Academy of Sorcery: Term 1: Unleashing Trials

by Alexa B. James

  A jolt rocks through me when his warm skin connects with mine in a firm hold. I forgot how insane touching people makes me now that I have this sexy magic. Thorn quickly wets his lips. “Truce,” he says, not releasing my hand.

  I raise my eyes from our linked hands to his gemlike gaze. For one second, I can see my own turbulent emotions reflected back at me, and I realize he’s affected by me in the same way I’m affected by him.

  He yanks his hand back and crosses his arms across his chest again. “Was that a trick?” he asks, a fierce scowl on his face.

  “What? No,” I say. “I… I’m sorry.” I cross my own arms, feeling a mixture of defensive and awkward.

  “You understand why I have to say no. It’s not safe for you out there.”

  “What if you came with me?” I ask. “You can make sure I’m safe, and I can get my stuff and see my dad.”

  “You shouldn’t be alone with any man,” Thorn says. “Not even me.”

  “I’m alone with you right now,” I point out.

  Thorn works his bottom lip with his teeth, something I can’t help but stare at as that sharp white edge worries his plump lower lip. Finally he shoves his hand in his jeans pocket, and I can hear his keys jangling. “You have thirty minutes, got it? Go in, see your dad, grab some stuff and we leave. No more.”

  Happiness fills me at the thought of seeing my dad again, and I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. “You know, just when I decide I hate you guys, you go and do something redeeming, and I change my mind.”

  “Well, don’t.” He grabs my forearm and gently pulls me down the stairs with him. “There’s no redeeming any of us, and it’d be best if you remember that when you think otherwise.”

  Unsure what he means by that, I decide to shrug it off and appreciate his generosity before he changes his mind. As we cross the parking lot, I change the subject. “Why can’t I have my car?”

  “Because of this.” He waves his arm as we walk beneath a light illuminating the small lot. “If you had a car, you’d bolt at the first opportunity. We obviously can’t trust you. I mean, how were you planning on getting home, anyway? You have no cell, no money.”

  I shrug. “I’d figure it out.”

  “What were you, a car thief in your former life?”

  “I know things,” I say. “So what?”

  Thorn just shakes his head and strides over to a shiny black sports car. I don’t know much about cars, but I know fast when I see it. Shiny silver wheels and low-profile tires sit tightly under swoopy, curved fenders. It has a spoiler in the back, but it doesn’t look cheesy like some cars that have them. It belongs here, somehow.

  He unlocks the door and turns to me. “Where do you live?”

  When I give him my address, his eyes nearly bug out of his head. “Are you fucking kidding? You wanted to go there in the middle of the night? Alone?”

  “Don’t underestimate me,” I say simply, then slide into the sleek leather passenger seat.

  Thorn slides in behind the wheel. For a brief second, he looks at me with something I don’t recognize. But then the scowl returns, and he starts up his car.

  “Don’t touch anything,” he growls. “And lock your damn door.”

  He drives us up I-95 after a few minutes, and then turns off at an exit just north of the downtown area. The pond at Brentwood Park shines in the murky night air off to our left. Sandy sidewalks and palm trees line the streets, along with cars that have mostly seen better days. The occasional convenience store lights up the night with a glow of neon, and we wind through the streets of my old neighborhood.

  Though my pulse is erratic with anticipation, I can’t help but notice the shabbiness of the apartment buildings, as if seeing them for the first time. After only a week away, it looks foreign somehow—both depressing and frightening, with figures lurking in the shadows, desperate humans hawking their blood to desperate vampires, and displaced shifters curled in alleyways or digging through trash cans for scraps. And though all these things are commonplace, they seem different now. It’s as if I’m seeing the neighborhood the way Thorn must see it.

  We arrive outside our apartment building and pull up along the curb.

  I move to open the door, but Thorn grabs my wrist and stops me. “Thirty minutes. Understand? No bullshit. I’m risking my ass for you, Jade.”

