Royals of Villain Academy 8: Vicious Arts

by Eva Chase

  A more determined energy came over him at my interest. He pulled out the chair and let himself sit down, bracing his elbows on the table. His eyes gleamed with unexpected intensity.

  “It’d be a little tricky, because whatever magic those people in the black clothes put on us, none of us can interact with the world outside the school, even over the computer. But I’m sure I could talk one of you through the steps if you’re willing to be patient and listen. The—the mages or whatever you call yourselves who went off to mess with people, they couldn’t control the entire government or FBI or whatever, right?”

  “Not in any sustained way,” I said. Even the powerful family members who’d gone out on their mission from the barons would have trouble consistently controlling more than a small group to keep up the policy proposals and so on. They’d have to keep meeting with them face to face to renew those spells. The wider-spread chaos, like the violence at the riots, they’d have incited in the moment with the effects quickly fading afterward.

  “Okay. So, I was thinking.” The guy clasped his hands together, looking almost excited now. “I got accepted here because of the computer skills I could show off in public, but I’ve messed around a lot on my own in private too. I’ve broken into a whole lot of government servers just to see if I could. If you know the right tricks— Anyway, everyone’s still awfully on guard against terrorists right now.”

  “Terrorists,” I repeated, still not sure where he was going with this.

  He nodded emphatically. “With enough time, we could get in wherever we need to and set up profiles for the people you want out of the picture on the watch lists and so on. Put in all kinds of red flags that’ll bring the establishment down on their asses. Maybe they could escape getting arrested with their magic, but it’d at least interfere with them getting access to any important political figures. It’d keep them on their toes and distracted. At least, I think it would. It seems worth a try.”

  It was my turn to blink at him. My stomach grumbled, annoyed that I’d delayed filling it, but what this guy was saying… I didn’t totally understand how he’d be able to do it, but he didn’t appear to have any doubts that it was possible.

  If we could sic the entire upper levels of Nary law enforcement on the pricks who were meddling with them, the barons would have a hell of a time seeing the rest of their plan through.

  It sounded a lot more efficient than our own plans so far had been. And it’d come from this wimp of a Nary—who wasn’t coming across as so wimpy now.

  “You know,” I said slowly. “I think you’re right. It’s absolutely worth a try. Let me get through my dinner fast, and I’ll take you to talk this through with the rest of the scions.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Rory

  “Perfect!” Brandon leaned over to check Declan’s progress on the tricked-out laptop he’d lent the Ashgrave scion. They’d been poised side-by-side on the sofa in the Scions’ Guard room for the better part of four hours, painstakingly working through layers of computer defenses I wouldn’t have had a clue what to do with myself.

  To be fair, neither did Declan. He was just following orders, with a bemused expression most of the time.

  The Nary guy consulted the tablet he’d been working on, tapped away on his portable keyboard, and then showed Declan the next lines of code he needed to enter. It’d taken a little trial and error to figure out how he could communicate everything necessary around the blacksuits’ spell, but they’d gotten into a good rhythm by now.

  I sipped the espresso I’d made in the scion lounge in an attempt to keep myself awake for as long as it took to see this scheme through. The hot liquid flooded my mouth.

  Maggie had taken a few members of the Guard off to the side to go over some of the defensive strategies she’d learned from her time working with the blacksuits. Over on the mats, Connar was talking Holden through some Physicality techniques to help bring him up to speed with his magic use. Jude and Noah had just left on a snack run. Malcolm was sitting with his sister, filling her in on some of what we’d been through in our conflict with the barons before now. None of us was offering anything particularly useful, but we all wanted to feel at least somewhat a part of this potentially game-changing development.

  As I drifted from one end of the sofa to the other, doing my best not to distract the two guys in their work, Agnes leaned back in her chair with a yawn. At something Malcolm said, she made a face, but a moment later she got up and left, presumably to catch some sleep. The Nightwood scion ambled over to join me.

  “I found a good one, didn’t I?” he said with a satisfied smile, his gaze lingering on the computer screens.

  I eased back from the sofa, keeping my voice low. “He didn’t know what he could be getting into, coming to you out of all of us,” I teased.

  “Hey, I was perfectly amiable. I listened to him and brought him in, didn’t I?”

  “And it looks like we should all be very grateful for that.” I knuckled his side playfully with my free hand. “Hard to think of people like him as feeble when he can pull off something like this, huh?”

  “It is,” Malcolm said, more seriously than I’d expected. “I guess I didn’t really think about all the things they could be experts in that I don’t have much of a clue about.” He let out a light laugh. “All the better for us. I doubt any of my dad’s or your mother’s lackeys are experienced in computer programming.”

  “They won’t know what hit them. I just hope it hits them hard enough to force them to back down—or at least slow down.”

  “One step at a time. We’re making progress.” He paused. “Maybe there are other ways we could get the Naries involved. Obviously they can’t fight the barons and the rest directly, but—there could be other approaches they’d think of that we haven’t.”

  That wasn’t an admission I’d ever expected to hear Malcolm Nightwood make. “Absolutely. Why don’t we see how this gambit plays out… We can always hope we won’t need any other approaches.”

