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 19

by Juliann Whicker


  They sat in front and talked about the big tourney and who should start. Drake didn’t drive, and I noticed him rubbing his head a few times, like it still hurt. Who had done it? How could I possibly find out?

  We got to school and as we drove up the drive, I stared at the green and the pole with someone tied to the top of it. People were yelling and throwing things at the person.

  “What’s going on?”

  Drake glanced back at me and smirked. “Looks like I’m so popular, the witch who knocked me out is getting their comeuppance. Stop, Zach. I’ll get out here. You park the car and give me my keys at dinner.”

  Drake got out, his movements flamboyantly bold and courageous, like he should have a cape flapping in the wind behind him or something. Not that there was much wind. He walked over the stiff grass to the group of students.

  I put my hand on Zach’s shoulder. “Wait.”

  I watched Drake walk through the group, disarming people as he went until he reached the base of the pole where Ian stood, arms crossed. They had a conversation I couldn’t hear.

  “What are they saying?”

  “Ian’s guarding the witch so no one actually kills her, as well as making certain none of the objects they’re throwing are lethal. I can’t read Drake’s lips since I can only see the back of his head, but I’m betting he’s asking for details. He has to decide if she’s suffered enough or needs to continue her lesson.”

  This was the witch who had hurt Drake? I didn’t think, just pulled a lollipop out of my bag, opened the door, stood on the running board and threw the lollipop with the precise force that it would strike her forehead, knock her unconscious and send a stream of blood into her eyes. Yes, lollipops can be dangerous. She should be glad I hadn’t stabbed her with the stick end. Maybe I would.

  No. I shook my head and ducked back in the car. “Drive.”

  He did, driving quickly into the parking garage, bottom level. He put the car in park and turned to me. “Penny, can we talk?”

  I stared at him. Was he nervous? I shook my head and got out. “No. I’m starving. If I don’t eat something soon, I’ll start on your face.”

  He followed me, not pushing it, but I could feel the tension from him. What did he want to talk about? Her probably. Since I hadn’t been sleeping, Pitch probably hadn’t come. I was tired. I was going to crash soon, but not until I’d had my date with Lester. Could he protect himself if she decided to turn on him? I shook my head. I couldn’t worry about that. The only things I needed to think about were what I should wear on my date, and what kind of pet Drake would like. A mouse would be really cute. I could teach it to ride on the brim of his top hat.

  The tea parties we could have!

  Chapter 20

  Witch

  I sat in the dark movie theater beside Lester, my hands holding the yellow rose on the lap of my short pink eyelet skirt. He’d only gotten one bowl of popcorn this time. What if our hands accidentally touched? Is that what he wanted to happen? The movie wasn’t a documentary, either. It was a black and white detective movie. Was that romantic? The characters on the screen were pretty passionate, the beautifully tragic woman, the scarred tough guy with a soft heart. I glanced at Lester and forced a smile when he looked back at me.

  He leaned over and whispered, “The last movie was more interesting.”

  “Really? Have you ever regrown the legs of a bee?”

  His eyes took on a seductive gleam, or maybe that was the reflection of the movie screen. “I have. Are you interested in that sort of thing?”

  I hesitated then nodded. “Have you studied any other creatures, what about plants? Could you regrow the limb of a tree? How does the limb respond to stimulus? How many times…”

  “Sh!” someone hissed behind me.

  I winced and sank lower in my seat. “Sorry,” I whispered, barely a breath and the person behind me huffed. Lester rolled his eyes at me for how stupid the guy behind us was, which made me feel better. I took a handful of popcorn and our hands didn’t touch. Not once through the entire movie.

  Afterwards, we were exiting along with the crowds and Lester pulled me to the side between rows. He looked at me past the curtain of his hair and my stomach twisted.

  “Penny, do you want to get something to eat? Ice cream or a piece of pie? Whatever you’d like. We can talk about my work. If you’re interested.” That last bit was stammered, like he didn’t expect people to be interested in regrowing limbs.