  I nod, a lump in my throat. I don’t know what happened to his family, but between the look on his face last time I asked to see my dad, and the risk he’s taking right now, I know he understands this somehow. He’s lost people, too. He knows how much this means to me.

  “Thank you.”

  “Get your shit, say goodbye to your dad, and that’s it.”

  “I promise, I won’t bail on you.”

  “All right, clock’s ticking. Let’s go.”

  We both get out of the car and head for the door to our apartment. When we walk in, the place is hot and stuffy, but the light is on in the kitchen. Dad appears in the doorway a second later. He looks terrible, his skin dull, his eyes sunken. His salt and pepper hair seems more salt than pepper. He pulls me into a hug. “Thank god you’re all right.”

  “You, too,” I say, my voice muffled in his shirt. I’m glad Thorn can’t see the tears dampening my lashes.

  Dad ushers me and Thorn inside and then closes and locks the door behind him. “Who’s this?”

  “This is Thorn. One of the older students at the academy. He’s my bodyguard.”

  I shoot Thorn a look to see if he’ll protest that statement, since it makes it sound like he works for me, but he only holds out a hand to shake Dad’s.

  “Why do you need a bodyguard?” Dad asks, looking confused.

  I let out a sigh. “For the same reason you do. It seems my magic is powerful, and there are people who may want to hurt me because of it. Also, because we’ve pissed off Silas. They need to protect us both.”

  “That man,” Dad grumbles.

  I hug him one more time, because even though we’re not huggers, this might be the last time for a while. I fight back more tears as I squeeze his frail frame. “I’d love to stick around, but I only have thirty minutes,” I say, releasing my father.

  “Twenty-six,” Thorn says.

  “I need to grab a few things, like my phone.” I glare at the gorgeous sorcerer guarding the front door, then motion for dad to follow as I walk down the small hallway and into my bedroom. I flip on the light and glance around my room, exactly as I left it two weeks ago. Though I miss my dad, I have to admit the thought of returning to this gloomy house fills me with dread. Life at the academy may not be the fantasy I had in mind all those years, but it’s nice to have clean sheets, new clothes, and decent food. Knowing Dad’s safe makes the burden of guilt a bit less. If I came home to live, it would put him in danger. He’s better off with me at the academy.

  While Dad goes to get a bag, I grab my undergarments, a few favorite outfits, and my phone. I stuff them in the bag as Thorn’s voice echoes through the apartment.

  “Fifteen minutes.”

  I head to the bathroom and toss in what little make-up and toiletries that I have. A couple minutes later, I return to my room for one last thing. It’s a picture of Mom, Dad, Autumn, and me, the last one of the four of us I have. It was taken the year before Autumn died.

  I carefully wrap it in my favorite nightshirt and stuff it in my duffle. Then I pick up my pillow and shove it under my arm. I find Dad and Thorn standing in the living room not talking.

  “You look tired,” I say to Dad. “Are you sleeping okay?”

  “I’ll sleep better tonight,” he says, setting his hands on my shoulders. “But you shouldn’t have come. Thorn says it could be dangerous for you to visit.”

  I glare over his shoulder at the sorcerer. “You know I can take care of myself.”

  “Yes,” Dad says, looking sad and worn out. “You’ve been doing that since your mother died.”

  I scowl at him, not wanting Thorn to know any per
sonal details about me. But then, he already knows about Mom. Everyone in the magical community does. It just feels more personal, somehow, to have him hear it from my father.

  “I’m more worried about you,” I say to Dad. “Will you be okay?”

  “I’ll be fine,” he says. “Please don’t take unnecessary risks, Jade. I can’t lose you, too.”

  “I won’t,” I promise.

  “Five minutes,” Thorn warns.

  I want to scream at him, to throw something, to tell him what an asshole he’s being. But he doesn’t care what I think of him or what I say. All he cares about is the time and saving his own ass from getting in trouble with the headmaster.

  “You better get back,” Dad says.

  With a nod, I give Dad one last hug and turn to where Thorn is standing at the door, jingling his keys—his not-so-subtle ways of telling me time’s up.

