Pain. She laughed as she spun away, darkness gathering around her as pain grew inside of me. Her laughter echoed in my head as I staggered to my feet with my arms wrapped around my waist. I had to go somewhere safe, somewhere secure. The pain would grow until it completely took me over, and then I’d be completely helpless, disgustingly weak. The world grew blurry and I stopped feeling cold. That was bad. I fell to my knees when my feet stopped working.
I blinked the woods into focus. Yes, that was my phone. Had witch number four broken it? I crawled to it while the pain whirled around me, threatening to drown me. I curled my trembling fingers around the black rectangle and turned it on. I had a message. I clicked on it and tried to read it, but my eyes couldn’t focus very well on the small blue screen. I pushed reply and texted without seeing the words, then curled into a ball and drowned in Pitch’s pain.
Chapter 4
Mage
I was doing what any self-respecting mage did when they were battling inconsolable insanity, namely, researching P.L. Rose, co-founder of Rosewood Academy. Penelope. Penny was a nickname for Penelope, surely no coincidence, so she was a possible godmother, perhaps even the grandmother who liked tea parties and feather boas. Everything I researched about the woman was extremely, suspiciously upright, particularly for so very active a member in the witch community, both Dayside and Darkside.
There I was, in my third period class when someone whispered that Penny Lane had been seen walking into the woods in her fairy-tale dance outfit, looking like a crazy person, although what was new, and carrying a very big bag.
I did not leap to my feet and run to her room, I waited until the class let out before I languidly closed my computer and wandered towards Lilac Stories. Zach was there, in the hideously grotesque lavender hued common room staring at a stack of waffles on the table. He wasn’t staring at them, he was counting them.
“How many did she eat?”
He jumped, looking guilty. Ah, that mysterious guilt. “Four?”
I raised my eyebrows. “So few? After five days without any food, she ate four waffles? How odd.” I threw myself down on the floral lilac couch while I studied him.
He stared back.
It was incredibly boring. I broke first. “Well, let me know if something interesting happens.” I rolled to my feet and left, knowing perfectly well that he wouldn’t tell me any more than I’d tell him. She’d left with a pack. A large pack. Was she leaving Rosewood for good? I stepped outside of the building that housed Lilac Stories, and stared at the bleak and incredibly depressing day. I usually liked that sort of weather, but not when she was walking away from me with a very large bag. Perhaps she was meeting her Darkside lover and he would take her far away. Why would he make her walk through the woods on a cold, dreary day like this? Penny didn’t own sensible shoes.
I paced around the school. It smelled like snow, ice, cold, and indeed, it started really falling in earnest only a half hour later. Was she still walking away from me? Had she found somewhere warm and dry, someone who could hold her and erase the fear? I ran my fingers over my chest and felt a horrible thing, something between pain and despair, something awful and dark that had me running for the stable.
I saddled Demon and cast a spell, drawing a series of green stars on his black side before I vaulted up and let him run towards the woods where I felt the pull through her binding. I belonged to her, and she needed me.
I couldn’t tell which one of the black piles of witch were her for a moment. Her hair was dark from the icy rain, body hunched inside a black coat that didn’t fit her. She groaned and threw a hand out, scraping her nails along the icy ground. She wasn’t dead then. No, dead would mean I wouldn’t feel the pain inside my chest. Not as much pain as she had, just enough to know what she felt and to know where she was.
Four dead witches. Who knew how many more outside of this clearing? I slid off Demon’s back to the ground and stepped towards her, but her body recoiled off my shield. I froze, for a moment disoriented. Her protection spell must have broken. I quickly disarmed my shield and gathered her up, ignoring her nails when they raked across my neck. Was she fighting off the witches or me?
“Penny, I’m going to drop you if you keep that up.”
Her response to my voice was so extreme that I almost did drop her. She wrapped her arms around me and burrowed her face into my chest. “Drake, it hurts.”
