Academy of Sorcery: Term 2: Fallen Master

by Alexa B. James

  My luck has run out. The knob holds fast.

  Seeing that I’m trapped, Orville grins with malicious victory and points the sword straight at my heart. He presses the tip to my chest, his eyes gleaming with triumph. “Pour your magic into your vessel,” he says. “You’re so full of it you won’t even notice. And you can make more! I can’t do that, Jade. That’s why you’re going to help me.”

  “Like hell,” I growl, grabbing Cleo’s blade to push her away. “You had your chance. You had a nice long life filled with incredibly strong magic. Now it’s my turn to live. I’m not going to be someone’s magical cow locked in your basement while you milk out my magic. Fuck that shit.”

  “I know how you got so strong,” Orville hisses, his lips pulling back from his yellowed teeth. He presses the sword harder to my chest, refusing to let me push it away. “Don’t think I don’t know about you and Darius. You don’t want him to lose his job, do you? Because of you and your magic, too. But I could help you manage it.”

  For one second, I consider it. I mean, maybe he’s on to something. I have too much magic to manage by myself. Why not let it help an old man live? If it means Darius keeps his job…

  But then I hear the voices outside the door. “She’s here!” a male voice calls. Running footsteps approach the door.

  “We’ve got to break through the door.”

  “We can’t go to the basement.”

  “No, she’s not in the basement anymore. She’s here!”

  And I remember that he compelled them all to stay here so they couldn’t help me. He stole my father’s life force, kidnapped him and tied him to a chair. I’m not helping this psycho.

  Cleo buzzes in my hand, and though I thought she was betraying me, I know now that I was wrong. Her energy, her magic, is aligned with mine. If I could trust no one else on earth, I could trust her. She fits in my hand like a kitten, comforting and warm, but I know her power is that of a lion. I grip her tighter, not caring that the edges of her blade cut into my fingers. She begins to glow a soft blue with magic. I pour more magic into her, flood her with it, drown her in it, until she’s throbbing with a blinding, electric blue light.

  Orville’s eyes brighten, a grin spreading across his face. “There you go,” he croons, his teeth gnashing with greed. “Give it all to me.”

  I don’t give it to him, though. I give it to Cleo. I grip her as tight as I can, pushing back against the blade. “You think I’m going to help you so you can lock me in your basement and have men come fuck me to build up my magic so you can steal it all over again?” I ask. “Not happening, asshole.”

  I shove back against the blade until Orville braces himself and forces it back to my chest. When his full weight it leaned on it, I can feel blood dripping from my hands that grip the blade.

  This is it, Cleo. We got this, girl.

  With one swift movement, I dive to one side, releasing the blade. The sword plunges into the door, and I fall aside, scrambling to keep from tumbling off the side of stairs. A pop sounds, like a jar being opened and releasing the suction, and a twinkling of magic rains down over me like fairy dust.

  Orville bellows with fury, but I know there’s no time to celebrate my victory. I gave Cleo enough magic to break his spell, but she’s still not in my hands. Before I can scramble to my feet, the door is yanked off its hinges and flung across the foyer on the other side. I blink against the bright light as I’m grabbed and dragged through the door and onto my feet. Instead of finding Orville’s guards, I find myself surrounded by my little team of armed sorcerers and friends, all of them aiming their weapons at Orville except Ryker, who holds me tightly from behind.

  “No,” Orville cries, his voice quavering. “I must defeat the Priestess to live!”

  “You want to defeat Jade, you’re going to have to come through all of us,” Rocco says, brandishing his club.

  “Don’t hurt him,” Bella Lu shrieks. “He’s a helpless old man.”

  “Helpless, my ass,” I say. “He’s been stealing your magic, and he kidnapped my dad and almost killed him.”

  “You don’t deserve such magic,” Orville howls. “I was so close! It was almost mine!”

  He charges from the basement and straight at me, Cleo clutched in his gnarled hand. Thorn steps into his path, deftly grabbing the headmaster’s arm and spinning him away from me.

