find my place in life. As crazy as it sounded, I’d thought I’d found it in being a malum. And now I felt as if someone was trying to steal it away. “What do you mean by complicated? Explain.”
The dragon’s red eyes flashed before they fell on Rhys. “Why don’t you ask the guardian?” Jumping off the turret, the dragon flew toward us, though it remained inside the painting.
Wind swept through the room, sending the dust bunnies fleeing. It lifted my hair and whipped it around my head.
As if the swirling air didn’t touch him, Rhys bent toward the painting, pressing his face closer. The dragon flew toward him, its wings smacking, its claws extended. Just before it would’ve left the painting and hit him, it put on the brakes. Flames roared from its open mouth.
The fire hit Rhys in the face, and he shuddered.
I leaped on top of him and dragged him down to the floor. We tumbled through the grime and smacked into a bureau. It teetered but remained upright.
“What the hell was that?” Rhys said, climbing to his feet. He tugged me up beside him.
“The dragon…” My gaze was drawn to the painting that now showed only a castle and cliffs. No beast to be found. “It was there, right?”
&n
bsp; “We weren’t talking to each other.” He brushed off his clothing.
“What do you think it meant about my malum status?”
“No idea.” He raked the back of his neck. “Why do you think it called me a guardian?”
“It somehow knows your family’s old role.”
“Which we lost ages ago.” His brows drew together. “But wait, I just thought of something.”
“I think we should leave.” Before anything else happened. I edged toward the entrance. Fortunately, the door remained open. “This place is freaking me out. And we need to find Wolfy.”
“I need to get to that book.” He strode around me, almost running for the door. “The one about guardians.”
We started down the hall. Behind us, the door to the attic slammed closed.
“Wolfy!” I called, suddenly desperate to find him. He would set this right. He would tell me I was still a malum. No reply, so I tried in my mind. Wolfy!
The silence between us stretched wider than the Grand Canyon.
“You mentioned those dresses,” Rhys said, skidding to a stop beside the door with the closet.
Part of me wanted to keep on running, not stopping until I reached my room, but the last thing I wanted to do was come back up here again—near the attic—to retrieve the gowns. My need to find my sentinel friend was expanding inside me. If I didn’t talk to him soon, I’d explode.
I hurried into the room, swept the dresses off the bed, and rejoined Rhys in the hall.
“All set?” he asked.
“For a long time. Let’s get out of here.”
We left the hallway, and as we got further away from the attic, my shoulders loosened. My spine stopped twitching.
“This place is one scary episode after another,” I huffed out.
“Except…”
Turning, I peered back at him. “Except what?”
“It flew at me.”
“The dragon.”
“And it shot flames in my direction.”
“Saw that. Tackled you to help.”
He lifted his eyebrows.
“You’re lucky it didn’t fry off your nose,” I said.
“The flames did hit me.”
I grabbed his arm and tugged him close, where I scrutinized his face. “No blisters.”
Rogue Reformatory: Broken (Supernatural Misfits Academy Book 2) Page 14