I pressed my hand against the back of her cold hair and glared at Demon where he was edging away from me. I was not in the mood to play games. Penny was ice cold, half starved, and afflicted with who knew what curse. Demon exhaled clouds of steam and held still while I leapt off the ground, somehow managing not to fall off the other side of him, while holding Penny. She was a very tall girl to be leaping around with.
I should have checked the bodies, made sure none of them weren’t dead, seen how they were killed, that sort of thing, but none of that was as important as getting Penny to safety, to stop the pain.
“It’s all right, my little flamingo. I’m not going to let you go. Not ever.”
I pressed down over Demon’s neck, Penny crushed between us, her skin warming where it came in contact with me. The coat would absorb most curses along with danger from the elements. Her delivery man’s, no doubt. She’d gone to him, but she’d come back. Had she returned for me?
I rode Demon to the entrance nearest my room. There weren’t any curious eyes, not out in that nasty weather. I carried her down the hall to my room, leaving Demon to cause havoc in the storm. He’d probably head down to the stables in weather like this. Otherwise, I’d catch him later.
I lay her down on my bed, resting her head on my pillow. I unbuttoned the jacket and could feel the release of protection buried in the fibers of that coat. It had kept her alive probably. Was she so delicate? She shuddered, her face pale and clammy, or maybe that was just the water. I worked stars over her black dress, the feel of the silk beneath my fingers, her skin beneath that nearly distracting me. I needed to touch her. Since my fingers were trailing over the wet silk fabric over her stomach, her missing ribs, I was touching her. Maybe it was her touching me that I wanted so desperately.
When she’d clung to me, pressing against me I’d felt whole for the first time in five days. She’d touched me so much on that night, burying her name in my heart. Would she ever touch me like that again? I shook my head and focused on the pattern I was drawing. Water rose from the fabric, rolling across the surface, then across my blanket and over to the drain behind my bathtub. I liked having a bath and a drain in my bedroom for things like this.
I dried her quickly and then I wasn’t sure what to do. Her head was hot, her hands cold, her body trembling like she was caught in a fever. I couldn’t take her to a doctor, not if her illness were caused by the curse, the curse that was spreading from her back to poison the rest of her without the protection spell holding it in place.
I grabbed my phone and clicked it open. I froze when I saw the message.
Drtakk Im ;lo9st takk me ghome.
It took me a second, but I was fairly certain she’d meant, ‘Drake, I’m lost. Take me home.’ She’d asked for me. I’d already been on my way, but she’d asked for me. I inhaled deeply as I grabbed her hand, holding it tight while I called Jasper.
Jasper came quickly, five minutes through Darkside, and then he studied Penny, the curse, and turned to me, a serious frown on his handsome face.
“We need a witch.”
I scowled at him. “No.”
He raised an eyebrow, blue eyes concerned. No one looked concerned like Jasper when the occasion called for it. It was, no doubt, why my father had hired him so long ago. “You want me to recast a spell which requires a witch and a mage. Otherwise, it won’t be powerful enough to hold back that curse. I haven’t ever seen anything quite like that.”
I grunted, squeezing her fingers. I hadn’t let go of them for some reason. Maybe because sometimes she squeezed back. “What’s so special about it?
”
He cleared his throat and got another look on his face, the one that was the precursor to a long lecture on a particular point of spell casting that wasn’t remotely relevant to me and my magic, but that I should understand simply because it was magic and I was a mage who should understand all magic. It wasn’t relevant until he got to the part where the basis of the protection spell was that it drew energy from the curse it was protecting the victim from. This modern invention was created by a mysterious genius mage who didn’t want the fame of recognition.
Ah. So the creator of this protection spell was possibly Penny’s step-father, or father, or grandfather, someone. Mixing mage and witch magic was always tricky. Her mother probably helped the mage. Apparently, Penny was something that four other witches wanted to kill. Something had killed them, maybe a delayed curse that their attack had triggered. With Jasper we probably wouldn’t trigger anything dreadful like that. Probably.
