CHAPTER TWELVE
I rush to my room, a close call with a couple of students up to no good by the central spiral staircase that runs through the center of the Academy that forces me to crouch in a small alcove as they pass.
Can’t say I’m particularly keen to come across the murderer either. The last thing I want is for the entire student population to be ogling my naked corpse come morning.
I’m thankful for the candlelight at least.
I come to the final hallway before my own, come around the corner…and almost crash right into him.
‘Him’ being a pale, blond-haired boy in boxers and a white tee—a walking Ralph Lauren ad. He’s surprisingly clean cut for this hour.
He raises his hands as I pull up in front of him, bent in the middle, doing my best to cover myself.
He looks me over, a wicked smile cutting across his face. “Well, what do we have here?”
Again, bless the candlelight for not letting him see how mortified I am. Most of my figure is still in the cover of darkness, what little light there is reaching just below my shoulders. “Can I just get past?”
But he’s blocking the hallway.
He extends his hand, his smile narrowing. “Leo Wraithwood. And you are?”
I go to shake his hand, briefly removing it from my sex before thinking better and bringing it back into place.
He laughs, shaking his head in amusement. “It was worth a shot.” He drops his hand, his eyes falling to where I’m cupping myself. “If the answer to ‘Where are you going?’ is ‘my room,’ I’m happy to lead the way.”
Vom.
“No, thanks. I just really need to get back to my room.”
He seems to sum this up for a moment, eyes searching every inch of me before he steps aside. “Sure.”
I rush past him, and I just know he’s standing there gawking at my ass.
But fuck it.
I make it to my room, fumbling the key I’m so desperate to get inside.
When I do, when the door’s closed and I’m alone, I feel it again—the shadows, far more present now. They mix with the fear and the embarrassment, the pleasure and the sheer insanity of this all.
And I’ve never felt more alive.
*
I wake feeling more like myself, though there is a lingering ‘something’ there, and not the soft ache between my thighs or the echo of the whip’s kiss. I reach down and insert an experimental finger into myself, expecting the worst, but no. The tip meets a familiar resistance. Everything is as it should be. I’m still a virgin, even if what transpired with the Professor seemed anything but.
And then bumping into that stupid boy.
Fuck my life. I’ll be the talk of the Academy.
But chatter is noticeably absent when I enter the dining hall for breakfast. No one is watching me—well, more than usual—or whispering while I walk. Even Lily is oblivious to any midnight nudie runs.
She’s holding up a croissant to her face, inspecting it. “What’s the spell to make things taste better again?”
“There’s a spell for that?” I ask, curious. “Like, a salt bae spell?”
Both Lily and Ava laugh—quite rare for the latter, whose face always seems to be stuck in RBF mode.
Lily drops her croissant. “A salt bae spell. That’s fucking gold. It’s possible. There are all kinds of weird spells if you know where to look.”
You can say that again.
I think back to Darkwood, crossing my legs under the table. I look to my plate—a single slice of buttered toast. Hardly the breakfast of champions, but I’ve never been big on eating in general. Didn’t stop Gran filling my plate every meal.
“What do you have first?” Lily asks.
I picture my timetable. “Ah, Metamagic, or was it Temporal Magic?”
Lily yawns. “Both bullshit, airy-fairy subjects. Like Metamagic? Seriously. That ain’t fundamental.”
“It’s a growing discipline,” Ava adds. “I find it beneficial.”
“The only thing you need to find,” Lily goes on, “is a nice hard dick to get you out of this constant doom and gloom. Like, seriously, when was the last time you had a good dicking?”
I almost eject my OJ over the table. “What?”
Ava rolls her eyes. “Please, who says I don’t get any?”
“Ah, maybe that cobweb factory called your vagina,” Lily goes on.
And for the first time I see Ava actually smile. “Touché.”
Someone slams into my shoulder, shoving me forward against the table and almost knocking the OJ clear from my hand.
“Shit, watch where you’re going, Cassandra.” Lily drawls.