  “I’ll call soon, okay?” I say to Dad. “Take care. Love you.”

  “You, too. Stay safe.”

  I want to say more, so much more, but my throat is choked with unshed tears, and I don’t want to show more weakness in front of Thorn. I gather my emotions and stride out the door that Thorn is holding open. I turn around to take one last look at my dad, but he’s already closed the door.

  Fighting to control my tears, I follow Thorn to his car and toss my stuff into the back seat. As I close the door, a shadow whips by me in the night.

  “Did you see that?” I ask, spinning so my back is to the car.

  Thorn’s voice is tight. “Get in the car, Jade. Now.”

  I reach out for the car door, but before I can pull it open, something slams into me. I hit the ground, skinning my palms on the concrete as I catch myself. Then I see her.

  The raven-haired beauty stands over me. She’s tall, thin and very intimidating. Her wide eyes glow out at me from the darkness.

  I jump to my feet and bend to snatch my knife from my boot. The woman is too fast, and before I have a chance to strike, she knocks the blade away with a swish of her hand.

  “Takes a lot of guts to attack a helpless newbie,” Thorn snarls, leaping at the woman.

  She spins out of his path, twisting around to shoot black energy out of her hands as she blurs across the lot. The magic hits Thorn in the chest, slamming him to the ground. Instead of rising, he begins to slide across the concrete toward her as she makes a motion like pulling an invisible rope, reeling him in. He struggles to free himself, but she keeps pulling him.

  “Thorn,” I cry, racing toward him. He reaches in his pocket, twists around, and throws me something.

  I catch it without thinking and stare down at my spork.

  I don’t have long to think about it, though. The woman has pounced on my protector.

  “Pour your magic into it,” Thorn yells at me as the woman strikes him in the neck.

  “How?” I scream, too desperate to remember the methodical lessons Professor Darius taught us.

  Thorn doesn’t answer. He throws up a hand, blocking the woman’s next volley of magic. She shrieks in anger as the blur of magic shoots into the sky instead of him.

  I close my eyes and squeeze my hand around the handle of the spork, trying to will my magic into it. For a second I’m distracted by the grooves in the back of it, a design etched in that I never even looked at in my hurry to toss it and end my humiliation. Now it’s my only hope.

  I concentrate hard, visualizing my magical energy as this blue light. A tingling sensation spreads down my arm, and I can feel the moment it pours into the spork.

  “Please don’t make us sex crazed nymphomaniacs,” I say beneath my breath as I open my eyes to check how Thorn is faring.

  He’s still fighting, but I can see the lines of pain etched across his face as the woman appears to have some kind of strangling spell on him, squeezing him tighter and tighter. His nose is bleeding, and I’m pretty sure I can see trickles of blood coming from his ears as well.

  Shit. I run over to them, desperate to get this witch-lady off my protector. Without thinking, I use my spork like it’s as mighty as any other weapon. I thrust it at her, imagining impaling her with a short sword instead of an eating utensil. The next second, I’m plunging that short sword into the woman’s chest. She screams, falling backward off Thorn and clutching her chest. Thorn scrambles to his knees, but before we can grab her, the woman disappears in a puff of black smoke.

  I stare at the sword in my hand, which is smeared with black blood.

  “What the fuck just happened?” I ask as the last trace of smoke disappears into the darkness around us.

  Thorn grunts in response. His head is bent, and blood is dripping from his face to the concrete.

  “What do I do?” I ask, glancing around. Passing vampires and shifters are sure to smell the blood and come running.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Let me help you.” I rise to my feet and grab his hand, pulling him up. “Give me your keys.”

  “You’re not driving my car.”

  “Uh, yeah. I am. Look at you.” He barely has enough energy to stand on his own much less drive. “You’re in no shape to drive, and we need to get out of here.”

  Thorn glances around, his green eyes flashing with recognition, like he’s just realizing we’re not at the academy anymore. A scuffling sound in an alley seems to make up his mind. He digs in his pocket, pulls out his keys, and smacks them into my palm. “If you wreck my car, I’ll kill you myself.”