  “That sounds nice. Let’s walk down to the coffee shop for some tiramisu. It’s only a few blocks.”

  He nodded and followed me out of the theater, down the street, the crowds thinning the further we got from the entrance. It was cold. I had tights on, but I needed three pairs of the ugly thick kind, not the cute lace pattern I was wearing. I shivered and put my hands in my pockets. My coat wasn’t particularly toasty either, but it was cute, pink, with a hood complete with cat ears.

  It was fine, but for some reason, I felt kind of nervous with Lester, walking through the cold evening, even though the streets were far from deserted, sitting in the coffeehouse with hot chocolate and tiramisu, him spelling our table so no one could hear the fascinating details of his experiments. It was fascinating, but my stomach twisted tighter the longer I spent with him. Finally, we finished that last bite of tiramisu, and headed back outside, ignoring the looks of the other students at the coffeehouse who were way too interested in my life.

  As we were walking, maybe half a block from the coffeehouse, someone called my name. I turned and stared at Barry who was jogging towards us. How interesting. The closer he got, the faster he moved, until he was flat out running. Lester took my arm and pulled me behind him, like he was going to protect me from Barry.

  Did I prefer a mage who put me behind him to protect me, or one like Lars who took off and had another mage do it for him? Hm.

  “Hey, Penny. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “No, she can’t.” Lester’s voice was as dangerous and deadly as a voice could get. And he was still holding my arm like it was a baseball bat. Maybe he would pick me up and whack Barry with me. That would be interesting.

  “I’m on a date. Can we talk later?” Not that I wanted to talk, not when he’d been all weirdly possessive with me at the crash rally thing. Was Lester being protective or possessive, and what was the difference exactly? So many questions. And he still held onto my arm. I tried to gently disengage while I gave Barry a saccharine sweet smile.

  He looked sad, kind of hangdog. “It’s just that I wasn’t myself the last time. I didn’t mean to come across as… Ian told me that what a woman wants is a man who shows her who’s… I guess I shouldn’t have listened to him. I mean, I haven’t ever dated anyone before, so I thought he’d be a good source of advice. I mean, he’s legendary.”

  I stared at him. “So, you want to play me like Ian would?”

  Lester growled at him. Barry scowled back before shaking his head and strained to look at me past Lester, giving me a slight smile and a helpless shrug. “Yeah. I guess that wasn’t the best idea, but at least I didn’t growl at anyone who tried to talk to you.”

  Lester let me go so he could step threateningly towards Barry. Barry looked at Lester with this craziness that reminded me of Zach when he was about to do something stupid. Yep. They didn’t bother talking about it. Barry and Lester attacked each other instantaneously, like a gun went off that only they could hear.

  Barry was faster than Lester, and Lester seemed distracted, unfocused, but that made sense when Barry kind of shimmered and then went a quarter slower than he’d been before. Wow, that was a cool spell. Lester was faster than Barry after that. Barry’s spell at Lester didn’t do anything other than make Lester’s veins stand out on his face for a minute. Kind of creepy looking, but still a little bit attractive.

  The fight was completely different than Drake and Ian. Probably the magic, but all subtle stuff that no one would notice. Did Drake and Ian not know how to be su
btle with magic? I shook my head. I was not thinking about Drake. I was watching Lester hold Barry in a headlock while Barry kicked Lester in the face. Nice flexibility. Also nice boots.

  Lester fell back, losing his grip on Barry’s throat. Barry crouched, right in front of me facing a snarling Lester. He snarled beautifully, so animalistic, so caveman.

  “Barry, I’m afraid that listening to Ian about women shows a huge lack of basic sense. We can still hang out sometimes. If you don’t mind me breaking out in Spanish melodramas from time to time.”

  He straightened slowly and turned to me, betrayed. “Why are you dating Sophis mages? They’re pathetic.”

  I shrugged helplessly, twisting my yellow rose in my fingers. “I think the biggest thing is style, in fighting as in everything. You should look at this as a valuable learning experience.” I patted his head. “Now go away.”

