Chapter 33
Cosmo fucking Drakeward.
The little shit is poking through my desk like he has every right in the world to my secrets.
My blood pressure spikes. “What the fuck, Drakeward?” I roar, but the cocky bastard doesn’t flinch or even bother to come up with any kind of tale.
He knows I won’t believe whatever he says.
Drakeward is no idiot. I’ve seen him watching me, assessing.
“I’m searching your desk,” he replies with a lazy drawl that makes me want to punch his smug face. “It would help me enormously if you unlocked your third drawer.”
I’m sure my rage is apparent, but he just stands there, cool as a cucumber and pleased that I’m rattled.
“And by the way, this office is a fucking disgrace,” he continues, like I’m the child and he’s the adult. “I can give you the name of a cleaning service if you like. Nice kicks by the way. How’d you afford them?”
I stare at the barely-worn sneakers in his hands, and a wave of anger washes over me. Taking a step forward, I clench my fists. “What are you doing with those?”
Cosmo shrugs. “Seems a shame to hide them away, what with them being limited edition and all.” He angles the sneakers from side to side, a smirk playing on his lips. “Are these even your size? Look a little big if you ask me, Professor.” His eyes flicker with something I can’t quite place.
“I’ll ask again, what are you doing in here, runkku?”
“Always with the made-up curse words,” he tuts, shaking his head.
“It’s Kormovian, you imbecile. It means "tiny-penised masturbater.”
Very fucking surprisingly, Drakeward lets out a bark of laughter. “Runkku,” he repeats. “I’ll have to remember that one.”
I’m about to lunge at him when a voice behind me stops everything.
“Alexis?”
Theo. She stands in the open office doorway in one of her extraordinary weekend outfits.
Today it’s patchwork…overalls? Dungarees?
But shorts, not long pants. And over-the-knee orange socks.
I don’t really understand how she makes it all work, but she really does.
Taking my focus off her body and onto her face, I see she’s got a strange, unfocused expression. “Theo?”
She doesn’t answer, just takes one step, then another, into the room, bypassing me completely. My eyes flick to Drakeward. He’s watching her every move as she walks straight towards him. Drakeward is still holding Maximus’s shoes. Tentatively, Theo reaches out a finger, as if in a trance.
“What?” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “What are you?”
Is she? Can she be? Talking to the shoes? Drakeward’s eyes widen at me in a “what the fuck” kind of expression.
Yeah, what the fuck.
“Theo,” I say quietly. “Theo, can you hear me?”
She’s bent forward slightly, her face tilting from side to side, like a little bird. “Pretty,” she murmurs, once again stroking the air around the shoes. Fuck.
Can she sense that weird energy? That must be the case. I don’t like how captivated she is.
Drakeward must have had the same thought. Suddenly, he swings the shoes away, flinging them into the corner of the room. “THAT’S ENOUGH,” he yells.
Theo’s face drains of blood, and I dash forward, just in time to catch her before she crumples to the floor.
Holding her in my arms, I can feel the panic crashing through her body. “Hey,” I say, “You’re alright. You’re safe. Just breathe.” She’s hiccuping out sobs, and I pull her closer, rubbing her back. She’s so fragile.
“What just happened? What’s wrong with her?” asks Cosmo. I ignore him and concentrate on Theo as she starts hyperventilating.
“Breathe with me, pulu. Are you listening? Take a long, slow breath.” I gather her more firmly in my arms. Her hand presses against my chest.
Seemingly out of nowhere, a water bottle is thrust towards me. "Here, get her to drink this," Drakeward snaps. I would, but Theo still cries and shakes too hard. I have a spell that could soothe her, but I need my hands free.
"Hold her," I growl at Drakeward. He looks startled, but doesn't argue, just shrugging off his sweater, wrapping it around her like a blanket, and then lifting her into his arms. Taking a seat on the sofa, he rocks her gently, brushing her long, dark hair away from her face.
I get to work, drawing from my spark. I weave the magic passed down through generations of my people, from the beasts of our past. In ancient times, this spellwork lulled enemies into a false sense of security. Now, it’s most commonly used to calm panic and anxiety. Witch-made Valium, if you will.
As I cast, Theo's breathing slowly regulates, but my heart rate picks up. I taste her fear. The flip side to this spellwork is that I have to absorb the emotion that I’m taking away from the other.
