Blazed in the center of his chest was the faint image of a burning phoenix that seemed to glow when he felt strong emotions…like now, it throbbed the pale red of pleasure as Draven stroked his head. He was a breed of gargoyle, but instead of stone, he had leathery grey skin.
He’d grown so much, he was now an armful of puppy, coming up to her knees when he galumphed along at her side. His feet were so huge, he stumbled over them more often than not.
Kincade had warned her that he could be the size of a small car when fully grown.
His wings were expanding as well, though they still weren’t large enough to carry his weight. For now, they remained tucked up against his body, the tips dusted a pale gold that almost seemed to glitter in the sun.
“Can we talk?” Draven didn’t smile, his eyes solemn. His grip tightened on the hound, almost like he needed the courage to talk to her.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She didn’t want to hear how he thought it would be better for them to keep their distance from each other. She chucked Loki under the chin, then turned and headed down the hall. The pup wiggled out of Draven’s arms, thunked to the ground, and scrambled to catch up with her.
People in the hall gave them wide berth, and Loki watched everything around him, his barbed tail lashing with interest, searching for adventure.
“Isn’t your next class in the other direction?” Draven almost seemed too relax now that she was running away from him and not throwing herself into his arms and admitting her undying love.
What an asshole.
Like he’s so irresistible.
Morgan glanced back to find Draven following her, pointing over his shoulder in the correct direction. Curiosity brightened the dead look that had been in his eyes since last night, but she resisted the urge to smile. “Yup.”
Then she turned and picked up her pace.
They traveled through the twists and turns of the Academy in silence. The building had been created by pure magic, which also meant that it had its own quirks, the stairs and walls moving and changing of their own accord, leading her where it felt she was needed.
She hadn’t realized until recently that other students didn’t have the same problem. Her presence somehow activated the Academy’s magic, which was apparently similar to her own, and it often led her on more than a few wild goose chases when all she wanted was to find a bathroom. But every excursion led her to some new treasure or discovery.
Ever since the attack, the Academy had been slow to recover, and she’d taken to walking the halls at night while the guys were gone, trailing her hands across the stone surfaces, allowing her magic to seep into the majestic old building.
Though not completely healed, she could sense it was on the mend.
They came to a stop in front of an imposing set of stairs that led to an ornate set of double doors. Above the doorway was a bit of Latin script that translated roughly to ‘knowledge is power’.
“What’s in the library?” Draven sounded suspicious, and she didn’t blame him. She wasn’t the scholarly type. He haunted it more than she did, often using the stacks as a trysting place.
To her surprise, he turned out to be very well read.
“Training.” She didn’t slow down as she pushed open the doors. If she stopped, she was afraid he’d want to talk, and she wanted to avoid that conversation for as long as possible.
As soon as the doors opened, Loki lifted his large head and sniffed the air. Then he gave a rumbling growl and took off into the maze of bookshelves, Morgan hot on his heels. The place was a giant, cavernous room, so vast she wasn’t sure it ever ended. Tiers and stacks of books, small nooks and tables, not to mention rows and rows of bookshelves, were everywhere.
“Morgan, wait!” Draven cursed from behind her as the distance between them lengthened.
But she couldn’t wait.
She wouldn’t.
She leapt over a table, clearing it easily. Ever since they returned from their visit in the other realm, she’d been growing stronger…and so had her powers. She’d kept quiet about it, but it wouldn’t be long before they noticed. If they’d allowed her to train or hunt with them, they would’ve figured it out long before now.
She saw Loki’s barbed tail whip around the corner ahead of her, and she dashed forward to catch up.
When she turned the corner, she came to an abrupt stop, finding herself in a small alcove, the stone archway high above them revealing an elaborately decorated balcony.
The wooden banister was exquisitely carved with tiny designs of mythological creatures, and everywhere she looked she saw more and more creatures peeking out at her.
Below the balcony stood Loki. He was sitting on his haunches, looking up, his tail lashing like he’d found his prey. He hunkered down. Then, in a powerful display of muscles, leapt up into the air until his large paw reached out for purchase, but only grabbed air, his reach just inches short of the second floor, which was a good fifteen feet above him.
He spread his wings, flapping wildly, hovering for a few seconds before plummeting to the ground.
Only to do the same thing again and again.
“Morgan!” Draven rounded the corner, his weapons pulled as he quickly surveyed the tiny ten by twenty-foot room. When no scary monsters jumped out at him, he watched Loki pretend to be a yo-yo.
When the hound stopped abruptly, the very air seemed to still, and the mutt glanced around the room suspiciously before he spotted the table. He walked around it, then used his bulk to begin pushing it across the room, accompanied by the horrendous screech of the wooden legs on stone.
Draven glanced at her, then raised a brow. “Would you care to explain?”
She really didn’t.
“Fuck off.” She marched right up into his face, poking his chest with her finger, pleased when he began to backpedal. “You and the guys have been having meetings without me, keeping secrets again. Well, that’s just fine and dandy, but don’t you dare demand that I reveal every minute of my life when you won’t give me the same courtesy.”
