The Mage’s Revenge (Crescent Moon Academy Book 2)

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The Mage’s Revenge (Crescent Moon Academy Book 2) Page 15

by CY Jones


  I don’t care about being safe. I can take care of myself, but I don’t reply to that. Instead, I respond, “Even so, he could have found a way to let me know he’s okay and safe. What if his wound was fatal? He could be dead in a ditch somewhere, alone.”

  “Stop letting your imagination run a mockery of your thoughts. Didn’t your mage tell you he healed your father’s familiar, and it flew away safely? As long as the familiar is alive, so is its master.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know you’re right, but I still, I can’t help worrying.”

  “If you don’t sleep, I’ll call your grandfather here to spell you,” he threatens.

  “Archer,” I gasp. “How could you betray your Master like that?”

  “It’s not betrayal if it’s for your own good,” he replies matter-of-factly. “Now, sleep, and trust that I’ll watch over you and make sure you come to no harm.”

  On the last of his words, I drift off like he himself spelled me. With heavy lids, I follow the darkness into oblivion and a dreamless sleep.

  The next morning, I actually wake on time, if not earlier than I normally do when I have school. After I finished getting ready, Archer already had a simple breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, and tea sitting on the table ready for me to devour. I hope today will go by smoothly, but I know as soon as the heirs see me, they’re going to bombard me with questions. Besides what I said to Zion when he scalded me, I haven’t talked to anyone else about why I did what I did. Maybe it was my embarrassment that kept me tight-lipped. I’m sure if I had succeeded, I would have been boastful about my conquest, rubbing it in Zion’s smug face and not hiding out in my cabin, avoiding people like a recluse.

  I wonder if people in school know what happened? I haven’t heard from my grandfather, but I suspect he’s busy trying to pacify the Council since they haven't kicked my door in yet. I’m not that dense. Even I’m afraid of the Council. Father always lectured us to never make an enemy out of them. They may govern us, but the same rules us mages have to follow do not apply to them. They are judgement, which may be weird to classify them as, but I can’t think of a better word to describe them.

  “Are you finished? We should get going if you want to make it to class in time,” Archer says, appearing beside me.

  With a nod, I place my empty plate in the sink and hurry to grab my bag so we can leave. I’m already in enough trouble. I rather not add anymore misdeeds, like being constantly late for example to my list of crimes.

  My schedule isn’t the same as when my brother and I first came to this school. From what I was told by my grandfather, our classes are perfectly tailored to our individual magical styles. Before I learned the truth about myself, my classes were the standard studies since I chose to explore more of my voodoo magic with other dark mages and not my harlequin powers on the light mage campus with my brother. Who knew my foresight was so spot on. Turns out, I’m not a harlequin at all, but just raised as one when my birth mom left me with her longtime friend and true love to raise me as his own so that she could hide me from my real father. Now I know why I had so much trouble adapting. Why everything dealing with being a harlequin was so hard for me. Why it seemed like I was being left behind by my brother and caught in a stand-still. The odd man out. The powers of voodoo and a manipulator run in my blood, not those of a harlequin.

  Sometimes, that thought makes me sad. For nineteen years, I have been trying so hard to be something I’m not. Blamed for crimes I didn’t commit and hated because of my very existence. I wonder if Leslie, my step mom, knows that I now know the truth. I’m tempted to have Archer take me to our family home just so I can flash her a cheeky fuck you with double digits. For years, she charged me with the crime of breaking up her family and treated me like dirt. She deserves more than a fuck you. Something like a kick in the face or around those lines.

  None of the heirs are in my first class, which I’m not surprised by. It focuses mostly on identifying and reading auras and consists of a whopping five students since the ability is not one a lot of mages have. My grandfather has this ability, and until recently, he has been the one teaching me when I first took time off school to recuperate. Now that I think of it, ever since I learned I was a Morganstein, I haven’t really spent much time learning at the academy but tucked away behind closed doors, away from the prying eyes of others.

  “Miss Morganstein, explain the factors of someone who gives off a grey aura?” our teach, Mr. Catseeth, asks.

