Shadow Weaver: The Nightwatch Academy book 2

by Cassidy, Debbie

  “How many exits?”

  “Four known so far. It’s why you need to be in top form before you head back. But…” He wiggled his brows. “You have me to take care of you.”

  “Thank you. I think.”

  Larkin was there, but what about Hyde or Brady, or any of the other guys. Had they come to see me?

  Larkin studied my face, and yeah, he was probably reading my thoughts, but right now, I didn’t have the energy to fight him.

  “You had visitors,” Larkin said. “I sent them packing. You need rest. You need sleep. Besides, all the testosterone was starting to give me a headache.”

  I wanted to say nightbloods didn’t need sleep, but all that emerged was a groan because my body disagreed with me. Larkin was right. I doubted I’d be able to sit up right now. Every bone in my body felt like it was coated in lead. Carrying the weaver class out from under a collapsing ceiling had almost done me in.

  Still, the idea of lying around doing nothing, of just sleeping, was alien. “I’m not used to inaction.”

  “You don’t have much choice,” Larkin said.

  He sounded pleased about it. Had he been lonely?

  “I do not get lonely,” he snapped.

  Shit. “Then what have you been up to since we all got shipped to the mist? No first years to boss around.”

  He smirked. “While the mice are away, the cat will play.”

  I stared at him, my brain fuzzy. “I’m sure it’s the other way around.”

  “Nope.” He tapped his claws on the bedside table. “I also had a whole two seasons of Lunar Creek to catch up on.” He grew misty-eyed.

  “You too?”

  He frowned. “You don’t watch?”

  I shrugged. “Not really. Not as religiously as everyone else.”

  He blinked slowly. “It’s a window to another world, Justice. A window.”

  “Uh-huh. Now you’re being weird.”

  “You have a concussion.”

  “I didn’t hit my head … did I?”

  He shrugged. “Probably.”

  We sat in silence for a while, and then a question popped into my head. “What are you?”

  He gasped in mock horror. “How rude. What are you?” He sniffed, acting offended, but there was a glint of satisfaction in his orange eyes.

  I bit back a smile. “Has no one ever asked you?”

  He held up his paws and unsheathed his claws. “Have you seen these? Most cadets know better than to be so intrusive.”

  “I guess incapacity has made me bold.”

  He smirked and leaned in. “Either that or you’ve simply lost your mind.”

  His face wavered like he was looking at me through one of those fairground mirrors. I closed my eyes for a moment, and when I opened them, he was sitting back in his seat.

  “Are you going to tell me?”

  “Since you asked, and since it’s been such a long time since anyone has inquired, I believe I will. But not today, Justice. When the time is right. Sleep now.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  But my eyes were already closing as exhaustion washed over me in a wave. “Yeah. Yeah, I just need to …”

  * * *

  A hand smoothed over my forehead, and then a familiar cedar scent tingled my senses.

  “Brady.” I reached for his hand that was cupping my cheek. “Hey.” I opened my eyes and smiled up at him.

  His eyes were dark smudges of concern. “You almost died,” he said gruffly.

  “I’m sorry.” I didn’t know why I was apologizing, but in that moment, I needed to take away the pain that was etched onto his face.

  In that moment, I wanted to wrap myself around him and hold on for dear life. Every atom in my body yearned to be close to him. It was a sudden, violent feeling that stole my breath.

  He leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine. “I can’t lose you, Indigo, even though I know you’re not mine to keep.”

  An ache bloomed inside my chest. “Brady, I …” Words hovered on my lips. Words that, if spoken, couldn’t be taken back, and it wasn’t fair to him to say them, not now. Not until I was certain. “I’m so glad you’re here.” I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him onto the bed with me. “Can you hold me?”

  His chest rumbled, and then he gathered me to him and pressed a kiss to my temple. “Always.”

  I closed my eyes, safe in his arms, and let the healing darkness claim me once more.

  “I love you, Indie. I fucking love you.”

  But I was floating away.

