by Tarah Scott
“Ms. Crowe?” Miss Mack’s strident tone shatters the spell.
I shiver and clear my throat. “Yes?” I croak.
“Do you have something to say?”
I frown in confusion, then realize I’m standing, fists clenched at my side. I quickly drop back into my seat. The students around me shift nervously. Hell, I don’t blame them. What the hell just happened?
Miss Mack stares at me a good three seconds before resuming her lecture. “As you saw, control is key. As hard as this type of magic is to learn and control, it’s infinitely more difficult with live Shadows present. Does anyone have any idea what went wrong when Leilah attempted the spell while in a dream state?”
“She was probably calling on The Shadows,” Ariel mutters.
A murmur sweeps the room. My heart races. They really think I’m like Grams. I start. She isn’t guilty of a damn thing—other than trying to help the Illumina—and neither am I.
“If Ms. Crowe had called on Shadows, those husks would have risen from the dead like Lazarus,” Blade’s voice cuts through the light murmur.
Everyone turns toward him.
“What went wrong was an overload.” He pushes away from the wall and walks to the front of the class. When he faces us, I’m certain the eyes of every female in the room are glued to him. “This is a prime example of why you’re here. Untrained, your abilities have the power to destroy you.”
“Only if The Shadows return,” a guy of about twenty says.
Blade nods slowly. “Who here wants to chance The Shadows aren’t going to return?”
The room goes quiet. Even I don’t have a pithy retort. The power I felt moments ago is a fraction of what I sensed in the meadow and I ended up on the floor in the fetal position. Looking at Blade, however, I easily imagine the discipline—the power—the courage, it must have taken to face The Shadows. He would be nothing short of a god with sweat on his brow, his sinewy muscles straining as he controlled that magic within a world of complete harmony. A world he controlled.
He crosses his arms and my mouth goes dry when his biceps bulge. My inner core tightens. Fuck, what is it with me of late? First Ethan and now Blade? If I’m honest with myself, I’m brewing an attraction for them both.
Miss Mack glances at Blade, then focuses her attention on the class. “If you find yourself taken in the Reaping, the first thing you must remember is not to succumb to distrust and depression. Do not allow yourself to give into any fears, bitterness or anger that you harbor deep inside. Control begins here, in this world.”
One girl to my left shakes her head. “I can barely do that now. How am I supposed to do that if The Shadows infect me?”
Miss Mack opens her mouth to answer, but Blade says, “Find someone and ask for help.” The compassion in his eyes tug at my heart. I’m right. This man is so much more than a sexy playboy.
“Easier said than done,” the girl mutters.
“You’re right,” Blade replies. “It’s hard.”
The girl looks at him and, instead of the dreamy lust so clear in on the faces of other female students, gratitude appears in her eyes.
He smiles gently. “One day at a time,” he says. “That’s how we get through. That’s how we beat The Shadows.”
“One of your strongest defenses against fear is meditation,” Miss Mack says. “Deep mediation. Go to the place that brings you the most peace.
Blade flashes a dazzling smile that sets my heart racing—probably the reaction of every other woman in the room. “On that note, I’ll take my leave.” Groans go up amongst the girls—and a couple of the guys, I notice. “Never fear,” Blade says. “You’ll see me in different classes.” He faces Miss Mack. “We’ll speak later, Miss Mack.”
She blanches and I can’t help but savor a rush of satisfaction even though I know her reprimand will only worsen matters between her and I.
Blade leaves and we spend the next two hours on deep meditation and simple earth magic without incident and without Miss Mack calling on me. Class lets out, and I’m on the path, headed to my next class, when Fran catches up with me.
“Hey, Leilah,” she says. Her brown eyes sparkle, but there’s tension at the corners of her mouth that warns me she’s troubled.
“Hey.” I keep walking. I catch sight of two men, Watchmen, descending the half dozen steps from the Administration building. “What’s with the Watchmen?” I ask.
