Chapter 41 Raven
Raven
Rain hammered the library’s windowpanes as I stared listlessly at my potions textbook. We were about to start a module on healing potions in Miss Windborne’s class, and I wanted to read ahead. Only I couldn’t concentrate.
Three days had passed since the disastrous flag exercise in the forest. Montgomery had locked down the campus after the wolves found Demelza’s body at the foot of a blackened pine tree.
The official cause of death was a lightning strike, but in the absence of hard facts, the rumor mill was in overdrive. From what Glynda had overheard, Demented’s friends believed a demon had killed her and the headmaster was trying to cover it up.
I didn’t give a flying pig what anyone thought as long as nobody tried to pin it on me.
The only silver lining was Lightfoot had been kicked off campus for gross incompetence.
The shifter bitches were now in mourning over his departure, while the rest of us, specifically all the females he’d sexually harassed, were relieved we no longer had to worry about him bursting in while we showered after PT.
I doodled a flower in the margin of my notepad. A black flower with vicious thorns. Next I added some dripping blood for dramatic effect. And a skull.
Damn, it was pretty good. Maybe I should have the design tattooed on my back. It would make me look badass, like a human biker chick.
My thoughts turned to Maverick. My bear still wasn’t back, and despite my asking Zane a million times, I had no clue when he would be.
I knew he was alive, at least. If I nudged him down the bond, I felt him nudge me back. Barely a tickle, but it was proof of life.
Why wasn’t he back?
When he went off on secret missions to deal with feral shifters, he usually returned within a day. Zane had said this trip was family-related, but when his uncle died, he was still back after two days.
Maverick’s absence worried me. I hated knowing I couldn’t snuggle in his arms and make him feel better.
A pair of witches sitting at a nearby table whispered to each other while giggling. I caught one of them staring at me before she said something to her friend. Then they both giggled again.
Ugh.
Demelza’s tragic death (RIP bitch) hadn’t stopped the bullying. If anything, the witches had ramped up their campaign of abuse against me. It seemed as if my finding more than one soul-bonded mate, and from different species, had mortally offended them.
I stood to stretch my legs and search for a second textbook. As I wandered past the two witches, one of them cast water magic at me, soaking me from head to toe. Water dripped off my nose and onto the scuffed stone floor.
“Thanks!” I smiled at them. “It’s kind of stuffy in here. I feel so much fresher now.” Without waiting for them to respond, I strode off into the stacks.
“There’s something wrong with her.”
“Yeah, she’s fucked in the head. Must be from fucking the incubus. I hear insanity is catching.”
My shoulders slumped in relief at the scrape of chairs and footsteps moving away. Taunting someone who didn’t react must not have been entertaining enough.
I’d lied about the library being stuffy. Away from the massive fireplace near the reception desk, my breath misted in the air every time I exhaled. Cold drafts seeped through the old window frames, making me shiver in my wet shirt.
Fucking witches.
My teeth chattered loud enough to wake a demon as I scanned the nearby shelves, searching for the book I needed on potion ingredients.
Once I found it, I’d go back to the dorm to change and warm up.
If Zane wasn’t busy doing Zane things, I knew he would be delighted to help me warm up.
Rasmus too. Besides, I wanted to check on my pig, who I’d affectionately named Fig.
Kenji had taken a dislike to Fig, and I didn’t trust my kitsune not to hurt him in my absence.
“The creature is too stupid to live. I’d be doing it a favor if I accidentally cooked it.”
“Anything happens to Fig and I’m shopping you to that bounty hunter.” Kenji’s horrified gasp was so loud I wondered if he’d blinked into the library to whine about Fig in person. But when I checked behind me, I saw no sign of my grumpy familiar.
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Try me and find out.”
My teeth chattered even louder when a biting wind blasted in from outside as another student entered.
Damn those witches. I would have to persuade Miss Windborne to let me cultivate some toxic mushrooms in the greenhouse.
A bout of explosive diarrhea would make those nasty bitches question their life choices.
My fingers reached for the thick spine of the book I’d found just as my magic sparked into life and the scent of ozone heated my body.
“Why the fuck are you dripping all over the floor?”
Alaric had kept his distance since the flag disaster, but it didn’t stop my traitorous magic from purring with joy at his presence. Even though I knew the mage could never claim me as his, my magic had different ideas.
“Water magic,” I replied, tugging the book free. At least my hands were dry. I’d hate to damage a book and incur the wrath of the librarians.
“You don’t have water magic.” The mage stepped closer. A rush of heat enveloped me in a warm caress, sucking all the water from my wet uniform. “So let me ask again, what happened?”
“Just another Tuesday in the life of a socially ostracized witch.”
Alaric’s jaw clenched as he read between the lines. “Who did this to you?”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t go after every witch who thinks I’m an abomination to my species.”
“So it was a witch.” He leaned in close enough to tease my senses with his ozone scent and warm my skin with his body heat. Then he inhaled.
I cringed in embarrassment. Oh my goddess, did I smell bad?
“Polly’s magic.” Alaric’s mouth flattened into a thin line.
My embarrassment faded as his words sank in. “Polly? How do you know it was her magic?”
He smirked. “I can read magical signatures.”
“Oh, that’s cool.” Not a skill I’d heard of, but definitely useful.
“Yeah. I want to join the MIB when I graduate, but my father has other plans.” I had no plans whatsoever, but the MIB sounded like a smart career choice for a mage like Alaric.
Not only was he powerful, but he also had plenty of political connections.
Unlike me, who’d probably end up working in a shitty diner if my deadbeat demon dad didn’t abduct me by then.
I leaned against the shelf and stared up at the storm mage, surprised he was willing to talk to me in such a public place. Then again, there was nobody else around other than the librarian, and she rarely left her desk.
“What does your father expect you to do when you leave here?” Color me curious.
“Anything that benefits him.” Voices filtered in from the entrance. Alaric grabbed my hand and pulled me deeper into the stacks, past the Potions & Spell Ingredients section and into the Human History corner, where nobody ever ventured.
“What are you doing?!” If anyone saw us together, acting like we were up to no good, tongues would wag, and Alaric’s father might grow suspicious.
In my head, Tiberius Vane was all-seeing and all-knowing, a bit like the Eye of Sauron from a human fantasy series I’d watched last year. Did that make me a hobbit or a sexy elf?
“Making up for lost time,” Alaric growled before his lips crushed mine.