  “Give me the magic,” Orville shrieks, clearly mad with hunger for my power. He rushes wildly toward me. Suddenly, Professor Darius’s hand shoots out, and Orville stops dead in his tracks. He hangs in midair for a second and then blasts backwards through the wall. Ryker releases me, spins on his heel, and races out the front door, Topher close behind him as they go to retrieve Orville before he escapes.

  Where Orville stood, Cleo hangs in the air like a bolt of lightning.

  “Come to Mama,” I whisper, holding out a hand. With a zap of magic, she transforms into a spork and shoots across the room, landing hard in my hand. I feel my magic pouring back into me, flowing between us in perfect harmony. I clutch my little metal spork to my chest, a glow of warmth filling my heart. I pat her and murmur, “Good job, killer.”

  Thorn wraps an arm around me, pulling me tight against him. “Are you okay?” he asks, his green eyes filled to the brim with concern that makes my heart swell even bigger.

  “Fine,” I say, wanting nothing more than to relax into his embrace.

  Well, I want one thing more.

  “My dad,” I say, urgency returning to my words. “He’s in the basement. He’s really weak. We’ve got to help him.”

  “Let’s get him to the infirmary,” Thorn says, his voice gentle and understanding.

  “On it,” Rocco says, jogging down the stairs. A minute later, he emerges with my father’s body cradled in his arms. The tenderness of his hold makes my throat ache with tears.

  “Thank you,” I say. “Thank you to all of you. Even you.” I turn to the Bellas, but only Blonde Bella remains. She’s disheveled from the fight with Orville’s people, and one of her shoes is missing. She has a cut on her upper arm, which she’s bandaged with her shirt. At least I’m assuming that’s her excuse for being topless.

  Darius is cut and scraped, too, and Thorn’s eye is quickly swelling shut. Rocco’s lip is split, and Asher’s sitting against the wall, pale-faced and panting, clutching his knee. Elowen crouches beside him, talking him through the pain. A half dozen of Orville’s staff members lie crumpled on the floor, but I don’t spot either of the other Bellas among them. I turn my attention back to the wounded, touching Thorn’s cheek gently before pulling out my phone.

  “Looks like everyone needs a trip to the infirmary,” I say. “Or she needs to come here. Who needs immediate attention?”

  I dial the campus infirmary and order all the help they can send. A minute later, a squadron of doctors and orderlies arrive, and I ask what I can do to help. Elowen and I flit around helping to bandage and administer doses of potion to help with pain and healing. When the injured have been carted off to the infirmary, I collapse onto the wide staircase going up to the second story. Elowen slumps beside me.

  Ryker and Topher returned with a sobbing Orville, bound up in magical wraps so he can’t escape or use his own magic, while everyone was rushing around helping the wounded. Now, I look over to where the headmaster lies alone on the floor, Ryker standing over him.

  “What’s going to happen to him?” I ask Darius, who wasn’t badly injured and has stayed to help take away the prisoner.

  “He’ll lose his job,” Darius says. “A new headmaster will take over the Academy of Sorcery.”

  I can’t keep the selfish thought from entering my head, that maybe that means I can be with Darius now. But it’s quickly replaced with anxieties about who will replace Orville. That, too, is a question for another day, though.

  “Speaking of people losing their jobs,” Topher says, clearing his throat and standing from where he’d sat to rest for a minute. “I’m the one who taught Ja
de the dark magic. I assume I’ll be dismissed for that.”

  “I asked him to,” I say quickly. “And thank you, Topher, for risking your job for me.”

  Darius frowns. “I’m afraid I can’t answer one way or another on that,” he says. “If it was my decision, you know what I’d choose. The new headmaster will have to make the final call on whether or not you stay, Topher.”

  “I’ll vouch for you,” I say to the demon. Then I haul myself up from the steps and stifle a yawn. “I’d better get going. “I should go over to the infirmary. I want to be there when Dad wakes up.”

  “I’ll walk with you,” Elowen says.

  “I’ll go, too,” Topher says.

