Power of Fire: An Academy Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (The Broken Academy)

by Jade Alters

  Before I know it, I’ve crossed my legs to keep myself in check, and class is over. Before I know it, I’m on my way back to D Wing, but not to my room.

  Serge,

  The Broken Academy, D Wing

  I sigh as I toss my pan full of thin-cut tofu slivers into the air. Just the way Mom taught me - with confidence. My wrist is strong from doing this a million times, from keeping traditional plates of my people from burning to the pan. Years back, a few of my tofu chunks might have splattered on the floor. That’s alright, Mom would say, fail with confidence, and you’ll succeed with it too. Now, however, each and every orange-tinted shred cyclones back down into my scalding pan. I slide the soy and veggies around with a few quick shuffles and dash some saffron over the top. Yet another priceless Dalshak family secret. I sigh. It’s downright annoying how tasty it is, or I would have abandoned cooking the dish years ago, along with all the others. For now, though, I keep my curried tofu swirling in the pan with one hand while the other turns the pages of my Mystical History notes without touching it. I graze over Fey Hartgen’s review from across the counter at hardly half attention. This is my third year as her assistant - she should figure I’d know all this by now.

  Just then, three sharp knocks jostle my afternoon routine. I stop my pan short of its swish, and a piece of tofu pops out, into the open flame of my stove. Its sizzle spits fragrant smoke up into the air.

  “Dammit,” I mutter to myself. I thought I might get away without cleaning up today. A flick of my fingers condenses the light from my half-open windows into a little spoon, which I use to fling the scalded tofu chunk back up into my pan. I switch the burner off and wave a hand to slam my notebook as I leave the stove for my door. It’s the first time this term anyone’s knocked on my door. I pride myself on the punctuality of toiletry deliveries, and my Room Monitoring Amulet ensures that I know about problems long before they come to me. There’s also the fact that no one comes to their Wing Supervisor, at least not the one in D Wing. I swing my door in to find a face I’ve thought about more than any other in my Wing, but expected to see at my door least of any.

  “Hey- damn that smells good,” Cece amends whatever she was going to say the second my room’s aroma furls out around her face. She scrunches up her nose to track the source over my shoulder. If I was an inch to her right, I’m sure she’d walk right inside with me. “What is that… Coriander? No… Saffron?”

  “Is that…a Dragon sense?” I chuckle. I chuckle? I can’t be out here chuckling with my Wing Residents. I do my best to tame my lips, but one corner rebels in a little curl.

  “More like a Cece sense. My Mom and Dad both loved to cook. Seems like you do, too,” Cece says to me. She stands up on her tiptoes to peer inside my room. If it were any other eyes than those big blues, I might feel pried on. Without exactly knowing why, though, I don’t mind her looking in. Maybe I want her to see some of the man behind the Magician, behind the Wing Supervisor.

  “Yeah…traditions die hard in my family. Very hard,” I tell her. Cece gives me a little nod, then folds her fingers together behind her back. She kicks a foot out in front of her like a child, searching for words in the air. Despite myself, I, too, like a child, sweep my eyes left and right to see if there are actually words hanging around me. “Is there…something you needed?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Cece juggles whatever it is she doesn’t want to spit out. She does, however, finally bring her eyes up to mine. “Can I come in?”

  “Sorry, I only made enough curry for one,” I tell her, hoping she’ll catch the drift. It’s not that I don’t want her to come in. Actually, I think I might, which is precisely why she can’t.

  “That’s alright, I just want to-”

  “I’m sorry, Cece,” I stop her from squeezing past me through the door with a hand on her collar, “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Considering our history.”

  “Oh,” Cece breathes. The disappointment in her voice sits like acid on my cheek. But then she pops up one of her eyebrows. “Wait. You’re afraid of me?”

  “Afraid? No,” I clear up. How could I be so stupid? Of course her brain would go there automatically. The girl’s probably had people cowering in fear before her for her entire life. “I mean the Council won’t like you spending time in my room, considering the incidents I’ve had to report. They’ll think I’m favoring you.” It’s only a minor twist from the truth. There’s really only one of the Six that would care, and he wouldn’t worry so much about favoritism. Horace Dalshak would lose it if he caught wind that his son was inviting delinquents in his room. I’d be accused of taking advantage before I could blink.

