CHAPTER FOUR
I wake up groggy and disorientated, but there is no Wolf, no grand ball. There are no shadows stretching out in the corner of the room.
There’s still the Dior, though, puddled up on the floor, which seems kind of sad in a way.
I turn sideways, my eyes going wider.
Because it’s right there, the card.
Fresh as a fucking daisy.
I reach to my bedside and pick it up with uncertain fingers. It feels like it burns a hole in my hand as I stare at the paper, tracing the gold numbers with my finger. It’s in perfect condition.
Was he here? I think, fear starting to creep into my system. In the apartment?
There’s no other explanation.
I whip around expecting him to jump out of the closet, but no. It stays shut.
Lumina.
Fuck.
I know I shouldn't call. Everything about this screams ‘stay away from murderville.’ But God, the opportunity. All I’ve got here is a big, sploogy wad of nothingness.
My stomach clenches at the thought of another week surviving on crackers and tap water. Art school’s a no go with the loan officer trying to crawl up my ass. The eviction threat echoes in my head, a countdown to homelessness.
My debt? Job? What do I really have here besides Sab?
I grab my cell, heart pounding. What's the worst that could happen?
Ah, he could be a serial killer. You’ll end up chopped into little pieces and dumped into the Hudson.
Seemed like the type.
But no Lumina, no escape.
It’s a scam.
Has to be.
I swipe on up the screen of my cell. My thumb hovers over the keypad.
Or the Wolf could be my savior.
My lover, I consider.
My first.
Wishful thinking? Daydreaming? I don’t know. At any rate, this has to be a figment of my imagination. Even if he was a major figurehead at Lumina, the chances of him noticing me are slim. I come from no grand magical family, have no enclave or Society connections. To my knowledge, Gran was never part of anything.
Buy why am I thinking about this guy at all? He’s probably old enough to be my father.
Maybe he only represents the Academy? A third party. Surely. I should be thinking of that. I’ll probably never see the guy again.
I’m about to place the phone down when I swipe left and open my bank account.
I stare at the numbers on screen and feel sick. Only one-ninety left and a dozen bills to pay, the eviction officer's fifth email this week unread inside my inbox.
How did I get here? I pinch the bridge of my nose, a headache blossoming behind my eyes. I don’t want to go back to discover where I went wrong.
Everything was fine until Gran up and decided to drop dead on me, leave me with this bullshit.
A text pops up from Sabrina. Be over in ten. Need the Dior!
I’m still in bed when I hear the knock on the door ten minutes later.
I rise and pad through the apartment, checking the peephole to find a somehow beaming Sab waving.
She can’t hold her alcohol, sure, but she’s hangover-proof. Go figure.
I open the door and gesture her through.
She eyes me as she passes. “I see you’re dressed.”
I’m wearing a mismatching bra and panties, the latter inside out because hey, hard to see when you’re stumbling around in the dark. “The dress is on the back of my door.”
I hung up the Dior before she arrived. It was the least I could do.
I place my hand out, closing the door with the other. “Remember this?”
I walk over to the kitchen counter and pick up the card, handing it across to her.
She looks it over. “Shit, I forgot about this, and that guy…like come on, red flag city.” He’s a walking, talking restraining order.”
Lumina Academy of Magic.
The name whispers through my mind, stirring a flurry of questions I've grappled with my entire life.
Was I meant for something more?
Doubtful.
It’s not like I have a lightning bolt on my forehead.
Sab scans the card. "I mean, you’re not seriously considering calling this number, are you?”
"I don't know," I shrug. I twist a strand of my long black hair until it pulls at my scalp, a nervous habit I've never been able to break. "Do you know anything about Lumina, anything concrete you and your Society buddies talk about?"
"Only rumors." She sinks into Gran’s armchair in the corner of the living room, gazing into the distance. "I mean, they say it's one of the most prestigious magical academies in the world, shrouded in mystery, known for producing some of the most powerful witches and wizards of all time, but also some seriously fucking dark ones. I’ve heard it’s basically a magical concentration camp, a reeducation center, a big orgy where everyone runs around fucking demons… Who knows?"
