by Sarina Dorie
I laughed. He was so funny. I’d never detested him. I stared into the stormy depths of his eyes and felt like I could sink below the steely surface. I leaned closer.
“Do you get it yet?” he asked. “Do you understand your affinity?”
My brain felt foggy. It was hard to focus on his words when he was so beautiful. Not just his hair, but the angular line of his jaw, his high cheekbones, and aquiline nose. He was a sexy off-limits professor. I was the student with a crush on her teacher. I sighed.
“Do you understand what I could do with this knowledge?” he asked. “What anyone could do to you? The Raven Queen won’t need to force you to go with her if she discovers this. She’ll seduce you into her service. Is that what you want?”
I nodded dumbly. I liked listening to the music of his voice.
“You’re an idiot.” He scowled. “Fortunately, I know the antidote.” His grip tightened on my wrist. The ice of his fingers dug into my skin, jolting me back to reality. The pleasantness that had been there moments before was replaced by fear. Pain grounded me, reminding me how vulnerable I was. I had almost agreed to allow him to drain me.
I pulled back harder, in earnest this time. “Let go. You’re hurting me.”
“Indeed, that’s the point. Are you still too stupid to understand?” Regret and sorrow built in the storm clouds of his eyes, drowning out the venom of his words. He released my wrist. “Go away and come back after you’ve formed a hypothesis. And for Fae’s sake, don’t share it with any of the staff or students.”
For once I had no problem following Thatch’s advice. Already I knew I had to keep my Red affinity secret. If someone learned what I was and could control me through touch, that meant I was even more of a danger to myself and others than I’d realized.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Walkabout
Sunday afternoon I went on a walk with Julian in the forest with the intention of finding a magic wand. As soon as the school was out of sight, he tucked my hand into the crook of his arm. It felt nice being close to someone. Immediately I was aware of the red ball of energy inside me. I pushed it down and imagined it getting smaller. I shielded myself, determined to protect myself and others.
Discreetly, I removed my hand from his arm.
Thatch’s lesson was still fresh in my mind. I was still creeped out by what Thatch had done, how he had made me want him. I tried not to hear the song “Hot for Teacher” in my brain or allow fleeting fantasies of his lips on mine to creep back into my awareness. It made my lucid-dreaming exercises of imagining only what I wanted to dream about even more challenging.
As if the whole thing hadn’t been freaky enough, I kept thinking about Pro Ro’s innuendo that Thatch might have been my mother’s lover. I was not going to let anyone seduce me with magic or my affinity again, least of all someone who might be my father for all I knew.
Julian’s hand brushed against mine, sending fluttering feelings up my arm and into my core. It was difficult to concentrate with the way the light glowed on his skin. He was so beautiful I wanted to paint him.
“I’ve set up a little picnic for us next to the stream. I hope you like chocolate-covered strawberries and champagne.” He played with a strand of my pink hair. “I know I like strawberries.”
I had purposefully dyed my strawberry-blonde hair pink after years of listening to such comments. I rolled my eyes and flipped a handful of hair in his face, laughing as he jerked back. He poked me in the side and chased after me.
The trees along the path shifted into ancient growth, some so wide they rivaled those I’d seen in Redwood National Park of Northern California. Curtains of moss hung from trees, wafting in the breeze. The trail wove up and over lush hills that overlooked green canyons. I had always loved hiking and had seen pictures of the Hoh Rainforest years before, but this transcended the beauty of the Pacific Northwest. Pink-and-yellow lights flitted through the trees. I couldn’t tell if they were butterflies catching the sunlight or fairies.
Motion caught my attention to the right. Two centaurs, a bare-breasted woman and a child, watched us from the canyon below. Warily, they backed away. Knobby little creatures that blended in with the texture of tree bark peeked at us from around clusters of ferns and patches of flowers. It was enchanting. I wished I had brought my sketchbook.
There were multiple forks in the paths. I couldn’t keep track of where we were with the sun directly overhead and the twists in the trail. Fortunately, Julian strode forward confidently and purposefully toward our destination.
