by CY Jones
I don’t know how long we stay that way, no one dares interrupts us. I guess not if Quinn is the one in charge now. Back home, people always commented on our relationship. That it’s not right for us to be so close if our parents don’t intend for us to be together, but we never let it bother us before. We know we’re weird, plus we have our reasons.
“Quinn,” I murmur.
“What’s up?” he asks against my skin.
“I’m hungry.” My stomach takes that moment to make a loud rumbling noise, sounding like a monster with a nail caught in its foot and Quinn chuckles before stepping back.
“Killing sprees make me hungry too. Come on, let’s feed the beast or else he’ll eat me,” he teases.
His words don’t bother me. Maybe they should. Maybe there’s something wrong with me that I can happily eat knowing my brother and I just killed people. Blood flowing from a man’s detached head makes me thirsty. Another running in the dark terrified leaves me ravenous. Letting loose spirits for the sole purpose to take revenge makes me wish I was there to see them do it. I wonder, did they rip him apart? Halved and quartered him, and then fed him piece by piece to the gators? I would have, right after I scalped their cocks for my dolls.
Quinn takes the dune buggy and drives us to a twenty-four hour diner about fifteen minutes away from the academy. It’s run by mages, so it’s a safe place to eat without hiding who we are. Going out in public, normies usually gawk at my brother because of the way he dresses and his long ass hair.
We don’t talk about what happened. We’ve stopped sharing our abilities with each other after I made my promise to our father. I have my reasons, but I don’t know his. I suspect he stopped because of Leslie. She’s a snake and since birth, she’s been whispering venom in his ears, trying very hard to make Quinn hate me like the others, but he never has.
“Why are you so quiet?” he asks before taking a long ship of his chocolate shake.
“Tell me, brother. Want to share how you got the light mages wrapped around your finger so quickly?” I prod. Yes, I’m being nosey as hell because I really want to know. Maybe I can do the same with the dark mages. I don’t want to be queen, but I need to make it into that top ten somehow. Leslie will never let me live it down if I don’t. It’s not like she expected much out of me, but to die when she sent us here, and fuck her. I couldn’t care less what she thinks. It’s Dad I want to make proud. I want to prove to him that all those years he spent training me didn’t go to waste. That I can take care of myself.
“Whatever do you mean, dear sister?” he teases, smiling like the cat who ate the canary.
“Cut the crap Quinn. I’m not blind. I see how they refer to you. Two of your little foot soldiers are outside on guard now. You’re someone important enough to protect.” He’s quiet, steadily sipping his shake. Is this the consequence of competition? Does he not think he can trust me now?
After a long sigh, he finally answers. “Truthfully, it wasn’t really that hard. They love to gossip here and that little tour guide with the big tits and tight ass told me everything I needed to know. Who’s the top players are, who I’ll have to kill…” he cuts off.
“So you played the rumor game?” I ask, confused. Seriously, I’m fucking lost. It could not have been that easy.
“I knew Cayden would eventually come gunning for me as the new kid and a Boudreaux, although I didn’t know that was his girl I slept with. I had our tour guide spread rumors to force his hand. That, combined with the shit with his girl, sent him after me. I hate that I put you in danger though. I didn’t mean for it to go down like that. If I knew he’d retaliate that quickly, I wouldn't have asked you to come back to my room with me.”
“And your followers? How did you get all of them?”
“I guess the rumors worked in my favor. When Cayden confronted me, I already had more than half of them under my thumb. Killing him just cemented the rest.”
“You’re being very cryptic with your answers, brother. What rumors did you spread? I want to know everything. Not bits and pieces. Even puzzles reveal the full picture on the cover, you just have to rearrange and fit the pieces together.”
“I used our name and family history. Have you forgotten all our siblings graduated their academy’s in the number one spot?” No, I haven’t forgotten. Leslie will never let that happen. It’s a good thing that I got sent with the dark mages so I’m not competing with Quinn for that numeral uno spot.
“Rumors and our family name. Is that really all it took? Wow! These people are really shallow,” I mutter.