  I turned and started walking towards Lester’s car. Either he followed me, or not, but I was done being an audience. I ran my fingers over my arm where I could still feel his grip. He was strong. Very strong. But he had his own work so he wouldn’t bother me very much if he was part of my world. He was protective which was probably good, and intelligent, which was also mostly good. I liked the way he looked and smelled, and it hadn’t bothered me too much when he’d touched me. Did that mean he was an evil, wicked mage? Probably, but what other kind of mage was there?

  I smiled even as my stomach twisted for some reason. He would work. It would be okay. His heavy footfalls grew louder until he caught up to me. He slid his hand in my arm, like once he’d made that initial contact, he had permission for a repeat. Perhaps it was a mage thing.

  I didn’t mind. His green parka was like wilderness gear and we were trekking out into the deepest darkest forests to go repelling in the snow-covered everglades. Or maybe Alaska. Maine. We were running away from my aunt who wanted me to marry the evil Baron VonSomething who wanted me for my dowry, but hated my cat and would poison it if I didn’t escape. Lester was the son of the gardener. He loved me for my way with roses. That explained the yellow rose between my fingers.

  When we reached the car, Lester hesitated before opening the door. I turned to look at him and noticed the bright intelligence in his eyes. I hesitated then brushed back his hair. His expression shifted to something unreadable. Was it regret? Maybe he would strangle me and put me in the trunk, dumping my body in the woods somewhere. The regret was about how it could have been different if he wasn’t so desperate for extra limbs in his experiments.

  I cleared my throat while my heart pounded. I needed to find out exactly what he was thinking. I couldn’t spend months flirting with someone who wouldn’t work. “Lester, how do you feel about marriage?” I winced when the words were out. Not exactly the subtle ice breaker I’d hoped for.

  His eyes widened and for a moment shock warred with regret. He hesitated then shrugged. “Most mages minimize the importance of my kind of work, genetics, healing, growth, they’re all about fancy spellwork and war. There’s a brotherhood where they celebrate life, explore the possibilities, and I’ve wanted to go there after Rosewood, been planning it for years. It’s a monastic brotherhood.” He cleared his throat and stepped away from me. “I’m not getting married.”

  The pretzel twisting in my stomach exploded. I curled my fingers inside my coat pockets and stared at his boots. They lacked the elegance of Drake’s boots. They were practical, efficient, boring. He wasn’t an option for marriage. My last option had just closed and now I had exactly nothing in the way of prospects.

  “I see. In that case, why did you agree to go out with me?”

  He shrugged uncomfortably. “I thought it would be useful to have an alliance with a witch. I think that you’re less annoying than most.”

  “I thought the same thing about you.” I got in his car, backseat of course, and slammed the door behind me. I was going to come apart at the seams at any moment.

  He took his time, pacing back and forth before he got in the driver’s seat and drove back. He glanced at me exactly once, opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then shook his hairy head instead and focused back on the road.

  Just as well. My mouth was stuffed with screaming and killing and burning. All the mages in the world needed to die and I knew the perfect person to kill them all. The ride was endless. Not really, but Lester almost died so many times, my hands trembling as they didn’t slip around his throat and strangle him, slam his face against the steering wheel, so many things that could end with him screaming and bloody.

  Right. The endless ride ended with him pulling up at the curb with a screech, me throwing open the door and running away before I ended him. I was going to go to bed. I was going to make hurters. I was going to do anything other than talk to Zach about Pitch.

  He didn’t realize that, sadly, and he blocked my way, arms crossed over his chest like he was taking this situation into his own hands whether I liked it or not. You could say by my reaction that I wasn’t interested in such a dialogue.

  I hit his chest, screaming, knocking him to the floor while I yanked a handful of his hair out of his head. His body shimmered blue while his eyes sparked, and I couldn’t touch him, like an invisible barrier was between his body and mine.

  I froze while I stared at him, those eyes. The barrier didn’t block out his words.