I turn and find a tall, elegant girl standing there with silver-blonde hair and ice-blue eyes. “So sorry,” she says, smiling at me. “I can be so clumsy.” She drifts away.
Not this shit again.
“Who was that?” I ask.
“Cassandra Thornwood,” Ava informs. “She comes from a fairly well-known Society family, read: filthy rich. Loved by all, but mostly the guys—"
“She’s fucking Glinda the Good,” Lily finishes, “though swap the ‘good’ for ‘fucking bitch,’ and you’d be closer.”
I reach up to my hair. “Does that make me Elphaba?”
Lily raises an eyebrow. “Answer me this, are you green, Ana? Like, are you actually Shrek?”
“Not last time I checked.”
“Then no,” Lily smiles, “you are not, but you are in her crosshairs for whatever reason, and trust me, that’s not a good place to be.”
*
It’s a long day. There’s no Black Arts class, no Professor or private lesson tonight. I don’t see him in the halls—only in my mind, those bottle-green eyes taking in every inch of me, every detail as I unraveled before him.
It’s the common area where I first get my true taste of Cassandra the Fucking Bitch.
Newly discovered, the common area is set across two levels, a mezzanine with a shelf of books. There’s even a coffee machine. The lower level is a lounge of sorts with the kind of cozy old castle chairs you could happily sink into and churn through half a novel, which is precisely what I intend to do to take my mind off a certain dark professor.
That’s until this Cassandra arrives.
She glides into the common area, that silver-blonde hair swaying behind her like a cloud, icy gaze scanning the space. When she spots me curled up in an armchair by the fireplace, a smirk tugs at her lips.
My fingers tighten around Gran’s grimoire in my lap.
I’ll pound this bitch to death with it if I have to.
I don’t know what her problem is with me, but I won't give her the satisfaction of a reaction. I have better things to do.
"My, my." Her melodic, sing-song voice cuts through the silence. "So the imposter thinks she can learn real magic."
Hard cringe.
Here we go.
But like prison, you can’t show weakness lest you spend the next three years tugging on someone’s pocket.
I slam the grimoire shut and hold a hand up. “Look, Cassandra, is it? I don’t know what your deal is, or why you’re taking it out on me, but can we, like, just not do this, skip past the whole ‘you’re new and I’m the mean girl’ thing? We’re all adults here, right?”
“It’s got nothing to do with the fact you’re new,” she says, voice light and easy. “It’s that you simply don’t belong.”
Fuck this. If she wants to play, I’ll bite. This isn’t high school.
I place the grimoire down and get to my feet because yeah, screw this bitch. I don’t know anything about her, of course, but I take a stab all the same. “I hear you rely on your family name to mask your inadequacies."
I’m thinking that might be too intellectual for her, but she seems to understand well enough.
She glares at me, her eyes dagger sharp. Even in the dim light, that Elsa ice-fortress hair glows like spun moonlight as she tosses her head in challenge.
My fingers curl into fists, nails biting into my palms. I’ve dealt with girls like this my entire life. Nine times out of ten they kicked my ass, yes, but it didn’t stop me trying to fight back.
I stride to the center of the room to meet her, my boots thudding against the stone floor. “Care for a little friendly competition, Thornwood?” My voice comes out harsh and jagged.
Cassandra’s lips curl into a sneer. “Please. Don’t embarrass yourself.” She joins me, the skirts of her dress swirling around her legs. “But okay, I’ll humor you, lowborn slut, because you are, aren’t you? Lowborn inanis. Rumor is you were getting evicted before you showed up here to suck dick.”
This is pretty juvenile, sure, but something about it gets right under my skin. I’m not just going to stand here and ignore it.
Rage boils in my veins, scalding and venomous, spurring me on.
And how does she know about the eviction? I don’t have time to speculate. It’s time for action.
Time for practice.
“Enough talk.” I raise my hands, gathering my power.
This is fucking madness. I’ve only really read of magical duels. Like most things in my life, it’s all theoretical, but I feel more confident today, more reckless.
Others get up from their seats and make for the perimeter of the room.
The air around us builds with energy as Cassandra channels.