  With my head propped in my head, I was close to falling asleep, which is probably the reason why he decided to call on me. To my left, I hear a snicker and slowly move my eyes in that direction, which makes the guilty party sink low in her seat. I’m glad my time away has done nothing to diminish my reputation. Everyone is still frightened of me.

  With a wicked smile, I stand and answer, “Those who give off a grey aura usually have a hidden intent or are possibly concealing a hidden power. Grey also can represent null or void. A deep sense of emptiness or the contradictory, a vastness that can’t be explained.”

  “Correct.” Mr. Catseeth smiles and I sit back down. When he calls on someone else, my mind drifts again until the ringing of the bell, signaling the end of class, snaps me out of it.

  My next class goes the same as my first except there’s more people, but still no heirs. From roll call, Kirito is supposed to be in this class, but I guess he’s skipping. I wonder if he’s still surveilling Crimson Blood Academy, or did he somehow know I’ll be coming to school today and is avoiding me. I hope it’s the former and not the latter.

  The morning passes quickly, and it isn’t until after lunch that I finally meet up with the heirs. Both Oli and Ryker are standing outside the door of my next class with twin Colgate smiles plastered on their gorgeous faces.

  “Well, hello there, darling, no time no see,” Oli says, greeting me sarcastically.

  I wince at his accurate accusation, but I still can’t help but to smile. I’m actually happy to see them. “Why are you two standing outside the door of my class like toy soldiers? Do you two also have Magical Defense this period?” I ask, curious.

  “Unfortunately no,” Ryker answers. “We heard a rumor that a certain voodoo mage came to school today, so we had to see for ourselves if the rumors were true and not just someone’s figment of their imagination.”

  “It’s me, in the flesh,” I answer. I said they look like toy soldiers blocking the door, but that’s not the proper analogy. Their good looks aside, both are built like tanks with wide bodies, trimmed and perfect with muscles on top of muscles. Standing in the doorway, they both look intimidating as fuck, which causes those yet to go in to stand out in the hall, shifting their feet, awkwardly. Having pity on those poor souls, I pull the twins aside and out of the way.

  “What’s your guy’s deal? I thought you heirs would have rushed me this morning. Who knew half a day would go by before I’m finally approached?” My words are light, but the meaning behind them is accusatory. Usually I’m the one trying to avoid them and not the other way around. I’m not liking this new development. “I’m used to at least one of you overbearing males in each of my classes, and besides second period, which Kirito skipped, my classes have been surprisingly heir free so far.”

  “Kirito didn’t come to class?” Oli says, frowning.

  “So he is avoiding me,” I interpret his shock, causing my heart to sink like the Titanic. “I thought he was still on surveillance at Crimson Blood and didn’t come to school today.”

  “I don’t think he’s avoiding you, he’s just,” Oli starts before he stops mid-sentence, leaving me hanging.

  “He’s just what?” I prod with narrow eyes. Sure, I have no room to talk since I’ve been avoiding them, but it’s different when you’re handed your own foul tasting medicine.

  “Give him time,” Ryker answers for his brother after they share one of their twin dodgy looks. I know all about those looks. Quinn and I used to do it all the time as we carried on a conversatio
n with our eyes.

  “Fuck that. Give him time from what? I get I ran off without telling anyone and almost got myself killed, but geez, I’m sure Zion told you guys why I did it and that I apologized. And yes, I’ve been avoiding you these last couple of days, but I really was recuperating mind and body. Treating me like this is so… so childish. How old is he?” Yes, I know this rant of mine is unjustified, but I can’t help it. I’m mad, damn it. How dare that asshat catch me off-guard and unsettle me more than I already am?

  “Doll, don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Oli comments.

  “No,” I pout. That’s a lie. The answer is yes, but I won’t be telling them that.

  Ryker sighs as he simultaneously pulls me into his chest, and I inhale his cool refreshing scent. He smells like peppermints and, like a balm, it does wonders to soothe my heated temperament. Immediately, my anger seeps out of me like steam hitting the open air, and I practically deflate against him. Oli comes behind me, the heat of his skin reminding me that he’s here too and he kisses the top of my head like a gentle parent.