  We climb into the car, and I start it up. It purrs to life like a kitten. This is going to be fun.

  Thorn leans forward, resting his forehead on the dashboard as he clutches his sides, his arms wrapped around himself.

  Okay, less fun than I imagined. But I’ve never driven anything but an old junker, and Thorn’s BMW is no lemon. Plus, I got to see my dad, who is safe, I got a few things from home, and I got back my spork. I even managed to use it to fight off a demon lady or whatever she is. All in all, I’d call this a productive night. I just wish I didn’t have to worry that I’m going to arrive back at the academy with a dead sorcerer in the passenger seat.

  For the next twenty minutes, I drive back to the Academy in silence.

  When we’re almost there, I turn to Thorn. “How long have you had my spork?”

  “Since you threw it away,” he says, not lifting his head. “I figured you’d need it back.”

  “And you were just going to let me go to class and disappoint the professor every day until… When, exactly? When were you planning to give it back?”

  “When you asked us about it,” he said.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a real piece of work?”

  He lets out a little breath that I’m pretty sure is laughter, but I can’t see his face so I can’t be sure. “And you’re a real brat.”

  “I prefer the term badass,” I say. “Although stubborn is acceptable if you have to insult me.”

  Thorn doesn’t respond. When we pull into the parking lot, Rocco and Ryker stand with arms folded across their chests, waiting for us.

  Chapter 9

  “What the fuck were you thinking?” Ryker asks, grabbing Thorn when he stumbles out of the car.

  “He’s hurt, leave him alone,” I say. “All he did was help me. If you’re going to be pissed at someone, you can be pissed at me.”

  Ryker turns blazing eyes my way. “Oh, trust me, I’m plenty angry at you.”

  Angry doesn’t begin to cover his expression, but before I can explain further, Rocco grabs my arm and drags me toward the dorm.

  “Hey, let me go,” I protest, but he pays no attention. I twist around to see Thorn throw and arm over Ryker’s shoulder. Ryker puts an arm around Thorn for support, and together they head off in the other direction, hopefully to see whatever doctor works on campus.

  “Maybe you need a guard inside your room,” Rocco says. “I volunteer, on the condition that you walk around your room naked at least fifty percent of the time.”

 
“You watch too much porn.”

  “What’s porn?” he asks with a grin. “I just want to see you naked.”

  “I’m surprised there’s not a Cinderella joke in there somewhere,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Maybe something about how I should wear one of those cheesy maid costumes to work?”

  Rocco’s eyes light up. “I knew we’d eventually see eye to eye.”

  I can’t help but laugh. I want to hate him, but as irritating as he is, he’s just so over the top that I can’t help but laugh at his antics. I realize with a shock of horror that I usually walk away from our interactions smiling. Crap. Have his dimples gotten to me?

  He stops outside my room and leans down, resting his forearm on the wall over my head. “Want me to come in?” he asks, his voice low and sexy, his eyes smoldering. Only the smile twitching the corner of his lips belies his true intention. “I bet you could use the company after what you’ve been through. I’m a great distraction.”

  God, he really would be. A little thrill goes through me when I think of those big, strong arms around me all night. He could probably pick me up like I weigh nothing, toss me around…

  And then I remember that I hate him, and I push him away, my cheeks warming. I can’t help but notice, though, how hard the muscles in his chest are when I press my palm against them, how warm his body feels, and the way his dimples sink into his cheeks when he laughs and steps away from me.

  “Goodnight, Rocco,” I say.

  He slips a hand behind my head and pulls me in, and for one split second, adrenaline charges through me and my heart flips over in my chest. Rocco presses his lips to my forehead before releasing me. “Goodnight, Cinderella.”

  I don’t know what’s happening to me. I fumble my keys and drop them, and Rocco chuckles when I have to retrieve them off the floor and try a second time before I can get into my room. I dart inside and close the door, then fall back against it and close my eyes, trying to get my breathing under control. But my breathing is not the problem. My hormones seem to be going wild. Or my libido. Or something.