by Sarina Dorie
“I didn’t know Balthasar was an orphan.” So many of my students were. It was so unfair.
“Indeed. Their mother died Balthasar’s first year here. His grades dropped drastically, and he wasn’t able to participate in pegasus polo. I suspect he lost just about everything he loved that year, save for his sister, though she was busy and employed elsewhere, too far away to do much good.”
That was so sad. “It’s no wonder he acts like a brat.”
“I suspect that might change. Camelia has forced Balthasar to come to my classroom twice for tutoring. She’s a good influence on him. And I suspect she will be faithful in the duties of her job.” He paused. “Though, not to the point of being intrusive as some staff are.”
I doubted Vega would agree with that after Camelia had searched our room or that Grandmother Bluehorse felt like Camelia wasn’t intrusive from the way she’d hauled off her medicinal marijuana.
“Are we ever going to get to snuggle together again? With invisible security and a Fae spying on us?”
“You did bring up homework, did you not?” Thatch’s eyes danced. “My homework is to ensure no one invisible or incorporeal visit us unannounced during the waking hours.”
It sounded like we both needed to practice that skill.
He planted a peck on my lips. “Your homework is to practice lucid-dreaming techniques to close your mind to outside forces during waking hours. If we are both diligent, I believe we can find a way to create privacy one way or another. Should you succeed in meditating before bed and practice lucid-dreaming techniques, I believe you will find yourself experiencing some very good dreams tonight.”
I could easily have allowed myself to get distracted from my mission to secretly help Thatch gain Khaba’s favor and do more research to find the identity of the Princess of Lies and Truth or anything on the Lost Red Court, but I made time to go to Gertrude Periwinkle after dinner. The library was still open, so at least I didn’t need to use a password.
“Hi.” I waved, seeing her stamping books as she checked them back in behind the counter.
She wore a witch hat, the skulls and dead flowers weighing one side down so that the brim partially hid her face. She smiled at me, greeting me with a library-quiet whisper.
I glanced around, seeing no students. I kept my voice quiet anyway. “I was wondering if you wanted to do some research in your newest favorite place.”
She hesitated. “I would like to . . . but I have plans tonight before curfew. A meeting.”
“Plans?” I waggled my eyebrows. “As in a date? With a certain invisible man?”
Her cheeks flushed pink, and she pressed a finger to her lips. “Not a date. We are discussing business. Library books.”
Sure. Just like Vega had a business relationship with Elric. Why did everyone’s business arrangements always have to deal with sex too?
“If there’s another night when you aren’t ‘taking care of business,’ and you want to go down there, let me know.” It was always better for her to come to me than the reverse. Gertrude Periwinkle went by the rules. If I showed her gratitude, I might be indebted to her.
“It isn’t like that,” she said. “I just want my library books back. The ones Rudy McDougal confiscated. He said he hasn’t handed them over to the principal yet.”
I was sure Rudy hadn’t smelled like her perfume that morning because they’d been “discussing” library books. I shrugged. Then again, it depended on how hard she was trying to convince him.
“How about tomorrow night?” I asked.
She nodded. “Check in with me after dinner.”
I couldn’t work on Plan A, or Plan B, so that meant I got to do something nice for me. I meditated in my bedroom while Vega got ready for bed. I fell asleep quickly and practiced lucid-dreaming techniques during my dreams. Thatch didn’t invite himself into the sunset on the beach dream, nor into my Monet garden with the waterlilies under the bridge. I wondered what was taking him so long. Maybe he didn’t know how to get into my dreams.
I traveled out of my mind and into the barren landscape of stars, searching for his light. He was easy to spot. So few red lights were nearby. Thatch hadn’t liked it before when I’d invited myself into his dream without permission. He’d implied he wanted to spend time with me tonight, but I hesitated at the red door. I knocked. No one answered the door.
Tentatively, I opened it. He stood just within, one hand holding his pocket watch. He arched an eyebrow at me. “Did it truly take you this long to master control of yourself tonight? If so, you need to practice more often.”
“No, I was waiting for you,” I said.
The landscape around him was unbearably white. I squinted at the brilliance of it.
He pursed his lips, his expression indicating I was the silly one. “I was waiting for you.”
“You can’t leave your own dreams?”
“I can. I just prefer you to do the work.” He hadn’t ever actually invited himself into my dreams as far as I knew. The only place I’d seen him in this strange realm was when I pulled him into my dreams, in his dreams, or when I’d tried to get into Derrick’s dream that one time. I suspected he could leave his own mind, he just wasn’t a natural at it from his previous comments.
He tugged me over the threshold. I had at first thought his dream was a blank canvas, but now I realized the white around him was snow. My feet crunched over the white powder.
I wasn’t dressed for the cold, but neither was he. Nor was it actually cold. The giant flakes glided around us in a dance that didn’t touch us. It took me a moment to realize it was the front courtyard of the school, though the flurries drifted down so thickly I could scarcely see more than a gray impression of architecture beyond the thick sheets of snowfall. I wondered whether Thatch had chosen this location because it was where we had gotten in a snowball fight and laughed together that day or it was significant for a different reason.
