Academy Obscura

by J. J. Krzemien

  Liam grinned. “You’re curious about something. What is it?”

  I blushed at his attention. “How did you three become friends?”

  They exchanged a glance. Jaxon spoke up, “My father led the last rebellion against the Tromara. Many people died because of him.” He cleared his throat. “And some of them took out their anger on me. When I was nine, a few older kids were beating me up. Angel came and fought them off. Liam stepped in too, but I think he just felt sorry for the poor lonely son of a hated man.” Jaxon frowned, as if he didn’t like telling that story.

  “I can’t imagine anyone beating you up,” I said.

  Angel snorted. “He was a beanpole. Such a scrawny little kid.”

  “I can’t picture that at all.” I sipped on my coffee.

  “We have pictures.” Angel started to stand up.

  “Don’t you dare!” Jaxon glared at him.

  Liam chuckled. “You’ll have to take our word for it. Anyway, after that we fell into an unexpected friendship. And we’ve been close ever since. Honestly, I think it’s because the three of us are all kind of outcasts.”

  “Oh? How?” I would ask questions for as long as they’d let me.

  “Well, I started rebelling against my father. Being friends with Jaxon really put it to the old man.”

  “That’s a great reason for our friendship,” Jaxon said sarcastically. “Thanks for that.”

  “And Angel…” Liam glanced at the werewolf. “Why the hell are you friends with him?”

  “Someone needed to protect his scrawny ass, and you weren’t going to do it.” Angel sat back with his arms crossed.

  Redness was creeping up Jaxon’s neck. “Shut up. Both of you.”

  I smiled into my mug.

  Jaxon changed the subject. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like, Caprice. When you’re ready to go back to your dorm one of us will escort you.”

  My good mood faded. “I, um—what happened to…”

  Angel answered my incoherent question. “Dean Wright stripped him of his points. He’s now in the Culling.”

  I gaped at him. “In the Culling? With me?”

  “That does put you both in the same club. But you won’t be seeing him. The dean also took away all of his activity privileges—including Culling Club events.”

  “So she took away his points and his privileges. For trying to fucking rape me? How is that justice?” I set the mug down with a thump.

  Liam reached across the table for my hand. I pulled away.

  He said, “It’s all we can do. The Tromara won’t let us punish our own criminals. Criminals have to be presented at the end of year Culling. In the meantime, all we can do is limit their ability to interact in society.”

  “Like put them in a prison cell?” I thought that sounded like a great idea. What the hell was wrong with this place?

  “We don’t have a jail on campus. And he can’t leave the school, as per the terms of the Truce.”

  “I know a nice coffin we can stick him in,” I mumbled, crossing my arms.

  “I fucked him up good,” Angel said. “He won’t be in any condition to hurt anyone for quite a while.”

  I nodded. At least that was something.

  Angel eyed me. “He was the one who beat you up and left you in the forest, wasn’t he?”

  I lowered my eyes. I’d kept the truth of that from them because I was afraid of what Aimes would do to me if I told anyone. I was so stupid. I’d kept quiet, and that had only shown Aimes that he could do anything he wanted to me and I’d never tell on him.

  Jaxon squeezed my arm. I glanced into his angry grey eyes. “Is that true? Was it him?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Jaxon’s voice softened. “You were doing what you thought was right.”

  “Even so, it is my fault. If I’d told you sooner…”

  Angel asked, “Was it only him?”

  I swallowed hard. I was about to ruin the lives of two other boys. Boys who’d used magic against me. Beaten me relentlessly. Maybe I would be saving others from the same fate by speaking up. “The others were MacTavish and Bennett.”

  19

  Jaxon

  I sat at the long boardroom table. Dean Wright had called a staff meeting now that the winter break was coming to an end. We’d been there for an hour going over the details for next term. My mind kept drifting to Caprice. Anger flared as I thought about what the Aimes kid had tried to do to her. I was grateful every minute of the day that we’d arrived in time. Though I still wished we’d shown up sooner.

