Chapter 35 #2
Singleton-Smith and my father share a satisfied smile. “Now, Cosmo, why don’t you take Jordan to dance?”
“Of course.”
Then my father twists his body, pulling my sister closer.
Gods, I’d almost forgotten she was standing there.
What does she make of all this?
“Aurora, I have someone I want you to meet. A man who will be a very important part of our new dawn, and someone you are going to become extremely well acquainted with.”
Father gestures to Thomas Crankshawe. His beady eyes gleam, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips beneath the pencil moustache.
“What, what do you mean by that, Father?” Rory asks, flicking her eyes quickly up to our parent and away again.
“What? Spoil the surprise?” The jovial act really doesn’t suit my father. I watch Aurora shudder and feel helpless as he pushes her towards Crankshawe. “Aurora would love to dance with you, Thomas. Do take her.”
Take her. Fuck.
He’s pimping my baby sister to fucking Thomas Crankshawe? Every part of me wants to turn around, grab Aurora, and run, run, run. But I can’t. She’ll be alright for a dance or two, surely.
Please Gods.
I have to play the dutiful son for a while longer. “Shall we?” I say to Jordan, offering her my arm. As we walk towards the dance floor, I see a flash of color and realize Theodora is hovering next to a pillar near my father.
She needs to be careful.
The Conclave must not discover she can destroy the darkness.
If they have even an inkling of the power inside that girl, and the way her light purged the hate from my veins?
I shudder at the thought.
Her voice flashes into my head.—Your dad and Jordan’s dad both had the dark essence, but not the woman or the girl—
I keep my face impassive, but internally sag with so much relief that Aurora has been spared—so far.
Can’t say I’m surprised Janine Singleton-Smith hasn’t been given extra power.
“Cosmo!”
“Sorry, dear.” Mechanically, I take Jordan onto the dance floor, and she sways in my arms as a string quartet plays classical versions of pop songs.
I don’t hate the interpretation of Taylor Swift’s Everything Has Changed.
Everything has changed—at least for me.
Since Theodora pulled that foul essence from my body, it’s like I’m seeing the world through new eyes. I have x-ray vision that cuts through bullshit, including my own. Mostly, my own.
“Gods, can you believe Naomi turned up with that dud? Talk about dumbing down,” Jordan sneers, as Watson and Theodora’s friend waltz by.
Truthfully, I’d much rather hang with them than the next couple that come up to us. