Academy of Sorcery: Term 1: Unleashing Trials

by Alexa B. James

  “Enough with the drama queen act,” Thorn says, detaching himself from Bella and holding her at arm’s length. “You don’t look injured.”

  I let out a quiet snort. Maybe he’s not so bad after all.

  Meanwhile, Rocco has strolled over, looking amused and relaxed with his hands in the pockets of his navy slacks, his uniform fitting him to tailored perfection. Dammit, why does he have to look so good when he acts so bad?

  “It takes two to tango,” he says, turning to me. “I don’t think Bella’s the only one at fault here.”

  “Excuse me?” I say.

  Rocco smiles, making dimples sink into his cheeks. “Can’t keep yourself out of trouble for five minutes, can you?”

  “I didn’t—.” I break off, taking a deep breath to control my fury. “You know what? Never mind.”

  He grins wider, his gaze sweeping over me and Bella. “As much fun as it would be to see two girls wrestling, I’d rather it be a private show with a lot more body oil and a lot less clothes.”

  He’s so ridiculous that it’s hard to even stay mad at him. I try not to laugh, instead rolling my eyes as I say, “Keep dreaming, dumbass.”

  “Oh, I plan on it,” Rocco says, letting his eyes rake down my body this time.

  I flip my hair over my shoulder and walk away with my head held high. Asher follows, snickering. I keep wandering around the room, searching desperately for any weapon not in the form of a spork. I mean, seriously. A spork isn’t even a real thing. It’s the ugly stepchild of eating utensils. Who the hell would intentionally choose it for anything other than a joke?

  But literally nothing else has called to me.

  I let out a sigh as I pass the silver spork for the fifth time, begging the universe for a sign that there is another weapon out there that belongs to me. I can’t pick a spork. I’ll be the laughing stock of the school.

  Within five more minutes, everyone has chosen a weapon but me.

  “Today, Cinderella,” Rocco calls out from across the room.

  Professor Darius slowly approaches, his hands clasped behind his back. He stops beside me, where I stand staring at the spork. His elbow lightly brushes against mine, and a tingle goes racing through me. I am seriously lusting after this man.

  When I peek at him from the corner of my eye, he closes his eyes and takes a long, slow breath before opening his lids again.

  “Anything calling to you?” he asks.

  Yeah. He’s calling to me. Does that count?

  “Nope,” I lie.

  A spork is so not my weapon of choice. It’s not even my eating utensil of choice.

  We start walking, and all the while, I revel in this strange vibration I’m getting from him.

  “Concentrate,” he murmurs. “Let your magic guide you. Where is it drawing you?”

  I suddenly realize everyone in the entire armory is watching us. Waiting for the big reveal. Not only am I the wielder of sex-magic that made them do embarrassing things, now I’m making a spectacle of myself by not choosing a weapon.

  If only I’d grabbed it while everyone was busy looking for their own weapon.

  Taking a deep breath, I swallow down my ever-growing embarrassment and point to the spork. A ripple of hushed conversation sweeps over the gathering of freshmen as they strain to see what I’ve pointed to. It’s so small that not many people can even see it from their vantage point near the door as they wait to leave.

  Professor Darius nods gravely. “You’re certain?”

  “I wish I wasn’t,” I say with a sigh. I close my eyes one last time and strain to feel a pull toward anything else, but there’s nothing but an insistent, nagging itch to pick up the damn spork.

  “This has been here for many years,” Professor Darius muses, picking up the spork. “Since before I was a student at Academy of Sorcery.”

  I fight an almost uncontrollable urge to snatch the thing from his hand. It’s mine.

  No, ours. Mine and my magic’s.

  “Can I please have it?” I ask, holding out a hand and forcing my voice not to betray my desperation.

  “It’s yours,” he says, laying it across my palm like it’s something worthy of reverence. “Receive your weapon.”

  By now, everyone has seen the ridiculous “weapon,” and the whole room erupts into giggles and outright guffaws. Haha, everybody look at the sex magnet wielding a spork. Super.

