by CY Jones
“I’m not scared,” I growl, getting to my feet. I sway slightly from the sudden movement and lightheadedness from my anger, but I quickly steady myself, ready to stand my ground. How dare he come to my room and insult me? How dare he point out what I already know? How dare he make me realize that I’m so pissed off because I know he’s right? I am scared, but not for me, for her. How will she react once she knows? The news is enough to break anyone. Right now, I’m no better than Zion. Like him, I’m shoving a future in her face she didn’t ask for.
“The Kirito Choi I know, the one I made my sworn brother, is no coward. Prove me right and go talk to her,” he says calmly, patting me on my shoulder.”
“Why me? Why not you or the twins?” I ask, almost desperate.
“Because she’ll listen to you. She may have closed in the distance between us all, but it’s you that she relates to more. Maybe it’s because you almost died for her or the close bond your familiars have with each other. The news is bad, there’s no sugarcoating it, but at least coming from you, it may soften the blow just a bit. If Zion waits until after she hears the announcement about their mating pair to tell her, then it will be only you who will be able to calm her down.”
“You sound so sure. You could be wrong,” I plead one last time.
“I’m not,” is all he says before patting me on my shoulder and leaving me with my frantic thoughts.
“Well, Jack, I guess the party's over,” I mumble to myself before kicking myself into gear.
Chapter 14
Angelica
My next class is Magical Defense 101 and despite my indifference toward my magical education, I’ve actually been looking forward to this class all day. Instead of propping open a textbook in some stuffy classroom, we get to practice our skills and show off what we can really do in the open gym. Unfortunately, we’re not allowed to kill anyone, which makes holding back key, and something I’m not very good at.
Taking a look around, I see many faces I’ve never seen before, mostly due to my own introverted personality. For the exception of my brother and the heirs, I never really took any interest in the other students who attend school here, therefore I don’t have any friends, but I can’t say the same for them as their eyes follow my every movement wide-eyed with a hint of excitement. Or is this greeting for the one standing unfazed next to me?
“We should take a seat in the bleachers. Sensei usually doesn’t deviate from his classes, and you guys should be doing one on one fights so he can evaluate your skills like we just finished doing.”
“Sensei?” I say, letting him lead me toward the far side of the gym. We take a seat higher up, well away from the others to hear our conversation, but it doesn’t stop their prying eyes. It isn’t until we’re settled, seated close next to each other does he reply.
“We all call him Sensei because he personally taught all us heirs to fight and helped honed our magic, Zion more than the rest of us. In Zion’s case, Sensei is more like a father figure.”
“Why were you trained by an outsider?” I frown, confused. “I get that Zion’s father sucks, but why didn’t your parents teach the rest of you? It seems a bit lazy to me, like they’re shrugging off their responsibilities. I thought involving outsiders in such a way was unheard of, especially in more established families.”
“Doll, you forget most of us have been attending this school since we were very young. My brother and I have a better relationship with our family and would go home often, but Milo only had his grandfather, and Zion’s relationship with his father is like adding accelerant to an already out of control flame. In his case, it’s better for everyone that they stay away from each other.”
“What about Kirito? Did your Sensei also teach him?”
“Not until later on. Kirito didn’t join our little circle until later when he transferred here from a mortal highschool. His family took on a different take in raising him, letting him go to school with humans. Like you, his father taught him how to fight and his family’s magic behind the high fence of their family compound away from prying eyes. Their family is like royalty in Japan and their fighting style incorporates a lot of old martial arts passed down from the generations.”
“That’s so cool. Wait! Is it Sensei's fault why Zion is so hot-headed?” I ask, giving us both whiplash at the sudden change of topic.
“Probably. But if you ask me, they both have bad tempers. However, Sensei is better at hiding his, and more clever. Sensei is Zion’s opposite in every way since his main element is water and the only one capable of putting him in check. To this day, none of us have ever been able to defeat him.”
“I guess that makes sense. If the student is able to defeat the teacher, then there’s nothing more the teacher can teach them,” I say absentmindedly, falling into a memory of words my father once told me not too long ago.
“You’re doing great, Angelica, your form in the air has improved substantially,” Father praises, and I’m still beaming even as my feet touch the dying, frost covered grass underneath me. Winter has come with a fierceness and today, it’s exceptionally cold, but Father doesn’t believe in days off from training when he’s home, so here we are. “Do you think you can take me?” he goads. The mischievous spark in his eyes matches my smile, and I can’t help but to be swept along in its brightness.
“Bring it on, old man,” I tease before going for the first attack.
Like a bird, my flight through the air is flawless, and once I hit the ground, I don’t hesitate to kick out, using my muscles in my thighs to add to my momentum. He’s able to block, but doesn’t come out unscathed when he’s pushed back a couple of feet, his feet making deep gouges in the grass. Holding out his hand, he calls for his staff and uses it to fling me away. With me weaponless, his staff gives him an unfair advantage, but there’s no such thing as fair in the mage world and I was never the type to give up easily.