“Since the Shadow War, they patrol the grounds,” she replies without her usual warmth.
I glance at her. She’s obviously got something on her mind.
We walk in silence for a minute before I say, “Spit it out, Fran.”
She surprises me with a blunt, “What’s going on between you and Commander Tyrion?”
I’m startled by the question, but keep a neutral expression and say, “I’m not after any favors.”
“The commanders have no say in who graduates. Do you want him?”
“Want him? What—”
She grabs my arm and pulls me to a stop. “He’s mine.”
“Not sure he’s the kind you can own,” I counter.
She shrugs. “I’ll have him in my bed within the week.”
The proclamation incites an unwanted stab of jealousy. God, I feel like I’m back in high school.
Chapter Eleven
LEILAH
Vampires and Ass Kickings
Early afternoon, I pass a group of three girls on the walkway, then scrutinize the trees on the southeast corner of the campus where I last saw Stony. Maybe I should skip the sparring class and search for her. I really had expected her to find my dorm room last night. I think of Grams’ house, my house, my and Stony’s chance at something solid. She never complains—not about where we live or not having much money or hiding from the Watchmen—but she wants a home as much as I do. Stony knows we’re here to claim what’s mine. I hesitate. Skipping first-day classes won’t endear me to The Academy.
So, you don’t really care what happened to Grams, then? my inner voice asks.
“Hush,” I mutter, and refocus on the building that marks my next class. I have to clear Grams’ name in order to get the Illumina to release the house. Finding out what really happened is part of the deal.
Five minutes later, I reach the field on the north side of The Academy compound. The sun is shining and there’s a crisp bite in the air that will keep me from working up a sweat. Still, I could use another cup of coffee.
I join the students who mill about until a thirty-year-old man announces, “Today, there’s no magic on the field. Hand to hand combat only. Line up and stretch first.”
I follow orders. At least, I’ll be able to keep in shape while I’m here, and a good sparring match will help me work off the residual sexual tension remaining after my encounter with Ethan the day before yesterday and all the subsequent classmate snubs. In bed alone last night, I’d taken matters into my own hands—it was that or insomnia—but my hands aren’t as warm and strong as his. I shiver at a flash memory of his green eyes locked with mine and I wonder for the hundredth time what his mouth would feel like on mine.
As I stretch my arms over my head, my attention snags on three unfamiliar men strolling near a distant building. If their black body armor didn’t give them away, their walk would. Watchmen.
“Good morning, class,” the teacher says. I tear my attention from the Watchmen as the teacher halts near the students opposite me and says, “Pair up with the closest person to you.”
The closest person to me, the girl who’d openly stared at me the other day, meets my gaze, then whirls. Too late. The other two students nearest her have already paired up. The look the two girls send her way carries open spite. So, no one wants to pair up with me, and they think it’s funny she’s stuck with me. I don’t have to ask how I’ve garnered their disdain. This is just a continuation of breakfast in the dining hall. Though I do wonder what she’s done to garner their disfavor.
“Chelsea, you’re with Leilah,�
�� the instructor announces, then begins walking the line. “No magic, this time, Ariel. I won’t warn you again.”
Chelsea faces me and my body hums with anticipation. She circles me like an animal. In the fifteen years I lived with Grams, I learned more about magic than most people might in a lifetime. Add my street survival to that knowledge and skill and I’m a formidable opponent, with or without magic.
I dodge Chelsea’s sluggish punch, then whirl and lightly kick her in the ass. She spins to face me, eyes blazing.
“You should spar with someone more on your level,” I say.
Her eyes darken. “I don’t need to change partners, witch.”
I startle at her venom. Her hatred feels way more personal than the like grandmother like granddaughter attitude I’ve received.
“Do I know you?” I ask.
Chelsea lunges, legs kicking in an awkward semblance of martial arts moves I’ve never seen. I block with my arms and retreat. She puts her weight behind her kicks and my arms take a beating.