  Seventeen

  Payne handed me another bag of blood. “Come on. One more.”

  I shook my head. “Trust me, I’m full.”

  He looked skeptical and then placed the bag on the bedside table. “You do look better.”

  “I feel fine.”

  I pushed back the covers and swung my legs out of bed. It had been six days. Six days to recover from my little stunt. But my body felt strong again. I was ready.

  Payne picked up the card that sat on my bedside table and turned it over. “Looks like you made some friends.”

  I smiled at the pink glitter-covered monstrosity. A get-well-soon card from the weaver class, obviously organized by Joti and signed by everyone except Fiona. At least the blackmailing bitch wasn’t a hypocrite.

  “I’m ready to go back to work.”

  I stood and did a couple of lunges to illustrate my point.

  “Hyde will be the judge of that,” Payne said with a smile.

  I tensed at the mention of his name. Six days and he hadn’t come to see me once. Not that he should. I mean, he was Master Hyde. He was a tutor, he was busy with knight stuff and managing the cadets, but Brady had come to see me three times, stealing time in between his patrols and guard duty. Thomas had come twice, and we’d hung out and talked about Harmon, and even Carlo and the twins had dropped by to check on me. Payne had been there every day. But not Hyde. Fuck, I’d wanted him to come so bad that I’d even imagined his fucking citrus scent in my room on more than one occasion.

  If I needed any confirmation as to what we were or weren’t to each other, then this was it.

  Payne was studying me with a frown, and then his mouth parted in revelation. “Oh, Indigo. It’s Hyde, isn’t it? The Tuatha you have feelings for.”

  I really needed to work on my poker face. I slumped back onto the bed. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing happened, and nothing will happen. He’s made that clear.”

  Payne exhaled in relief. “Good. Hyde is a good man. An honorable man, but still … Maybe I should have a word with him just to—”

  “No!” I stared at him in horror as my pulse fluttered like crazy in my throat. “Oh, my God, you cannot do that. I can handle this. Okay?”

  My tone came out sharper than intended, and a flash of pain crossed his face.

  “I—I’m sorry.” He tucked in his chin. “I crossed the line. It’s not my place to play dad.”

  Guilt hollowed out my chest. “No. Don’t be.” I reached out and squeezed his hand. “I love that you care. I love that you’re here, and I’m sorry I snapped at you. It’s just … I need to deal with this on my own.”

  And by deal with it, I meant get over him. Because it was time to shut the door on the possibility of Hyde and me. It was time for me to move on.

  * * *

  The package had arrived five minutes ago, and Larkin had delivered it. It was my feytech armor complete with a hastily scrawled note.

  Barracks four watchtower duty - HYDE

  Anger simmered in my veins as I donned the armor. Fucking wanker. No how are you? No glad you’re better. Fuck him.

  There was a soft knock on my door.

  My heart lurched. Was that him? No. I didn’t care. “Come in.” I injected a casual tone into my voice even though my pulse fluttered in anticipation and hope.

  Stupid, fucking, traitorous pulse.

  The door opened, and the last person I expected to see stepped into my room.

&nb
sp; Kash stood, hands in his jean pockets, surveying my room. “Minimal, isn’t it?”

  He was in a cream T-shirt that set off the bronze tone to his skin. His hair was mussed, falling artfully onto his forehead in less of a just-got-out-of-bed style and more of a would-you-like-to-come-to-bed-with-me style.

  His honey eyes lit up as they fell on me, and he let out a low whistle. “Now, that is a hot getup. Totally D and D. Paladin or crusader?”

  My instinct was to tell him to shove it, but he’d saved my life so … “Shadow knight. What do you want, Kash?”

  He sobered, and his gaze flicked to the card on my bedside table. “You got the card?”

  “Yeah, tell Joti it was sweet.”

  “That’s Joti for you.”

  “Did you come here to admire a card you’ve already seen?”

  “I wanted to thank you. For what you did. You could have left us to die, but you didn’t.”

  “Leaving you guys was never an option, and the card is thank you enough. Besides, you saved my life too. I didn’t make you a card though, sorry.”