Jasper frowned as he stared hard at Penny. “She’s waking up.”
Penny gasped and arched her back, screaming this horrible agonizing sound that faded into a whimper as she curled onto her side, lips pale, forehead clammy, nails digging into my palm.
The scream wracked every nerve until I felt like I was being flayed. I would rather be flayed than hear Penny make that sound again.
Jasper’s face was tight as he pulled a scroll out of his voluminous dark blue jacket. “It’s a Darksider spell, curse, something along those lines. It’s complex. I don’t think the purpose is pain, but the pain is a result of the purpose being thwarted. Complex. You should know at least the basic forms of spells. Your ignorance is glaring.”
I glared at him then smirked. “This spell isn’t one of the basic spells, so how would knowing those be of any use whatsoever? I pay you so that I can enjoy my ignorance to its fullest.” I frowned at him. “What would be the best way to keep her unconscious?”
He raised an eyebrow, his dark brows marked above his brilliant blue eyes. “You can’t keep a witch unconscious against her will.”
I grinned at him. “I have her permission.”
“You don’t think that she would want you to cast this spell on her? What are you playing at? Drake, we need a witch to perform this spell.”
“Professor Vale is her room mother. Knock Penny unconscious before she gets here. You can perform this spell, can’t you?”
He frowned at her, tilted his head to the side, raised one hand, fingers in an L shape like he was framing her and then shrugged. “That curse is bound by layers upon layers of spells. They are extraordinarily strange. It’s as though a witch was casting mage spells. Not efficient, but still…”
“Interesting.”
Penny twisted, legs tangling in her long skirt as she opened her mouth and screamed soundlessly.
“Jasper, render her senseless for as long as it takes to cast the spell.”
He frowned at me, hand still outstretched over her. “No. You should contact the school and find the originator of this spell. I would be grateful to observe a master like him at work.”
Her eyes fluttered and there was nothing for it. I waved my hand over her, sending down a shower of green sparks while star shapes flashed over her skin. She gasped and then was still. She would sleep until I released her.
“You seem to have far too much experience in rendering a witch unconscious.”
I ignored him as I retrieved my phone, glancing at that ridiculously delicious text from Penny Lane before calling Pete. “I need Professor Vale’s personal number. Seduction of a professor? How did you know? You want to be invited next time? We’ll see.” I clicked off and then had to acknowledge Jasper’s disapproval. He didn’t really show anything on his face, but the fact that he was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest while he stared at me was as disapproving as he ever got.
I put a hand on his shoulder while I studied him, my own expression growing as serious as his. “Jasper, this girl is very important.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Someone clearly thinks so, or she wouldn’t have such a curse or smell like dead Creagh. You’re walking into an entanglement that you don’t begin to understand. You’ve always been extraordinarily confident, foolhardy even, but this situation is delicate and you are still entangled in a number of…”
“She’s three-quarters Darksider. I’ll marry her or no one.”
He froze, swallowed then turned to Penny. “She’s a lovely girl.”
I stared at Jasper then followed his gaze down to my fingers where they curled around her pale hand. “Not remotely. Complex, troublesome, curious and fascinating, but not lovely, except sometimes when she smiles wickedly and ties you to a tree.”
He cleared his throat. “This Professor Vale…”
I got my phone and texted single-handedly. “She’ll be here in a few minutes. Do we need anything?”
He raised an eyebrow. “This spell will displace a lot of energy. Are you certain you wish to perform such a spell? Two days you’ll be holding this spell until you can weave it in. We could simply let her family handle the matter. Future relations with her family might be strained, particularly if this spell misfires, and you kill the girl. Also, you’ll be liable for damages.”
I picked up my phone and showed him the text message.
“Ghome?”
“Home. It’s clearly a plea for help. It will hold up in any court.”
He smiled humorlessly. “Not if the court is run by whatever Creagh band gave her those bruises.”
