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

by CY Jones

  “If they’re such great friends, then why haven’t I heard nothing about her until now?” I ask, fuming.

  “Ahh, you have Violet to thank for that. Once it was agreed Zion would be her mate, she put a stop to Mary spending time with him, stating it’s disrespectful for another female to be so close to him. Zion didn’t completely stop being friends with Mary, but he did keep his distance to appease Violet. Over the years, their relationship suffered until what it is now.”

  Why am I so fixated on this? In retrospect, I’m no better than Violet. Just as insecure. And for what? I don’t have any right to be jealous since Zion isn’t mine. But after hearing Oli’s explanation, that part of me that refuses to give up on Zion is afraid that now that Violet is out of the picture to Mary, someone who has known him forever, is free game.

  “Are you worried Mary can steal Zion from you now that his engagement with Violet has been called off?” Oli questions, reading my insecurities word for word.

  “I don’t care if she does,” I answer, lying through my teeth.

  “You know, lovely, you’re a bad liar.

  I don’t get a chance to retort a clever comeback when my ears catch the sound of Zion chuckling and all I can hear or see is a thick, red haze laced with green. Oli nudges me and I make myself turn away from the two before I do something crazy like paint the walls with Mary’s blood, giving a whole new meaning to the words Bloody Mary. In my violent rage, I missed the heir’s Sensai walk in or him calling on me, which is why Oli nudged me in the first place.

  “Can you repeat that?” I say, standing.

  “I said, I’m glad to see you make it to class after such a long absence.” His words are smooth, but hold a hint of contempt. Great, he’s just like my former teacher in Magical Element class. I wonder what I could have done already to get on his bad side?

  As he takes me in, I look him up and down, taking in all his features from his handsome face to the clothes he has on. Figures he’s hot. His features note that he’s Asian and like my brother, he has very long hair for a guy. With half of it tied up and gathered in an antique silver hair piece while the rest of it flows down his back like a sleek waterfall. He prefers a traditional style and his clothing reflects that, making him look the part of a Sensei from an esteemed Chinese dynasty. Even from this distance, I can tell he’s crazy powerful as my own magic senses a clear threat. Unlike with Mr. Hoffman, I would rather not be on his shit list, so holding back, I swallow any and all smart aleck retorts and smile before bowing in a traditional manner and asking for forgiveness for my absence.

  I don’t know if he believes I’m genuine or not. This guy is hard to read, even his aura is a mystery. Arching a brow, he tells me to step down. Oli mentioned he doesn’t deviate from the class schedule, so I guess I’ll be facing off against someone for him to evaluate my skills. Standing on the rail of the bleachers, I keep my balance and slide down it before flipping high in the air and landing steadily on my feet next to Sensei.

  “With moves like that, I can see how everyone was fooled into thinking you were a harlequin, but here, I’d like to see what you really can do.” The class snickers, and I bite down hard on my teeth. I don’t want to disrespect him, but if this keeps up, I don’t know how long I can keep biting my tongue.

  “WIth all due respect, Sir, I didn’t fool anyone. Despite who my real father is, I was raised by harlequins and taught as such. Since the truth has been revealed, abandoning my teachings would be disrespectful to the ones who raised me.”

  Moving his gaze away, he looks toward Zion’s direction. Just when I think he’s about to choose him to be my opponent, he calls out Mary’s name. Well, this is definitely a turn of events. How unfortunate for her. I’m still pissed at her over unlogical reasons I have no right to feel but still do. That red haze from before comes back with a vengeance, and I watch her like a lion does its prey before it corners and kills it.

  To piss me off even more, as soon as she hears her name called, she stands lazy like, almost like she doesn’t have a care in the world and even steps on the tips of her toes, stretching her arms high in the air and letting out a long, open mouthed yawn. Does this girl want to die?

