by Sarina Dorie
“The one that’s going to be really unpleasant?” I asked it as a joke, but part of me feared what he would ask for.
“I’m afraid you might think so.” His expression turned serious, his eyes no longer smiling. “It’s in regard to Professor Felix Thatch.”
Dread settled like a lump in my belly.
He laughed. “If only you could see the expression on your face! One would think you assumed I was going to ask for his heart on a silver platter or some such thing. What I want is far less gruesome, but . . . more difficult.”
I waited.
“I want you to agree that you will not permit yourself to be alone with that man. I want you to make sure you don’t put yourself in a position in which he’ll use you, magically or otherwise.”
I bit my lip, thinking it over. “I don’t want anyone to use me, especially Thatch.” Not after what he’d just done to me. “But I don’t see how I can avoid being alone with him. He’s my magic mentor. I have lessons with him.”
“What if I arrange to find you a tutor?” He hugged me around the shoulder.
He was unbelievably sweet. My heart ached for him even though he was right beside me. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but . . . what he’s teaching me . . . it’s learning to control and regain my affinity. I can’t reveal that to just anyone.”
His brows crinkled in confusion. “He understands enough about the Red affinity to teach it to you?”
“Yes.” It wasn’t my place to tell Elric about the others with Red affinities. If Thatch was strong enough and clever enough to hide what he was, I wasn’t about to reveal it by saying too much. I imitated Thatch’s arrogant British accent. “A Merlin-class Celestor knows how to do every kind of magic.”
Elric laughed at that before sobering. “What exactly does this training consist of? How is he teaching you to regain your affinity?”
Theoretically this was a safer subject. “There are a couple of different lessons. He has this torture chair—” From the shocked look on Elric’s face, I amended my words. “It’s a meditation chair. I just call it that because it’s cold and hard. It isn’t very comfortable. I suspect it isn’t supposed to be. I’m supposed to block out all sensations and meditate. In some of my meditations I’m supposed to face my fears in the chair so that if I’m in a scary situation someday, I won’t lose control. I told you about those ones. Other times I’m supposed to block my affinity’s reaction to pain.”
“Does he touch you?”
“He pinches me.” Of course there were the other times I sat in the chair and dreamed he’d kissed and caressed me. I had assumed that was a fantasy, but after what had happened at the swing dance club, I doubted his morals more than ever.
“There’s something else?” Elric tilted his head to the side, watching me. “Something you don’t want to tell me?”
I hated that he could read me so well. I could have forced my face into a smile and lied, but I didn’t want to keep secrets from him.
“I told you before about how my subconscious dreams of, well, kissing him. I decided it was because I find him intimidating and my mind is afraid of that. But I’ve started to wonder . . . what if he actually is kissing me? It would sort of make sense because of how my affinity works. I need physical contact if I’m going to replenish my affinity. He says he doesn’t think I should restore my magic—I’ll only draw more attention to myself if I do.”
Elric nodded. “He’s correct. You risk exposure if you can’t mask what you are.”
“But I want to be a witch. I want magic. Thatch agreed he’ll help me since it’s what I want. There are . . . things I have to do in order for it to come back. Like that night I was with you out in the woods—after our date in the Morty Realm—if I experience intense physical sensations, I have to meditate afterward and contain the magic inside me or else it will cause problems. Like it did that night.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Has he offered to assist you with this?”
Heat flushed to my face. If I was going to be honest about my affinity and training, I might as well go all the way. “He did offer once, but that was months ago. Since then, I’ve been trying to do it on my own. I then have to go to his meditation chair afterward.”
He squeezed my shoulder, his touch exuding reassurance. “The process you’re using to regain your affinity is slightly different than my late wife’s method. When Carolyn lost her magic, she needed to use touch as well. For her, it wasn’t pleasure per say. Her magic came out the strongest during kinesthetic movement. She was a dancer and loved music. If she danced with a partner—usually with me—it made her magic stronger. Of course, we learned there were other rhythms she could . . . undulate to that worked just as well.”
His meaning was clear from the impish smile on his face. “I imagine it would be the same with you. We don’t need Professor Thatch’s assistance for any of this. I can help you. And I can ensure you meditate afterward and you remain in control.” He tugged me to my feet. “What do you think about me being your new magical mentor?”
I laughed in giddy delight. Everything would be so much easier if he was my teacher. “Yes, I would love that.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” He placed a hand on the small of my back, guiding me along the path. My pajama top had ridden up enough that one of his fingers brushed across naked skin between the pants and shirt. The sensation made my skin tingle with warmth.
Fireflies lit the way, but it was difficult to tear my eyes from his perfect face. He was so beautiful inside and out. He was a dream come true.
“How are you feeling right now? Not hating me, I hope?” he asked.
I laughed. “No.”
“Are you ready for your first magic lesson? I promise I won’t pinch you like he does—unless you ask me to.”
I linked my arm through his. “I’m tired, but probably not too tired for a . . . magic lesson.”
“Good.” He leaned closer, his breath warm on my ear. “Because my first magic lesson starts with you removing all your clothes.”
