It sounded like good advice but also maybe like a threat? Trixie turned away even as my gaze lingered on her profile. Maybe she had just as many secrets as I did. I looked away and slumped in my seat, just beginning to relax when in walked Brittney.
And right behind her strolled Mannix. I didn't know what he was, but his loose hipped swagger made me think of a predator. He walked like he had no place to go but wherever he went he'd be welcomed. I'd never been like that even when my place was secure in this world. His raven hair spiked in the back but a long hank of it fell over one eye giving him the appearance of a rakish pirate. I dragged my eyes away only to find Brittney headed right toward me, daggers of rage in her eyes.
Just as she was about to walk past my desk, she slowed, bent down and purred in my ear. I stiffened, fear making me break out into a cold sweat.
"Don't touch what isn't yours," Brittney whispered to me before she gave me a wink and a slight shove.
I lost my balance for a moment and gripped the edge of my desk to keep from toppling out. She might have been a hundred pounds soaking wet, but I couldn't forget that she was a shifter. And unless I loosed my powers on her, she'd be able to kick my ass with two broken legs and her jaw wired shut.
Mannix's brow wrinkled as he noticed the interaction between us, but he didn't say anything. He watched as Brittney settled herself into a seat two places behind me before he did an abrupt pivot and chose to sit two rows down.
A smile crept onto my face as I heard her annoyed huff of breath. Yeah, that's right puddy tat, he didn't want to sit next to either of us.
The next professor rolled in a few minutes later.
Literally.
The guy wore a pair of roller skates and wore a floppy wizard hat that made us all wince. He laughed at our expression and tossed the hat into the air above our heads. I looked up waiting to see where it would land, but it exploded into a shower of roses and lavender, showering flora all over our heads.
A delighted gasp burst from me and I held my hands out to catch the flowers. I'd keep whatever I could in order to brush up on my Herbology skills. I had no money to buy anything right now so I was going to take whatever I could get.
"Greetings, Delinquents!" the professor boomed. A crack of laughter escaped me and it was only after it was too late that I realized I was the only one who laughed.
"Ah! One student who isn't full of herself!" The professor's face widened into a smile and I grinned back at him. This guy. He was likable.
We smiled like loons at each other before he cleared his throat. "One must not take one's self so seriously," he intoned. "Especially when you are in a juvenile detention center. My name is Professor Bouton de Rose," he said and gave a wobbly little bow. I had no idea how he was able to keep his balance while wearing those skates. I would have been like a deer on ice.
"You are here to study Herbology, my very favorite thing in this world. When you hear Herbology, you may think it's only herbs like lavender, sage, thyme, et cetera, et cetera," he said with a dismissive hand wave. "But not in my class. We will study every single plant we have time for. Roses, grasses ..." Snickers rang out at that one. He shook a finger. "If we had time, and if it was 1965, we'd study that kind of grass, too, but alas, you all have records and I am not so inclined to break the law because I have bills to pay. However, we will study them on a purely academic basis without bringing them into the classroom." A chorus of groans followed that pronouncement. "Also, we will study trees, seeds, nuts, poisons." He wiggled his eyebrows. "And ... if we have time, we may also get into a little alchemy. Plant style, of course." His bright green gaze flitted over the students. "I see we have a mostly full class here. I know some of you. Repeats, though I still don't know how you managed to fail a class that's basically going outside to play all the time. But there are some new students here." His eyes lingered on me. "I hope you meant to sign up for this class because I love getting new blood in here."
I nodded, though I had absolutely zero say in what I'd signed up for. Herbs were a passion of mine, but I hadn't slung a potion in years. I couldn't wait to roll up my sleeves and get started.
"Good then." He clapped his hands and the classroom fell into darkness.
Darkness so complete it felt like the air had been squeezed from my lungs. I shut my eyes and saw bright sparks behind the lids, brighter than the classroom had been just seconds before.