  He grinned, showcasing his sexy teeth.

  Sexy teeth?

  Where had that come from?

  “It was the least I could do.” He looked at the ground. “I’m sorry for being such a dick to you.”

  “That wasn’t you. It was Fiona, right?”

  He leaned against the door frame. “She doesn’t like the spotlight deviating off her. She likes to shock, and she loves intimidating people.”

  “I’m sorry you had to … put up with her for so long.”

  His jaw hardened. “Oh, she’ll pay for that. I’ll make sure of it. I doubt I’m the only one she was blackmailing, and once I find out who else she has in her grip, I’m going to free them and bring down her house of cards.” He swallowed hard. “But I didn’t come here to talk about Fiona. I wanted to ask you something.”

  He sounded suddenly nervous as hell, and I was instantly on the defensive.

  “Um, okay?”

  His throat bobbed. “We have this thing every year. Nothing major, just a gathering of weavers; I suppose you might call it a ball.”

  “A ball? As in gowns and tuxedos?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Exactly that. And champagne and music.” His pink tongue peeked out to touch the corner of his mouth. “I was hoping you’d be my date.”

  Date. Had he just said date?

  He held up a hand. “Date’s the wrong word. I mean, I’d like to take you with me as my …”

  “Date?”

  He offered me a sheepish grin. “I suppose that is the best word to use.”

  “You want me to go to a weaver ball with you?”

  “Honestly. These things are boring as hell but obligatory. The few times you and I have spoken, the conversation has been … stimulating.”

  “So, you want me to entertain you?”

  He made a sound of exasperation. “You’re not making this easy.”

  I crossed my arms over my breastplate. “Look, Kash. I have no intention of becoming a weaver and no interest in the weaver world. I have to learn to control my abilities, and that’s the only reason I’m in Latrou’s class.”

  He nodded slowly. “So, you’d just dismiss a whole part of your heritage, just like that?”

  The question hit me hard. The word heritage snagged in my mind, and Payne’s words came back to me. I wasn’t just a nightblood, and I wasn’t just a weaver, but I’d spent my whole life in the nightblood world. In Baron’s world.

  Maybe it was time to see how the other half lived.

  Kash sighed. “It’s fine. I get it. You’re not interested.” He turned to leave.

  “Wait.”

  He paused and looked over his shoulder with an arched brow and the hint of a smirk. Bastard knew he had me.

  I sighed. “When is it?”

  “Half term.”

  So, in just over two weeks. I nodded. “I’ll have to work around my shadow cadet duties, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  This time, when he smiled, it was a full-wattage hit-you-in-the-solar-plexus smile. My mouth went dry.

  “I’ll get Joti to sort you a dress,” he said.

  His presumption that I’d need help irked. “What makes you think I don’t have a dress?”

  He arched a brow and raked over my armor. “Do you?”

  Urgh. “No.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll see you in class, Justice.”

  He closed the door behind him, leaving me wondering what in the world I’d just agreed to.

  Eighteen

  I entered barracks four to silence and headed straight to the dorm and changed out of the armor and into my sweats. It felt good to be back. It felt like coming home. I looked down at the bunk Brady usually slept on. He was probably still at barracks six. I picked up his pillow, held it to my nose, and inhaled. Cedar. Shit, what was I doing? I dropped the pillow back on the bed. Was it normal to miss someone so much?

  I slipped my feet into my gray fluffy slippers, one size too large, and padded into the lounge.

  “Hello? Anyone here?”

  Weird. Where was everyone?

  The watchtower was up a short flight of stairs, but the enclosed balcony wasn’t empty. A figure stood at the scope by the window with his back to me.

  My stomach flipped hard.

  Hyde’s shoulders tensed at my arrival, but he didn’t acknowledge my presence. He didn’t greet me.

  Anger surged up and flooded my veins.

  “I’m here now. You can go back down.” My tone was curt and clipped.

  Hyde straightened slowly and turned to face me. “You’re on duty with me.”