“Do you really want to do this?” I demand when she lands, breathing hard. “You’re going to force me to hurt you.”
She surges toward me, fists up, legs kicking. I seize her right ankle and she teeters, barely managing to stay on her feet.
“All I have to do is yank and you’ll go down on your ass,” I warn.
Chelsea yanks her foot free and starts kicking, again. She adds a punch, which I block, then I grab her left leg and yank. She drops onto her butt like lead. To her credit, she rolls away from me and shoves to her feet.
I grin. “That’s not bad.”
She backs up several paces, but before I can advance, a tall, dark-haired man I can only describe as a Greek god steps between us. He’s dressed in a tank top that showcases sculptured muscles hard as marble, and tight sparring pants that leave nothing to the imagination.
Vampire.
He’s an instructor of some sort, or I’m Bugs Bunny. God have mercy. Are all the instructors at The Academy gods?
I register the tension in his body and turn sideways an instant before he leaps. He’s all grace and power. I swing my leg up in a roundhouse kick, but my foot slices through air. I start at the sting of a slap to my arm and swing around to find the vampire standing three feet away. Of course, he’s not even breathing hard.
“If you can use your powers, I can use mine,” I snap.
“Powers won’t always help you,” he retorts.
With this damn sigil on me, I can’t prove him wrong. An idea strikes. The sigil is dragon magic. Fire and I are very good friends. Maybe I can teach Mr. Greek God Asshole a small—very small—lesson.
I snap the energy inside me into a dense ball of energy, thrust out the hand with the sigil and mentally shout Fire! Heat races down my arm, hits the sigil like a brick wall and a fire hot as a branding iron mashes against my flesh. The pain intensifies the force of my will and a small ball of fire appears in front of my palm.
His mouth falls open. “What the fuck—”
The fireball explodes like a smoke bomb.
Not very elegant, I know, but sometimes, there’s just no time for frills. I drop to a squat, hook my right foot around his ankle, and yank with all my might. A satisfied whoof sounds, but I don’t wait to see the fruits of my labor. I roll away and leap to my feet only to feel another slap, this one to my ass.
I whirl to face him. “What the hell kind of lesson is this?” I demand.
“The kind that teaches you how to survive.”
“You want me to survive? Then have the dragon remove his muzzle.” I thrust my hand forward to show the damn sigil and reddened flesh. I ignore the sigil’s growing heat.
“You’ll hurt yourself,” the vampire replies coldly.
I open my mouth to tell him to fuck himself, but he leaps upward. I jump into the air to meet his assault, left leg drawn up beneath me, right leg shooting out for a vicious kick.
My foot makes contact with something hard—which could be any part of his body, including his very thick skull. Arms of steel band around me and we hit the ground with a thud, me on top.
I drag in a harsh breath and yank my arm up, intent upon ramming my elbow into his ribs, but he rolls on top of me. My breath catches when our eyes meet. The man is so damn beautiful it’s almost a crime. I could fall into those dark eyes and never return. I squirm beneath him and, to my shame, the hard planes of his body pressed against mine send an unexpected wave of desire through me.
What the hell?
“No using your damn vampire charms on me,” I snap.
I center my thoughts in my core and send my power up through my chest to shove him off me. The sigil burns my hand. I push through the pain and force my energy.
“Off, mother fucker,” I wheeze.
His crushing weight eases, and evil glee bubbles up with the thought of how I’ll kick his ass, even if the damn sigil burns a hole through my hand. His weight abruptly crushes me, again. Cries go up from other students and my mind registers the high-pitched battle cry of a…pig.
Stony’s squeal causes the vampire to look up. His brows plunge in confusion as she barrels over him and they topple to the ground in a flaying mix of legs and hooves. Stony lands on top of him and bites his arm. He growls and seizes her head.
“No!” I shout, and shove to my feet.
Stony shifts and rises to full height. In her natural form, she resembles something like a Wookie, only with claws and teeth that would make a saber-toothed tiger jealous.