  Seeing her drunk and vulnerable had pierced my heart. I wanted nothing more than to take her home with me, to protect her forever. At least I had gotten to take her to my apartment, care for her, put her to bed. My pillow still faintly held her scent—sweet, floral.

  Dean Wright stood, she held a paper with the Council seal on it. “I have some difficult news.” Her gaze fell on me. “The Tromara have decided to punish Jaxon McIver for the crimes he committed in August. For intervening with the Tromara and Ms. Sorrentino.”

  I felt the blood leave my face. What would they demand of me? My life? I waited for her to continue.

  “The Council has already agreed to their terms of punishment.” She sucked in a deep breath, glancing at the paper. “They demand a first-quarter year Culling. Six names will be drawn to satisfy this demand.”

  Everyone started talking at once.

  “But we’ve never culled more than once a year!”

  “They said they’d forgiven that crime.”

  “Leave it to the son of a traitor…”

  I buried my face in my hands. I should have known they wouldn’t forgive such a crime. My ribcage felt like it was being crushed by an invisible vice. I struggled to draw in a breath. Six people were going to die because of what I did. Six more, who had a chance to stay out of the Culling Club before this, would sink down to fill those empty spots.

  May, Liam, and Angel all sent me pitying looks. Several of the others openly glared.

  “Quiet down,” Dean Wright called. “I want to get this over and done with. Remember we are preserving the Truce. The Truce is all that matters. It gives future generations a chance to live in peace. It allows the majority of us to keep our lives. Now Ms. Duinn will pull names from the—”

  “No.” I stood. “I’ll do it.”

  “Jaxon, you don’t need to punish yourself for—”

  “They are being culled because of me. I will pull the names. It’s my responsibility.”

  The dean studied me for several heartbeats, then nodded. “As you wish.”

  As a group, we walked down to the entry hall of the administration building. The billboard glowed with all of the first year’s students names and their points ranking.

  “The selection must be random,” said the dean. “The board is already magiced to be unbiased.” She glanced at me. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  I withdrew my carnelian wand. With a flick, I sent the random selection spell that would only highlight six names below the ten percent line. The next moment all six turned from yellow to a deep red.

  I couldn’t suppress the sigh of relief that came. Caprice had not been chosen. She was safe.

  Unfortunately, Aimes had not been selected either.

  “It is done.” Dean Wright turned to face us. “The Culling shall be held in three days. You are all dismissed.”

  Several of my colleagues shot me more glares as they left the hall.

  “Don’t mind them,” May said, standing next to me.

  “They’re right to look at me like that,” I said in a low voice. “I should never have come to teach here.”

  The hall emptied out except for the four of us. Liam and Angel wore matching expressions of concern. May rubbed my back in soothing circles, which I resisted the urge to shake off. I could go on a killing rampage and these three would find a way to take my side. I appreciated that, but it also made
me angry.

  “I need to call Isabella. She’ll want to know if Caprice was selected or not.” I took long strides to the stairs that led up to the building’s staff turret. It had the best cell reception up there.

  Taking my phone from my pocket, I pressed the button to dial Isabella’s number. She answered on the first ring.

  “She’s safe,” I said immediately.

  Isabella sighed in relief. “I’m so sorry, Jaxon. There was nothing I could do. The Tromara left us no choice.”

  “I know. Don’t worry about it.” I didn’t think I was doing a good job at convincing her. “It is what it is.”

  “You’re so stoic. But I know you. And I’m sorry for this.” She sighed again. “It will all be over soon.”

  “Yeah.” It would all be over soon. Until the next time. Then we’d just tell ourselves that again: It will all be over soon. Round and round it went.

  Not for the first time, I understood exactly why my father led that rebellion. But those were treasonous thoughts. We had to uphold the Truce for the greater good. For the ninety percent of supernaturals who lived safe lives because of the Culling. That was what was right, and good. Sometimes it just didn’t feel right or good.