“Yeah? What else? I don’t like surprises.”
“Indeed. For that reason, we aren’t going to deviate too far from your current regime of training. You can lie naked on the bed and touch yourself while I watch. I might lend help if I deem it’s needed.”
“What kind of help?”
“Perhaps an occasional kiss or caress if I feel my student is worthy. If the teacher’s pet wants more, she’s going to have to ask for additional tutoring.”
I’d never felt this excited for a magic lesson before.
It was late when I returned to my room. Vega was gone, to my relief. In the morning I woke later than usual. On her bed a book lay open, attesting to her return, even if she was now gone. Because I didn’t want to die, I didn’t make it a habit of touching Vega’s things, so I left it there.
I spent most of the day with Imani, and I didn’t go to Thatch for a lesson as I was supposed to. When I heard the swift stride of his feet tapping toward me in the hallway, I walked in the other direction. I considered forgoing food entirely, or stealing some from the kitchen in between meals, but ultimately I decided I wasn’t going to be able to avoid him forever. At dinner, he sat with Imani. His presence made my skin crawl after what he’d done outside the swing club.
He didn’t meet my eye. I hoped he felt ashamed of himself. I piled my tray high with food. I excused myself to eat alone in my room.
“Miss Lawrence, please don’t go. I want to spend time with you,” Imani begged.
“Leave her be,” Thatch said quietly. “You’ll have to tolerate my company today.”
My roommate didn’t return, so I assumed she was done tormenting me for the summer. The book remained open on her bed.
Typically I checked my mailbox every day, since I never knew when I might receive a letter from Elric. Today my box was empty. The following day a note in Thatch’s hand was folded in my box.
Will yo
u meet with me to talk?
I folded the paper in half and recycled it. The fact that he was willing to ask me rather than tell me I was going to meet with him was an improvement from his usual arrogance, but I wasn’t going to reward his behavior the night before by forgiving him for the transgression. I had promised Elric I wouldn’t spend time alone with Thatch. It was all the excuse I needed to stay away.
The following day I found a note from Elric. In code he had written that he would meet me in the forest after dark for our next magic lesson. I could barely contain my excitement. Magic and love—all at the same time! It was a dream come true.
I found another note from Thatch. I recycled that one without reading it.
When I peeked into the cafeteria at dinner, it was just Jeb and Imani dining. Thatch was nowhere in sight. I joined them and enjoyed the meal. Jeb finished early. He didn’t linger.
The moment he left, Imani asked, “What is going on with you and Mr. Thatch?”
“Beeswax,” I said, using the phrase my mom had used when I had been a child.
Imani crossed her arms. “Mr. Thatch is acting all mopey—mopier than usual. I want to know why.”
“It isn’t any of your beeswax,” I repeated.
“He likes you, you know,” she said.
“No, he doesn’t. If he liked me, he would treat me with respect and dignity.”
“I take it he messed up?”
“Big time.”
Monday night I snuck out to meet Elric in the forest for a magic lesson. Most of the lesson consisted of the sensual massage he gave me and controlling my powers afterward. On Wednesday night as I snuck downstairs, I found Jeb standing at the front door of the school.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I reckon I could ask you the same.” He raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“I’m sorry. I was . . . um.” I tried to think up a lie as quickly as possible. “I was hungry. I wanted to see if there was any bread left in the kitchen.”
Jeb pointed down the hall. “The kitchen is that way, darlin’.”
I headed away from the front door and toward the kitchen. After waiting to make sure I hadn’t been followed, I snuck toward the back of the school instead. In the crumbling wing of the school my mother had destroyed, I spotted a looming figure. It could have been Thatch or Jeb. Even worse it might have been Derrick, but I doubted that. Even so, just the idea of Derrick made me sick. I tiptoed back to bed.
It seemed my evenings of sneaking off had come to an end.
I wrote Elric the next day, explaining what had happened in code. He wrote back to tell me he would be taking Vega out on a date that evening. I found her in our room after dinner, dressed in a twenties cocktail dress.
The moment she stepped into the room, she tossed the book from her bed in my face. “Get your damned things off my bed.”
It was a good thing I had years of experience catching items I juggled, or else I might not have been able catch the old book before it fell. “That isn’t my book.”
“Well, it isn’t mine either.” She crossed her arms. “Are you going to hurry up and get dressed? I haven’t got all night.” She was in an even pissier mood than usual.
We met Elric at a dance hall, similar to the one we’d gone to last time. He danced with me every other dance. He made his guards dance with Vega in between sets. The resigned expression on the captain of the guard’s face was priceless.
Elric twirled me to a slow song before holding me close. “It would be interesting to see if dance can bring out your affinity like it did for Carolyn,” he said. “Her magic was truly beautiful in action.”
“Sometimes I don’t understand why people think the Red affinity is so bad,” I whispered. “It’s not like Elementia are snubbed and feared because some are fire elementals and might burn someone.”
He nodded approvingly. “Just so. Not all Reds are soul-sucking Witchkin who use pain magic, blood magic, or necromancy. Your magic is good, just like Carolyn’s.”
