Dread Delight: Rosewood Academy for Witches and Mages (Darkly Sweet Book 2)

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Dread Delight: Rosewood Academy for Witches and Mages (Darkly Sweet Book 2) Page 13

by Juliann Whicker


  He stared at me. “You’re not just saying that to be nice?”

  I rolled my eyes and stood up, adjusting my robe. “I’m not nice where she’s concerned. It might mean that she trusts you to protect me so she doesn’t have to. We don’t get along well.”

  “Neither do we. I mean, you still hate me for what I did to you.”

  “I don’t hate you. I should, but I can’t. You were calling her, weren’t you? She can hear you when you use her name.” I ran a hand through my hair. My hand trembled. What if Pitch visited Drake? She’d already done her damage to Zach, but Drake…

  Zach started shaking, his body rocking like he was crying, but then I heard his laughter. Cracked, crazy, completely unhinged.

  I leaned back and closed my eyes. Tears leaked out of my eyes while Zach laughed beside me. Pitch. She wanted to play. Zach was a fun game. Would she play him like she’d played Poppy? I got up and ran to my room, slamming the door and shutting Zach’s laughter away from me. It was the protection spell. It had locked Pitch away from me, but now she could come and go as she pleased.

  I turned on my Bunsen burner and started on a hurter. Only one. My hands were shaking too much to make anything good. Something small, inconsequential, something I could schedule a delivery for.

  I missed my morning classes, working on my hurter, then when it was finished, scheduled my delivery. I’d scheduled deliveries every week, sometimes more so that I could see Signore Ludi. What would he think about Pitch, about locking her away? That she hadn’t burned me while I’d been sleeping… No, she would wait until I woke up.

  I sat at the pickup place, sitting on my bag with the small package in my hand while I waited for Signore Ludi.

  The brown delivery truck drove up, Signore at the wheel. I waited until he parked and got out, slowly, so slowly before I stood and brushed off my bag. I stood there until he came over to me, his rolling gait slow and steady.

  “Cara Mia.”

  I held out his coat and he took it, only hesitating for a moment before he slid it on over his simple black shirt. After that, I handed him the small package.

  He stood there staring at me while I stared back until with a sigh he opened his arms and I staggered forward into them. He rubbed my head, warm circles over my hair. “You’ve lost weight. Aren’t you eating well?”

  “She’s here. Revere locked her away with his spell, but Zach broke it, and now she’s going to break him. And I shouldn’t care, but I do. I’ve tried to date other boys, but I haven’t found anyone, and time is running out. It’s running out and Pitch is here. If Zach doesn’t ruin everything, she will.”

  He sighed and pressed me tighter. The scent of him was rich, deep, like magic and mystery. He’d used to smell like pain, but he wasn’t like that at all, not anymore. “Why are you telling me instead of Revere? Do you want her back?”

  I shuddered and wrapped my arms around him. What was wrong with me? Why did I need connection like this? I was so weak and pathetic, so needy and desperate. Did I want Pitch back in my life? She was chaos. She was darkness, cruelty, pain, and I’d shut her out after what she’d done to Poppy, locked myself in my attic and buried myself in lotions and potions. I took a deep breath and pulled away from him.

  “No. I’m here for one purpose, to find a husband. She could cause problems with whoever I chose.”

  He frowned at me. “The mage who recast your spell isn’t your choice?”

  I smiled shakily. “He won’t work. He’s not really interested in me.”

  He laughed, a low, warm bark of laughter that made me feel a little bit better. “Cara Mia, a mage doesn’t cast such a spell unless he’s more than interested.”

  I stared at him while my heart pounded. “He won’t work. And what if she hurts him?”

  He rubbed my head. “Any mage who hopes to deserve you should pay for the privilege with pain. You know as well as I do that association with her hasn’t ever been a discredit to you. You dislike her more than anyone else ever would. Your mage…”

  I cut him off. “He’s not my mage. Bonbons and fireballs, you need to get over it. Drake Huntsman is the last mage I’d ever marry.”

  I whirled away from him, but he put his hand on my shoulder, holding me back.

  “Cara mia, such strong words, even stronger emotions. Very well. Find another mage. But Penny,” he said as his dark eyes burned into me. “You can only cut yourself into so many pieces. There’s nothing wrong in taking what you want, in admitting who you are.”

  I held my breath for a moment before I exhaled. “Nothing wrong? Tell that to Poppy. Thank you for your advice, and for the hug. I know it’s not your thing. You’ve always been so patient with me.”

  He stared at me, a glimmer in his eyes. “I always will be. We are friends, you and I. Tell me why my jacket smells like dead Creagh.”

  I told him the short version. I barely skimmed over the three days unconscious in Drake’s bed. I closed my eyes after the story and leaned against his truck. I was an idiot if I thought I could simply pretend like my whole heart wasn’t seriously compromised. Of course it was. I’d confessed to Drake the whole falling in love with him thing for the payment of the spell. It meant something to him or he wouldn’t have increased the percentage so much. I was trying so hard to not think about anything, Pitch, Drake, anything other than finding a husband and saving my mother. But how long could I pretend not to care? Pitch was jabbing her fingers through the holes in my life.

  “So Creagh are tracking Pitch through you?”

  I hissed at him. “Don’t say her name.”

  He shook his head. “Stay on the grounds or with a mage. You don’t want your mother to have to rescue you.”

  “My mother?” I scowled at him while he flashed me a mild smile.

  “She would lecture you about your husband situation. She would tell you to use all of your skills to attain what you need quickly and with the least amount of distraction. It seems to me as though your school experience is falling apart. Find a husband, return home, get back to life as you like it. Have Revere fix the spell that will keep her far away from you. But it hinges on the husband.”

  I sighed. “Lester seems good. Maybe I’ll ask him. We have a date next Thursday. Tomorrow I’m going out with Lars. We’re going to the circus. They’re Sophis mages.”

  “Are they?”

  “Like Revere.”

  “Your step-father is not a Sophis mage.”

  I shrugged. He didn’t seem like it, but if he was so great at spells and Jasper wanted to meet him, he had to be Sophis. “Like I care. I’m so sick of it. I’m sick of mages, witches, and everyone at this stupid school. Do you know I almost broke a girl’s ankle yesterday when she tripped me? I’m tired, tired, tired. And what I’m the sickest about is that mage with the red hair and green eyes. He followed me around and around, but now he has all these other things to do. No time to bother me anymore. It’s great. But then he’s there suddenly, right at the right moment before he vanishes again, and I’m left with Pete and his stupid little yellow car. I hate him. I hate his car. I hate Lester and his stupid hair and stupid monosyllabic words. I hate him and I hate you for coming here now when I needed you then, but you weren’t there, and now you have nothing to give me but advice I don’t want and can’t use. You know I can’t fall in love with a mage. You know, but you still want me to fall. Why? Do you want to see me broken? Are you like that? Of course you are. You’re a mage. You’re all like that. I can’t…” I stumbled away from him, wrapping my arms around my body. This was too much. Pitch pushed the whole stack of cards over into a huge monstrous mess.

  “Cara mia. Do you want me to take you away? Maybe a few days?”

  I froze before I turned to look at him. He looked serious, but he couldn’t be. We both knew that wouldn’t help at all. Besides that, Pitch might come and murder him. She still hadn’t forgiven him for abandoning me. Only she was allowed to do that. No, she never did that.

  “No, Signore. Th
anks for the offer. It’s the first time. You must be confident I can say no. I can. No. I’m sorry I called you for such a pathetic delivery. I think that all I wanted was for you to hold me. How strange. Well now that you’ve patted this little five-year-old on the head, you can send her on her way. Back to work. I have a big date tomorrow. I have to look extra shiny and be particularly adorable.” I patted his cheek. “Wish me luck. I like this one.”

  “Good luck. I’d offer to help you dispose of him afterwards if he doesn’t suit you, but I don’t suppose you need to if your friend is on the loose.”

  Lars and Pitch. He really liked her twist-jet. I headed to the dining room to eat and eat and eat.

  Chapter 15

  Witch

  My date with Lars went quite well. He drove me down the hill in his large silver sedan, letting me sit in the backseat, twice as far from the windshield as Pete’s had been.

  “Tell me a riddle,” I said as soon as I got in the car, and he regaled me the entire trip. I was actually really bad at riddles, but he didn’t mind explaining them to me. He didn’t have that arrogant thing Drake and Zach had, because they were so smart, kill me now. It was nice. When we got to the circus, we stood in line, not talking, just watching the clowns juggling as we waited to buy popcorn, then made our way past the caged animals and their accompanying stench into the dim interior of the big top. We climbed up to a seat in the middle of the bleachers and sat, watching, waiting.

  “Do you think the animals looked terribly abused?”

  I glanced at him and shook my head. “No more than the humans.”

  Lars cleared his throat. “I always wanted to join the circus when I was young. My uncle took me every year. I wanted to be the guy who swallows swords and spits fire.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “That’s a little bit funny since you can produce actual mage fire, right?”

  He smiled widely and shrugged. “Yes, but I haven’t figured out how to swallow swords.”

  I patted his shoulder. “Hang in there. I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually. I always wanted to be a maid.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

  I nodded. “With one of those feather dusters who goes around eavesdropping on the owners and gossiping with the butler about it. I’m sure there would be all sorts of scandalous gossip.”

  “In every single magic user’s household, to be sure. My uncle ran away from Rosewood and joined a circus. He trained the elephants. Do you know that they have over forty-thousand muscles in their trunks and can lift seven hundred pounds?”

  I stared at him then giggled. “I did not. Do you want a lollipop?”

  He nodded, slowly and took the razzleberry I handed him. I unwrapped my own, but it was black cherry, my latest batch and I could have sworn that I smelled Drake as the trapeze artist came out. I stared at the man, exquisitely muscled beneath his sequin shorts and suspenders with a large mustache. Was that Drake?

  I couldn’t be sure. He had darker hair than Drake, and such beautiful feet when he pointed his toes. Drake’s feet did that. Maybe it was Drake. I sucked on my lollipop and smiled vaguely at Lars when he said something. Could Drake do that, those flips and whirls, catching onto that bar so high above the ground? It reminded me a little bit of the Chemiss tourney only fewer special effects, lights, and excellent music.

  I clapped until my palms stung after he landed on the balcony and took a sweeping bow. After that were the clowns and their dogs. They had some serious skills. Could I make Señor Mort balance a cup and saucer on his nose? Hm.

  At the end of the performance, I sat there clapping and glanced over at Lars. He smiled at me and for some completely irrational reason, my stomach twisted into a knot, like the knots in the pretzel the little girl in front of me had held onto the entire performance. Could I marry Lars? What would that look like? Could I leave him to wander around by himself while I holed up in my attic? What would my mother make of him? Revere?

  Witley’s laughter bloomed around me and Lars went a little bit pale as he stared over my head at her. Could I ignore her and hope she went away?

  “Penny Lane.” The venom dripped from her voice.

  Nope, I couldn’t. I turned around, beaming at her while I unwrapped a lollipop. Lavender and dirt. Macaroons and Bonbons I wanted to tie her to a ring and light it on fire, also tigers.

  “Witley, and Ian. What a pleasant surprise. I thought you guys were cooler than the circus.”

  Ian’s golden eyes burned with something I would call amusement although I was pretty sure it was something more about undressing me with his imagination. I kind of leaned into Lars who was stiff like a statue. He was paralyzed between fight and flight.

  Witley threw back her amazingly lustrous locks and smiled back, her white teeth sharp looking beneath her blood red lips. “Oh, we are, but there are only so many diversions within a hundred miles of Rosewood. This seems exactly your cup of tea. Did you have fun watching the parade and hanging onto your sucker like a little bitty baby?” Her smile never faded, never changed to anything other than bright and vicious.

  I’d never seen her outside of Rosewood before. There was something different about her, dangerous, like whatever rules held her back didn’t apply here. I was vulnerable, and she was going to annihilate me.

  “I really did. I expected the exploitation of animals to bother me, but I think the humans are more exploited and malnourished than the creatures.”