The vampire leaps to his feet and demands, “Whose familiar is this?”
I step between them and whisper, “Down, girl.”
To my relief, Stony shifts back into her pig form but leans against my legs.
The vampire pins me with his dark glare. “Yours, I see, Ms. Crowe. No familiars are allowed at Illumina Academy.”
“Fine,” I snap. “Stony and I will leave.” I start to turn.
The vampire lifts a staying hand. “You stay.”
I snort. “I don’t take well to commands.”
Behind me, someone sucks in a shocked breath and I realize a deadly silence has fallen. So. People don’t talk to Mr. Obnoxious this way?
His eyes glitter. He’s angry. Really angry. He’s coiled tight, muscles bulging beneath that damn tight shirt, and suddenly, all I can think about is just how gorgeous he is, even furious. No, because he is furious. There’s fire running through him that’s contagious, a force I want to unleash, touch, and experience.
He jerks his head, the motion causing a strand of dark hair to fall over his forehead. He’s beyond sexy. “Back in line,” he commands.
His obnoxiousness shatters whatever spell I’m under. “I’m out of here.” I get three steps and he’s in front of me, blocking my retreat. I narrow my eyes. “So, Illumina Academy keeps prisoners?”
“When they don’t have the sense to know when to stay,” he replies. I start to tell him to go to hell and he says, “It’s this, or we strip you of your magic.”
My heart pounds. What he’s threatening is monstrously wrong, but it’s the law and he can enforce it. I glare. “This is about you being pissed that Stony tackled you and was about to kick your ass.”
The vampire steps so close I swear I can feel his heat. His eyes lock onto mine. “Order her to leave.”
The need to blast him with my magic is so strong, the sigil heats again. Fucking dragon fire.
“Do not further test my good graces,” he says.
A man pushes through the crowd. Ethan. He glances from the vampire to me, then to Stony. His gaze snaps onto the sigil. “Put magic from your mind, Leilah.”
I keep my eyes locked on the vampire.
“Enough, Raith,” Ethan says.
Raith? The name is a punch to my gut.
“Raith Vanderkoff.” I step so close I can see myself reflected in his perfect dark eyes. “I should have known. Trying to prove that you’re better than the newest High Potential? Is this how you get you
r kicks? Or are you just trying to finish off the last Crowe for good?”
Those eyes turn colder. “You’re here to learn, Ms. Crowe. I’m here to teach.”
Stony growls. If you’ve never heard a pig growl, it’s because they don’t.
“Get that familiar off the grounds, immediately.” Without another word, he turns and walks away.
Ethan watches him for several heartbeats, then faces me. “Raith is right. No familiars allowed.”
I try to slow my pounding heart. “She has nowhere to go.”
“You must have a friend.”
“A friend who will care for a forty-pound pig?” I say. Past his shoulder, I notice Miss Mack, almost hidden behind the audience of students. A tiny curve of her mouth causes me to return my attention to Ethan. “You’re telling me that no other witch has their familiar here?”
He shakes his head. “Who can we call?”
I’m at a loss. I can’t leave her. I found her a squealing piglet on the road, little more than hide and bones. She might die without me.
“I’m leaving.” They can try to rip my power from me. I sure as hell won’t make it easy for them.
Shock flashes across Ethan’s face. “Don’t be a fool.”
I shake my head. “I won’t leave her.”
He steps closer and whispers, “You realize the moment your powers are stripped, you will no longer have a familiar?”
I blink.
“Don’t do this,” he warns.
Stony bumps my leg. My throat closes with emotion. Stony begins to shimmer. In the blink of an eye, she morphs into a hawk.
“Stony,” I gasp, but she’s not listening—not that she ever does. She unfurls gold-tipped wings and lifts off the ground. I reach for her, but she evades my grasp “No!” I stumble after her.
She swoops toward me but stays out of arm’s reach, voices a hawk scream, then lifts higher. I choke back a sob and stare until she’s out of sight.