  “Well, then…could you maybe come out?” Cece dares to ask. A rose hue brushes itself across her tan cheeks that looks like it belongs anywhere else.

  “What’s this about, Cece? Out with it,” I encourage her. She digs her heels in for a long, deep breath.

  “It’s about…what you said the other day. You said you know more about how powerful I am than I do. But I…I can’t control it. At all. I don’t feel powerful,” Cece confesses. The way each word deflates her usually puffed chest makes me want to melt right alongside her. I can afford to put the Dalshak mantle aside for a second. Long enough to smirk and say:

  “This is the most round-about way anyone’s ever asked me on a date.”

  “What? I-I wasn’t… I didn’t…” Cece struggles, before folding into laughter at her own incoherence.

  “This could either be a long conversation with the Council that probably won’t help you, or…it could be a nice walk later, where I show you something I probably shouldn’t. Something that probably can help you,” I tell her. It’s crossed my mind more than once, as someone who’s known the Academy’s older methods of ability exposure. We used to have more students like Cece then.

  “Are you blackmailing me?” Cece cocks her head at me. A smirk pokes through the layer of disappointment, so unwelcome on her fierce face.

  “I believe you came to me for help, Cece. But I won’t report a thing- not the incident earlier or this little visit - if you meet me in the courtyard at six-thirty,” I invite her. My eyebrows lift up on my forehead expectantly. I watch her tumble the idea around inside her skull. She crosses one muscular leg behind the other. She bites the very corner of her lip. When she finally comes to a decision, it escapes her in a whisper.

  “The…D Wing courtyard?” Cece asks.

  “Six-thirty. I’ll see you then,” I tell her. I step back and grasp my doorknob. The last thing I see as the hall light vanishes behind my door is her big-eyed grin.

  When the ornamental, inch-thick panel of wood separates us, neither of us walks away from it immediately. I linger with my hand on the door, fingers sliding down while I listen for footsteps. Cece stays just as long as I do. I imagine her fingers just on the other side, an inch apart, yet untouchable. I wonder if she’s waiting for the same thing I am - for her to throw the door back open and say the one thing neither of us would dare. There are more reasons than power we’re so entranced by one another. I can feel it.

  What remains to be seen, at least until six-thirty, is which one matters most.

  Serge,

  The Broken Academy, D Wing Courtyard

  It’s been a long while since a girl has sweated me out like this. Long enough that I could be mistaking a rejection for a mere tease. It’s not that I’ve been flooded with paramours, either. I’ve had precious little chance to explore relationships since I started my official Academy education. Since I’ve been in the public supernatural eye. It makes me think back on my naïve younger, celibate years with certain disdain. I was always so sure Father or Mother would catch me, if I snuck out to visit some girl they didn’t approve first. I had no idea how loose a watch or lenience they had with me then, compared to the one they have now, at the Academy where they work. Between Mother’s faculty connections as a professor and Father’s authority as a member of the Six, they could drop in on me with the eyes of others
at any time, and I’d probably never know. It’s part of the reason I can’t stop counting time with my nervous foot while I wait for Cece to appear. The time for sneaking around, having any sort of fun, had come and gone while I was too busy spitting back the family credo.

  It’s six-forty by the time I pause toe-tapping to check my watch. The silver hands tick past silver dashes without a single number on its black face. Light and darkness, just like a Magician’s expertise. Simple, just the way most Magicians like it. I sigh and start counting backward from five minutes. That’s how long Cece has to take me up on my offer. It’s already ten minutes past cafeteria closing. Soon, it’ll be suspicious that I’m standing around by myself in the courtyard. Soon, I’ll have to leave whether it’s a tease or a rejection.

