Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
Callahan is out because he would never do it. And I would rather slit my own throat then ask Thorne. I can’t subject Jullia and Asher to that, so maybe Hanna? I also don’t need to be owing the professors any favors so they’re a definite no. And Darian is. . . he would be the absolute last resort.
Something flickers somewhere further in me and I remind myself I still need to pay attention. But the burning has stopped. Did I answer all of his questions? The last one I remember hearing from the devil was if I burned Thorne’s rooms.
I had to smirk at myself for that. Because technically I did not. Technically my magic did – my flames. He did not ask if I used magic to burn Thorne’s rooms down. If he had then I would have said yes. But he only asked if I had done it, and to create blue fire only magic itself can do that.
I’ll have to thank Elsa for that. A high fae noblewoman who loves frequenting the club every so often. She’s not from this side of Miy but the opposite where the Mage Board has less control and monarchy’s are of more influence.
High fae cannot lie, however omissions are not lies.
I had known that speaking less words can be more powerful, but she taught me the art of speaking only select words.
The art of truth telling and the art of bending – twisting and knotting – truth telling.
And just because you answer a question does not mean you answered the whole question.
Truth pulling empathic magic requires you to tell the truth when you speak. However, you can always choose to simply keep your mouth shut. So I only answered the parts of questions I wanted to, leaving them to all think I simply answered all questions with only one answer.
But the devil has not asked any more questions and it has been a while. The burning has also stopped, so did he remove his hand from my body?
The second he did that I did what I have only done once before. I locked myself within my mind. My body becomes detached from myself, even though I can faintly hear and see and speak.
It doesn’t last long, and the downside is if I stay in this state for too long my body will shut down. I’ll become trapped in my mind unable to do anything. First my breathing will stop, then my heartbeat slows until it stops.
I had been dead for twenty-four minutes before the shocks of a defibrillator flickered in my mind and I realized I needed to unlock my mind. It’s almost like when someone goes brain dead and their body is unable to function.
Not only is that a downside and why I never did it while the devil beat me, but it is also incredibly hard to unlock myself from my mind. So many thoughts, so much thinking, so much, too much, going, going, going.
Thoughts will pass and I won’t realize it’s been several minutes. And it’s so safe here. There’s no pain, though my thoughts can consume me in a different way.
I force myself through the barriers of my mind to peak out my own eyes. The red devil is no longer in front of me and instead it’s the golden devil. The one who is causing something further in me to tug. His eyes are distant as they watch me and there’s something in them.
Something I only see when I look in the mirror.
I need to leave this place. I realize now I stopped breathing a couple minutes ago. I need to unlock my mind.
The black ring around the edge of his iris is starting to slowly consume the gold.
I told him to keep a lock on his devil. Why is he not freaking listening.
His eyes flash and the black retreats. Mavyn. His lips moving and that reminds me I need to unlock myself. I need to come back to my physical body.
I huff within my mind. I do not really want to. I am so tired of feeling pain.
Mavyn. His lips moving again. Can you hear me firecracker? Can you breathe for me? I need you to wake up.
Oh yes, I forgot about that. I’m technically killing myself like this.
I really wish I didn’t want to live.
Pushing further past the barriers of my mind, I see more than just pinpoints through my eyes. The edges of the golden devil come into focus, and then his body, and then the room we’re in. I can feel myself blink, and then I suck in a deep breath after not doing so for nearly eight minutes.
And then it’s just as I suspected.
Pain.
. . .
Why can I not feel my legs?
It’s my first thought when my conscious wakes up. The last thing I felt before – I assume – I passed out from the pain. I had locked myself in my mind, I remember, because I was being questioned about Thorne’s rooms burning.
My lips curl at that and my stellar truth telling. I technically did not lie.
“Why are you smiling like a fool?”
I frown and loll my head to the side. The rest of my body feels kind of numb as well, and my head feels light. I feel. . .
Panic shoots through my veins and adrenaline rushes as my heart pounds.
I’m drugged.
I’m drugged and I can’t regulate my heartbeat or my blood flow.
“Yes.” The deep voice speaking again. Gold ringed red eyes watching me like I’m a lunatic about to go off. Rude. “Drugged, but with pain relievers and healing tonics. You were also a bit dehydrated and malnourished so there’s a feeding bag and fluids entering your system.”