  Malcolm’s snort showed exactly how likely he thought that was. “Always the optimist,” he said with obvious affection, and stroked his fingers over my hair to tip my head so he could kiss me on the temple.

  Jude and Noah and the Guard member who’d joined them for extra protection returned right then with four bulging grocery bags between them. Brandon claimed his pack of Twizzlers without so much as glancing up from his tablet. Noah dropped Declan’s requested bag of barbeque chips on the sofa beside him. The rest of the loot they spread out on the table near Maggie and her companions.

  I grabbed a cupcake from its plastic tray, needing some sugar to cut through the coffee bitterness. One of the guys from the Guard who’d been talking with Maggie nabbed another. I couldn’t remember his name off the top of my head, but I knew his mother was one of the mages who’d volunteered to travel down to Washington to interfere with the mages who were enacting the barons’ plan.

  “Have you heard anything from your mom?” I asked him.

  He chewed and swallowed the big bite he’d just taken and shook his head. “I think they’re being pretty cautious—better if the other fearmancers don’t realize anyone’s trying to disrupt their spells. Last I heard they were experimenting with different shielding techniques from a distance.”

  “That sounds like a reasonable start, at least.”

  “Yeah.” He glanced toward the sofa. “Are you sure that is a good idea?”

  The note of disdain in his voice made me stiffen. Beside me, Malcolm raised his head with a wary expression, but he gave me room to handle the question.

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” I said, keeping my voice even. Maggie leaned over to grab a handful of Doritos, watching both of us too.

  A flicker of anxiety tickled my chest as the guy groped for his answer. He could tell he might have stepped wrong. “Well, you know—taking a Nary’s advice, when he doesn’t know anything about the politics and everything involved.”

  “I don’t know
,” I said. “I think he knows more about the Nary side of politics than any of us do, and it’s Nary politics the fearmancers are mostly screwing up right now. I’d listen to him over any of us.”

  “But, I mean, I’m not sure any strategy they’d think of would be of much use against the mages out there in the first place.”

  “We’ll find that out, won’t we?” I tilted my head toward Brandon. “He didn’t have to offer us anything at all. Most of the people on campus have been awful to him and his friends for most of the term. But he still reached out when he thought he could help. The least we can do is listen and give him a chance to show what he’s capable of.”

  The guy opened his mouth and then closed it again with a slanted smile. “You know what—you’re totally right. Forget I said anything.”

  I thought I could still read some doubt in his tone, but that was fine. If Brandon knew what he was doing, which as far as I could tell was true, the results of his efforts would erase those doubts soon enough. A couple of the other Guard members glanced over at the sofa with hints of skepticism too, which only made me more hopeful that the Nary guy’s scheme would pan out.

  It wasn’t enough for fearmancers to realize it was cruel to torment those among us without magic. They needed to respect them as people if things in this community were really going to change.

  Brandon gave a muffled shout around the licorice stick he had dangling from his mouth. He pointed to Declan’s screen as he tugged the candy from his lips. “There we go! We’re in.”

  Declan let out a weary laugh and swiped his hand across his forehead. “You did all the real work. I was just your proxy. What’s next?”

  The rest of us gathered around the sofa. Brandon peered at the laptop, telling Declan where to click and a couple more commands to type. Then he glanced back at us. “You’ve got the info on the people we want to target?”

  “Right here.” Malcolm brandished his phone. “I’ll transfer the folder over.”

  All of us heirs had spent the first couple hours while we’d waited working out which fearmancers the barons would have sent out and gathering as much basic information on them as we could. Photographs had been harder to come by, but some of our allies had been able to help with their personal pictures from social gatherings. For a supposed criminal’s profile, I didn’t think anyone would expect a particularly professional-looking portrait.

  We all stayed clustered behind the sofa as Brandon told Declan how to set up the first few records. Holden stepped right up to the front of our group, studying their activities with avid concentration, but Connar hung farther back. He never seemed to trust himself to have much input when it came to situations that were more about mental strength than bodily power.

  Maybe the insecurities that had gripped him the other day had risen back up, despite our interlude with Declan on the cliffside. As I gulped down the last of my cupcake, I moved to join him. The Stormhurst scion slung a companionable arm around my waist, and I happily leaned into him.

  “Pretty amazing what you can do without any magic at all,” he said.

  “It is.” I nudged for him to follow me farther back in the room while the others stayed by the sofa, so we could talk in relative privacy. “How have you been holding up?”

  “Me?” Connar said with a rough laugh. “I should be asking you that. I’m the only one who hasn’t had to deal with hostile family members at all—thanks to your mom, weirdly enough.”

  “I know, but still, this is an awful situation for all of us. And you have the pressure of your inheritance hanging over you.”

  He shrugged, but his mouth twisted a little. “I’m still figuring out how I want to handle that. It won’t really matter until we’ve tackled all the problems the barons are currently making anyway, right?”