Her first spell shoots toward me, a blast of frozen wind and shards of glass. I throw my hands up and erect an energy shield, Scutum Protegens, deflecting the spell, but the force of it rocks me back a step. Gritting my teeth, I hurl a fireball at her in retaliation with a grunt, my spellcasting not exactly perfect, but it will have to do.
Cassandra extinguishes the flames with a contemptuous wave of her hand. “Jesus, is that the best you can do?” she scoffs. “No wonder you’re still a virgin.”
I shouldn’t let this kind of silly, middle school shit get under my skin, because that’s precisely what it is, but it doesn’t stop me seeing red.
Blood pounding in my temples, I scream a word of power, Aramaic and ancient, summoning a spear of black lightning. She jumps to the left, the spell smashing down beside her feet where it leaves a smoking furrow in the stone floor.
She gasps, eyes widening. For a moment, fear flickers in their depths before rage takes over. “Dark magic? Seriously?” Cassandra hisses, cracking her knuckles. “I’m going to fuck you up.”
I bare my teeth in a feral grin, gathering shadows around me like a cloak. “Jealous?” I taunt, reveling in the uncertainty she can no longer hide. “Or perhaps you’re afraid of what I can do. You know, being a lowborn slut and all.”
Another blast of magic bursts from Cassandra’s hands, Telum Proiiciens, but she fucks up the pronunciation and I deflect it with ease. She tries again and again, each spell weaker than the last, while I stalk closer with predatory grace.
The shadows, whatever they are inside me, pull together and buoy my power.
Cassandra shrieks in rage as her last spell backfires in a burst of amethyst flame, singeing her perfect blonde locks. She’s blasted back, her knees buckling. Staggering, she throws her arms out to the side to preserve her balance.
I spot the boy from last night, Leo, over to the side. He’s smirking, clearly enjoying the show but, like everyone else, doing his best to keep his distance.
I gather my magic and hurl a writhing coil of shadow at Cassandra. She manages to deflect it with a—much smaller—shield in front of her face, but not before it leaves an angry red welt across her cheek. Starting just over her jawline, it reaches all the way up to the bridge of her nose.
"Bitch!" She spits a curse at me, eyes blazing with hatred. Before she can retaliate, though, Leo casts a binding spell, shackling her hands behind her back.
"Temper, temper," he tuts, slowly stepping out into the center of the room. "And such unladylike language."
I almost shout at him to move the fuck away, but even in these passing seconds my rage is starting to simmer and dissipate.
Cassandra strains against the magical bonds, venom dripping from every snarled word as she tries to break free. "You better release me at once, Leo, or I'll…I’ll—” She stutters, unable to finish the thought.
Finally, I come to a stop a mere inch from her, shadows writhing and whispering around us. Cassandra shrinks back against the wall, chest heaving with panicked breaths. The rage in her eyes shifts into pure, unfiltered fear, like I could just reach inside her chest and rip her heart right on out, drop it in front of her feet like a bloody bird.
I place a hand on her cheek, running my thumb across her jawline and actually kind of surprised by how supple her skin is. I might even ask for her skincare routine if I wasn’t about to cut her in two. “Had enough?”
Cassandra whimpers but remains silent.
Good.
And the virgin thing? I don’t know if that was a stab in the dark or somehow everyone knows everything about me here, but it’s pissing me off all the same.
“Maybe you should stop now.”
Some girl says this over in the corner.
“Shut the fuck up,” says Leo, watching on.
I take in Cassandra's trembling form, lingering on the rapid rise and fall of her chest. There’s a headiness in victory.
"On your knees," I command softly.
Cassandra hesitates for a split second before sinking to her knees and lowering her head.
The shadows shift and pull again inside me.
I release a pleased hum, combing my fingers through her silvery blonde hair in a mockery of a lover's caress. I get the appeal this has on Damien. I understand at least some of the pleasure he gets from keeping me submissive. It’s just a taste, yes, but it’s enough.
"That's a good girl," I croon. "Now, open your mouth."
Another protest from the girl in the corner, but it’s weaker.