The ground here was pristine and perfect compared to the trails that had been trodden into the snow that day. There were no screeching students. It was quiet, and we were alone as I had wanted us to be that day.
One minute I was there beside him in the sanctuary of snow, and then next I was in that memory. The fabric of Thatch’s dream wavered. He was rolling in the snow beside me as I tickled him and shoved snow down his jacket. He threw powder in my face, laughing.
Unlike that day, my fingers didn’t grow numb. Nothing was actually cold. Snow tasted like vanilla ice cream as it touched my tongue. This moment was perfect, exactly what we made of it.
Thatch closed his arms around me, pulling me snug against him. I inhaled his scent of oil paints, lavender, and starlight. He brought his lips to mine. It was heaven to be alone with him at last. I could have gotten lost in the winter of his kiss, cold and then heat flaring through me.
If we’d been rolling around in real snow, it would have melted into hot puddles and soaked our clothes for the amount of warmth we were giving off. I kissed a line across his jaw and down his neck to the edge of his cravat.
“Some people make snow angels. I’m pretty sure we’re making snow devils,” I laughed.
“You do tempt me.” He drew back. “Business first.”
“Monkey business?” I teased.
“No. Your lesson.” His expression turned serious. “We need to check for visitors and practice wards while sleeping, a tricky matter considering you haven’t yet learned rudimentary wards while awake. After we achieve that, and we know we are alone, then we can move on from business to more pleasant affairs.”
“Is my teacher going to give me a reward if I prove I’m not a dunce?” I teased.
“Indeed. And you’ll reward me if I prove to be an excellent teacher. I’ll get the stick. You get the carrot.”
I decided I liked lucid dreaming almost as much as spending time with Thatch in person. I could almost believe the sex was real. There also was the advantage that Thatch could co
me inside me in a dream because it was an illusion. It gave our relationship some semblance of being ordinary. I was able to cuddle with him all night that way.
He read me excerpts from Little House on the Prairie in front of an old-fashioned fireplace, a handmade quilt wrapped around us. I was fairly certain this was his fantasy, to live a normal Morty life in a little cottage, the world a place of simple rules.
“Do you think we’ll be able to do this all night every night?” I asked.
“Dreaming together? Or reading from this book?” He swept my pink hair from my forehead.
“Dreaming together.”
“We can try.”
Six o’clock in the morning rolled around far too fast. I was surprised how tired I was for having gone to bed as early as I had. I slept through Vega getting up, and would have slept in longer, except that she splashed cold water across my face.
“Get up, midget. I’m not getting in trouble for you being late to homeroom,” she said.
I forced myself to rise. Maybe I had overdone it on the lucid dreaming. Using magic had taken some of my energy for the day, which was why I resorted to coffee, the fuel of the gods—and witchy teachers.
After school, Thatch was gone recruiting.
In Study Club, Imani said, “It’s too bad Mr. Thatch can’t be here today.”
“I’m pretty sure we can survive without God’s gift to all Celestors,” Hailey said.
A grunt came from the corner. When I projected my awareness, I found Rudy in the corner by the racks of drying pottery that would need to wait another week before I fired up the last batch. With my luck, he would probably find a bong or something else illicit that a student had made.
His unexpected presence reminded me that the sanctuary of my classroom was no longer a place I could speak freely. I hung on every word my students said, uncertain whether they might give away the relationship they suspected was blooming between Thatch and me.
At dinner, I performed my teacher duty, patrolling the cafeteria for a while before grabbing a plate and sitting beside Josie. The spaghetti dinner and garlic bread was almost as good as at a restaurant. Thatch seated himself farther down the teacher table beside Pro Ro. His eyes met mine for a brief moment before turning to the food.
As I lifted a slice of garlic bread, I felt a hand on my knee. I jumped, banging my leg against the table as I stood.
“What?” Josie asked.
“Nothing. I just thought, um, nothing.” I glanced under the table. There weren’t any disembodied hands lurking there.
Josie spotted a spider on the table. “Oh, sorry. I bet my little friend doesn’t make the best dinner companion.” She scooped up the spider and dropped the little guy to the floor.
I projected my awareness beyond myself, trying to identify where Rudy was. He stood out in the hall monitoring students. I risked a glance at Thatch. A sneaky little smile laced his lips.
That dirty trickster! Two could play at this game. I waited until he had his mouth full of pasta before launching an attack. I used my astral sense to tickle Thatch in the ribs. He jerked back in his chair.
Josie followed my gaze. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to hex Thatch.” A slight exaggeration.
She grinned. “Is it working?”
“Not really.”
“That’s probably for the best.” She sighed. “I don’t think our new principal would take kindly to teachers hexing each other. I thought Khaba was a stickler, but Mr. Dean is seriously the worst. One of the kids overheard me yell at Vega that I would hex her mouth closed and repeated it. He questioned me for forty minutes about it because he was trying to determine if I actually meant it.”
If we were lucky, Josie might bite this principal too.
A tickling sensation crept over my knee. Thatch hadn’t yet taught me how to repel other people’s minds. I didn’t know how to defend myself against his psychic attack if he tickled me back, only how to sense and potentially let someone else sense me.