With a hard yank, I pull a strand of my hair and imbue it with power, giving it the form of a whip. Taking off again on swift feet, I run straight for him, but instead of attacking, I slide through his open legs, and once I’m behind him, I strike out with my newly constructed whip, catching him behind his shoulder blade. Flipping backwards, I use both feet to kick out away from him before barely dodging and getting hit with a strike from his staff.
Not giving either the chance to breathe, we’re like a blur, hitting and blocking each other’s strikes. All his hits are powerful and my body screams from the bruises that are no doubt forming. Father has always been hard to read. What makes him so hard to beat is that his moves have no logic behind them and are usually made at the last second, making it harder for his opponent to counter. I like to say I’ve adapted this style, but I’m still far from being as good as it’s original creator. Fighting someone with the same style as you makes the fight ten times harder. The slightest detail will give you away, and every time I fight my Father, I find that I think too much, which gives me very little time to react.
A wave of power hits me hard in the chest and I fly back, tumbling hard on the coarse ground. Dodging his foot, I roll away and nearly avoid getting stomped on, getting quickly to my feet. In the fall, I lost my strand of hair, so I pulled out another and used it like a lasso. With one hand, I grab a hold of him and flip through the air, and once I land, I use both hands and all the strength I have to toss him over my shoulder. He goes down hard, but still manages to flip to his feet, making me grit my teeth in agitation. Why won’t you stay down already?
“This old man seems to be giving you quite the run for your money,” he taunts from across the field, goading me and adding fuel to my outrage.
“Well, if you were easy to defeat, you wouldn’t be the clan leader, now would you?” I snarl back.
Pissed, I run straight for him. Deep inside, I can feel my well of power bubbling. As I come at him, each of my strikes are purposely messy like a drunken kung fu master in a midnight brawl. Any tells I give are purposely made, but he’s still able
to see through the deceit and block me effortlessly, smiling like the cat that ate the canary.
Is he even taking this fight seriously or does he already know he’s going to win? That thought alone makes me even madder and my already messy moves turn down-right sloppy.
Slapping me on the side of my face he growls, “Focus,” before swiftly moving away, but my mind is already gone, lost to the rage. That well of power bubbling inside grows even more out of control and overflows out of my body and through my veins until a blueish-purple smoke leaves my body and wraps around Dad like a snake. Struggling is useless. The hold is impossible to break. All his movement does is cause this strange smoke to tighten around him even more and his handsome face starts to change colors from the lack of air.
Freaking out, I try to call back the strange smoke off, but it’s uncontrollable and doesn’t recognize me as its master. Ignoring my command, it doesn’t start to dissipate until Father goes completely still and he drops to the ground. Once it clears away, I drop to my knees, shaking his motionless body.
“Dad,” I scream, “wake up. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I cry, sobbing on his chest. I should get help, do CPR, something, but I’m utterly useless, lost in my own guilt and turmoil. When a shaky hand suddenly pats me on my back, I blink my eyes open, blinking away my overflow of tears, clashing with a bright set of blue orbs clearer than the sky above us.
“Dad, you’re okay. Thank the Goddess,” I cry, still shakened.
“I’ll be damned if this old man dies from sparring with my daughter,” he croaks, sitting up unsteady. Closely watching me, he’s guarded, but he still pulls me into his chest, hugging me tight, giving me much needed comfort. “It’s okay. Don’t cry,” he murmurs, rubbing my back until I finally calm down. “I knew this day would come eventually after the incident with the rabbit. We couldn’t hide it forever,” he whispers into my hair, but it sounds more like he’s talking to himself than me.
“What was that?” I ask, looking down guilty at my hands. “That magic. It’s been a long time since that day in the woods when I took control of that bunny’s body. Like then, I’m completely clueless of what I’ve done and have as much control over my strange power now as I did then.”
“You’re getting stronger. It’s only logical that your powers would also grow. I can only teach you the ways of a harlequin. Your mother has always been a mystery, and there’s still so much about her that even I don’t know, especially her magic. With this said, that is why I don’t think it’s a bad idea for you and your brother to leave here and attend Crescent Moon Academy.”
“I don’t want to go. I want to stay here with you. Leslie only wants me to go so bad so that she can get rid of me, hoping I’ll get killed.”
“Maybe so, but it’s still a good idea for you to go. There are teachers there who’ll be able to help you more than I can. Suppressing your other magic was always only a short time fix,” he replies, not bothering to deny my assumptions that his mate would be ecstatic if I happen to die. He knows best how much Leslie hates me. “As your father, I want the world for you. You’re powerful, Angelica, but you won’t find out just how much until you go away and learn who you really are.”
“What do you mean by that? I know who I am. I am your daughter.”
He smiles, but it seems sad. “Yes you are, but when the student can defeat the teacher, there’s not much more I can teach you.”
“That was just luck. I bet I can’t do it again,” I say, hugging him harder. I want to stay being the little girl who he first started teaching lessons to. The one who’d get frustrated every time I couldn’t learn a move fast enough. Just like Peter Pan, I don’t want to grow up.