I stiffened and squashed the urge to conjure light. I wouldn't do any magic until I was alone. If I could help it. I needed to see how far my skills had devolved until I tried to do anything in public again. I embarrassed myself last class and didn't want a repeat. Especially in front of this new professor. I liked him.
The urge to be a good student welled up inside of me, sending a rush of emotion inside of me. I blinked rapidly, stunned at my reaction. I hadn't been around magic in years and now that I was again ... I realized how empty I'd been.
I might have been safe, but I hadn't been living the life that was meant for me. Not that being trapped in a juvenile facility was any kind of life, but I was with my people again.
Magic users. Magicians. Witches. Shifters.
Glorious, unused power burned in my veins that I hadn't used since I was a small child. Possibility burned within me.
I was ready to see what I was made of.
Woah, Harmony. This is not the Olympics and magic might get you killed. Slow yourself down, I told myself.
“Darkness,” the professor began, startling me out of my thoughts, “is the absence of light. Magic is the organization of aether, something we can neither see nor taste. It simply is.” I could barely hear anyone breathe, and I certainly couldn’t see anyone as we were still plunged into darkness.
A small blue ball of light began to float in the air. “This isn’t aether. Not exactly. This is a combination of aether, belief and my own energy. What is this called?” he asked.
Silence.
A huff of air escaped him. “This is alarmingly simple,” he chided. “Cotton-candy hair?”
I blinked in the darkness. He had to be talking to me. “Umm. Magic?” I guessed.
“Yes!” he said, delight in his tone. “Magic. Aether, belief, and the magician’s energy. When you nail the formula, you have magic.” The light abruptly went out, plunging us all back into darkness.
A sharp clap rang out and the lights turned back on, eliciting surprised groans around the room. “But making potions isn't magic. At its heart is simple chemistry." The professor went around his desk to a small pot filled with a reddish liquid. He held it up and shook it. "This is hibiscus tea." He picked up a bag of small, red flowers. "It was made from these flowers. Simple. I took two tablespoons of these, poured hot water over them, allowed them to sit for twenty minutes, and strained them out of the water. Drinking this will a) be delicious and b) probably lower my blood sugar."
I loved hibiscus tea. My foster mom used to make it all the time. Sometimes she would add rosehips to it too. I hadn't had a cold in years since I started drinking it.
"There's no real thought process involved here," he continued. "No belief in it, no mumbo jumbo while hovering over a cauldron and no headaches when you're trying to focus. The flowers do all the work for you. Granted, you do have to know how much to use otherwise you might kill someone. And that is what you're going to learn here. Albeit, the basics of it, but you'll know enough to be able to cure a cold or help someone get over a headache pretty quick. And isn't that its own kind of magic?"
I nodded eagerly but stopped when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a few students staring at me. But if I had to pretend to be someone else, at least I got to pretend with herbs.
Class ended too soon for me. As I gathered up my books, a pair of black boots appeared at my desk. I looked up only to see Mannix looming over me, his expression adorably perplexed.
"You like herbs?" he asked. No greeting. No indication of his role in my kidnapping and subsequent attendance at juvie.
I
nodded, my brow wrinkled as I wondered what he wanted. I had some really mixed feelings about this guy. One one hand - super hot. On the other - super big narc. But ... maybe he wasn't a narc. I was still alive, wasn't I? His dark eyes flashed with an unreadable emotion. "I wouldn't have expected that," he admitted to himself right before he walked out of the classroom, leaving me standing there with my mouth open in confusion.
Beside me, Trixie snorted. "He's so weird."
"So he's always like that?" I asked as I grabbed my backpack and shoved it over my shoulder.
"He's not like anything," she admitted. "Ninety percent of the time he doesn't say anything. He just watches." Trixie shuddered. "Mannix has the most intense stare on the planet. It's like he knows all your secrets. Even the ones you don't know about yourself."
I glanced out the door again. Yeah. I could commiserate. Except he did know my secret. The biggest one I had.
"You ready for lunch?" she asked as she started walking to the door. Nodding, I followed her out, my thoughts still on Mannix.