  Just like I thought, she’s gorgeous, but what really stands out are her large eyes, slanted and the color a rich burgundy like a rare red wine aged thousands of years. Like her hair, her lashes are also white, long, sparkling with gold dust. Her skin may be pale, but it’s blemish free and creamy and doesn’t wash her out at all. High cheekbones, sharp enough to cut glass, and ruby red lips add to her ethereal appearance. I already hated her because she can make Zion smile, but I hate her even more now just because she’s prettier than me, making her a clear threat. Maybe I’m just as petty as Violet.

  Hunched over with half opened eyes, she slowly walks down the bleachers sluggishly, and I grind my teeth as I grow even more annoyed the longer it takes for her to finally reach her destination and stand across from me. The bat hanging on to her ponytail doesn’t even waver, comfortable in his spot, content to stay sleeping. Curious of why I’m angry or maybe it’s the bat, Mr. Meow peels off my body and stands beside me, making our classmates stir even louder on the bleachers. Already, I can hear the murmurs of them taking bets of who will win this fight.

  “I’m sorry. Did I interrupt your nap?” I question her. Calm down, Angelica. Oli did say this girl is usually sleeping. Maybe she’s nocturnal like her familiar.

  “No, nothing of the sort, but this is interrupting a pleasant conversation with an old friend,” she replies, giving me a half smile filled with smugness.

  To answer my previous inner question, yes, this girl does want to die.

  With a growl, I take a step forward while Sensei holds his hand out, halting me. “Since this is an individual evaluation, I rather you didn’t use your familiars to fight with you,” he replies, nodding his head toward Mr. Meow.

  Glancing down at Mr. Meow, I nod in agreement and he backs off, changing into his cat form. To mine and the class surprise, he jumps up into Sensei’s arms, making himself comfortable. Chuckling, Sensei softly pets him, scratching behind his ears in Mr. Meow's favorite spot. “Traitor,” I curse in my head, knowing Mr. Meow can hear me through mindspeak.

  “Clover won’t get in the way,” Mary promises in an innocent voice like Heaven’s chiming bells.

  “Also, I don’t think I need to remind you to leave your Champion out of the fight, do I?” Sensei asks.

  I growl, “You just did.” Hearing his words, Archer also backs off, moving away in his incorpal form, but he still stays within attacking range, just in case. It’s his duty to protect me no matter what so he won’t completely leave me unguarded just because my teacher said so.

  As soon as Sensei moves out of the way, carrying my familiar off with him and motions for the fight to begin, I attack quick like a lightning strike and punch Mary hard enough for her to spit blood, but fully awake now, the crazy bitch just smiles like I made her day, showing off two perfect rows of bloody teeth. Attached to her fingers on her right hand are iron claws delicately shaped and molded to her nails, sharp and deadly which she uses to strike out and scratch at my own face, which I nearly avoid. Spitting out blood into her hand, she uses it to send out a burst of power that hits my chest and sends me flying back into the wall hard enough to make it crack around me and my ears ring.

  No wonder why she was so happy when I made her bleed. Blood is the source of her magic. Just the scent of it gives her power. I always thought blood magic was done by psychos who enjoy hurting themselves. Now, I see I wasn’t entirely wrong. My anger caused me to underestimate my opponent, something my father would punish me for if he were a witness to this fight.

  With a rational head, I run toward her again, this time using my forearm to shield against her next powerstrike. I still feel pain, but at least this time, I’m not thrown into any walls and am able to stay on my feet. Grabbing her left arm, I flip backwards, twisting her limb with my movement nearly to
the breaking point. Being so close to her, I can feel her magic building and when she pushes me away, I duck, maneuvering myself from her claws for the second time.

  I want to end this fight quickly, but despite her lax attitude before the fight, she’s proving she’s quite the opponent. On swift feet, I’m a blur, flipping toward and away from her, dodging the streaks of blood like sharp knives and striking everytime I see an opening. Countering me, she’s just as agile and just as swift, which I find irritating. Her long pigtails swing at me, the ends cutting my skin, spilling more of my blood and giving herself more power as each strand sucks away at my blood like a straw.

  Her aura is grey, which means she’s hiding her true power, so I avoid being too close to her for long periods of time. I could end all this. Use my power as a manipulator. Without me even trying, the strings connecting to her limbs light up like fireflies, but being stubborn, I refuse to wield anything my real father gave me.