  She sneered. “Humans do it to themselves.”

  “Each other,” Lars corrected, his voice low, slow, but firm.

  She looked at him, like she’d only seen him in that instant. It was not a good look. She was going to rip him to pieces. She took a step towards him, but Ian held out his arm, blocking her.

  “Lars is a mage and there are a lot of witnesses.”

  She turned to glare at him, then that glare became a catty smile. “Ian, aren’t you going to defend my honor?”

  “What honor?” That was me. Oops.

  Witley turned to me and smiled even more viciously if possible. Her hands curved into claws and my heart started pounding. Fight or flight. So many ways to crush her perfect face.

  “I have to go.” Lars turned and took off, moving faster than I’d ever thought possible. I stared after him while Witley started laughing.

  “Poor thing, got overwhelmed at the idea of trying to protect someone as pathetic as you.”

  I stood there, the smell of popcorn mixing with straw and animals, the growl of the crowd around us as people dispersed, bodies shoving against each other, laughing, completely oblivious to our little stand-off.

  Witley took my hand, spreading my fingers with hers, nails biting into my skin. I twisted my hand and stepped back, so Ian was between us. She smiled beautifully at Ian. “She thinks that you’re going to protect her. Isn’t she adorable? So stupidly passive. Are you going to spell me? Lose your little bubble of apathy? Fight back?”

  I stared at her while my heart pounded. I could feel the blood leave the tips of my fingers and toes. Pitch whispered in my ear, her voice darkness and pain. She wanted me to call her, to teach this bloodthirsty witch what bloodthirsty really meant. And afterwards everyone would know that they could get Pitch through me and there would be a million Zach’s. Yeah, that’s what I needed. I would have to let Wit win. I lifted my chin and smiled at her brilliantly.

  “If there’s one thing I’ve learned at Rosewood, nothing is more offensive to insecure witches like you than turning the other cheek. Go ahead, Wit. Show me how much it bothers you that Drake would rather spend time with me than you. Impress me with your low self-esteem.”

  “I hate to interrupt a good catfight, but Lars texted me, said I needed to show up because it would be more irritating if I were the one taking Penny home. Does Lars understand the nuances of human psychology or what?”

  I turned and stared at Drake where he’d come up behind me. He looked like a musician, like a fancy one doing a concerto or so
mething, tuxedo, vest, the whole thing. His hair wasn’t at all mussed but carefully controlled. Where had he been before Lars summoned him? I had no idea what he did in his spare time.

  He glanced at me, his eyes sparking green as his mouth twisted into a cruel smile. “Penny, isn’t that skirt a little short for a first date?”

  I looked down at the pink, flirty skirt that was maybe two inches shorter than my usual school uniform. I smoothed it down and tried not to glare at him. It would irritate Witley more if I flirted. I sucked on my lollipop and gave him a look that made my eyes super big while I swished my skirt, making it a little bit shorter before it swirled back down around my thighs. “What are you doing looking at my legs, Drake Huntsman?”

  He smirked. “Skirt. I would never notice your legs.”

  Witley smiled at him sweetly. “Drake, if I’d known that you were coming, I would have threatened her sooner. Are you her self-elected knight protector?”

  He smiled at her, his eyes fierce. “Lars elected me. Did I not make that clear? If you want to touch her, you go through me.”

  She laughed, throwing back her head and showing her long throat. Oh, how I wanted to rip holes in that throat. “I don’t want to touch her. It’s Ian. You know how he craves sweet little innocents like her. He’s been craving her from the moment they first met. He’s going to fight you for her, and the winner gets to… what shall the reward be? What do you think, Penny? A kiss? A night? A token of love?”

  “A kiss,” Drake said, his voice a low growl as he shifted, placing himself slightly in front of me. He could beat up Ian. Witley knew that. What was she doing this for? And… Wait, what? Drake was going to kiss me if he beat Ian? Why would he want that? I barely heard the rest of the conversation, something about whether the fight would be better in gravel or mud, and then I was left alone with Drake while Witley and Ian turned and headed out of the big top, apparently towards the designated fight spot.

  “What just happened?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Were you not here?”

 

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