Cassandra lifts her head and parts her lips. A flush stains her pale cheeks, but she remains silent and unresisting. As for her earlier defiance? It’s evaporated completely.
Triumph and lust roar through me, a raging inferno that demands to be sated, the shadows working themselves in lieu of the blood to follow. I fist my hand in Cassandra's hair, dragging her forward until I feel the heat of her breath against my—
"Enough."
That single, sharp word cuts through my haze of desire. I blink, disoriented, and find myself staring at an empty stretch of wall.
Cassandra has vanished. Leo has vanished, the other students… The entire fucking room has gone.
I have no idea where I’m standing now, only that it’s small and enclosed, but a door to my right is open, so there’s that.
I’m sure I’ll turn around the find Darkwood assessing me, that crooked smile cutting across his mouth, but no, I’m alone.
I bring my hands to my head, elbows pointing outward.
All that was…nothing?
You’re losing it, I tell myself. Get a grip.
But did I really believe that was happening? That I’d be like ‘Oh, magical duel? Sign me up!’
Those girls in high school? They beat the shit out of me on the regular. I’ve got a false tooth to prove it.
It’s not like I arrived here at Lumina, memorized a couple of spells and suddenly I’m Morgana Le Fay—all powerful.
I leave and pad down the corridor, irritation in my veins.
It appears I’m somewhere on the other side of the castle.
"Rough day?" A familiar voice interrupts my brooding. I glance up to find Leo leaning back against the wall, a sympathetic smile playing about his lips.
"You could say that," I mutter.
“You found your clothes, I see.”
I ignore that, looking to keep walking. I’m not in the mood for conversation.
"I saw what happened back there." He pushes off from the wall and falls into step beside me.
“What do you mean?” The curiosity sends my voice up an octave.
“I mean I can’t understand why one minute you’re sitting in the common room and the next you’re fighting thin air. Before you rushed out and all.”
So I’m not going completely crazy then.
“I heard Darkwood just now.”
I come to an abrupt halt. “You did?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow.
“Didn’t sound terribly pleased with whatever it was you were doing down here.”
I shrug, feigning nonchalance and trying my best not to betray my tension. "He'll get over it."
"Oh, I don't doubt that." Leo's grin turns wicked. "In fact, I'd wager he rather enjoyed it. Our dear professor does have a taste for the theatrical, after all."
"Is that so?"
"Absolutely. All that repressed pain and darkness? He loves fucking with everyone’s heads around here. Real psyops shit.”
I ought to tell Leo to mind his own business—and yet, I find myself weirdly captivated by the teasing lilt of his voice. Not that I’d go there. No, no, no. ‘Arrogant preteen’ isn’t my type.
“And don’t worry, Annabelle,” he continues, “I won’t tell a soul about what I witnessed just now, or last night. Can’t have everyone thinking the new girl has gone insane already, can we?"
“No, and it’s Ana," I correct him.
"Ana," he repeats, rolling the word over his tongue like a taste to be savored. “Got to say, I can’t wait to see what you come up with next.”
“You and me both, but you’re serious? You won’t tell anyone?”
He brings his finger to his lips and runs it sideways, like he’s zippering them closed. “I believe we have an accord, Ana.”
"So it would seem."
“And should you ever be looking for alliance, or anything else, you know where to find me.”
Not quite as repulsive as his original come-on, but still distasteful all the same.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” I fake-smile, easing past him and quick-stepping down the hall before anyone else decides to pop out on me tonight.
I am kind of annoyed the whole magic duel was in my head, though. I kind of liked being a badass for once.
There is the question of why Leo came to my aid in my dream, or illusion, or whatever the fuck it was. And then the conversation now… Is he trying to build an alliance or just get into my pants?
A piercing scream rings out.
I try to place it, but the way noise travels in here, echoing off all the hard surfaces, makes it hard to pinpoint.
Another scream, this one cut off.
Wherever it’s coming from, maybe best practice is to get the fuck out of here and back to the somewhat safe haven of my room.