  Taking a swipe of her claws to my side, I push her back with a quick gust of wind. Holding my hand out, I call on my staff and as it flies toward me, a purple-blueish smoke flows out of the open mouth of the skulls and quickly surrounds her body, wrapping around her like a burrito.

  “You should give up before you get squeezed to death,” I tell her. It’s a clear taunt, but also the truth.

  “Is this the best the daughter of the mighty Morganstein can do?” she spits back, knowingly or unknowingly, flipping the switch and opening the door to issues I rather keep caged.

  “Tough talk for someone in my mercy.” My hand clenches into a fist, causing the smoke wrapped around her to tighten.

  Unfazed about her peril situation, she bites her lip til it bleeds a steady stream and spits it on the smoke. Surprised, I watch as the smoke sputters in and out before it completely dissipates. “Fucking blood magic,” I mutter annoyed as I spin through the air and land in a handstand before, sweeping her legs in a windmill motion and sending her crashing to the cold, hard floor. Staff in hand, I strike the floor with the butt, which causes ripples of magic to vibrate through the floor and attack Mary’s body, making her twitch like she has been hit by lightning. But even still, this girl is tough, and I watch, amazed as she climbs on shaky feet. I suspect neither of us have given this fight our all. With so many people watching, it would be stupid to do so, but even still, if she values her life, she should give up. This is just gym class for fuck’s sake.

  More wind leaves my hand, and this time, it’s her turn to taste the wall. “Are you crazy? Surrender,” I growl, pushing her even deeper into the cement. Moving closer, I don’t let up on my power and my wind only grows stronger, but deep inside, I sense something is wrong. I’m giving a full effort, but something is off. The well of power inside me feels wacky. A feeling I can’t explain or pinpoint. Even if I am currently winning, ending this soon would be in my best interest.

  “Never,” she cries through clenched teeth.

  “Your funeral,” I mumble, increasing the intensity. Just when I think she’s about to pass out or die, a spark lights within her aura, causing a burst of red to seep through the grey. Like with Zion, flames dance in her burgundy irises before streams of fire fly out at me. Once the hot flames clash against the air I’m using to push Mary into the wall, it causes an explosion, powerful enough to send us both flying backwards.

  I’m barely on my feet when she sends more flames flying at me and I dance away, avoiding each strike. “You’re interesting, I'll give you that.” I’m breathing hard as sweat drips down my face. Fire singes my sleeve and I bat away the flames, laughing hysterically while twirling away. Mary is not a boring opponent at all. She’s actually quite fun. More fun than I had in a while. The harder I laugh, the more tears stream down my face like a fountain. My eyes shine with amusement while my limbs move swiftly, avoiding the danger of her deadly, bloody strikes. Like a dangerous game of tag, you don’t want to get caught unless you enjoy getting hurt.

  “And you’re insane,” she shouts back, which actually makes me smile wider. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this chick doesn’t like me. Is it because of Zion? Is he the base of both of our hatreds? Violet is out of the picture, but now he claims to have feelings for me. What will you do now, little Bloody Mary?

  Fire and thin lines of blood attack me, rushing my movement, making me move faster, but despite the danger, I still laugh through it all like a little girl at the playground. “Ring around the rosey,” I sing, circling her on the tips of my toes. Arms lifted above my head, I move my hands in a hypnotic motion. “Pocket full of posies.”

  “Shut up, you psycho” she screams, flinging more fire like a monkey flings poop.

  My song unnerves her. I mean, who besides my brother would sing an old children’s rhyme during a duel? She calls me crazy, but I think I’m a genius. Harlequins don’t follow the rules. What’s the fun in that? My father taught me to be unpredictable. As soon as your opponent can read your moves, you’re as good as dead. Fighting is seventy percent mental. Get into your opponent’s head and you control the fight. Father’s lessons haven’t been lost on me just because we’re no longer blood. Everyone here watching may think I’m insane, unpredictable, but that’s exactly what I want them to think. I know what I’m doing.