  He sounded so rational, so calm, so reasonable. “Penny, you should never attack a mage. It can be considered an act of treason, a violation of every treaty that keeps our worlds from being torn apart by war. I’ll forgive you this time since you don’t understand anything.”

  I snarled and threw the handful of hair I clutched in my fist at his face. “You’ll forgive me? You’re the one who ruined everything! You don’t understand. You could have had her, the only thing you’ve ever wanted if you hadn’t been so stupid. It would have been so easy. It would have worked. I wouldn’t be here trying to do the right thing with all the wrong tools. It’s all your fault! You’re the one who will make me a heartless monster. You did this!”

  I stared at him and everything focused on those soft eyes, that face, the thing between us that Drake’s protection spell should have nullified. I had one thing that spells couldn’t block. The one thing I had. I pulled back, cocked my head at him and smiled before I punched him, focusing all the energy of my pent up rage into that strike.

  His face cracked, the average boy mask crushed like eggshells. His cheekbone was dented, a crackline running up through his eye, showing a different eye beneath, darker, intense, the color of lightning and deep blue abyss, everything mysterious and horrifying. Powerful. Terrifying. The real Zachary Stoneburrow.

  I stumbled away from him, staring at the mask I’d cracked. I looked down at my hand, my perfectly unblemished hand. I’d been angry. Now I felt something else. Something crawling and cowering in the shadows that couldn’t hide behind the anger. I’d failed.

  My mother would die. My fault, but as I opened my door and closed it behind me, I was too tired to care. I flopped on my bed without taking off my shoes. Pitch would come while I slept. Hopefully she would burn us all to ash.

  Chapter 21

  Mage

  I didn’t have time to confront Lester about how the date went before I got a message that two mages were due retirement.

  It took me hours to subdue the rager in the field who was slaughtering both our side and theirs with perfect abandon. The other one had been captured and was held in a tent, so all I needed to do to him was to execute his retirement, end his place with Huntsman Inc., and blow his ashes away.

  I walked off the field, dragging the manacled rager behind me, assisted on one side by Teddy Prince’s father.

  “There seem to be many mercenaries approaching retirement these days,” I murmured before I slammed my boot into the rager’s face to keep him from snapping the locks off with his teeth.

  “Many Darksiders enlisted around the same time under your great, great grandfather.
He led them personally.”

  I glanced at him, that subtle jibe beneath the expressionless façade on his handsome face. Teddy was even prettier than his father had been. Those poor witches at Blackheart. He made me look like I had a heart.

  “Do you think that their families are not well compensated?”

  He shrugged. “Death is inevitable. Your terms are fair. I believe you should consider how you can encourage a new generation of Darksiders to enlist in Huntsman’s militia. A hundred years of experience,” he said, nodding at the oozing, red-eyed creature that had once been a mage. “It’s difficult to replace such a soldier.”

  I didn’t make it to the tent. When the rager burst his manacles and reached for Teddy’s dad, I did the only rational thing and released him right there, slashing through his neck with one side of the ripped contract, the only thing that had held him to sanity for over a hundred years.

  I stood there on the field, the rager’s body cooling while the eyes of my men were on me, heavy with loathing, fear, and resigned loyalty.

  There had to be a better way, a better death. They should retire to a resort somewhere, away from the battle, the blood, somewhere they could spend their last days in peace. They couldn’t live with their families, the generations that relied on the soldier’s income to eat. No soldier wanted to end his career slaughtering those he fought to provide for. It was much better to end the lives of his fellow soldiers. There had to be another way. Not imprisonment of those who may go mad soon. You couldn’t always accurately predict such things.

  There had to be a way to give those soldiers a respectful, fitting end.

  “I’m sure the Huntsman heir will continue to receive the unfailing loyalty of his soldiers however deserving.”

  Or undeserving. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle. I turned to face him. “Two weeks leave. You’re welcome. Try to have the appropriate sense of awe at, if not my position, my money. You’re excused.”

 

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