  “Hey, sorry,” Cece calls out from behind a stony pillar in the corner of the gardens. She slinks out into the open, probably sensing how uneasy I am. It’s never been easy for the average person to sense much about me, but I get the feeling Cece is starting to peek under the mask. It excites me as much as it terrifies me. “River was out of the room this afternoon, so I figured it was a good time to paint, but then I made myself a mess, and…” Cece trails off to a mumble as the explanation winds on. “Yeah, excuses. Sorry - I’m here now.” I snort at the sudden formality. What kind of face am I making to make her so stiff? I try to shake it off for a smile, with a dash of honesty from my rarest stash.

  “What are you, reporting for duty?” I tease. It takes Cece a second to register the comment as a joke, when her eyes finally twinkle with a light I haven’t seen before. Instantly, I’m glad for every one of the ten minutes I waited up for her. “If I wanted to talk as your Wing Supervisor, I’d have done it in our hallway. You don’t have to be so…tight.”

  “How should I be, then?” Cece counters with a suggestive squint, “How do you want to talk to me?” Touché. Now I’m the one whose a little tight. I shake it off with a little grin.

  “Just come with me,” I say into a turn, and motion for her to follow. Cece glides to my side. I feel a warmth squeeze between my arm and my ribs with surprising strength. I turn in shock to find Cece’s arm hooked through my own. She ignores my eyes as we begin to walk.

  “Lead the way,” she murmurs. I do my best to relax, despite the instant feeling of being watched. Cece and I make our way through corridors of enormous blossoms and spiraling ferns from the garden. Plants that have no business growing so large or in such patterns weave and pop with the guidance of the Academy’s fledgling Witches and Warlocks. I watch Cece run a wandering finger over a massive, curvy orange petal as we wade through on a cobblestone path. I wish I could see through those huge blue eyes, to look at everything with the wonder that’s taken the place of rage in them.

  By the time we reach the far side of the courtyard, my muscles have loosened to a comfortable hang. Cece’s cheek rests on my shoulder. Warmth emanates from her like a furnace. It seeps through my clothes and clings to my skin like my favorite blanket in winter. We reach the door under a high stone arch in the corner of the courtyard, and I find myself wishing it was further away. Cece stares into its glossy, rich ruby planks while I rifle in my pockets for the key.

  “What, you can’t just trick it open?” she asks while I fit the big iron key in the door. The purple gem on the ring at the end of it glints in the lantern light above us.

  “Not this one. There are only a few scattered throughout the Academy, and each Wing Supervisor has their own unique key to open them,” I explain. I click the key in a full rotation to the right, then push it in deeper, then turn it left. A flash of violet light simmers from the gaps around the keyhole for a moment. When the show is over, the door clicks open. I reverse the process to remove the key and drop it back in my pocket.

  “So…like one door for each Supervisor?” Cece asks.

  “No, I can open any of them… It looks like a standard key and lock, but think of it like an ID card scanner,” I tell her, “Each key has a unique energy signature spelled to it. Getting it in there is only part of the process. If the person holding it doesn’t match the signature of the key, the door will detect that, and won’t open.”

  “Serge…where the hell are you taking me?” Cece surprises me with. She rolls her cheek across my shoulder to turn her eyes on mine.

  “Up,” I tell her, as my free hand swings the red door wide. Inside is a steep, stony staircase. It takes a hard left after a short rise, making it impossible to see the whole way up. Cece stares up into the hungry darkness until I lead her forward by the arm. The red door shuts on its own behind us.

  The staircase is just wide enough for us to walk up side by side. We take the first turn into another short rise, lit by an eternal torch hanging on the wall. Before long, we turn again, and again, until we’ve climbed almost the height of the whole Academy. At the top of the firelit stairs is another red door, and another keyhole. I unlock it like the last, and crack it open. Scarlet light slices in as a ray, then spreads wide to a searing fan as I swing the door in. For just a second, Cece and I lose sight of one another while our eyes adjust. I feel her body heat with excitement against me until I can see her again. When we step forward, into the light, Cece’s cheeks lift under the push of a huge grin.

  “Holy… Serge, we’re allowed up here?” she asks. Her arm slips out of mine. Cece wanders forward along the top of the high wall around the Broken Academy. This one circles the D Wing courtyard, before joining with the central one that encloses the whole place.