“It’ll be okay. You won’t die. You’re strong, and soon, you’ll bring everyone in that academy to their knees,” he says, believing each and every word.
“Speak of the devil,” Oli says, breaking my stroll of the past.
Looking up, I catch sight of Zion strolling through the door like he owns the place. Like my own, everyone’s gazes turn in his direction as if it’s the most natural thing to do in the world. I hate that he’s the cause of the flush of heat that warms my body from my cheeks to the very tip of my toes, or how fixated I am on him, like he has somehow taken me prisoner and is the one holding the key to break me out.
I swear it’s so unfair for someone to be so utterly attractive. From his strong features that can’t help but to stand out to his soft auburn hair styled in messy waves. The tight t-shirt he has on insinuates each and every one of his well earned muscles, putting them on display like a fantastical work of art. The dark-wash jeans he’s wearing are mouthwatering and do wonders for his backside. What a work of art. Zion is the total package. All those feelings I’ve been trying to hide these last couple of days have risen out of me and flash like a sign above my head with an arrow pointing out the words ‘I want you’. It’s so embarrassing, and when Oli whispers in my ear, “You look excited,” I blush, embarrassed of being caught ogling.
Ignoring his comment, I watch carefully as Zion ignores everyone in the room, including us. I know he’s aware I’m here. When his gaze ran a circle around the room, it only paused on me briefly before moving on, and instead of sitting by us, he took a seat beside a girl I have never seen before.
“Who’s that?” I ask Oli, not at all nice. You can practically hear the jealousy seeping through my words.
“Who’s who?” he asks, fucking with me. Beside me, I can feel his shoulders shaking from the laughter he’s poorly controlling.
Narrowing my gaze, I reply, “Don’t play dumb with me. Who’s that girl Zion sat next to?” From here, I can only see her from behind. Without seeing her face, I can’t tell if she’s pretty or not, but with this view, she appears to be an eccentric goth with long white hair pulled into two pigtails each on the side of her head tied in a huge bow with blood red ribbons. Hanging upside down asleep from one of her ponytails is a bat, which I’m guessing is her familiar. With her all black, the lace babydoll dress and black tights, for the exception of the ribbons tied in her hair, she’s not wearing a bit of color, which is why I said she has a goth vibe.
“Oh her. That’s Mary Valentine. I’m sure you’ve seen her before. She’s usually sleeping in class, which is why you probably don’t remember her,” Oli answers.
“Valentine? Isn’t that the last name of a powerful vampire clan?” I ask, confused. Why would a vampire come to school here? The mage clans and the vampires don’t get along at all. I thought our relationship with the fae was bad, but apparently with the vamps, it’s even worse.
“I know what you’re thinking, and yeah, you’re half right. Valentine is the name of an old and very powerful vampire clan, but Mary is actually a mage with strong blood magic.”
“What?! How can that be?”
“Her family was cursed by the vamps long ago. At first, they were Somas, a powerful mage family who specialized in blood magic. I don’t know what happened, but somewhere down the line, they pissed off the wrong vamp family and were cursed. To appease the Valentines, their clan leader at the time was mated to the Valentine heir, but due to the curse, the Somas were unable to produce another heir and died off. Due to the mixed blood and their wacky magic, every once in a while, the Valentines will birth a full-blooded mage. When that happens, instead of being killed, they’re sent here to live in the school.”
“If they’re given over to the school, then why don’t they take on their family name?”
“Because there’s no guarantee their offspring won’t be born a vampire. For that reason, the mages that are sent here from the Valentine clan are never considered to be mated to another mage. No one is willing to take the chance. Even the weaker mage families with hardly any magic of their own will take that gamble, afraid the curse will pass down to them.”
“That’s awful,” I say, pity taking over my jealousy.
“I wouldn’t feel bad for her. Being here can’t be easy, but Mary is stro
ng. Even if she can’t be mated to another mage family, another vampire clan will take her on. Not only are the Valentines a powerful vamp family, but royalty. As the king’s third heir, another equally powerful vamp family will take her in to gain favor and increase their power. She’s the king’s only daughter, and I hear he still dotes on her, even though she’s living here. After she graduates, he will surely send for her.”
“Even still. I’m not saying I understand vampire politics, but not being able to grow up with her siblings had to be tough. I don’t know what kind of person I would be if I didn’t have Quinn by my side. I get growing up in a hostile environment where everyone hates you for what you are. Now that I know the truth about myself, our situations are kind of the same.”
“Not everyone hates her. Just like you and your brother, Mary had Zion by her side to keep her sane. On holidays, when we would all go home to our families, it would be just Zion and Mary left here with no place to go. In their younger years, they spent a lot of time together and, as well as us, Mary was trained personally by Sensai.”
And just like that, my jealousy returns. I feel green all over from my head to my toes ready to wreak havoc and make Oli take back his words. Watching the two, Mary turns toward Zion and I catch sight of her side profile. She’s extremely pale like fine china, but even from here, I can tell her features are pretty and delicate. I’m sure head on she’s quite the beauty.