Gods. Pain pours out of her psyche and into mine; her terror almost makes me choke; I swallow it down, but cannot take enough to release her fully from her panic.
When her eyes flicker open, I can’t bear to see how desperate they are, as if something has broken inside her. Fuck, I don’t know what’s happening, but I never want to see that look on my rakas' face again.
Rakas.
What the fuck? I just called her my loved one. Saying that out loud would be a fuck up of epic proportions. Thinking it is bad enough. I-I just can’t seem to control myself when it comes to Theo Wilson.
Cosmo continues to brush a gentle hand through her hair. I can read nothing but care and worry in his intentions. “What was that spell?” he murmurs. “I could feel it too. Powerful.”
Fucking hitto.
I’ve just exposed a small part of my powers to an Elite. And this particular Elite is son and heir to The Conclave’s Imperator—Tyrus Drakeward.
Still, what’s done is done. "Put her on the couch," I tell him, my voice clipped. "And then, we talk."
Drakeward lays her down, covering her once again with his sweater. Moving to a chair, he dusts it off with his hand, then sits. "Shall I soundproof the room?" he asks, his gaze meeting mine.
"No need," I say, a smirk spreading across my face as I recall listening in on him just a couple of nights ago. "It's already done. Only a hup?u would leave themselves vulnerable to eavesdropping."
Cosmo's brow furrows, and his shoulders tense. "You motherfucker," he spits, his voice low and dangerous. "That's how you know Wes and Donovan's names."
He's quick, I'll give him that. But he doesn't realize I overheard him from outside his fifth-floor window, not the corridor. "Why are you so interested in them?” Drakeward demands. “Does it have anything to do with what just happened?"
I have no idea why Theo was so affected by the sneakers. Looking up, I find Drakeward watching me, his expression thoughtful, appraising.
"I think we're both looking for similar things," he says slowly, his voice measured. "You cursed me out in Kormovian. There was another Kormovian student here last year; he had ink on his hand similar to yours. This kid went missing, too. Any relation?"
I glance at the back of my left hand, where two glowing tattooed eyes stare back at me. Should have fucking covered them up. Too late now. "I owe you no information," I say. “Additionally, I don’t like or trust you.”
"That goes without saying," he scoffs. "I'm Cosmo Drakeward, heir to The Conclave. You'd be an idiot to trust me. But Wes and Donovan are my brothers, and I will happily destroy every last part of my father’s power-crazed society if it means I can find the twins and bring them home."
A flicker of raw vulnerability crosses his face, which, strangely, makes me believe him. "Maximus Larsen," I say reluctantly, “is my cousin. The shoes belong to him. They were with his belongings, abandoned in his room."
“That maniac was your cousin? Yeah, I can see the resemblance, now you mention it.”
“Is my cousin,” I growl. “No past tense.” Max is alive; he has to be.
Drakeward leans back and crosses his arms. "So, the sneakers? What was the little dud sensing?"
Gods. Am I really about to trust this arrogant ass?
It goes against every instinct, but I guess I can share a little, use it to leverage more of Drakeward’s own secrets.
“When I searched his possessions, I could sense a strange energy coming from the shoes. It had a magical signature unlike anything I’ve ever come across.
It had worn off now—or so I thought. I’m working on the assumption that energy has something to do with Max disappearing. ”
“And maybe Wes and Donovan too,” Cosmo murmurs. "So, we work together, share information, and do not betray each other for the time it takes to find our people."
I glance over at the sofa, then stretch out my hand. "Fine. But you have to release Wilson. She cannot be bound to you."
"How? Never mind..." The prick was obviously shocked that I could sense the binding mark. That shouldn’t be possible for a lowly professor like me.
“Release her,” I say again.
“Fancy the little dud for yourself?” he sneers, his regular personality returning to the fore.
"Do you want this deal or not?" I counter, my voice hard.
"Fine." After a beat, he extends his arm and our hands meet in a sharp, decisive shake, a flicker of magic sealing the agreement.
"Looks like we're partners," Drakeward grins, the expression predatory.
"For a very, very limited time," I mutter under my breath.
“By the way, I found out about the ex-dean—Dartmouth, he’s dead,” he states casually, with no more emotion than if he were telling me the weather.
I’m about to grill him for details when a small voice calls me.
"Alexis?"
Cosmo and I whirl around, instantly snapping our focus back to Theo.