  “I can manage solo.”

  “Watchtower is two-man duty,” he said. “Protocol.”

  He was being pedantic. Brady and Lloyd allowed one-man stints all the time. This was bullshit. “Fine, then I’ll do the rotation with someone else.” My anger was leaking into my voice now. Fuck, I needed to rein it in, but I’d be damned if I could, and if I looked at him … If I looked him in the face, I’d lose it.

  “You’ll do the rotation with me. Like planned,” Hyde said, smoothly taking a step toward me.

  The air between us crackled. “Fuck you.” The words were out before I could stop them.

  “What did you say?”

  Sod it. I raised my eyes to his face, trailing my gaze up over his stubbled jaw and his hard lips and across the scars to lock on his flint-like gaze.

  “I said fuck you, Hyde.” The rage, the disappointment, the anger at myself for this very moment swirled into a ball and lodged in my throat to choke me. And then words I’d had no intention of saying spilled from my lips. “You didn’t come to see me. Not once. I get it.” I blinked back the heat gathering behind my eyes. “Message received, loud and fucking clear. I’m nothing to you. You’ve illustrated your point, and I’m over it. But right now, what I need is to just be alone. I need not to be around you. So, please, leave.” I made to brush past him, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

  I was hauled up against his taut chest and then his mouth was on mine, a hot brand claiming me. I shoved at his shoulders, tears burning my eyes, because no. I wasn’t going there again. I just wasn’t.

  He pulled back, his eyes glittering. “I came to see you. I came every day. But I shouldn’t have. I fucking shouldn’t have. I just … I couldn’t stay away.” His beautiful face was a picture of torment and confusion, want and need. “You don’t understand how it is, Indigo. You don’t understand the dangers.”

  I stared up at him through my tears, knowing that now was the time to back away, to listen to Payne’s warning.

  I opened my mouth to say as much, but caution be damned. “I don’t care.” I gripped the back of his neck. “Right now, in this moment, I just want to feel.” I tilted my face up to his so our lips were a hairbreadth apart. “Make me feel, Archer.”

  It was the first time I’d called him by his name, and any resolve he’d been cli
nging to snapped like a brittle branch. My back hit the wall, and a new heat flooded me, carnal, wanton, and unfettered.

  Our mouths met, ravenous for sensation, for the slide of tongue against tongue and the clash and scrape of teeth. He was tangy and salty and fucking delicious. He hoisted me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss. My fingers dug into his shoulders, up his neck, and over his shorn head, wanting him closer, wanting him inside me.

  His hands fumbled with the tie to my sweats, and then I was pinned to the wall, and his hand was sliding into my pants, fingers sliding over my pubic bone and into my wet heat. Oh, fuck.

  I was swollen and ready, jerking against him as he stroked and circled the sweet spot. He swallowed my gasps hungrily and then pushed into me. I tilted my hips, allowing him deeper access. Heat rose up from my toes, slow and spiraling, pooling at my core and tightening in delicious warning. My heart hammered to get out of my chest, and blood rushed like a tsunami in my ears. Almost there. Oh, God, I was so close, but it wasn’t his fingers I needed. I needed more. I reached between us to grip him through his cargo pants. He was rock-hard and ready.

  He groaned into my mouth as I began to massage him through the fabric.

  “Fuck, Indigo. Oh, fuck.” He moaned.

  I unzipped him before sliding my hand down his pants to grip his velvet, hard cock.

  It swelled and jerked in my hand.

  “Motherfucker,” Archer growled.

  “Archer, please.” I wanted him inside me so bad.

  He claimed my mouth, deepening the kiss while he picked up the tempo with his fingers and then there was no thought, only the sensation of his fingers inside me and my hand around his cock, pumping until we were both crying out as his seed spilled hot over my hand.

  The kiss softened to pecks, and then we were nose to nose, breathing hard.

  “Indigo, I … Oh, fuck.”

  A heavy weight settled on my chest. “I know. I know this can’t be a thing. I get it.”