He sat there, a dark, brooding presence at the lunch table. Honey sat next to him and waved when she saw us walking over. Her expression was open and honest, but it made me suspicious. I found sometimes those were the people who might be hiding the most. We didn't tend to dig when we thought it was all out in the open.
Rory sat next to Trixie, his expression once again blank. My lips pressed together when I saw him, and I wondered if I'd ever get the chance to talk to him.
"Hey," Trixie said as she slid into the booth. I followed her, careful to keep the milk on my tray balanced so it wouldn't plop into my spaghetti. Mannix's dark eyes were on me. I could feel them branding my skin with his mark. Careful not to look up, I began the task of opening my napkin/plastic fork packet.
When I'd fidgeted as much as I could, I fixed a smile to my face and looked up only to see Mannix still staring at me, a half-smile on his lips.
I looked away from him, cursing myself. Why was he so cute? And why was I so inept?
Honey grinned at me. "So glad to see you back! Did Trixie mention the meeting tonight?"
Trixie sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yes, like you told me to twenty times."
"You're forgetful," Honey said in explanation.
"Not always," she complained. "Just when it's something I don't like to do."
I snorted. Honey tossed a fry at her. "You're so rude," she said, but there was no heat in her voice. "We need all the people we can get this year!" She looked over at me. "Last year was super boring. We were all on lockdown after someone contaminated the Nightshade crop, so we didn't even get to pick our own music. If anyone screws up this year, I'm setting their dorm room on fire." She cut her hamburger in half as she pronounced this as if arson was a perfectly normal solution to a problem. Perhaps here at Merlin, it was.
"You in, Mannix?" Trixie asked, a too casual note in her voice. I stiffened and prayed he would say no.
"For Prom Committee?" he asked. The hand holding a fry froze in mid-air.
Trixie nodded. "So far it's all girls. If you don't want a pink sparkle princess party, we need more testosterone."
"That's stereotyping!" Honey exclaimed.
"How much glitter did you buy?" Trixie retorted.
Honey sank back in her seat and glared.
"Exactly." Trixie's smile was victorious.
"I'd rather open a vein," Mannix said, which made me laugh. His eyes narrowed at me. "Why? Is Trixie officially on?"
My heartbeat sped up. "No."
"Yes!" Trixie and Honey said. "She is! She's brand new so she doesn't get a vote. Plus, we all have volunteer hours every semester and this is the perfect way."
I blinked. "Volunteer hours?" I echoed.
"Yeah. Did you not read the handbook?" Honey asked. "Everything is laid out inside of it. It's dumb, but it is pretty important."
"I don't think I have one of those," I said lamely.
"They usually put it in your room along with your uniform," she added. "I'd read that before you come tonight. It lays out the restricted areas and a demerit system."
My shoulders slumped. "Do you guys ever get visitors here?" Not that Mom or Dad could come to see me. They were norms. But it was nice to dream.
Mannix's eyebrows rose. "This isn't Club Med. No one is allowed visitors for the first two years."
My mouth fell open. Stunned, I stuttered on my next words. "Two - TWO - what? YEARS?"
"We aren't here because we're the cream of society," he said patiently. "We're here because we're a menace."
"I didn't do anything wrong," I whispered.
Mannix's eyes flashed in warning. "Careful there, Princess. We both know that isn't true."
My glare was heated. According to him and my records here, I was quite the little rebel. Just as I was about to open my mouth, I thought better of it. He'd saved my life by doing that, so if I had to pretend to be a little worse than I was, I would do it. Not that I was perfect. No, indeed. I could be a rebel, but my memory had been wiped for years now. Just as I was supposed to be at the height of teenage rebellion, now I was too scared to do anything for fear someone would figure out who I am.
"Two years is stupid," I finally said, sitting back against the hard plastic of my chair. I picked up a fry and aggressively chewed on it. I needed to keep my mouth shut.
"We can Facetime," Trixie offered. Her face fell. "It isn't the same, though."
