CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I wake in a blissful bubble of emotion—one I have created with a certain Damien Darkwood. He sits on a chair beside the bed, naked, one leg folded over the other. He smiles. “There you are.”
I pull my hair over my face. “Please, I look horrible when I wake up.”
“I would beg to differ.”
I lift a curtain of hair, watching him with one eye. “Did that really happen last night? The clones?”
He nods slowly. “I’ve done my best to treat you. I used Curatio Tactus, Somnus Profundus, amongst others, but I’m afraid you will still be rather sore today.”
I stretch to test this theory, and while improved, Darkwood is right: I’m going to spend today walking ’round like a wooden block.
“And your power?” he queries.
I close my eyes and breathe in to find the shadows. They’re deep, but they’re there. “I’m not sure.”
“In time,” he says, standing and extending his hand. “I’m afraid I have class soon, but come, let us bathe together.”
I wince as I throw off the covers, extending my hand to meet his and letting him help me to rather unsteady feet. I fall against him, one hand flat against the marble of his chest where his heart beats hard and firm.
He takes my hand and kisses it lightly, eyes closing as he breathes in. “And to think I never thought I’d find such perfection.”
Perfection?
I’m far, far from that.
I came to Lumina out of necessity. Falling for a creature like this was never part of the plan, especially one twice my age—a man so powerful he can strip the flesh from my bones with a single whisper.
But is it love or something else? Something darker. Is it Stockholm Syndrome, that I am so damaged and fundamentally broken I have fallen for my captor?
Just look at what you let him do to you. He’s taken every hole you have and more. He’s killing you.
‘Let him’? That’s a stretch, but these moments of tenderness don’t stack well against the mountain of torment he’s put me through using the guise of what? Making me powerful? Preparing me for some as yet unseen plan of his?
Mortis is out there right now. My friends could be in danger, and what am I doing?
“Hmm,” he murmurs, and I’ve completely forgotten he’s inside my head. “Curious thoughts, my pet.” He lifts my chin. “Have I developed feelings for you? Of course, and they come with their own complications, but you must know there is purpose here in what we do. We can defeat Mortis, but it requires everything. Do you understand me?”
I nod.
“Come,” he says, “and think on it no longer. Tranquillitas Mentis.”
Mind black, I follow him to the bathroom.
*
Entering the common room, I realize I need to stop being so transparent. I’m wearing a smile wider than the Brooklyn Bridge. Tranquillitas Mentis might be wearing off, the aches and pains returning, but bathing with the Professor this morning was something—and that something didn’t involve wild sex or clones or petrification. No, it was me, lying against him in the water, no words spoken, nothing sexual about it. Only a warm blanket of satisfaction enveloping me. Us.
Only relief.
Lily and Ava are already there, but I’m not greeted by enthusiasm when I take a seat by the fire. “What?” I ask, quickly double-checking to make sure I’m wearing actual clothes.
Lily shakes her head. “Fucking hell, Ana? Where have you been?”
My chest starts to tighten. “Why?”
No one speaks up.
I look to Ava. “Is someone going to fill me in here?”
Ava’s picking at her fingernails. “They found Professor Kirkland this morning, or what was left of her. Someone had stuffed her into that silly suitcase she carries around.”
I lean back. “Shit.”
“The official line,” Ava goes on, “is that she quit, flew out, but everyone knows what really happened. Even the faculty here aren’t safe now.”
I look to the fire, but even that seems to be suffocating. “All the more reason we keep training. If we’re prepared—”
“What?” Lily snaps, surprisingly angry. “Kirkland was Academy Ward Master. She specialized in magical defense, and she still got fucking murdered. What hope does that leave for any of us?”
I can hear the defeat in her voice, but I don’t believe we’re powerless here. Maybe it’s this morning, spending time with Damien, but I don’t feel weak or vulnerable today. I feel I could take on the fucking world.
Lily’s not done. “And where have you been disappearing to, by the way, because don’t think we haven’t noticed you slipping out at night. We had an agreement, remember? We stay together.”