He opened his mouth to protest then closed it. A shutter fell over his face, shadows clouded his eyes, and her heart dropped in defeat. She should’ve known better than to expect to be treated as an equal, even for a day.
She spun away so he wouldn’t see the devastation on her face, nearly snarling in frustration when she found the alcove empty.
“Ward!” As if calling him had summoned him, a figure stepped onto the balcony.
Loki instantly stopped his antics, leapt on the table without a second’s hesitation and stared up at Ward with a look of determination on his face.
The man hadn’t changed much. Pure magic from the void filled him, leaving his eyes a combination of silver and black, similar to a star-studded night, and just as never-ending. Even as she watched, the silver flecks flickered and moved, the colors separate until the black bled into pupils, leaving him gazing down at her with silver eyes.
The biggest change was his clothes. Instead of the courtly outfit decades out of date, he wore black slacks and a button-down shirt. It made him look dashing, if a little standoffish. His black, chin-length hair was slicked back, and she was secretly glad he hadn’t cut it.
“Do I meet your approval?”
Her bad mood evaporated. She hadn’t really expected him to show. Instead of being intimidated or embarrassed at being caught staring, she just shrugged and smirked. “You do.”
“Would you care to call off your…dog?” Ward peered down at Loki, and the two stared at each other in complete fascination. They were both creatures of the void…same as her.
“Loki…” She waited for him to look at her, his big tongue lolling out when their eyes met. He almost seemed to be grinning. “Don’t eat the strange man.”
Draven snorted and Ward sighed. “I suppose that will have to do.”
Ward took a step closer toward the ledge, like he was going to leap over the railing, but instead disappeared into thin air.<
br />
And reappeared only a few feet away from her.
She flinched at his nearness, automatically falling back a step, and it took a conscious effort to shake off the need to call for her weapons.
Loki gave a grumbling huff, whirling to face Ward, as if he’d known the moment the guy reappeared. They eyed each other suspiciously for one second before the hound slunk off the table and scurried into the stacks. She caught him peering over the tops of the books, spying on them between the shelves, only to duck away and reappear behind another pile a few feet away…stalking Ward.
Repressing her grin, she turned back toward Ward, curiosity getting the best of her. “How did you do that?”
He didn’t travel through a portal or anything so easy.
It was more like he stepped through time.
“A portal is external magic. Teleportation is internal magic.” Ward held out his arm, rubbing his fingers together, then snapped his hand open. An ancient book appeared in his palm. The leather binding was old and cracked, the spine creased and flaking, the gold-tipped pages faded and weathered. The almost stale scent of old books filled the room. “Witches are only able to use external magic.”
“And what are you?” Morgan automatically accepted the book when he offered it to her.
“We’re descendants of the gods. We don’t need to gather magic, we create it.” He nodded to the book, and she tightened her grip as if expecting him to snatch it back. “Open it. What do you see?”
The leather-bound journal tingled against her palms, like magic was escaping, inviting her to explore its pages. A little uncertain of what she’d find, she opened the cover. The pages were filled with a language that looked vaguely familiar, lots of sketches of complicated graphs and diagrams, not to mention more than a few marks in the margins. “What is it?”
“Magic.” He nodded to Draven. “Ask him what he sees.”
Everything inside her protested at the idea of handing over the book. When she didn’t obey immediately, Draven came to her side. A scowl marred his face, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of Ward or her shutting him out. He reached out to touch the leather edge, and Morgan snapped the book shut, pulling it tightly to her chest and quickly backing away, shocked at how possessive she was about the damn thing.
“The book is very rare, one of the few that escaped the destruction of the Library of Alexandria. This was one of three books that remain in the private vaults on Mount Olympus.” Ward nodded to her. “As you’ve guessed, it’s created from pure magic—void magic. It shows you what you need the most. In your case…magic.”
“The book has to be priceless. Why give it to me?” Nothing ever came free.
“This feels like a trap. Give it back.” Draven stepped between her and Ward, blocking her view of the man, as if he was afraid she was being unduly influenced. “We can find another way.”
But his promise was a lie, and they both knew it.
“Don’t.” She shook her head, never once taking her gaze away from him. “Just don’t. If you say another word, we will leave and go where you can’t interfere.”
She studied him sharply, waiting for him to protest. His mouth hardened into a thin line, a muscle ticked in his jaw, but he remained stubbornly quiet, and her heart sank, feeling like she was losing the last little bit of him. He ran a hand over his hair in pure frustration, then his chin dropped to his chest, and he blew out a heavy breath, silently accepting defeat.
Some of the tension went out of her spine, and she was surprised by the relief she felt at knowing he was staying. She wasn’t sure she was strong enough to hear what Ward had to say without Draven’s reassuring presence.
While she preferred working with her team, she needed more help than the guys could give her. Without knowing how to use magic, Morgan was vulnerable—which left the guys vulnerable—and that was unacceptable. She almost felt bad for treating Draven so shitty, but the sense of time running out tightened its grip on her throat.
She met Ward’s gaze, not able to dismiss her suspicions that nothing good ever came from a gift…there were always strings attached. “You didn’t answer. Why me?”