He leaned down to examine a fallen piece of wood and handed it to me. “How’s this for a wand?”
In his hand it looked small, but I wore size five shoes, and my hands were as proportionately small. It felt like gripping a sausage. “I think Coach Kutchi would accuse me of succumbing to the patriarchy of phallic wands.”
“You’re horrible!” He laughed so hard he leaned over, grabbing his sides. “We’ll keep looking.”
A short while later he found a smaller stick. This one was only the length of my hand and too skinny to be considered more than a twig. I shook my head. “This is like Goldilocks and the three wands.”
He arched an eyebrow. “If that’s how it works, the next stick you get your hand around will be just right.”
“Please say that’s not a euphemism.”
“Certainly not. You simply have a dirty mind.”
We must have walked for an hour before my feet grew tired. I sat down on a fallen tree beside the path to rest. I hadn’t packed hiking shoes, just my jogging shoes. The soles were caked with wet earth, and the traction wasn’t as good as it had been when we’d first started out. I used a thick twig to gouge some of the mud from the bottom. I held up the stick. Maybe it could be my wand.
It broke as I gouged more mud off my heel. So much for my supposed wand.
Julian tugged the remainder out of my hand and tossed it into the foliage. “Just a little farther.”
“Are we still on school grounds?” I asked as Julian guided me on. “The principal said I’m not allowed to leave Womby’s property without a Celestor as escort. Where is this picnic?”
“It’s just over the next hill. We’re still on the school grounds.”
A bird cawed overhead. I jumped up, startled to see a black silhouette against the azure sky.
Julian watched the bird fly off. “It’s a crow, not a raven,” he said.
“How can you tell?”
“I have an affinity with nature. I can tell the difference.”
The sight of the bird didn’t make me feel any easier. Josie had once told me the school was surrounded by miles of woodland in all directions and warded against Fae courts. I didn’t know where that border ended. Even if that bird wasn’t an emissary of the Raven Court, that didn’t mean it couldn’t be Thatch’s evil bird looking for an opportunity to peck my eyes out.
Julian led me to the path. “I promise we’re close.”
A raindrop plopped on my nose.
Laughter came from up ahead. Julian’s brows drew together in concern, and he quickened his pace. A minute later we stumbled upon the intended picnic. Three satyrs were sprawled out in the small clearing, devouring food from a basket.
“Son of a witch!” Julian swore under his breath. “That’s our picnic.”
“You snooze, you lose, dude,” the hairiest satyr said.
One guzzled down the bottle of champagne and belched loudly. Another wrapped the checkered picnic blanket around himself. Chocolate was smeared all over his mouth.
Julian kicked at a rock. “I should have used my broom and flown us here. It would have been faster.” His shoulders sagged in defeat.
Raindrops tapped against the canopy of leaves overhead, an occasional plop bursting through and dropping on my head.
“Why don’t we just go into town and have lunch?” I asked.
His smile returned. “Good idea. I’m fortunate you’re
such a good sport about this.”
The bright sunshine above hid behind clouds. The shadows darkened.
A cold drop of water splattered onto my nose. Another fell on my ear. The leaves above us pitter-pattered with the increasing staccato.
I ran to the overhang of an evergreen as buckets of water poured through the trees. It was a little drier close to the tree, but not by much.
Julian shouted over the rain to be heard. “Back along the path.” He pointed. “There was a big tree with a hollowed base.”
We ran along the trail, slipping into each other in the mud. My pink curtain of hair plastered itself to my skull and fell into my eyes. So much for spending all that time trying to look nice. The giant tree was a few feet off the path. We took shelter in the hollow, squishing together to fit inside. The compartment reminded me of all the times I had imagined what it would be like to be a storybook fairy living in a tree house.
I swiped at the spiderwebs and tried not to imagine all the other things that might be living in the tree. A knot in the wood poked painfully into my side. Between that and the cold, the pleasure I’d felt only moments before leaked away. All warmth had left me with the frigidness of the rain. I shivered against Julian.