“I know,” I start, “but—”
“It’s him,” Lily says, levelling a finger at me, “fucking Darkwood, isn’t it? What’s he told you? You’ll be gifted with unlimited power if you let him fuck your brains out?”
I swallow hard, extending my hands. “It’s not like that. We…” But there’s no good way to finish this sentence other than to say ‘he promises me unlimited power if I let him fuck my brains out.’
“We told you he was dangerous,” Ava says, the two of them ganging up on me.
I stand up, annoyed. “Fuck. Fine. I get it, but I’m a big girl. I can handle myself, and so what if we’re,” I can’t even say the word.
“Fucking?” Lily offers with a raised eyebrow.
“Together,” I correct. “At least I’m safe with him.”
The two of them return to their gloomy staring-into-the-void selves and I can’t take another stupid second of this. “I’m going to the bathroom,” I announce. “Alone.”
There, I stand in front of the mirror and stare at myself, at the na?ve girl in the glass. No grand insight comes from such introspection apart from the fact I look like I spent the night going toe-to-toe with Mike Tyson.
“What are you doing?” I ask myself.
“Good fucking question.”
I turn to find Cassandra standing there. She lifts her hand, the door to the bathroom whipping shut and locking.
She smiles. “Just you and me, girlfriend.” She taps her head. “And I’ve used a little mental blocker to keep You Know Who from working out what’s going on here. Took me a while to find.”
I turn slowly from the mirror to face her in full, my fists starting to clench. “And what is going on here, do tell? Because I don’t know if you noticed, but there’s kind of a murderer on the loose.”
She lifts her hands, lips moving and her first spell blasting past me. It’s just a bit of icy wind and small shards of ice exactly like my little hallucination, but I throw a shield up anyhow. Her spell smashes into it, waves of white-and-blue energy shooting up and down the shield before dissipating near the edges with a light buzzing sound.
“Fuck. You!”
Another blast tosses me back, threatening to destroy my balance. I stagger backwards but remain on my feet. I snarl and keep my arms up, twisting my palms around to face her. A grunt leaves me as I retaliate with two fireballs.
“Shit,” I mutter, noticing the futility of my endeavor. She waves her hands right and left, and they pan away into the stalls and mirrors, fizzling out.
“My baby sister could do better than that. Now stand still while I freeze your stupid, bitchy face off.”
“Darkwood will come for you,” I warn.
“Let him,” she laughs. “Everyone knows I’m a better lay than you could ever be.”
She’s even more fucked up than I am.
I don’t have time to think before the shadows have pulled inside me. With a single word of power, I summon a spear of black lightning, forcing my hands forward into a vee with such speed Cassandra only just manages to side-step the mass of energy that blows the door behind her clear off its hinges.
A crowd, including Ava and Lily, gather there, looking in.
But my hands are already moving.
She’s not so lucky with the second blast.
The bolt strikes her right in the chest, arcs of black energy webbing off into the walls as she’s sent flying backwards. A cry of agony leaves her as she’s pinned against the wall, the hollow thud of her head hitting the stone ringing out before she slumps to the floor.
Ava rushes in with hands raised, crouching down beside her. She puts her hand up to me. “Ana! Stop.”
I almost let rip again before reining in the shadows and finally getting control.
Those at the door are staring at me with mouths agape.
Cassandra groans, threads of wisping smoke rising from her singed shirt. Her eyes slowly turn towards me. “Craft?” she chokes, lifting a finger in accusation towards me. “Dark…magic,” she pants.
“What have you done?” Ava asks me.
‘Stood my ground’ would be the obvious answer, but the way this looks…I’ve gone too far. All I see are frightened faces.
Some shake their heads, others moving in to help Cassandra.
Lily’s staring at me from the doorway like I’m a complete stranger.
“I didn’t mean to,” I start to stutter.
Cassandra keeps her finger raised at me, voice croaky. “Dark…magic,” she repeats, coughing.
“I didn’t…I don’t…”
I have no idea what to say.
I rush past her, rush back all the way to the safety of my room.