Sitting in the cafeteria one day, I realized I hadn’t even registered the uniformed officers at the door until one of them went over to a group of noisy students and wrote out a few foibles. Was this how dictatorships began? Slowly, a trickle at a time until you didn’t even notice you were being worn down to nothing?
What did I know? We weren’t allowed to study history any longer, and I didn’t have time to go out of my way to study it on my own. My life consisted of learning cleaning spells and dinner party etiquette until I wanted to gag on my freshly polished silverware set.
Even the Rogue Witch seemed to have lost a little steam. She was still “disturbing the peace” like Nyquist called it, but not as eagerly as at the beginning of the semester. Though, a week ago she’d made all males grow donkey tails if they simply dared glance in a witch’s direction. It had been quite fun to watch.
We hadn’t heard anything further from anyone, no word yet on Tempest or Fedorov or Lynssa. I’d done a bit of skulking around the Academy, but there was no sign of Tempest. No word from Nyquist about the fight at all.
He was busy, talking about some sort of event he’d named the Magic Leadership Summit, planning the invite list which included Drew’s father and some other International Magical Dignitaries. He had me writing out addresses in calligraphy until my fingers seized up. Worse, I had to arrange table seating, making sure not to sit any of the stuffy so-and-sos next to someone they disliked. And, apparently, a lot of wizards in the magical community hated each other.
The party was scheduled for Homecoming weekend, still three weeks away, but it seemed to be Nyquist’s biggest priority. I’d heard from Drew that his father, though not totally convinced by what his son was saying, was concerned by what he was hearing and wanted to see the campus for himself. Nyquist was likely feeling the pressure. If he didn’t make it seem like the Supernatural Academy was thriving under new leadership, he might lose his position and his access to all the power he’d gained.
It was curious. After all the things I’d seen him do last year, all the power he’d collected by abducting those Loopers, killing one of them and using their power to slow down time, I hadn’t seen any evidence he was using those powers now. He seemed perfectly content to let Ponomarenko do his dirty work while he controlled things using manipulation, fear, and reward, old tricks that always seemed to work. People craved power and prestige no matter what decade.
Either way, the party was the priority and he had me working late hours in his office, long past when I should be in bed. The good news was I could pass my new course load in my sleep. The bad news was I would often catch up on lost sleep in class, which made Mrs. Bass and my other teachers pretty irritable.
It didn’t matter. I was Nyquist’s pet. No one could fail me. I tried not to enjoy the power I received just by being associated with the dean. If I did, I’d be just like those asshats, Pierce and Cruise.
One night, after a particularly vigorous letter-stuffing session, I dragged my aching body off to a spare office next to Nyquist’s, stretching the kinks out of my back and neck. It was long past office hours and all the other doors down the administration hallway were closed. Wiggling my sore fingers, I magically closed Nyquist’s door and locked it, intent on getting to bed as soon as possible.
That is until voices stopped me.
Several males with baritone and tenor tones were having a conversation from deep inside the building, an area I’d never visited. The main entrance led to the wing of administration offices where I stood, then a fancy lounge, some restrooms, and some larger meeting spaces. There was a second floor and a basement that I’d yet to set foot in, but I assumed it was more of the same—polished wood, leather furniture, and men discussing the merits of object magic versus gesture magic.
I was about to dismiss the conversation as something mundane when I heard a word that stopped me in my tracks.
“... Tempest.”
My ears pricked up. Had I heard right?
“What a ridiculous name,” they went on. I thought I recognized Cruise’s father’s voice, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Stupid.” This voice was definitely Cruise, and the insipid laughter had to be Pierce’s.
“Enough talk,” Nyquist cut in, silencing all. “Let’s get this business over with.”
“Someone is listening,” another voice said.
Shit, they were onto me. I turned to run, but suddenly my legs were stone. Magic wove around me, trapping me on the spot as my heart pattered against my frozen rib cage.
Footsteps pounded in my direction until six male figures turned the corner—Regent Knightley with his son, Cruise. Regent Huntington and his son, Pierce. And Regent Dromgoole and Dean Nyquist.
“Oh,” Nyquist said, spying me. “It’s just Charlie.”
“Just Charlie?” Regent Knightley said with narrow eyes. Somehow he’d never trusted me, even after I’d captured Kiana for them and had been their good little girl this whole time.
Nyquist waved a hand and the motionless spell fell from my limbs. I stumbled forward, glancing awkwardly between the men.
“I was just completing the envelopes for the summit, sir. I was going to go home and come back to finish the rest tomorrow.” I tried to sound subservient, taking solace in the fact that I was lying to six powerful men who seemed to believe me.
“That’s fine, Charlie. Just fine,” Nyquist said, waving a hand to dismiss me.
Perfect. They would let me go and I would circle around with Fedorov’s box to find out exactly what they were planning with Tempest. Could she be here on campus?
Regent Knightley’s voice cut in before I could scurry off. “Charlie should come.”
The men exchanged glances.
“Charlie?” Nyquist asked.
“Yes,” Knightley said firmly.