  “Ashes, ashes.” Another sloppy move and an even sloppier kick on her part as she avoids me. Mary must really be unsettled.

  “We all fall,” I say, pulling a strand of hair from my scalp before jumping up in the air. As I sail above Mary’s head, I use the strand of hair to wrap tightly around her waist and when I land, I crouch down and pull, sending her to the floor beside me. “Down,” I end softly. When I stand, I stomp on her head hard enough to knock her out before she does something stupid, like try to get up.

  “I win,” I cheer with a big smile on my face.

  Sensei is like an unmovable mountain. His expression gives off nothing, even when he motions for me to take my seat. When I walk past Zion, I say loud enough for everyone to hear, “Sorry about your little friend,” and when I take my seat next to Oli, he’s barely holding in his laughter.

  “What?” I ask innocently.

  “You claim you weren’t jealous, but I know that’s false.”

  “What are you babbling about? I’m just trying to get a good grade. Besides, I barely used any of my skills, and I left her alive. If that’s the type Zion likes, then he can have at it.”

  “Was the nursery rhyme really necessary?” he asks, still chuckling.

  “Yes,” I answer matter-of-factly.

  Truth be told, I don’t know what I would have done if Mary somehow managed to get up. It may have looked like I was in control, but I fear if the battle would have gone on, I would have lost. Something is wrong with me, and I don’t know what. Even now, with hardly any effort, I feel drained. Didn’t Zion say I was healed? After one little fight, why do I feel like this?

  I want to question him, but Sensei had him take Mary to the healer’s office while the rest of us are left to discuss how she lost, and what she could have done to prevent it. Truthfully, I may not have been going all out, but I did use a great deal of my strength with each strike. And every attack she hit me with was nothing to sneeze at. If it weren’t for me saving face in front of the class, I would have gone along to the healers with her. My side is still bleeding from those iron nails of hers and I’m exhausted, taxed from my wind power by holding her against the wall for so long.

  Sensing something is off or maybe he knows me better than I thought, Oli sneaks his hand under my shirt and gently lays it against my wound. After a few moments, I breathe easy as a calming magic leaves his hand and heals my wound, soothing away all my aches. This is one of the few times I’ve been fully conscious while he’s healing me. At first, his touch is icy to the point of being unbearable like his brother’s frost power, but after a while, as the wound heals, it starts to warm, and I have to refrain from moaning. I wouldn’t want to give the people here the wrong idea or get kicked out of cl
ass for making inappropriate noises.

  When class is over, Mr. Meow jumps down from Sensei’s arms after having been petted and spoiled throughout class and disappears out the door to go off to do who knows what.

  “Oliver, next time go to your own class. Miss Morganstein doesn’t need a babysitter,” Sensei scolds as we descend the bleachers.

  “Aww, come on, Sensei. Angelica is much prettier than the females in my class. And more fun,” he adds, laughing after I smack him in his side.

  Turning to me, Sensei says, “You did good, but you were holding back.”

  “We both were,” I reply boredly.

  “Your magic is also unstable. You have yet to be able to control the flow of power of each release, which is why you get exhausted quickly. Usually, this is something learned when you’re younger, but having suppressed your true power for so long, it’ll be difficult to do so now without proper guidance.”

  Is that what’s wrong with me? No, it may have added to the problem, but I fought before and never felt like this. Maybe it takes longer to recover after being poisoned and completely drained.

  “I’ll manage.” What more can I say than that? I have found out these last couple of weeks that using the magic I had kept hidden for so long does tires me. After fighting Quinn, I may have passed out more from exhaustion than my actual injuries. Even afterwards while practicing with my grandfather, I found it hard to control the huge burst of power that seemed to explode off of me.”

  “Alone you won’t, but if you agree, I can take you on as one of my pupils.”

  I’m skeptical at his offer, slightly suspicious. No one offers help for free. What does he get out of this? But it’s hard to stay resistant when Oli pulls me close with a side hug all excited like. “This is amazing. Sensei hardly ever takes on new students.”