  “Me, too,” Darius says, standing and holding out a hand. I take it, then hesitate and glance over at Ryker. He’s watching us silently, his expression inscrutable.

  “Want to come?” I ask.

  He glances down at Orville. “I should stay.”

  “He’s not going anywhere,” Darius assures him.

  Ryker shrugs. “Still. I want to be here when the Society of Supernaturals gets here to collect him.”

  “We’ll all have to testify,” Darius says. “We might as well get some sleep.”

  “You go on,” Ryker says. “I think I’ll just stay here.”

  I give him one long, last look before stepping out of the house onto the path back across campus. To my surprise, the campus is already light. Bright streaks of pink and orange light up the sky to the east.

  “We stayed up all night,” Elowen says, stifling a yawn.

  “Let’s get you home and to bed,” Topher says, slipping an arm around her waist.

  I wait for her to protest, but she leans into him instead, confirming my earlier suspicions.

  “Same for you,” Darius murmurs to me.

  “What happened to Bella Lu?” Elowen asks suddenly.

  We all glance around at each other. “She must have gotten away,” I say. “Brunette Bella’s missing, too. I wonder if they went rogue.”

  “We’ll put extra wards around campus to keep her off,” Darius says. “Don’t worry. She’s not strong enough to break through and hurt anyone.”

  He gives me a meaningful look, and I give him a sleepy, grateful smile. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  He arches a brow, and I lean into his shoulder and wrap an arm around him.

  “You got me all that magic,” I say. “Without it, I don’t know if I would have been able to break the spell on that door.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he says with a wink, squeezing me tighter to him.

  Despite everything that’s happened tonight, I can’t help but smile. My father is alive and safe, even if he’s weaker than ever. My friends all came through for me when I needed them most, letting me know who can be trusted. I have a whole squad of amazing supporters, including a couple who are more than friends. Orville has been caught, and no one was seriously injured except a few of his guards, who will make a full recovery eventually. And with Orville gone, I might have a chance to have a real relationship with Darius.

  Maybe, just maybe, it’ll all work out in the end.

  *

  Author’s Note

  Thanks for reading Academy of Sorcery 2: Fallen Master! Click here to pre-order book 3 (release date is a placeholder for now. It will be moved forward when I get it done, as this book was).

  If you enjoyed this book, please leave a review! Just a sentence saying what you liked about it helps SO much!

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  Read on for a short excerpt from Broken Princess, our dark paranormal romance set in the same world as Academy of Sorcery!

  Broken Princess Excerpt

  Itzel

  Princess, Ocelot Nation

  From my position behind the dense shrubbery, I eased my head up just enough to take stock of the enemy. Ducking down quickly, I flattened my back against the prickly bushes and waited, blood thudding in my ears, the darkness ominously quiet around me. When no shots came, my eyes swept back and forth along the line of crouched warriors. “Ready?” I whispered, slotting the ammunition into my blowgun.

  My team followed suit. When all guns were loaded, I waved my arm to signal them to move out, and they scrambled from seated positions to crouched and ready for action.

  “Charge!” I screamed, leaping to my feet and clearing the shrubs in a single bound. Battle cries rose up around us as my team barreled onto the field, and the enemy scrambled to avoid being shot. I blew the dart from my gun, swerved to miss an opponent, and kept running. I had to find another hiding spot to reload, or I’d be vulnerable to attack.

  “Itzel, you devil,” Tadeu cried, leaping after me. His fingers snagged at the ends of my black hair, but I wrenched free, ignoring the sting in my scalp. I leapt over another hedge only to hear footsteps heavy in pursuit.

  Shit! I kept running, swerving down a narrow, shadowy lane. It lay abandoned to the night, like everywhere else in the kingdom. No one else dared break the king’s weeknight curfew. Only the faint glow of paint on the toes of my shoes provided illumination. I darted through the streets where I’d played as a child, my footsteps echoing behind me as I ran. Pausing at the end of an alley, I flattened my back against the wall, my heart pounding with exertion.