  “Right now, Kirito has a lot on his mind. Problems he needs to face and battles he alone can fight. Like you, I’m sure when he’s ready, he’ll let you in,” Ryker explains, and I can’t argue with his words. I can’t lie to myself and say I don’t understand. Haven’t I been doing the same? Across from us, someone who must be tired of living, shouts, “Get a room.” But before we can catch who it was, they disappear into the gym like the spineless coward they are.

  “Would you like for me to come to class with you?” Oli offers. “Both Kirito and Zion have this period with you, but I’m not sure if either are coming. I know Zion is busy with his father, and you’ve already said Kirito skipped class this morning.

  “You wouldn’t mind?” I ask, smiling. It's not like I need a babysitter, but having someone around to keep my temper in check doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Already, I want to call out the shameless coward who slunk in class and teach them a lesson in manners. If you don’t want to see couples flirting in the halls, then close your damn eyes, or else I’ll close them for you by sewing your lids shut. Neat tiny stitches in perfect X’s and blood dripping down skin sounds like a good time to me.

  “Of course not. Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand, dragging me inside, and interrupting my fantasy.

  Chapter 13

  Kirito

  I’ve been holed up in my room for days now with an unlimited supply of Jack Daniels to keep me company. It takes a lot to get me drunk, and I can’t even remember the last time I was sober. Someone pounding on my door wakes me from my drunken slumber, and I sit up in a dizzy haze. The sunlight streaming through the slits in my curtains burns my eyes, and once my blurry vision clears, I glare at my door like it’s the enemy. There’s only a handful of people who have the balls to come knock on my door like that and disturb me.

  “Go away,” I growl, throwing the empty bottle laying carelessly beside me at the door. I didn’t curb my strength either and the force of my throw causes the bottle to shatter, raining tiny bits of glass and liquor staining the hardwood floor. Ignoring my outburst, Milo flashes in my room, completely obliterating my wards. “I thought I told you to go away,” I grumble, annoyed.

  Completely unbothered by my outburst and lack of excitement at seeing him, he takes a seat at my desk and calmly says, “She came to school today.”

  Hearing this makes me pause my next attack and my ears to perk up, but then I remember why I started drinking in the first place, and I get pissed all over again. “Why are you telling me this? Shouldn’t you be informing her future mate?” The last word leaves my mouth like I tasted something bad, and the aftertaste is still stuck deep in my throat, imprinting on my memory.

  “I’m sure he already knows, but it’s you who I wanted to see.”

  “Why?” I ask, taking the bait. Milo doesn’t do anything without reason. If he’s here now, he has some sort of purpose. I forget I’m not alone. These feelings. This rage is a shared burden.

  “I know you’re mad, but you’re taking your anger out on the wrong person.”

  “I’m taking it out on exactly the right person,” I shout, interrupting him. “Come on now. You, out of all people, should know how opinionated Zion is. How self-important he thinks he is. The noose around his neck is a whole lot looser than the one around ours. If his father tells him to do anything he doesn’t want to do, then he simply won’t do it. It’s that plain and simple for him. After Violet deserted his ass and then came back, he went out of his way to inform everyone he was calling off his engagement. That he refuses to do anything his father tells him from now on, but now… just because it’s her…” I cut off, refusing to finish the thought. “He won’t refute his father’s orders. He acted like he didn’t even like Angelica in the beginning, but now, just like that, everything has changed.” My voice is strained. Pained yet vibrating with anger. My own jealousy wants to swallow me whole, along with the emotions I’ve been trying to drown in liquor these past couple of days. Everything in me wants to break free and run rampant, wreaking havoc on everything it comes across.

  “You’re right. It’s because of her he won’t refuse, but that statement itself has two different meanings.”

  “Pardon me? I’m not following,” I say, still fuming.

  He sighs heavily, but it’s not condescending. “Yes, it is true he disliked Angelica in the beginning, but that doesn’t mean he was never attracted to her. He tried to fight it at first, but just like with the rest of us, and how we easily fell, denying his feelings for her was a losing battle from the get-go. Angelica is special. The type of female you’ll never forget. One you could never refuse. Despite how long it took for him to get his shit together, him being with her was inevitable. He was always meant to play a part in her story just like you, me, and the twins.”