  “I am, for evening rounds. There’s…nothing in the rules that explicitly forbids my bringing a guest,” I tell her. I try to sound as confident as I want Cece to feel, but I can’t deny it’s a risk. If anyone caught a glimpse of us, from the ground, or from one of the other Wing’s walls… But I’m not here to worry about risk. Not this time.

  “This is… I don’t know what to say,” Cece mutters. She races to the edge of the Academy, hands on the stony ramparts without an ounce of fear. She leans forward to look over the landscape of California thousands of feet below us. I stroll over beside her. I lean over, something I haven’t done in years, since this place became a mere part of my daily routine. Next to Cece, I see it all like it’s the first time again.

  The dry, rocky hills. The valleys full of forests so thick and rich, they become jade stains on the earth. Rivers that splinter the rises and falls into hundreds of pieces. High, silver towers full of people who think they’re on top of the world glint in the scarlet sundown. The glaring sapphire eternity of the Ocean, which looks so impossibly calm from up here. The sharp teeth of the land that rise up from it in baked coastal bluffs. It’s all too much to take in at once, especially for the first time. I watch Cece’s wide eyes flit back and forth from one natural wonder to the next.

  Over the next few seconds I savor, watching her take it all in, I identify a certain pattern. No matter what pulls her attention in fascination this way or that, I notice one place she keeps coming back to. The waterside island metropolis we found her in. San Francisco. Cece’s eyes wander up and down the stream of light that connects the Academy to the city.

  “How much have you learned here about the Tethers that hold up the Academy?” I ask.

  “Besides what Fey Hartgen has to say? Nothing,” Cece tells me, eyes still sweeping her vast homeland.

  “Well, you know about the one near where you came from, right?”

  “Yeah… The San Andreas Fault, right?” Cece confirms. I watch her eyes glide down the light stream to the wellspring of natural energy.

  “Right,” I nod. I lean over her shoulder, hand on her back to guide her to each of the others, as I name them. “That one there, if you follow the light down to the coast. That’s Big Sur, another one of the Tethers. There’s a school for young Magicians near there.”

  “Is that… Did you go there, before the Academy?” asks Cece. She turns to meet my eyes as I nod. We’re inches away again. I wonder if she wants as badly as I suddenly do, to cl
ose the gap.

  “Then that one, over there. Yeah, the one in the middle of all that forest. That’s Six Rivers National Forest. The Witches and Warlocks train there, and many of them live in ancestral homes out there. There’s more natural energy there than any of the other Tethers.”

  “That one, next to that tiny little town. That’s Yosemite Village. Most Shifters live right by the Tether there, on the Ahwahneechee Reservation,” I tell her. Cece leans into me to get a better look to my side, or maybe for some other reason.

  “Are…all Shifters Native American?” she asks.

  “Most. Far as we know, the gene for it is hereditary in their Tribe,” I explain. “That, there, is Point Arena. Aside from the Tether, there’s also an old Academy research facility under the city. That’s where the old Council let Shadewalkers into our realm, years ago.”

  “So…each of these Tethers is tied to one of the races at the Academy?” Cece notices. My eyes brighten at the conclusion. To say her ability to think so critically, while also knowing all the right ways to press her body against mine, is impressive does no justice for my feeling at the moment.

  “Yes,” I tell her, “And that one, there…” I turn Cece around to point down the last line of light at a few arid mountains on the darkening horizon.

  “The Sierra Nevadas,” Cece realizes, before I have the chance. She lets herself fall backward, leaving me no choice but to support her. She slides up to fit the curve of her waist inside of mine like a puzzle piece. Warmth fills out the triangular cradle of my pelvis. A new pulse of blood there threatens to embarrass me, or ruin the moment, but Cece doesn’t seem to mind. She just adjusts her position to squeeze my muscle between her butt cheeks.

  “That’s…where Dragons go to train,” I manage to tell her what I planned, despite the sudden race of thoughts through my mind. Among them are, she wants this? Why? What the hell am I doing? and she’s one of my residents!