  “Piss off,” I say to everyone as I storm past them and out of the armory. Thanks to my magic, which seems intent on making my life hell, I can’t even get a minute alone to lick my wounds. I have a trio of sorcerers following me around.

  “Nice spork,” Rocco says behind me. “Better be careful with that, don’t want to poke your eye out.”

  Ryker breaks into laughter.

  “I don’t need this shit,” I say, turning to glare at the assholes laughing at me. I stomp over and toss the spork into a trashcan. “And I don’t need that. I’m out of here.”

  Chapter 7

  “Good morning, everyone,” Professor Darius says the next day as he strides into my first class of the day, Basics of Magic. “As you know, I’m the head of the College of Wizardry, which means you’re stuck with me for the next four years. If you have any questions, I’m your touch-point.” His eyes find mine, and a rush of warmth fills my chest. It’s official. I’m crushing hard.

  “In this class, you’ll learn how to begin controlling your magic and using it to your advantage,” Professor Darius goes on. “But in order for that to happen, you’ll need to store most of it in your vessel for now. That way, you can work with a small amount that is safe and won’t cause serious injury if it gets away from you. Don’t worry, your magic will be safely kept in your weapon or other instrument of choice. You can pull from it anytime you need more magic.”

  While he talks, he walks around the room, and all the students take out their weapons and hold them out in front of them.

  Everybody but me.

  “I want you to think of it like an extension of yourself, with magic flowing freely between you and your vessel,” Professor Darius continues, holding out what looks like sleek walnut cane with a snake’s head at the tip. A blade with two points flicks out the end like a tongue before drawing back in. “This is mine, and although I no longer need it, I’m very attached to it, as you will be once you’ve bonded with yours. Today, we’re going to work on getting your magic safely stored. In the coming weeks, we’ll work on transferring it back and forth until you’re fully in control of the process and sharing your magic with your weapon and knowing how much to draw from it is second nature.”

  “How much magic do you have?” asks a guy in the back.

  Professor Darius smiles a bit. “Enough,” he answers, pausing next to Brunette Bella, who looks like she’s about to wet herself with adoration as she stares up at him. “We all have special relationships with our weapons. Your particular weapon, each unique to the wizard who wields it, chose you for a reason. You will use it to learn balance. Too much magic at any given time can overwhelm us, causing imbalances of power and hurting ourselves and those around us.”

  My gaze wanders around the room to all the students concentrating on their weapons while I stand here like an idiot, holding nothing because I was a dumbass and tossed mine in the trash when I was pissed. Hopefully I can replace it with something not quite as lame as a spork, and it will all be forgotten.

  I cross my arms over my chest and exhale, annoyed at both myself and the damn spork that insisted it was my weapon. The only magic that thing could deliver is dessert. Not to say that a bowl of ice cream at the right moment isn’t magical. Let’s face it, it’s gotten me through a few tough spots. But I don’t think it’s going to save me from being the butt of every joke this year, let alone an actual attacker.

  “Where’d your spork go, Dumpster?” Blonde Bella mocks me. “Couldn’t handle it? I’m not surprised, really. With your magic, what are you going to do, seduce it?”

  “I was
actually looking forward to seeing her try to fight someone with it,” Brunette Bella says.

  “Too bad I’m getting something else,” I say. “I could have gouged your eye out with it.”

  “Where is your weapon, Jade?” Professor Darius asks. I hadn’t noticed him walking over, but now he’s standing right next to me, so close I can smell his spicy aftershave. The neurons in my brain all start firing at once, and I can’t find a single clever thing to say. I can only shrug.

  “You won’t be able to use your magic without it,” he says. “Can you go back to your room to get it?”

  “I kind of… Threw it away,” I mumble beneath my breath.

  “You threw it away?” He gives me this look of disappointment. Unlike my three chaperones, whose opinions I could care less about, Professor Darius’s disappointment stings. “That weapon’s been waiting for the right person for decades, Jade. For someone special enough to choose it despite its lowly appearance. That weapon can contain great power such as yours.”

  “It’s a spork,” I argue. “How am I supposed to be a serious magician with a spork? Can’t I choose something else?”