“They are, but they’re also dangerous, never forget that. Today proves we need to stay alert. What I did is unheard of. I’ve drawn a huge target on my back and yours too by association. The dark mages will do whatever they can to make sure you don’t rise to power as easily as I did. They will not go down easy and they will kill you with no hesitation to get you out of the way if they think that’s easier.”
I already know all this. I knew it when I came back and saw how Quinn’s status had dramatically changed. I never want to see him not succeed, and truly, I’m happy for him. I really am, but now he’s made things so much harder for me. I have no clue who’s in the top spot, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s Zion Hawthorne, along with the other heirs I know are here. I need to do my research. Learn all that I can. I won’t be climbing up the ladder with rumors and staging a coup like Quinn did. I’ll have to earn my spot the hard way. The old fashioned way. Soon, my hands will be dripping in blood.
“I’m sorry,” he says, reading my face. Of course he knows what I’m thinking. With him, I wear my emotions on my sleeve.
“It’s not your fault. It was bound to happen,” I reassure him. I don’t need my big brother of three whole days feeling sorry for me.
“I can help you, you know. Until you make a name for yourself, I’ll protect you.”
I laugh at that. A dark laugh that should send chills through his spine, but he’s a psycho and we’re way too much alike. “You can’t protect me anymore, Quinn. That ship sailed when our parents sent us here. We’re on two different campuses. My first day was already hard and only proved how you can’t help me. If I want to survive, I’ll have to help myself.”
“Have you considered staying out of the running? I’m sure our parents will still be happy if you survive and gradu-”
Holding my hand up, I interrupt him and growl, “Don’t even finish that thought. I will not give Leslie the satisfaction of seeing me fail. And to not even try? I can’t believe you’d suggest such a thing. Don’t you have any faith in me, brother? You weren’t the only one who killed tonight and I believe my kill count is one person higher than yours.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just hard seeing you not as my little sister anymore.” He sounds sincere, so I know he means it. He’s spent his whole life protecting me. Taking it upon himself to be my knight, but the thing is, I’m no princess. In this fairytale, I’m the villain.
“I love you, Quinny,” I choke through my emotions, giving him my childhood nickname for him.
“I love you too, angel pie.”
When we finish up at the diner, Quinn insists I stay in his room tonight. It was late and I couldn’t argue with his logic that walking back to my campus in the dark was not the brightest of ideas, given the situation. But even in the safety of my brother’s arms, I couldn’t sleep a wink. My mind kept wandering back to all the things I have to do. I need to establish myself, but how? First, I need to make myself knowledgeable. No one gets anywhere through ignorance. Ignorance isn’t bliss, it’s just stupid. You’re stupidly in the dark, hiding under the covers when the monsters crawl from up under your bed and snatch you up. Zion Hawthorne is a monster and so is Kirito Choi. No matter how pretty they are, they have just the tools at their disposal to ruin you. Just look at my brother. Monsters can be beautiful too. Maybe that’s why in fairytales they are always ugly or have some unappealing trait about them. Disney doesn’t want
you to know that those most beautiful and alluring characters are the ones you should truly fear. They are the ones that’ll easily lure you out in the open and leave you to your fate. The witch may be the one who owns the delicious house made of candy, but it’s a Goddess that shoves you in the oven.
When the first rays of light leak through the window, I sit up and stretch. I’m wearing one of Quinn’s t-shirts and it rises up my thigh. My movement must have woken him when his hand shoots out and squeezes my bare thigh.
“I’m not used to girls sneaking out of my bed. They are usually clinging onto me for a repeat performance,” he mumbles in an adorable sleepy voice.
“I’m your sister, not some chick you sweet talked into your bed,” I remind him. When he tries to pull me back under the covers, I squeal pushing him away. “Quinn, you fucker, let me go.”
“Come on, angel pie, it’s too early to be up,” he whines, sounding like an overgrown child. And to think, he killed someone last night.
“For you maybe. I got a lot of shit to do before first period.”
“Like what?” he asks confused.