Thatch’s hand slid up my leg. It felt as though he’d slipped his fingers under my skirt. His thumb caressed higher, brushing against my inner thigh.
Josie talked about the new principal, but I couldn’t concentrate. All I could think about was how naughty this was. It was unlike Thatch to be so risky. Then again, we weren’t actually touching each other. We were still following school rules. No one in the entire room knew what we were up to. I tried to go about eating and pretending everything was normal. Invisible fingers caressed between my legs. I closed my eyes, willing myself to keep my breath even. It felt as if he were cupping my breasts.
“Clarissa, are you all right?” Josie asked.
“I think this spaghetti is giving me heartburn.” I covered my face with my hands, subtly glancing down at my chest to make sure my clothes still remained intact. Even though I felt the pressure of his hand on my breast, there was no movement of my clothes or indication that my flesh was being touched.
I excused myself early from dinner.
Thatch called out to me in the hall. “Miss Lawrence, do you still have a need for recycled paper? I have some in my classroom.”
“Yeah, sure. I imagine you might give me some . . . teaching tips while I’m there.” Probably he would lecture me on the necessity of keeping myself guarded and tell me this was a teachable moment that I had failed to seize.
Thatch locked his office door behind us. I attempted to stretch my awareness beyond myself to ensure his office was safe. He took my face in his hands and kissed me.
I laughed. “Did you lure me here under false pretenses? I don’t see any recycling.”
He slid his hand under my shirt, smoothing his fingers along my spine. “I’m certain it’s around here somewhere.”
He dipped his face toward mine again.
“I bet I have garlic breath,” I turned my face away, teasing him.
“I’m certain you’re right.” He kissed me anyway. “Mmm. I’m uncertain. I need another test.”
He kissed me more deeply. “Indeed. You have garlic breath. I don’t know if I’ll survive.”
He left me breathless.
“You have garlic breath too,” I managed.
“That makes us even.”
He pressed me up against the door, kissing me passionately. His erection poked into me, insistent and demanding my attention. I moaned against his mouth. His tongue probed deeper. My core ached. The night before had been a fantasy. This was so much better.
“I want you,” he said. “You tempt me more thoroughly than any other woman.”
I had wanted him when his mind had touched me. Now I really was hot for him.
“What about security? Or getting caught?” I asked. This was so unlike him to take risks. Not that I minded.
“Camelia told me it’s her shift tonight. Rudy McDougal has the morning shift.”
Nice. A former student turned security guard who was willing to give Thatch the inside scoop had its perks.
“What about Khaba?” I asked.
“Off campus. He and the principal are attending a school-board meeting tonight. A boring school-board meeting full of people they’ll probably dislike.” He trailed his face between my breasts, hooking a finger around the collar of my shirt and pulling it lower so that he could kiss my bare flesh.
It sounded like he’d thought of everything. I would probably be late to my appointment with Gertrude in the library. I kind of felt bad about standing her up, but not that bad. She’d made her sex life a priority over forbidden knowledge the day before.
Ten minutes later, we were naked in his bed. It didn’t take me long to come. Not after all the clandestine sexy time we’d just had in the cafeteria.
He kissed my temple and nuzzled into my hair. “How about a shower?”
After the last time when he’d set the curtains of his canopy bed on fire, it seemed a solution with water nearby was the safest way for him to come. I
suspected that was how our sex life was going to be unless I found a third person to help me with that fireproof spell or Vega actually assisted me with it.
He must have been more excited than usual, as well. In the shower, he came in record time. Afterward, we snuggled in bed again.
“We should do this more often in the evening during dinner break.” He wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled closer. “Administration is busy enough watching students in the cafeteria and ensuring they aren’t up to mischief in the hallway. Dinner break is the perfect time to sneak away unnoticed.”
I pinched his arm playfully. “I’m pretty sure Josie is going to notice if I start skipping every meal.”
“I imagine if you skip every meal, you’ll also starve. Perhaps it would be more prudent to only skip every other meal.”
“What inspired you to be so . . . naughty tonight?” I asked. “Is this what happens when we dream of each other all night? Our subconscious puts sexy thoughts in our heads during the day?”
“I’m not naughty. You were naughty.” He nibbled on my neck. “I thought about chastising you, but ultimately I decided I liked this dangerous side to you.”
“What do you mean? How am I the bad one here?” I laughed. He was always telling me to be less dangerous. Nor was I even sure what I might have done that warranted such a compliment. Tickling wasn’t that bad.
I turned just enough to see his expression.
He grinned. “I thought I was going to come at the dinner table. If I hadn’t pushed your awareness away and stopped you when I did, I might have sent the table up in smoke.”
“What do you mean?” Was he insinuating that making me aroused had aroused him? No, it sounded like he thought I had touched him.
He hugged me more tightly. “I mean, you are very skilled at arousing me. You knew the right amount of pain and pleasure to make it difficult to control myself. I’ve never been given a psychic hand job before, but I could handle another one.” He snickered. “Hand-le. Now I’m speaking puns like you and Khaba. What have you done to me?”