He hugged me to his side. “We need to get you out of these wet clothes and warm you up before you catch a cold.”
“You don’t catch a cold from rain.” I smoothed a hand over the worn wood interior.
“Yes, you do. Rain carries horrible curses and magical maladies.” He touched my nose with the tip of his finger playfully.
He removed his wand from his sleeve. The words he incanted tasted like pine needles and clay. A swirl of green left his wand and brightened the hollow of the tree as he waved a hand over my clothes.
I expected a warming spell. Instead, my jeans and T-shirt disappeared in a poof. I was left huddling in my underwear and bra. I shivered even more. “Julian, that isn’t funny! Bring my clothes back.”
His eyes went wide. “I’m so sorry! That was an accident. I swear.” He squirmed next to me, bumping into me as he removed his arms from the sleeves of his jacket. “Here, take my coat.” He wrapped it around my shoulders.
I shrugged into it, giving him the evil eye the entire time. Water beaded up on the long sleeve, but it rolled off. The rain hadn’t soaked the fabric.
“I was trying to do a waterproof spell, but something went haywire. It must be something about our magics negating each other.” Julian grimaced, his face flushing in the glow of his wand’s light. “Are you warm enough? I could try a warming spell, but I’m afraid to try it at the moment.”
I tucked my knees more closely to my chest to keep in the heat. “I’m fine.”
My magic used to interact strangely with Derrick’s too, hence the tornado that had carried him away. Learning to control my magic seemed more important than ever. I didn’t want to give Julian a heart attack or lightning to strike him.
The pelting of the rain slowed. Sun peeked through the trees, though it still sprinkled.
Everything about today had gone wrong. I didn’t have a wand, I was hungry, and now nearly naked and cold. I huddled against the tree as far away from Julian as I could, annoyed he’d magicked away my clothes, even if it was an accident. More than that, I was mad at myself for agreeing to go out with him, despite Thatch’s advice that I should learn to control my magic before I dated men.
I crossed my arms over my chest, attempting for modesty. “I want you to bring my clothes back.”
“Oh, um, sure.” He swallowed. “I’ll try.”
He waved his wand over me. Fabric whispered across my skin. It didn’t feel like my jeans and shirt. I looked down to find myself in a white cotton dress. I removed his coat and handed it to him. The dress came with puff sleeves. A sock was stuck to my chest with static. I peeled it off.
“You look lovely, by the way. Like an angel.” Julian’s brow furrowed. “But those aren’t your clothes, are they?”
“No,” I said with about as much enthusiasm as Eeyore. I flicked the sock at him. The dress was pretty, at least.
“Clarissa, don’t be mad at me. Please.” He draped an arm around my shoulder. “I’ll try for your clothes again in a couple minutes after I recharge. Do you forgive me?”
His green eyes were so forlorn I felt bad for him. “Yes, I forgive you, if you can forgive me for being crabby. Let’s just go back to the school.” I climbed out of the hollow and stood under the driest section of the tree. I didn’t care if it was still raining. I wanted to get to my room and into a warm set of my own clothes.
Julian scrambled out after me. “Good idea.” He took my hand and pressed his lips to my knuckles. “I really am sorry about your clothes.”
He smoothed his hand over mine, stroking my skin as he stared into my eyes. My affinity stirred inside my core. Warmth flooded my veins. Electricity prickled over my skin. Pleasant throbbing rose up in me again, making me drunk on his touch. I gasped at the way he aroused me.
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
I leaned against Julian, hypnotized by the desire rising inside me. I might have given in to the yearning if Thatch’s words hadn’t been so recent in my head. Did I know the difference between my own desire and someone else’s?
Through the fog of lust clouding my mind, fears of my own magic drifted away. Vaguely, a half thought about the Fae Fertility Paradox and the Red affinity wormed into my consciousness, only to drift away again.