  “Of course.” I looked up at him, taking in the perfect contrast between the chiseled planes of his face and the soft gleam of affection that came into his eyes as he gazed back at me. I’d never felt the need to discuss how my feelings for the guys intersected with our political positions except with Jude, because of the position he didn’t really have. That might have been a mistake. I wanted Connar to pursue whatever role made him happy, not what he thought I expected or even required.

  I nestled as close to him as I could while still holding his gaze. “You know it doesn’t matter to me one way or another whether you end up taking the title of baron or not, or how much you’re involved in the pentacle, don’t you?”

  His arms tightened around me. “Rory, you’re allowed to care about that stuff. It wouldn’t be surprising for you to want partners who’ll stand on equal footing with you.”

  “You don’t have to be a baron to be my equal. I love you, the way you are. And if the way you are doesn’t really want that pressure and responsibility after all, then I’ll support whatever you decide to do instead just as much as I’ll speak up for you as baron. I’ve been encouraging you because I don’t want you to give up over worries that you’re not qualified, not because it makes any difference to whether I want to be with you. Okay?”

  A smile crossed his face, small but so bright it lit me up in turn. Without any hesitation about the others in the room who might glance over, he dipped his head and kissed me hard. I kissed him back, letting the heat of his answer radiate through me.

  “Okay,” he murmured when he drew back. “And not that I can imagine you giving up the barony, but just for the record, everything you just said is just as true for my feelings about you.”

  I enjoyed his embrace for a moment longer before reluctantly peeling myself away. We drifted to the refreshments table where I took a handful of chips and then back to the sofa to check what progress had been made.

  The code on the screens looked about the same to me as it had when I’d last considered it. As I scanned the lines for clues to their function, a thread of uneasiness trickled into my chest. Not my own—someone else’s passing into me, as if I’d unnerved them.

  I glanced around, but no one in the room was even looking at me now. Brandon was too focused on the work for me to think he’d be nervous about me standing there. I didn’t think I was acting at all threatening anyway. Even the guy I’d had that brief argument with seemed absorbed in watching the scheme come together.

  Maybe someone not even here had simply thought about something I’d said or done a little while back and that had provoked some kind of discomfort. The benefit we got from generating fear lingered, even if it made me uncomfortable to think that I’d unsettled someone that much.

  The sensation didn’t fade, though. If anything, it expanded. Mostly all I caught were little flickers of nerves, but here and there a sharper prickling of fear ran through me. What the hell was going on?

  I couldn’t just stand around ignoring it. Maybe something really was wrong elsewhere on campus, even if it didn’t appear to be affecting any of the other scions. I hesitated and then leaned toward Maggie to whisper, “I’m going up to the dorm for a minute. Just need to check something.”

  She considered my expression. “Is everything okay?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ll let you all know if it isn’t, as soon as I figure that out.”

  I hurried up the stairs, nudging the door open on each landing to check the hall for any signs of a disturbance. The flow of fear continued to rise and ebb behind my collarbone. My store of magical energy thrummed with it.

  I didn’t see anything unusual. Most of the halls were empty and quiet, dimmed in recognition of the late hour. I came into my own dorm even more confused than before.

  The common room was empty other than Morgan perched in one of the armchairs with her legs drawn up. She had the book I’d bought for her open against her knees. At the swing of the door, she flinched—and another jolt of energy with the same flavor as before tingled into me. Huh.

  When I hesitated just past the threshold, a flush colored her cheeks. She tucked the book close to her chest. “Not your fault that you startled me. I just g
ot caught up in the story. It’s a really creepy one. That’s why I’m reading out here. It feels a little brighter and less spooky even with no one else around.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said with a laugh, but a quiver of a suspicion rose up in the back of my head. I crossed the room as if I’d only meant to head to the kitchen anyway. “You go ahead and keep reading.”

  She rolled her shoulders and swiped her hand across her mouth as if suppressing a yawn. “I really should get to bed soon. But I’m almost at the end of this chapter… Hey, is Brandon doing his thing? I’m so glad I told him to talk to you guys.”

  I grinned at her. “Yes, he’s been a lot of help. We’ll have to wait and see how it all pans out, but he obviously knows his stuff.”

  “Oh, yeah.” The color in her cheeks came back. Between that and her tone, I wondered if she didn’t have a bit of a crush on the guy.

  I poked around in the fridge while she went back to her book. Within a matter of seconds, that quiet but distinctive trickle of fear returned, seeping into my chest. It did feel just like the jolt I’d gotten when I’d startled Morgan—but then, different people’s fear didn’t usually feel all that different, so that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

  After a few minutes during which I nibbled on an apple, Morgan closed the book and gave a little shudder. “So good,” she said. “Hopefully my dreams don’t get too crazy after that. Good night!”

  “‘Night.”

  I watched her head into her bedroom. No nervousness was prickling into me now. I waited, polishing off the apple, but the sensation didn’t return.

  Interesting. It did make sense, just not in a way I’d considered before. The book had been scaring her, and I’d gotten the book for her, so technically I’d brought about that fear. It never would have occurred to me that fearmancer magic worked that way, but I had all the evidence I needed to believe it now.