  The next two days were a blur of sorrow-filled activity. First the hate-mail started to arriving in my mailbox. They were letters from the parents who’s children would be culled too soon. I read every one of them, it was the least I could do for my crimes. Then I tucked them away in a drawer.

  I would never make the mistake of going against the Tromara again.

  The day after that, the parents started arriving to say farewell to their children. That day I spent hiding in my apartment. It was a cowardly act, but I couldn’t face them. And they didn’t want to see me either. These people all thought they had six more months together. They were cheated out of that time.

  Lounging on the couch, I took another swig of bourbon from the bottle. Now half empty. They were cheated, and they held me accountable—which was fine. It was more than half my fault. But, I doubted the Tromara were getting hate-mail for their decision, or the Council for agreeing to this Culling.

  More treasonous thoughts. Maybe I was a bad seed after all—my father’s son. Obviously my decisions were misguided. I was a hazard to the supernatural community. This proved it.

  I took a long swallow. The burn down my throat wasn’t as harsh anymore. In fact, it was starting to feel numb. Like the rest of me. I slumped deeper into the sofa, the bottle resting on my bare chest.

  Someone pounded at my door.

  “Go away!” The words came out strong and steady. Obviously, I needed to drink more.

  A clicking sound reached me as the door unlocked. The handle turned.

  “What the fuck—” I’d locked it. But Liam had the spare key. Damn. He had all the spare keys, in case any of us did anything stupid. That was his reasoning. What about him doing something stupid, he never mentioned that. Which of us was supposed to barge in on him when he didn’t want it?

  I glanced down at my boxers. No point in getting dressed if it was just the guys. I tilted my head to see the door. Big brown eyes in a pretty face peeked around the edge. I frowned. That wasn’t the guys.

  20

  Caprice

  I stepped into Jaxon’s apartment. He was sprawled on one of the couches, wearing only boxers, with a bottle of booze in his hands. Tentatively, I closed the door behind me, knowing that May and Liam were out there if I needed them. Still, I wasn’t sure this was a good idea.

  “Jaxon? Are you okay?” I asked, approaching the sofa like it held a tiger rather than a depressed, inebriated man.

  “What are you doing here? How’d you get in here?” His eyes were slightly glazed, but his voice held steady. It was hard to measure his level of intoxication.

  I sat down on the sofa across from him. My gaze raking over his powerful thighs and sculpted chest. His hair was mussed in the most sexy way possible. He must look like this when he wakes up in the morning.

  I refocused on his face, I had a purpose here. And it was not to lust after him. “Isabella told me what happened. May and Liam said you weren’t doing too well.”

  “Nosy bastards.” He lifted the bottle to his lips, his throat moved as he gulped. Dear God, he was really on the path to self-destruction.

  “I think they just care about you,” I offered, pulling the long sweater sleeves to cover my knuckles.

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “What do you want?”

  “To make you feel better.”

  His lips twisted with a wry smile as his gaze traveled to my lips, breasts, legs, and back up again. “I can think of a way to make me feel better.”

  Yeah… that proved it. He was trashed. Sober Jaxon would never be so obviously flirtatious. Unless he was trying to pump me for information. This man was still a riddle.

  His grey eyes filled with heat. An answering response zipped through me, making my nipples grow hard. His smile transformed from mocking to knowing. I really was in the lion’s den.

  I dug my fingernails into my palms. The pain distracted me from thoughts of completely taking advantage of Jaxon in his vulnerable state. As hot and exciting as that would be, it wasn’t a good idea. I wanted him sober the first time I took him. Where had that thought come from?

  I cleared my throat. “I just came to say that this isn’t your fault. It’s mine. I’m the one who went out after dark. The Tromara found me. I was stupid—”

  “I rescued you from them. So it’s my fault.”

  “If I hadn’t gone out, you wouldn’t have had to rescue me. So it’s my fault.”