The only thing keeping me from wrapping my arms around Julian and kissing him was Julian. He held me away from him, his hands pinning my arms to my sides as he studied me. “Clarissa, stop. Are you trying to use magic on me?”
Magic tingled under my skin. The hairs on the back of my arm rose. I smelled ozone in the air. Lightning would be coming soon. I tried to make myself pull away, but it was painful to do so. The ball of energy inside me grew larger. It pressed against my diaphragm, making it difficult to breathe. My insides throbbed. Sharp contractions of pain lanced up my pelvis.
Not a good sign.
I wrenched myself away, stumbling back over a root. I caught a branch to keep from slipping into the mud.
Julian leaned against a tree, his expression confused. “Clarissa, what did you just do to me?”
I shook my head. I didn’t want this to be like with Satyr Sam when he’d accused me of casting a spell on him. I didn’t want to be like my mother using Thatch. Before I could get out a word, a booming voice called out to us.
“What are you doing with this fair maiden?”
I turned. Dappled brown horses stood in the meadow where the picnic had been. The three satyrs were gone, but the basket, blanket, and remains of food still lay in the grass. Two brown-gray horses loped closer. I didn’t see any riders. As they approached, I saw they weren’t horses, but unicorns. My breath caught in my throat.
Yes! I’d always known unicorns were real. They were beautiful, but not at all what I had imagined unicorns would look like. For one, their fur wasn’t white. Most of their horns were the pale bone hue of deer antlers rather than gold. Another was black like a bull’s horn. They reminded me of wild mustangs. There were about a dozen in their herd.
“Feral unicorns!” Julian whispered. “Don’t make any sudden moves.” He slowly reached for my hand and tugged me behind him.
A sable-and-ochre unicorn with an ivory horn stomped closer. His voice was stern. “I asked a question. What are you doing?”
Julian tried to answer, but another unicorn interrupted in a deep rumbling voice. “What have we here?”
One of the unicorns nudged his head against another’s shoulder. “A student and a teacher by the looks of it.”
“I’m not a student,” I said.
“Sure you aren’t, honey.”
Not this again.
One nudged at the picnic basket in the clearing with a hoof. He neighed. “Look at all that litter they left. Humans. Typical.�
��
“That wasn’t us. That was the satyrs,” Julian said quickly. “We were about to be on our way when you came upon us.”
The unicorn snorted. His nostrils flared. “I smell a lie. Or a liar. Or both.”
“Someone is going to pay for this mess,” one of them said.
I spoke quickly, filling in the details. “We were planning on having a picnic, but we found the satyrs eating our food. Then there was a rainstorm.”
A dappled brown unicorn snuffled the basket and sneezed.
My apprehension faded as more unicorns trampled closer, bringing with them a sense of security and calm that wrapped around me like a blanket and made me feel safe. My eyes were riveted by the beads of water rolling off the stallion’s rippling back muscles. I still couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Unicorns!
The one with the black horn stomped forward. He was sleek and elegant. The sun peeked from behind clouds and sparkled like diamonds on the raindrops clinging to his tail and wild mane. He lowered his head, his posture inviting. He edged closer. His long black eyelashes blinked—or winked—as he watched me. He was beautiful. I reached out a hand to pet him.
“Don’t,” Julian whispered. He slapped my hand away.
The black-horned unicorn growled—something I didn’t know an equestrian species could do—and slashed his horn at Julian. We both jumped back from the unicorn, though in the opposite direction from each other.
The unicorn stomped between us. The remaining herd in the clearing sniffed and hoofed the ground. The unicorns circled around Julian and me but kept us separated. I dodged back from one, only to stumble into another.
Julian shoved one away. “Get back. I command you. You’re trespassing on school property. Principal Bumblebub will fine you for this.”
One of the unicorns snorted. “We aren’t on school property anymore, pegasus breath.”
“That’s right. Do you know what the fine is for hexing a unicorn? We’re on the endangered species list, you shag-haired, donkule fornicator,” a brown one said.