A thrill of the forbidden courses through my veins. All my life I've taught myself magic in secret, afraid. But at an academy for magic…
I meet Sabrina’s eyes, barely daring to hope. "Maybe I should call. You know, for curiosity."
She takes my hands, giving them a gentle squeeze. Love and fear war in her expression, but after a long moment, she says, “Fuck no. Did I mention Shadowcraft?”
Shadowcraft. Here we go again. Gran only hinted at it, always yapping on about how it was too dangerous and seductive to explore. I have no doubt the missing pages in her grimoire pertained to it.
The thrill intensifies, settling low in my belly. I want to give into it, so what’s holding me back?
Have I been given an invitation or a temptation? Perhaps Lumina Academy will provide both.
But Sabrina, bless her socks, cannot know.
I take the card. “Yeah, you’re right. Totally.”
I remember the Wolf’s eyes boring into mine, the firmness of his grip on my arm, his breath hot against my ear.
I shudder, desire pooling low between my thighs. Last night he managed to pull off in seconds what my wannabe lovers have failed to do in years: fire that urge to have someone right then and there. And he barely touched me.
Who is he? How did he know?
I imagine his hands on my body, pushing me to the edge of control and beyond. My pussy pulses at the thought.
The risks are real. But so is the possibility of release. Of escape.
Of something I've only dreamed about.
Sabrina stands. “Anyhoo, I’ll grab the Dior and be off. Don’t want the label to find out it’s missing.”
“No,” I smile, “of course not, and thanks again, for letting me borrow it, or your friend—whatever.”
She pulls me in for a hug. “Anytime, superstar.”
I say goodbye and watch her from my window heading back down to her car, which is double-parked, of course. To even have a car in New York is insane.
An eerie silence fills the space. I reach down to the small table beside the armchair and pick up the card.
I know what Sab said, and she’s one-hundred percent right, but I can’t help it.
I reach for my phone, take a deep breath, and dial. Calling this number isn’t a choice. It’s the key to dodging the life of a hobo and whatever hell follows.
The line rings only once.
“You called.”
That voice…so smoky and sensual.
I clench my thighs hard, straining to keep the desire caged there and not spiraling through the rest of my body.
"I shouldn't have," I say. "This was a mistake."
"Was it?" A rustle of fabric. Is he…undressing?
I swallow hard. "I don't even know who you are, what this is all about."
"You know exactly who I am," he purrs. "Someone who is going to give you everything you crave, and more."
My cheeks flush. How does he know what I crave? It’s not like it’s scrawled all over my face.
You sure? I question.
"Just say yes and I’ll have a car sent to pick you up,” he continues. “It’s one simple word.”
Nothing simple about it.
Numerous thoughts clash in my head, illustrating the level of my confusion. Caution? Check. Fear? Check. Thrill? Check. Desire? Check. I open my lips, but I don’t know how I’m going to answer. Until a single syllable spills, triumphant.
“Yes,” I whisper.
I close my eyes, my cheeks burning. But there's an answering warmth between my legs I can't ignore. It’s new. Alien. It’s been with me for less than twenty-four hours, but I can’t pretend it’s not there.
“Good girl. There’s a car waiting outside.”
The fuck? He knew I’d say yes when he woke up this morning? How? Is he in my head?
It’s not unheard of in the magical world, though outlawed.
The line goes dead.
I stare at the phone. What have I done?
But I already know the answer. I've opened the door. There's no turning back now. I’m going to Lumina.
It could all be an elaborate trick, a trap, but at least it’s a direction, a course of action.
I’ve heard of scams like this before, na?ve witches, even witchlings, trafficked from house to house, forced to perform all manner of unspeakable acts. I thought that was limited to Eastern Europe, but it could happen here.
Or this could be my salvation.
All I know is I've stepped into unknown territory. A place of shadow and secrets.
Of sin, maybe sacrifice.
All I can do now is embrace it.