He was talking about her wrists and ankles. You could see the fingerprints left in her fair skin. I smiled back. “Be sure to buy the judges for me, won’t you?”
He rolled his eyes. He thought this was a bad idea, also risky, but also interesting. “At least you’ll finally learn some spellcraft.”
A quick rap sounded on the door. Jasper went to answer it. He was the butler, after all. Sort of. He could tell that I wasn’t going to let go of her hand. Soon enough, Professor Vale entered, her short hair in wet spikes. She’d come the quick way from the lounge straight here through the sleet. She didn’t waste any time, but took off her jacket, sped across the room, leapt up the few steps to my sleeping area and was beside me.
She took Penny’s other hand, fingers holding her wrist, taking her pulse. “How long was she exposed to the elements?”
I shrugged. “Eight hours, maybe more."
She stared at me, her black eyes bright and suspicious. “Why is she in your bed?”
“She called me to rescue her.”
She tilted her head. “Really? Strange girl. Who are you?” she asked Jasper without taking her eyes or hands off Penny. She was checking her neck, running her hands over her shoulders, sliding fingers behind her back and over her spine.
“I work for Huntsman.”
She curled her lip and gave me a sharp look. “You trust him?”
I smiled back. “Much more than I trust you. We’re going to recast the protection spell.”
She scowled hard and I almost flinched. “What happened to it?”
I shrugged. “She didn’t say, only asked me to recast it before she lost consciousness.”
I could read Jasper’s disapproval in the stiffness of his body. Professor Vale studied me long and hard before she nodded. “Fine. I’ll need ingredients. I’ll return in half an hour. Have your employee prep her for a basic Craticulotomy.”
I heard Jasper’s intake of air, and then she was gone, a whirling force of witch nature.
Once she was finished, I held very still while Jasper did the necessary preparations, namely levitating Penny and drawing lines of energy through her body until a grid of golden strands streamed through her. The curse rested in the center, the crux of her life-force. I didn’t know what kind of curse it was. You could only tell a curse by its fruit. It was hard to know exactly what a curse did when it was bound so heavily. Even with the protection spell broken, other lighter spells were wrapped around it, layers and layers of
years of spells to keep her safe from the curse. Jasper was right. Witch energy was woven through those lines, but the framework was mage made. What kind of witch was Penny’s mother, or whoever had cast that?
When Professor Vale returned, lines of golden light went through Penny, the purple-black curse a throbbing black hole inside of her that we were going to bind using this brilliant new technique that would work on the curse itself instead of on her. As in, once it was established, it would use the strength of the curse to sustain the spell. Usually, it was the person who fed the spell, but a curse like that would completely drain anyone over any period of time. Why cars would trigger the curse made no sense to me. Was she at school trying to discover a cure for the curse, or was she here to hide from whoever had cursed her until it could be reversed?
It was my business. She’d asked me to help her. I was smiling as Professor Vale and Jasper stood on either side of my black bed in my black room, black stars glowing dimly over the walls, floor, ceiling while they sucked the life out of me, using my immense resources to put together layers of spells that Jasper marked on her back with the tip of an old oak twig, explaining the process in meticulous detail. Professor Vale had powders, herbs, and nasty smelling incense that she dripped down from Penny onto my black bed. I learned every step of the complex and mind-numbingly detailed spell, feeling the effect through my bond with Penny, but it wasn’t the pain that eased, but something else. At any rate, by the time the basic pattern had been set on her skin and hours had passed with Jasper and Professor Vale, her pain had been replaced with an immense and horrible exhaustion that was echoed in my own bones.
By the time we were through with set-up, Jasper and Professor Vale looked as haggard as I felt, and I had two more days of this. For my first serious spell, it was quite a marathon. Ian would be so proud of me.
Dread Delight: Rosewood Academy for Witches and Mages (Darkly Sweet Book 2) Page 3