Sitting up, the sheet falls, revealing his taut chest. He’s wider and packed with more muscles since the last time I paid attention to his body. His whole right shoulder to the pec of his chest on the right side is a tattoo of the Joker. His present to himself when he earned his chosen card. On both wrists, like shackles, are golden crowns with the words ‘slave to the empire’ written in Latin. Completely covering his back is a giant skull wearing a jester hat with my name centered on the mandible. Leslie shit bricks when he got it done, but what could she do? Get it magically removed? Good luck getting him to do that. Because this is Quinn, and he doesn’t give a flying fuck what anyone has to say. He even has his balls tattooed to look like jingle bells and his cock is pierced. I only know because he made me go with him when he got it done. He said it hurt like a bitch, but well worth it if I ever want to get my clit done. To each their own, I guess. Both my nipples are pierced as well as my belly button, and I do have a nose ring and gages, but that’s the extent of my freedom of expression. I have no chosen card yet, so until then, I refused to get tatted. I haven’t earned one yet and none of my lady bits down there needs to be pierced with a bell strung through it.
“Have you forgotten? I have research to do.” He frowns, having not forgotten. He knows it has to happen, but he’s not completely okay with it.
Standing, I see he has on a pair of tight boxer briefs and I turn away from his morning wood. I was asleep by the time he came back from washing Cayden’s blood off in the shower, so I didn’t see what he went to bed in or I would have told him to put some sleep pants on.
“Before you go, let me get someone to walk you back,” he replies, putting on a pair of sweatpants he pulled out of a drawer.
“We’ve already been over this. You can’t protect me. I don’t need a babysitter to walk me home like a child.” He gives me that patronizing look I hate. Maybe I should put on something more than a t-shirt for him to take me seriously. I keep his shirt on, but wiggle into my shorts and grab my jacket. Someone was nice enough to collect my voodoo gear that was taken away and I grab the bag they put them in. The whole time, he’s been simmering there, watching me gather my things, not moving an inch. Did I break him?
Suddenly, he jumps up and yells, “Fuck that,” like he’s been rebooted and the screen just clicked on. “I may not be able to protect you while you’re over there, but here I can. You’re a dark mage and my sister. Target, remember?” He spins me and uses his finger to draw a circle on my back. “These vultures will come after you with everything they have if they see you alone. They will use you to hurt me. Just like Cayden tried to do last night. Do you get what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, I get you, even without the visual,” I grumble. Fuck! When did our lives get so damn complicated? Oh yeah, when we came here. Thanks for nothing, Leslie. Satisfied that he’s driven his point in, he leaves and comes back minutes later with that giant he was yelling at last night. Fucking Goliath.
“This is Marcel. Everytime you’re here alone, he’ll be by your side,” Quinn states with finality.
“So, you’re issuing out bodyguards now?” I hiss.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” His declaration leaves no room for argument nor would I try when he’s like this. Turning to Goliath, ‘cause lets face it, that name is more fitting than Marcel, he snarls, “If anything happens to her, I’ll have your balls.” Wow, not even a day into the role and my brother already sounds like a mob boss.
I leave with Goliath without a goodbye to Quinn so he’s clear I’m not happy about this. I know I’m overreacting, but it’s programmed in me to be defensive. A defense mechanism from growing up in a household full of people who hate you.
It’s still early, but out in the corridors, there are quite a few early risers and they watch me like a hawk eyeing a mouse with hunger in their eyes. Good mages indeed. They might as well lump us all together. From what I’ve seen so far, their arrows are not exactly pointing true. When we pass a group of girls having tea in the common room on the bottom floor, a pretty redhead with bright green eyes that reminds me of Mr. Meows’ hisses, “Brother fucker,” and the three girls with her giggle like it’s the funniest thing they ever heard. Fucking children.
“Ignore them, they’re just jealous,” Goliath says beside me. He has a point, but I stop anyway. If I walk passed, two things can happen. Everyone will think she’s so insignificant to me that I couldn’t care less what she says or I’m too weak to defend myself, even in my brother’s domain. The majority will go with the latter and I can’t have that.
I stop and stare the pretty redhead down as I walk over to her little gathering with a wide smile of my face. A terrifying smile worthy of the Joker. “Excuse me. I must have heard you wrong. Did you just call me a ‘brother fucker’?”
The girl, not believing I stopped, shifts uncomfortably. The girls she’s with as well as the people gathered in the room are so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. They want to be entertained. This place feeds off the violence and here we are, about to give them an early morning treat. To save face, the redhead boldly answers, “I did. What of it? It’s the truth, isn’t it? Why else would you be leaving his room, doing the walk of shame at this early hour?”