  “A vessel is more than it seems,” he says. “It chose you for a reason, the same reason your magic chose it.” He leans closer, and the scent of his aftershave makes me dizzy. His eyes are locked on mine, the gold flecks in his chocolate irises mesmerizing me. He drops his voice, still holding my gaze. “Go find it.”

  A shiver races through me, and I’m not sure if it’s attraction or fear that I’ve pissed off the most powerful man in the entire school. Avoiding the eyes of my classmates, I rush out of the room and try to collect myself and catch my breath as I return to the trash can. I take off the top of the can and start digging through the coffee cups and gum wrappers in search of the stupid spork.

  Rocco strolls up behind me, his hands in his pockets, and stands there just grinning while I dig through the refuse in vain. Finally, I sit back on my heel and wipe my forehead with the back of my wrist, brushing my blonde hair aside. I glare up at Rocco, who raises his eyebrows but for once stays blessedly silent.

  “What are you staring at?” I ask.

  “You have gum on your sleeve,” he points out.

  A wad of chewed gum is glued to the white sleeve of my uniform. I mutter a curse, stand up, and stride toward my dorm, Rocco following behind me on guard duty. When I reach my room, I take great pleasure in slamming the door in his face.

  Chapter 8

  Week one and two blur by after that. I have to sit through Professor Darius’s disappointed frown each day when I show up without a weapon, but I listen to the lessons and take meticulous notes so I can practice once I get a replacement weapon. Nothing in the armory wants my magic, though, even after a couple visits to try for a replacement. Since I didn’t put any magic in the spork yet, it’s not a great danger that it’s gone, but it’s definitely a great annoyance.

  The school is divided into houses, each one specializing in one kind of magic—wizards, witches, conjurers, and so on—but there’s only one priestess, so I joined House of Wizardry since it’s where my only friend is assigned. Besides Basics of Magic, I don’t have any classes with Professor Darius.

  Supernatural Law class is a snooze fest until the teacher starts talking about the various loopholes in the law. Apparently, the Silas situation happens from time to time when corrupt courts allow ridiculous contracts that pretty much amount to forced servitude for people like my mother. And me. It’s happened to vampires, werewolves, and other supernaturals as well, people with much more magic who are much harder to control than my psychic mother. Lucky for me, Thorn, who’s my guard during this class, points out to the teacher that there’s an example right here. And then everyone stares at me while the teacher dissects my mother’s case in front of the whole class.

  Spell-casting is tons better, even though I have to suffer through having Rocco in there with me. Still, I get a wand like everyone else, and once they explain that any magic can be channeled once we learn the spells, I throw myself into it with all I have. If I can’t do magic with my spork, at least the wand lets me use some of it. Once I get the hang of it, I’m pretty badass at wand wielding. Too bad they forbid students from practicing on humans.

  My favorite class is my last class of the day, though—hand-to-hand combat, where Asher immediately grabs me as a partner on the first day, and after that, it’s a given that we’ll pair up every day. As we’re leaving our class on Friday, I spot Elowen leaning on the wall outside the dark arts wing, chewing on her nails and staring off into space.

  “Have you talked to Elowen this week?” I ask Asher. “She doesn’t look so good.”

  Asher looks over and purses his lips. “Since she’s in the dark magic wing of the school, I haven’t seen much of her. She’s been distant when I tried.”

  “Come on, let’s go check on her.” I nudge him, and he follows me across the grass to our friend.

  Asher gives her a hug when we reach her. “How you holding up, girl?”

  Elowen shrugs and avoids our eyes. “I’ve protested, begged, done everything I can think of to get out of here, but nothing’s helped.” Her voice cracks, and tears cling to her long lashes.

  “There must be something we can do,” I say, hating to see her in pain.

  “There’s not,” she says, her voice full of defeat. “I can feel it happening already. I’m going dark, Jade. I can’t stop it.”

  “There’s always a choice,” I say firmly. “You can’t choose your magic, but you can control what you do with it.”

  The Bellas start across the grass, walking toward the dorm.