  “I get that. I really do. I get that she’s special and he wants her and can’t be without her. I feel exactly the same, but the bastard wants to be greedy and take her all for himself and leave nothing for the rest of us. His father ordering him to be her mate is nothing more than a convenient excuse. Do you really think a guy like him can share?”

  “And that brings me to the second meaning. You’re right. I know how much Zion hates following his father’s orders. Hell, following orders period, but it’s because of Angelica, he’s going through with this. Just think about it. Do you really think these future plans were made by his father alone? He was the one to tell Morganstein his daughter was alive. Everyone knows Morganstein and the Council aren’t strangers. It's even been said that he has power over the Council. After that little stunt she pulled at Crimson Blood, the mess she made for herself, she’s not exactly in the position to deny her father anything. When he orders her to be Zion’s mate, do you really think she has a choice? What do you think Morganstein will do to her if she refuses? Do to her grandfather? Zion is just trying to make this fucked up situation easier on her and not cause any more ripples in an already raging tide.”

  “There’s no point. Agreeing to all this is a wasted effort. Knowing her personality, do you really think she’s going to play the good little mage and do as her father says?” I ask dubiously.

  “No, I don’t, and neither does Zion, which is why he’s prepared to be the bad guy.”

  I stay silent, thinking over his words. When my kitten finds out what’s going on, she’s going to flip. Angelica has no filter what-so-ever. She’s a psychotic, yet beautiful song that screams at you without really screaming. A melody that makes you want to turn away, but it’s all so alluring that you can’t help but to get lured in anyways. I can see why Zion would take on all the risks for her, but he has to know this is a gamble where he can’t read the cards, and this time, I’m not sure if luck is on his side. Angelica is too willful. When the storm brews in, he’s going to get swept along with her wrath, and I’m not sure he’ll be able to come back from it. He’s already done too much for and against her. An
gelica is forgiving, but everyone has their limits, and as soon as she is told she has no choice but to be his mate, she’ll feel betrayed all over again and put him in the same boat as hers and his fathers. Gleefully, she’ll kick a hole in the bottom and with a manic smile watch as it sinks.

  “Poor bastard,” I mumble, feeling a tad bit better. Since I heard the news about them, this is the first time I’ve actually felt pity for the asshole. The grass may be greener on the other side, but it’s still covered in weeds. From afar, it looks like nothing is wrong, but once you get closer, all the flaws start to show. “Did he tell her what the healer said?” I ask after a while.

  “No, but Kirito, I’ve been thinking about this a lot. Do you still agree that he should be the one to tell her?”

  “Not really, but he said he’ll take care of it. I mean, we argued about this already and finally agreed to let him handle it. Why are you second guessing the decision now?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I don’t feel right letting him take the full brunt of the burden. It’s all our fault that she got hurt in the first place. We should have kept a closer eye on her.”

  “What? Like a criminal?” I laugh. “Angelica is Angelica. We are who we are. We’re all grown here and can make our own decisions. Yes, she let Zion’s temper get the best of her, but it was her choice to go off to Crimson Blood alone. Now, she’s paying the price.”

  “Not just her, Zion too,” he clarifies.

  “Yeah, well, it’s a fucked up situation all around, but I’ve realized that fate is making it so that it can only be him. We can only watch from the sidelines and pray to the Goddess everything turns out okay,” I reply, opening a new bottle of Jack and taking a long draw straight from the bottle.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you right,” he stands, staring me down. The black void in his eyes sober me more than this conversation, and I can’t help feeling bad and a tad bit annoyed. It’s like we’re a couple of females talking about our feelings. “Do you think this is funny? All your life you’ve lived it like everything’s a joke. I have to say, right now, you’re making me embarrassed to be your friend. ‘Lets just sit back and watch’ is your only answer? Don’t make me laugh. Right now, we’re all faced with a real life shattering situation, and you want to tuck your tail and hide away and pretend like you know nothing. Part of you may have been hiding out in your room because of the news about Zion and Angelica, but I believe the bigger reason is because you’re scared to face her. Now, more than ever, is the time she needs us all to be by her side. Not hiding, or in your words, watching from the sidelines until she cries for help.”

 

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