I roll my eyes up to all the bags connected to tubes attached to needles pricking the tops of my hand. That doesn’t explain why I feel drunk, all floaty and flighting and light. And I still can’t feel my legs.
“Your feet were incredibly burned so there’s a salve on them with a powerful numbing agent that helps alleviate the pain. So you won’t be feeling them for a while.”
I try to snap my eyes from the bags to him but they lag and it feels like a glitch. Still, once I do I slit my eyes and glare at him. Can he read my thoughts?
He rolls my eyes. “Your mental shields are still up but yes, I can hear most of your thoughts.”
Oops.
I giggle but it sounds gurgled in my chest.
LMAO.
He sighs and shakes his head. “Aside from that, are you feeling better?”
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. I try to open my mouth but my body does not cooperate. It makes me wonder just what kind of drugs they used.
“Healing drugs,” he grits. “You were in a lot of pain and then afterward you weren’t breathing for a while and then passed out. You want to tell me about that?”
I look away to think. All of him is just too much. Where’s Callahan? He was the last thing I saw before I went unconscious. But I didn’t go into a nightmare for some reason.
“Why do you say that?”
Shit.
So like this he can hear my thoughts?
“Yes. Now answer me.”
Answer me.
Of course. . .
“Of course, what?”
His voice is strained as he leans into me. Slowly consciousness eases out of the sluggish, drunken-feeling state. I return his gaze and glare.
Nice fucking try, devil.
I solidify my mental shields and my thoughts. Containing everything so he can no longer hear. He straightens and neutralizes his expression to closed off but irritated.
“Nice fucking try, what?” We both turn to golden eyes narrowed at Professor Asier before softening at me. “What was being tried?”
I look up to the professor and smirk, but I won’t be saying anything. Cleaver fucking devil. Thinking that I’ll have loose lips because I’m drugged. Simple pain relievers and healing tonics do not feel like this. Even the stronger stuff they use. I know when I’ve been drugged.
“How many times have you gone into your nightmare realm?”
He asks it to me, but I don’t feel like answering it. It’s not his business. It’s not any of their business.
It’s barely been two months at this fucking school and already so much bullshit has happened. This was supposed to be easy. I go to my classes, I graduate, I go home. It was never supposed to be this complicated.
Why the fuck did I not notice that damned vampire in the ally?
I grit my teeth and curl my nails into my palms. “I had asked if you would stay out of my business, Professor. You said yes.” Like a good boy.
When I look up to him his glare is infused with more than just annoyance and anger. There’s a frustration in his eyes that goes beyond irritation. It’s a pointed, fiery rage at me. Borderline hatred.
Well get in line.
“This is my business,” I state. Calm and clear and deadly.
A muscle in his jaw twitches. “And you don’t want to inform your fated about such things?”
I glance at Callahan who’s watching our exchange with inquisitiveness. There’s no negativities or possessiveness coming from him. Which is at odds with how he was before when Professor Asier placed his hand on my shoulder before we begun truth pulling.
“Being fated means nothing until our souls become bound, there’s a claiming mark, and the proper documentation has been filed.
The only person who needs to know my business is me.
And unless the Mage Board or the Dean of Syngenia University explicitly asks for the inner thoughts of some nineteen-year-old, I don’t need to tell anyone jack shit. ”
There’s a sharp tug now, but I ignore it. Callahan doesn’t say anything as he takes the seat to the left of the bed and Professor Asier – who’s on my right side – brings a wall up. A mask slips over his expression until I can’t read anything from his face.
But his body. . . that is thrumming with damnation.
“I see,” he says, cool and neutral. “In that case, I will be seeing you Friday. There will be a written-only test on the first millennium of Syngenia that will be a quarter of your final grade. I will also not be accepting anymore late work for the rest of the semester so you better ace the test or else you’ll be dropped out of Magic History.
It will be the same for Intro to Power Compulsion about late work. ”
Then he leaves and that bomb hits like I’m sure he intended.
The Mage Board is going to kill me.
Callahan scoots his chair closer to the bed and grabs my hand. “It’ll be fine. We can study tonight and tomorrow after – “
“I have work.”