  “I have to go,” Elowen says before turning to dart back into the building where her classes are held.

  “Look at her, scurrying away like a little rat,” Black-Haired Bella says with a sneer.

  “She looks like a rat,” Brunette Bella says, speaking loudly enough that we can hear her as she walks away with her posse, their mean laughter echoing harshly through the sunny campus.

  That night, as I lie in my bed, I can’t sleep. It’s the second weekend I’ll spend away from home, and the truth is, I miss my dad more, not less. True to his word, Professor Darius let me make a call to talk to my dad, so at least he won’t be worrying himself to death not knowing where I am. He assured me he was fine, but I can’t help but worry. What if he was saying it just to put my mind at ease so I could focus on studying?

  Letting out a sigh, I sit up and throw off my blankets. I need to see Dad for myself, to make sure he’s okay and that Silas isn’t bothering him. They haven’t let me go, since I can’t find my spork to store my magic. But I can feel my magic growing stronger, just like Elowen. The longer I wait, the more dangerous it will be to go home. I need to go now, before it gets too strong.

  I don’t have a car here, but I’m resourceful. I’ll figure something out.

  After pulling on some black jeans and a black tee, I shove my feet in my boots and grab my keys. I’ve been warned about my magic, and how dangerous it could be to leave the school, but it’s been a week and so far, not much has happened even with it increasing again. It’s not like guys are following me around sexually harassing me and refusing to take no for an answer. The other students seem more weirded out by me than attracted to me. And I’ve lived in the bad part of Jacksonville all my life. Maybe I don’t know about magic, but I can handle myself on the streets. I have a knife in my boot. I don’t need a freaking spork.

  As quietly as I can, I pull open the door and peer up and down the deserted hallway. It’s dark, though there are wall sconces flickering at the ends near the stairwells. Perfect. Closing the door behind me, I tiptoe down the hallway to the stairwell and step into the light.

  Thorn is standing on the second step, leaning against the wall with one foot propped on the wall behind him. When he sees me, he raises an eyebrow, looking so bored I wonder if he can’t be bothered to lift both brows. “Where do you think you’re going?�
� he asks, not sounding at all surprised to see me.

  I’m startled to find him there, though. For a second, I’m mesmerized by his haunting green eyes. They contrast like art with his ebony hair that’s swept over his forehead.

  Then I remember that I hate him. “What are you doing here?” I demand.

  “I have guard duty tonight. You didn’t think we left you alone at night, did you?”

  “So not only do you guys follow me around all day, you’re also stalking my room at night?”

  “And for good reason, it seems,” he says, his eyes flicking to my keys.

  “I need to see my dad,” I say, squaring my shoulders. “I have a right to say goodbye to my family, just like everyone else here got to do. And I need to make sure Silas is really okay with me not coming back right now.”

  “We’re taking care of your boss. Didn’t Darius tell you not to worry about that?”

  “Well, yeah,” I admit. “But why would I trust any of you?”

  “You can trust us,” he says. “He said don’t worry about it. That means don’t worry about it.”

  “I don’t know who to trust around here,” I admit, sagging against the wall. I realize I’m sharing something with him instead of just trading barbed comments, but I’m too frustrated to care right now.

  Thorn considers and then blows out a breath. “I get it. But you need to understand we’re guarding you for your protection. You have no idea what could happen if you let your magic go unchecked. Chaos, like you saw at the Unleashing. Is that what you want?”

  “No,” I say, slumping in defeat.

  “It’s not my first choice of ways to spend Friday night, either,” he says, his emerald eyes going frosty as he crosses his arms over his chest. I can’t help but notice the defined muscles showing through his white T-shirt. Yum.

  I pull my eyes away and straighten from the wall. “Believe me, I’m as sorry as you are for the circumstances,” I say. “So, what do you say we make a truce?”

  He narrows his eyes and studies me, and I realize my heart is pounding as I wait for his answer. I hold out a hand, and after a long moment when I’m sure he’s going to grab it and cuff me to the railing on the stairs, he uncrosses his arms and joins his hand with mine.