  “Look here, cupcake, it’s my fault. Because I say it is. Got it?”

  I didn’t think it was possible, but he was even more stubborn when he was drunk.

  “Uh, no. You can’t just bully me into believing that. It was my fault and we both know it.”

  He grunted. “You’re too damned stubborn.”

  “That’s the pot calling the kettle—”

  “I thought you were supposed to be making me feel better.” He sulked.

  “I was—I am. You don’t make it easy.”

  “You could try harder.” That wry grin reappeared.

  I sighed. “Obviously, you’re beyond my help.” I stood, walking past him to reach the door.

  His hand shot out and caught my wrist. “Don’t leave me,” he whispered, his eyes closing. “Please.”

  I stilled. He drew me closer, until I was sitting at the edge of the couch, my hip pressed against his stomach. He set the bottle down on the coffee table, then caressed my face with both hands. With a gentle tug, he pulled me down until my lips met his.

  His kiss was light, his tongue brushed across my lips, as if asking for permission. My lips parted and I pressed deeper into him. His tongue entered my mouth, caressing, exploring. I didn’t even care that his hot breath was laced with bourbon. Every fiber in me wanted him. Wanted to drink him in.

  In a rare moment of clarity, I pushed away. “You’re drunk. And you’re my teacher. You’re going to regret this. Liam and May are right outside.”

  “I’m not that drunk.” Then he hollered, “You two can leave now, I’m in good hands.” He pulled me in for another scorching kiss. “I’m your teacher and your advisor, but that doesn’t matter here. Of course, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”

  Was there anything that I didn’t want him to do? The dragon-shifter in me was stirring. Tempting me to give in completely and just enjoy myself. No regrets, no consequences. More than that, the dragon wanted to claim him. To make him mine. Like a treasure.

  Jaxon held my face in his hands, studying me. “I could use a distraction right now. I want to explore you, just a little, and feel you come in my hands. Would you like that?” His voice was gruff.

  I nodded, my heart leaping against my ribs.

  “Good.” He claimed my mouth in another searing kiss. Then he rolled us off the couch, and onto the plush
rug. He straddled my leg, his cock leaving a hot imprint against my hip. With one swift motion he had my sweater up and off over my head. He groaned, burying his face in my cleavage. “You’re so damned beautiful.” With another expert move, he unhooked my bra and tossed it aside.

  Jaxon gently squeezed one breast then the other. His thumb circled my nipple. I gasped, my back arching off the floor. With a confident male grin, he brought his mouth down, his tongue teased my flesh.

  I closed my eyes and moaned. When he was finished with one nipple, he repeated the tongue strokes on the other one. His hand slid down to caress my stomach. He unbuttoned my jeans, slipping his hand inside my panties.

  His fingers stroked my hot, wet flesh. He spread my legs wider with his thigh. When he found my clit, I gasped. I’d never been touched by a man like this before. My first time had been brief straight-forward intercourse with a clueless teenager. Nothing like this. Heat and tingles sparked all over my body.

  He rhythmically stroked that sensitive nub, as his mouth claimed mine again. I moaned into him. He increased the pressure and pace with his fingers. My breath was coming in ragged gasps. He moved his lips to my jaw, neck, collarbone. Everywhere he kissed lit my skin on fire.

  The pressure in me was building, I felt like I was going to explode into a million pieces. He took my nipple into his mouth again. I shattered. He groaned, nipping at the soft underside of my breast.

  I shuddered once more, all tension leaving my body.

  His hands slid up to palm both my breasts. “Fuck, that was hot.”

  “Mmmm.” It was the most coherent sound I could make.

  Jaxon beamed down at me. He kissed the tip of my nose. “I hope you liked that, cupcake.” He rolled over onto his back, then settled my head against his chest. A strong arm wrapped around my waist.

  “What about you? I can…” My fingers trailed down his stomach toward the tent in his boxers. He caught my hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.