An older version of Cruise, his blue eyes were cold and emotionless and he used them to look down his nose at people, just the way he was using them on me right now. Thinning gray hair clung to a shiny head that seemed to be shedding its covering, though I guessed Knightley used spells to keep the few strands he had. His regent’s robe matched the others, long and dark brown with a gold pin that marked his status on his chest. He wasn’t bad looking for an older man until you factored in his personality. Then, he was an absolute nightmare.
“Let her prove herself,” he added.
“She’s just a witch,” Cruise said dismissively, running his eyes down my body before screwing his face up in disgust. “She can’t handle it.”
My eyes darted to him, wanting to show him exactly what I could handle, but I let it drop.
“I can help if you need me,” I said to Dean Nyquist.
His old eyes studied me for a moment. “Fine. We could use another set of hands. Come.” He gestured that I should follow.
My heart beating out of my chest, I walked behind the group toward the back of the building. We took a left and suddenly there was a set of descending steps I’d never seen before. They were dimly lit and narrow as if they were hewn right out of the earth.
“Down there,” Knightley said, indicating I should go first.
It all felt like a trap, these creepy stairs and the men glaring at me, but I had to go. This was the opportunity I’d been waiting for.
With as much confidence as I could, I held my chin high and began to descend. The air grew preternaturally cold. The farther I went, the darker it became. Soon, I needed a witch light just to see the next step. The stairs seemed to continue down into the bowels of the earth, twisting around in strange ways before finally leveling off, revealing a long, dark cave.
The men came down behind me, their own witch lights casting long, ominous shadows. Nyquist shambled down last, running a hand over his wispy white hair.
“Where to?” I asked.
Knightley gestured around the bend, a space just out of view. The crackle of dark magic tingled my senses like a foul smell.
Every muscle in my body tightened, but th
is was a test in a long series of them. They wanted to see how I would react.
Steeling myself, I strode around the corner.
And there she was.
Tempest was suspended in the air, hovering over the dirt floor, her long hair obscuring her face as her head hung limp. Her limbs stuck out as if she were being pulled in four directions by invisible ropes. But where arms and legs normally extended in straight lines, hers were twisted at odd angles as if they’d been broken and repaired improperly.
Torture. They’d tortured her.
Bile rose in my throat. I didn’t like her, but this…
“She… this Tempest knows where our enemies hide,” Nyquist said her name like a curse, stepping beside me. His foul breath tickled my ear. “We need to find out exactly where they are. She has been… difficult to say the least.” He glanced up at her and then at me. “Why don’t we see if you can get the information out of her, Charlie? See if you can talk some sense into her.”
“Me?”
Everything in me recoiled. I couldn’t torture Tempest. It was wrong, not to mention the fact that Rowan would never forgive me. She was one of the only people he’d been able to turn to when he hit bottom, and for all I knew, he had feelings for her.
Then again, she’d trapped us in that warehouse with Sebastian Mink. If it hadn’t been for her, maybe Macgregor Underwood would still be alive. Maybe none of this awful new reality would be happening.
As I stared at her sagging form, her head lifted. Bloodshot eyes found me.
“Charlie?” she asked through cracked lips. Her face pleaded for mercy and a small flicker of hope lit in her eyes as if I was here to rescue her.
If I wasn’t quick, she’d give me away. Everything I’d done so far would be for nothing, and I would find myself next to her, strung up like a cut of beef.
I couldn’t let that happen. If I got trapped here, I’d be no help to anyone.
Charging my cuffs with electricity, I gave her a cold stare. “Where are they?”
Her split lip trembled. “Don’t. Please.” Her voice betrayed how broken she was. How much she’d already endured.
It gutted me.
Still, I had to. I had no choice.
Nyquist stepped closer. “Do it.”
I closed my eyes. The magic gathered at my wrists and shot out of my hands.
Tempest screamed.
The sound gutted me further, but I kept the magic flowing as her screams crescendoed and turned into the tortured howl of a dying animal.
“More,” Nyquist shouted over the sound. “More!”
This was insane. I was going to kill her. God, what was I doing?! It had to stop. It didn’t matter if my cover was blown.
I cut off the flow of magic, falling to my knees as tears gathered at the backs of my eyes. What had I become?
Tempest made tortured moaning sounds at the back of her throat and I was soon to join her. They’d all seen me for what I was.
A figure stepped over me, blocking me from the others. When I glanced up, Cruise met my gaze with a strange look on his face.
“I told you she couldn’t handle it,” he said. “Weak female. They don’t have the stomach for it. Pathetic.” His voice was laced with disgust as he leaned down and grabbed my arm.
“Get out of here. You don’t want to see this,” he whispered in my ear before yanking me to my feet. “Stupid witch,” he said out loud. “Go back to the kitchen where you belong.”
Pierce laughed.
I blinked through tears at the hard male faces regarding me. They didn’t think I was a traitor. They thought I was a little girl, too weak to stomach the violence.
Nyquist shook his head as if disappointed, but he didn’t slap me in irons. “Leave us,” he said, shooing me away.
My eyes landed on Cruise who was ahead of the rest so they couldn’t see his expression. He gave me a small nod, then twisted his face into a mask of hatred before readying a spell to shoot at Tempest.
He’d saved me. Why?