Against the back wall, shadows twisted, and a cold draft swarmed the room. Seconds later, a familiar figure emerged from the vast nothingness of pure darkness. “Oh, don’t let the Boy Scout fool you. The gift isn’t from him.”
“Shade!” Despite knowing Shade’s presence was about to make her life even more complicated, Morgan couldn’t suppress her grin. Draven might not have spoken, but his groan conveyed his feelings exactly, and she resisted rolling her eyes.
Though Shade promised to teach her magic as part of their deal to help him escape Tartarus, she hadn’t expected to see him again. Then her delight wilted when she considered the implications of him being earthside. “Are you allowed to be here?”
Shade ignored the question, suddenly fixated on straightening his shirt collar. He was dressed like he’d stepped out of an exclusive catalog, but she noticed he appeared somewhat rumpled.
The man was stunning, his hair black as midnight, the strands giving off an almost bluish sheen. His hair had gotten longer while he was gone, but it only made him look sexier. Combined with his pale complexion, violet blue eyes, not to mention muscular body, he was stunning, especially when he flashed his dimples in her direction.
He was a rogue through and through. He was much like a charming, naughty younger brother, and she knew it was only a matter of time before she got caught up in his shenanigans again. She just had to be smarter, stay one move ahead of him, so they wouldn’t both crash and burn.
“He’s been banished.” Ward pinched the bridge of his nose, as if the thought of dealing with Shade gave him a migraine. She understood the feeling. “Since you’ve marked him, he’s your problem now.”
“Excuse me?” That was the last thing Morgan expected to hear, and she gripped the back of the chair in front of her with one hand to keep her legs from buckling. “Tell me you’re joking.”
She glanced between the two guys, but their solemn gazes met hers.
They were telling the fucking truth.
“No.” Morgan shook her head and backed away. No way could she be responsible for the safety of a god.
Nope.
Not going to do it.
She narrowed her eyes dangerously at Shade. “What did you do to get yourself banished?”
“Nothing, really I promise.” His eyes widened at her harsh tone, his attention latching onto the magic that began to swirl around her as her agitation increased, and he lifted his hands in surrender.
He smiled unabashedly, as if trying to appear innocent…and failing miserably.
“Explain.” She turned toward Ward, struggling to repress the magic seeking to escape and create chaos.
“The other realm is still full of unrest, and a third of the population has either evacuated earthside or been turned into the primitive versions of themselves.” Shadows darkened the hollows below Ward’s eyes, the poor man was exhausted. “If they discovered a god was loose, chaos would ensue. Those hungry for power won’t be able to stop themselves from hunting him down to take his magic for their own.”
Shade’s carefree expression slipped, his eyes hardening at the thought of being hunted and sacrificed. He just barely escaped that fate from his own people. How ironic that it followed him to this new world.
“So you were banished for your own protection?” Something about the answer felt off. Shade looked a bit too angelic to be believed. “I’m calling bullshit.”
Ward and Shade exchanged a look, as if trying to decide on their story, and her annoyance got the better of her. She’d had enough of secrets. “The truth, please.”
Ward sighed, not shying away from her censure, his eyes dropping betrayingly to the book in her hands. “Shade was caught stealing that book. When we were brought before the king, he decided that it would be best to banish him.”
Morgan’s brain stalled at the mention of
the king, her chest tightening as she gazed down at the book. “You stole it anyway.”
She knew Shade well enough that she wouldn’t put it past him, getting queasy just thinking about it.
But banished as a punishment?
Highly unlikely. Shade had an agenda, something that had to do with her. “You orchestrated this whole thing, didn’t you? It’s time to tell me why.”
As if reading her thoughts, Shade smirked, but she refused to be swayed when his stunning dimples made an appearance. He was too damn charming for his own good, but she wasn’t fooled.
“It’s not enough that people want to kill me?” He raised a brow at her in challenge.
For anyone else, she would’ve believed the innocent act, but not from him. “No.”
Shade’s smugness faded, his eyes turning deadly serious. “My transition into this world cost me a great deal of power. As much as you hate to admit it, helping you has left me vulnerable. I believe when you gain full control of your magic, I’ll likewise be freed from the restrictions binding me.”
Things began to make more sense.
While she could sympathize with him being unable to protect himself, she very much doubted that giving him back his power was the brightest idea.
As if reading her thoughts, Shade met her gaze directly. “You may doubt me, but I’m looking out for our best interests.”
Morgan snorted, but he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted. “You won’t always like my methods, but your safety will always be a priority for me…on that you have my word.”
As if sensing her unease, Loki popped out from behind Shade, and she struggled to suppress her laugh as the hound began to stalk the god. Shade straightened abruptly, squinting at her cheerful expression. Something dark moved in the depths of his narrowed eyes—a harsh reminder that he was not human—and he began to search the room.
She knew the instant he spotted Loki. His eyes widened, and he whistled appreciatively. The gardog chose that second to pounce, landing between her and the others, his pose playful, his butt wiggling in the air. The two of them eyed each other carefully. “Yours, I take it?”
Claimed by the Assassins (An Academy of Assassins Novel Book 3) Page 7