A jog turns into a run, my boots hitting the floor harder. I turn right first, and then left, taking stairs two at a time as yet another scream rings out, closer now.
Pick up the pace, Ana.
I come around the next corner and stop.
It’s déjà vu—a cluster of students, someone lying on the floor, that same stench of metal in the air.
But I continue to move forward towards the gruesome spectacle out of some morbid curiosity, pulling up to join the ring of onlookers who watch on silently, whoever was screaming nowhere to be found.
I take in what’s before me. It’s a scrawny boy, half his head cleaved away as if by Umbraculum Dissencans, brain matter having slid out onto the floor. He’s lying face down, puncture wounds on his stomach and legs. They cover almost his entire chest, stopping just under his clavicle, which seems bent or broken and entirely unnatural. There’s a deep cut across his left palm.
The queasiness I felt staring at Stephanie’s body doesn’t rise, so maybe, like the others here, I am getting used to it.
“Dale?”
I turn and see a girl, a redhead, moving towards us, mouth dropping as he tries to get a better look at whoever’s on the floor.
“Dale?” she repeats, with more urgency now, starting to run.
A burly guy to my right manages to step out and catch her before she gets too close, because by the twisted curdle of her voice it’s clear she’s a friend, or a lover…someone close.
My stomach twists, the redhead falling to her knees in anguish, the burly guy going down with her.
The rest of us remain silent.
When I turn back a professor I don’t recognize has appeared, already starting to shoo people away.
And so it is Lumina, Academy of the Magical Arts becomes one student less.
Again.
Numb, nauseous, I make my way back to my room. Lily’s stepping out of her own room when she sees the look on my face. “What happened to you?”
“There’s been another one.”
She looks around, moving closer and lowering her voice. “Another…murder?”
I nod.
She shakes her head. “Fuck. That’s pretty close together, even for this place.”
Isadora Lumina’s voice booms over the PA. “Students are to gather immediately in the Grand Hall. I repeat, all students to gather immediately in the Grand Hall.”
“Shit’s getting serious,” says Lily, looping her arm in mine. “But come on, let’s go.”
We join a column of students making their way down the central staircase. Word hasn’t reached all of them it would seem, some of whom are laughing and jockeying about as if this is just another day.
Maybe it is. Maybe murder really is a part of life here.
I let Lily lead us into the hall. I haven’t been inside it, pleased to find it lives up to its name with impressively high, ribbed vaults and stained-glass windows to the left that filter in murky, bracken light from outside. Each window depicts various magical heroes. They’re all there: Seraphina, Magnus, Alaric…bedtime stories Gran used to tell me.
In her robes, the Headmistress steps up to a pulpit in the corner of the hall and claps her hands together, the sound echoing throughout the entire hall.
The students quiet, silence falling.
Ava sidles up next to us, mouthing ‘What happened?’ to Lily, who draws a finger across her throat in reply.
“Another?” Ava whispers, someone shushing her from behind.
“Thank you for coming,” the Headmistress says, her voice having taken on something of an epic overtone in this space. “As you may have heard by now, there’s been another incident in the castle.”
A ripple of conversation.
“But,” she says, louder, “I want to assure you, as Headmistress, we are doing everything in our power to ensure both your safety and the security of the castle. These incidents, rare as they are—”
A guy behind me sniggers.
“May be the work of an individual, or possibly rogue shadows,” the Headmistress goes on.
Now, this seems to cause a flurry amongst the gathered, forcing the Headmistress to clap her hands and call for quiet once more.
Rogue shadows? I’ve never heard of such a thing.
I see Darkwood emerge to the right of the pulpit in black robes. He’s looking right at me.
“Some,” says the Headmistress, “will question why a curfew is not in place, but I think we can all manage a certain degree of personal caution as we move around the castle. As such, the lockdown is lifted.”
Fucking lifted? Not that it really seemed strongly enforced, but all the same, how the hell does that make any sense?
“You may leave,” she finishes.
Lily looks to me, yawning. “And there you have it, though the rogue shadows…that’s new.”
New. Great. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about.