But it didn’t matter. I had to get out of here and get help. I couldn’t save Tempest alone, not now with six powerful wizards around me. The best I could do was leave and return with backup.
I didn’t look back as I bolted up the stairs and away from the torture as Cruise began his work.
Her howling screams echoed in my head long after I’d left.
Chapter Nineteen
FALL SEMESTER
EARLY OCTOBER
I ran through campus headed toward the all-male Senior Dorm, passing a group of guys horsing around on the lawn. They jeered as I rushed by, but I ignored them. I had to get to Rowan. I needed help to rescue Tempest. They were going to kill her if I didn’t do something. I had used magic on her to cause pain. God, if she died, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
I would be no better than Nyquist and the rest.
My heart pounded in time with my legs. The sound of my breaths filled my head, and I wanted to drown in it so I wouldn’t have to hear the echoes of Tempest’s screams.
Rowan would know what to do. We would rescue her and make it all better. I wanted to believe this even as a small voice inside my head told me we couldn’t do such a thing. If we acted now, we would make everything worse. We would get captured and be no help to Lynssa and the others. We had to think of the big picture, of all those whose lives were at stake.
Still, I couldn’t do nothing. I’d tried that last year and things had gotten much worse.
Tears streaked my face, slashing down my cheeks. I blinked and blinked but they kept coming, blurring my vision, preventing me from seeing what was right in front of my path: an M.L.E. officer.
I slammed into him and bounced back. Arms windmilling to regain my balance, I staggered to a stop. My face hurt as if I’d hit a wall. I pressed a hand to my cheek. He regarded me from his considerable height as if I were a flea. He had a broad face with a jaw like that of a horse. Blond, almost white, spiky hair topped his flat head.
“You’re out past your bedtime, little girl. This will cost you ten foibles,” he spat, pulling out a counter from his pocket and clicking it ten times. The number twenty-nine glowed in midair, an orange color that was just one shade below red.
The M.L.E. officer huffed, disappointed. Thirty foibles would get me into the red zone, which meant lockdown in Witch Cove for two full days.
“Get back to your dorm right this second or I’ll give you one more foible,” he said through a crooked smile that let me know he was about to do just that. Apparently, he got off on punishing female students while males acted like asses just yards away.
The desperation that had kept me running slowly morphed into fury. This man wore the face of everything that was wrong with the Academy. Before, when Lynssa had been here, the campus had felt warm and welcoming. Now, it was cold and disquieting. More and more students were leaving, including males who were too decent to put up with this crap. Some had even tried to protest, but they had been expelled on the spot. However, other males were arriving to take their places, and they had far less scruples. In fact, they were enrolling precisely because of the new rules and regulations. Like the M.L.E., they got off on their new-found power and status.
Slowly, anger seething in my chest, I took a step forward, holding the man’s gaze. My cuffs flashed brightly in obvious defiance.
“Ho, ho,” he laughed in pleasure and clicked his little counter again. The number thirty glowed above my head accompanied by a warning siren. “I’ve got me a little rebel.”
He tried to grab my wrist—M.L.E. officers wasted no time in teleporting you straight to your dorm to begin your punishment—but, as soon as he touched me, he snatched his hand back with a foul curse.
“You burned me,” he said, just as the smell of charred meat hit my nostrils.
“Don’t touch me,” I said and his face seemed to morph into Nyquist’s, the one I truly hated. “You have no right. I will kill you if you lay another finger on me.”
; I let my cuffs charge with the same magic I’d used on Tempest. He would feel what she’d felt.
His eyes flashed to my wrists, then he lifted his hand, preparing his own attack. This was it. All that I’d endured trying to discover Nyquist’s plans would be for nothing. Still, I didn’t care. Aradia’s cuffs would serve me right tonight. I would test their limits.
The M.L.E. officer’s eyes went wide, his back stiffened, then he fell unconscious to the ground.
I blinked, stared at my cuffs, then back at him.
What the hell? Were the cuffs that powerful? All this time, had I only needed to use my thoughts to make them work?
“Well, that was about to be a disaster.” Bridget materialized behind the officer. Her shape solidifying out of a cloaking spell.
My mind went askew. Bridget? What? When?
I shook myself, trying to understand. How was she using a cloaking spell? More importantly… how had she knocked down an M.L.E. officer without causing all the rest of them to come down on us like angry wasps?
While I stared unable to process, she leaned down and touched the M.L.E. officer’s temple with the tip of her finger. A zap of blue electricity shot into his head, causing his entire body to twitch.
“There,” Bridget said, straightening. “He won’t remember a thing when he wakes up. Plus, I cleared your foibles down to zero.” She gave me a friendly smile, the kind I hadn’t seen from her for a long time. “Come.” She wrapped an arm around my back and, next thing I knew, we were materializing in front of the lake.
I glanced around, realizing we were standing near the same spot where we’d astral projected a few days back. It seemed Bridget also knew the tattling spells didn’t reach this far.
Bridget waved a hand at one of the trees. One of its branches came down, creaking and shaping itself into a bench much like the ones the fae were known to make. Damn. Impressive. It seemed she’d been studying this summer.
Senior Witch, Fall Semester Page 13