I thought of my foster's mom hugs scented with her own lilac smell and whatever fragrance she'd been soaping with that day. I was very much like Olaf when it came to hugs. The warmer, the better.
"Well. Crap." I pressed my lips together and shoved my tray away when something occurred to me. "So we can't leave either?" Panic fluttered in my chest.
Everyone but me started to laugh. "What do you think this is?" Honey asked. "Summer camp?"
Embarrassed, I grabbed my backpack, picked my tray up and disposed of my lunch. After that, I walked out of the cafeteria. I needed some time to myself. A quick check of my phone revealed I had twenty minutes to the next class. I jogged upstairs and unlocked my room. A quick check showed the handbook had indeed been dropped off. Tossing my pack down, I grabbed it and hopped on my bed, wincing as the springs groaned.
I could brush up on the rules before my next class. Whatever it was.
Ten minutes later, I felt even worse about my situation. I was required to show up to dinner every single night unless I had prior permission to skip or a note from the clinic. Getting caught in the restricted section would result in a 7-day detention just for the first offense. Obviously, they had some pretty potent magical stuff in there, otherwise why would they try so hard to deter you?
I skimmed over the maddening list of rules, appalled this was my life now. A quick glance at my phone revealed I had less than five minutes to get to class. I swore and jumped up, the handbook sliding onto the floor. I grabbed my pack and shot out the door, remembering at the last second to lock it.
Running through the halls, I wildly glanced around, trying to find my Illusions class. When I saw it on my schedule, I almost swallowed my tongue in fear until I remembered that illusion was considered a minor magic and wasn't all that uncommon. In fact, illusion magic was extremely popular come All Hallow's Eve time. I skidded around a corner only to see the ward of rooms I needed.
562. Illusions and Chaos Magic.
I had thirty seconds left to spare so I rushed into the classroom without a glance at anyone else and took the first seat available. It was only when I looked up that regret settled in my stomach like a lead balloon. To my right sat Brittney. She gave a smile that could only be described as anticipatory. To my left sat someone I'd never seen before, but she was just as pretty as Brittney and she had the same strange eyes. She was smiling at me, too.
I didn't dare look behind me for fear I'd find myself surrounded by stereotypical mean girls. I wasn't scared of them. Not exactly. I was scared of what I might do if they pissed me off.
Giving myself away was not an option, so I was worried I might have to put up with bullying just to keep them from discovering who I was.
Less than a minute later, I knew I was right. It started with a single kick to the back of my chair and no apology. I ignored it.
The tardy bell rang and the Illusions professor strode in. She was an older woman, on the shorter side, with a high, gray bun and a pair of red spectacles sitting on her nose. Her eyes were a flinty dark gray.
"My name is Professor Cobalt," she pronounced. "This is a serious class and screwing up here could result in serious mental and physical repercussions. If you do not follow my instructions to the letter when you are here, you will be removed from my class and remanded to Mr. Mago." Her chilly gaze swept over us. "Are we clear?"
Murmurs of assent rang through the classroom. Seconds later, there was another kick on the back of my chair.
I squared my shoulders and turned around. A beautiful redhead sat there, chewing on her pen, and twirling a piece of her fiery hair.
"Could you not do that?" I asked.
Her eyes widened in mock surprise. "What?"
I sighed. "Kick my chair, please."
She put a hand on her heart. "You want me to kick your chair? Oh, I couldn't possibly. We aren't allowed, you know. Rules and all that."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I turned to face forward again and just as the teacher turned around, there was another kick.
I once rode on an airplane with an unruly toddler and a tired mother. I spent two hours wanting to strangle a two-year-old because the mom had fallen asleep and the kid went Bruce Lee on my seat. This was a slightly different situation, but it didn't stop murderous thoughts from forming in my mind.
Professor Cobalt continued to speak and as she did, she slowly formed illusions in the air. My heart sped up and I felt a strong ache in my chest. This was why I was meant to be doing. Not being able hadn't been terrible. When I couldn't remember. But now that I could ... well, my fingers itched to create the magic my family had been blessed with.
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