  I slid my feet from my shoes, meaning to pick them up and sneak on silently. But a pursuer’s footfalls alerted me he was near, so I abandoned my shoes and darted out into the empty street. I streaked across, digging into my pocket for the keys I’d nicked from my father’s chambers before heading out that afternoon. I doubted he’d missed them—or me—that day.

  Keeping my blowgun in one hand, I shoved the circular key into the indentation on the arena’s door. The door gave way with a groan, and I flinched at the sound. Without checking for a pursuer, I slipped into the inky blackness within. Feeling my way with my bare feet, I sidestepped along the wall until I found the tunnel that led onto the arena floor. I heard the door scrape behind me, followed by loud whispers.

  Shit. There were several of them.

  I darted forward, praying a janitor hadn’t left a bucket or other random item in the tunnel. Hard-packed dirt greeted my feet as I reached the main floor, and a grin spread across my face. The quiet patter of my footsteps on the ground echoed off the high ceilings, but I couldn’t afford to stop now. I ran at breakneck speed across the floor, counting on the echo to throw them off.

  I ran smack into a pile of hay. Bundles topples in front of me, and I went sprawling on top of them, rolling to the floor on the other side.

  Heart slamming, I scrambled around into a defensive position. Lying in wait, I raised my blowgun to my mouth and inserted a paint-dart. I was ready.

  A footstep sounded somewhere in the arena, the soft padding almost inaudible. I tensed, straining my eyes against the darkness, my ears against the silence ringing inside them. Not another sound.

  Where were they?

  Suddenly, the rustle of hay sounded just behind me. Before I could twist around, strong hands grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to the floor. I struggled, fighting to stay silent as he pressed my face into the straw.

  “Gotcha,” a rough voice murmured in my ear.

  “Tadeu,” I growled, bucking under him. “Took you long enough.”

  He crushed his body onto mine, pinning me with his weight. “Itzi,” he purred. “Game’s up, Princess.”

  “I thought you’d never catch me.”

  “But I did,” he said, his calloused fingers sliding under the edge of my shirt, skimming along the band of my shorts. “Are you my prize?”

  “You wish,” I said, my breath quickening as his hand slid under me, pressing against the front of my shorts. I could feel his hard length pressing against my ass as I struggled.

  “Why not?” he asked. “How long are you going to make m
e wait?”

  “We’re in an arena with at least one other player,” I said. “Not now.”

  “I’m starting to think you share your father’s opinion of me,” he growled, his fingers biting into my mound.

  “I don’t,” I shot back. I squirmed against his fingers, but they only worked my shorts further into me. “How could you think that?”

  “Maybe a stable hand isn’t worthy of Her Grace’s cherry,” he said, slipping a skillful finger under my shorts, tapping my clit through the layer of silk beneath.

  “Of course you are,” I said. “And don’t call me that.”

  “Why not? You are a princess, aren’t you?”

  I snorted. “Try telling my father that.”

  “I don’t have to,” he said. “He reminded me just the other day.”

  “What?” I asked, finally twisting my body free and rolling over to face him.

  “He’s noticed that we still spend time together,” Tadeu said bitterly. “He told me we should have outgrown these games, and I shouldn’t indulge you.” He slithered onto me, pressing a thigh between mine. “And that if I had too much time on my hands, he’d send me elsewhere, where someone could keep me better occupied.”

  “No,” I said, gripping the corded muscles of his arms. Tadeu was my childhood best friend, my first kiss, my first and only love. As soon as my sister took the throne, I was going to convince her to let us marry. Father had laughed at me when I’d asked, but I’d been only a child then. I hadn’t dared ask once I’d been of marriageable age. Father would never allow such a disparate match, even for a human daughter like me. My sister, however, could be persuaded.

  Tadeu slipped his fingers under the edge of my shorts again, this time beneath my damp panties. “What’s it going to be, Itzi? Are you going to give it up at last, or am I going to have to dream of your tight pussy while I fuck a stable maid against the barn wall again tonight?”

  “Poor tragic Tadeu,” I said. “At least you get fulfillment every night.”