“Huh, interesting. I’m sure if my brother heard you say that, he’d paint these walls with your blood. Me though? Well, I’m a little more subtle than that,” I reply slowly, stalking her with my eyes. I kick the coffee table and their little tea set crashes and breaks on the floor, spilling the brown liquid like blood. A residue of leftover adrenaline from last night travels through my veins as I ready myself for a fight. The girl stands. She’s furious and stomps over, in my face. It’s almost comical how her face is now the same shade as her hair. “I’m sorry. Did I ruin your little tea party?” I ask sweetly.
“Bitch,” she insults, slapping me in the face and I fold over, but not from pain. Instead, I laugh this insane laugh, thoroughly amused by her boldness. By the time I get my act together, my eyes glow as my power surges through me. A purple and blue haze surrounds me and wisely, the stupid cunt takes a step back, realizing too late she may have bitten off more than she can chew.
Quicker than humanly possible, I’m behind her, and I wrap my arms around her neck, cutting off her air. She struggles but it’s futile and her friends... What friends? They look on with greedy eyes full of amusement. They’re thrilled over the violence. Everyone here is. Like I did to the turtle that got flushed in the swamp, I lean closely and whisper in her ear, “You’re lucky I’m in a rush, but later, I’ll find you and sew your foul mouth shut.” Then I push her away, and she tumbles over the coffee table ass up, showing everyone her My Little Pony underwear. Good grief. You can’t play the part of the mean girl wearing panties like those. Take a page out of Regina George’s play book and remember, the sluttier the better. In the corner of my eye, I spot Quinn l
eaning casually in the doorway to the corridor with his arms folded over his chest and legs crossed at the ankles, and I give him a two finger salute that says ‘see, I can take care of myself’ as he rebuttals with a ‘we’ll see’ smile. Cocky fucker.
“Are you ready to go?” I ask Goliath, batting my eyelashes innocently.
“Is everyone in your family this violent?” he chuckles as we walk out into the cool air of the early dawn.
“Violent,” I scoff. “I thought I handled that quite nicely. I didn’t even spill a drop of blood.”
“This time,” he adds. Yes, this time. I don’t make promises I can’t keep. I will be cashing in my threat to sew her mouth shut soon.
Chapter 8
Angelica
Goliath is quiet as we walk across the lawn to the other campus. We’re not supposed to be treated differently, but metaphorically, I can see the divide in the grass as I step onto the dark side. There’s this sense of violence in the air far different than with the light mages. Light mages are all about gain and how they can use someone. I have little experience with dark mages, but from what I saw so far, by any means necessary means they’ll take what they want rather than waste the time tricking someone out of it. What’s a little murder here and there if you accomplish your agenda? Quinn played games to get to his position. Sure he had to kill someone, putting his money where his mouth is, but if he weren’t able to play the rumor mill, he wouldn’t be where he’s at now. My approach has to be different. Every threat has to be carried out or I’ll look weak.
I wave goodbye to Goliath then walk briskly to my dorm. Some mages are up, but not as many as the light mages. I guess dark mages never heard the saying ‘the early bird gets the worm’.
As soon as I walk into my room, I regret not warding it properly and spending the night in Quinn’s room. My room is trashed. My clothes are thrown all over the floor, some ripped, others with questionable substances spilled on them. The sheets on my bed are ripped and torn like Mr. Meow had a free-for-all. Speaking of which, the cat comes out from under the bed with a loud pitiful meow. Where were you when they were doing all this? I ask him. Tilting his head like Quinn loves to do when he likes to scare the shit out of people, he meows again and I move my gaze to his eyes where he shows me a hazy picture of the culprits fucking up my room. A group of bitches I don’t even know. Why is the picture so fuzzy? Were you in here getting high on catnip while they trashed my room? I ask incredulously. He gives me a look that says it all and I sigh loudly. I’m lucky he was able to get this much. He must have been in his cat tree when they were destroying my shit because it has been left untouched as well as his bowl of water and litter box. I’m glad the proper respect for mage’s familiars extends even here and thankful to not have to pick up cat poo.