“Yes, of course it is.” Except when I used it for evil.
I had unwittingly used my affinity for blood magic at least once in my life, setting a poster on fire on my first day with flames of seraphim. Possibly I’d used blood magic to create a golem. I’d used it to speak with the dead. I’d resurrected Derrick.
Would Elric think I was evil if he knew? I had been learning to control my pain so it wouldn’t hinder my affinity. Surely he would think Thatch was evil if he found out about his pain magic—but that would be confirmation bias since he already believed that.
In any case, this wasn’t the time or the place to discuss this business. Another time I could consider his words. In the meantime, I intended on exploring the depths of my affinity through lighter, more enjoyable methods: dance.
If friction was the key, fast dancing was the wrong kind of movement for me. Slow dancing was romantic as Elric held me close and stared into my eyes, but I didn’t feel my affinity fluctuate. Dancing was a fun experiment in any case. And I welcomed an opportunity to spend time with him.
The next day I found a book on my bed, the same one that had been on Vega’s. It had fallen open to a page with a family tree. The book was titled Peerage of the Fae Courts: The Silver Court, Volume I. It was a peculiar coincidence that I was dating Elric, he was of the Silver Court, and this book that just happened to be about him was open on my bed.
This wasn’t my book or Vega’s, which meant someone had come into my room and left it for me to find. Imani? Jeb? Thatch?
I skimmed the pages, pausing when I came to the section about Elric. He had an entire chapter devoted to his human and Witchkin marriages. I knew about his late wife, Carolyn. Then there was Deborah. She was Dox Woodruff’s mother. He had been one of the former teachers at the school, and he had died in 1932. Elric had also told me about his human wife who had gone insane from his muse magic—back before he fully understood what he was and knew how to control it. His Morty wife’s name was Ann. Their marriage had been brief, not even two years, but she had given him a son.
Elric had dropped other tidbits about his wives, savory morsels he only shared with me. For some reason I had assumed he had three wives: Ann, Carolyn, and Deborah.
What he had failed to tell me was about the thirty other wives.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The Other Woman—Women
I started to hyperventilate seeing how many women Elric had married in his lifetime. Thirty-three? Plus, the book showed his bastard children borne by mistresses. After his first two Morty wives, he had taken a Fae wife, though they had produced no children.
I tried to calm myself. These were different times. Royalty had mistresses. It was considered to be their right. Probably he wouldn’t do that anymore. He had given up gifting magical orgasms to other women and agreed he wouldn’t permit his bath attendants to pleasure him, so it wasn’t like he was opposed to the idea of monogamy.
The important thing was that hardly any of the marriages overlapped.
I looked again. Some of them overlapped!
He’d had two wives at once. Hot tears filled my eyes. Indignation rose in me, as if he had cheated on me. It was completely silly. He hadn’t betrayed me. The person who had left this book in my room had done so to make trouble, either Thatch or the principal.
Even so, what I read troubled me.
Elric had been born about five hundred years before. If he had thirty-three wives, that meant on average he remarried every . . . fourteen years? Holy craparoni! He was like an STI waiting to happen. I was so glad we hadn’t advanced beyond petting and making out.
He and I needed to have a serious talk.
I sent Elric a letter telling him what I’d found in the book and asking him if it was true. I didn’t send any secret messages in this one. Only after I sent it did I go back to the book and examine it more closely. It came from our library.
Who wanted to destroy my re
lationship with Elric more than anyone else? Felix Thatch, of course. It made sense when I thought about the timing of when I’d found it—right after Elric had made Thatch into a puppet and Thatch had gotten his revenge.
Elric’s letter came, but not by post. It drifted in through the window as Imani and I sat studying in my classroom. The parchment flew in on a breeze, twisting and turning like an oversized autumn leaf.
“What’s that?” Imani asked.
I snatched it out of the air, recognizing Elric’s handwriting at once. “Beeswax.”
She groaned. “You aren’t fun anymore, Miss Lawrence. You have too many secrets these days.”
I ignored her comment and read.
My dearest Clarissa,
The book of Fae peerage is incorrect about some of the marriages, mistresses, and children that were conceived as a result of these liaisons.
My momentary relief turned to shock as I kept reading.
I didn’t have thirty-three wives. I had thirty-six.
I realize this must be something of a surprise to you. It would be easier to explain if we could speak of this in person, but I know we are banned from doing so. If only you could meet me at midnight in the forest with the moon as our lamp and the moss of the forest as the cushions of our couch to provide a comfortable place for us to speak in person.
If only we could meet tonight. But Alas, I know we cannot.
Love, your most devoted friend,
Elric
Prince of the Silver Court
P.S. You might want to destroy this letter before prying eyes try to discover what I’ve written.
Imani tried to read over my shoulder. I shredded the letter.
I had to find a way to meet him at midnight.
I snuck out of the school at eleven-thirty, using the back hallways to the crumbled section of the school. I climbed out a window without any glass in it. At one point I thought I heard a rustle behind me and froze. Perhaps it had been my imagination. Or was it Sam, the groundskeeper?
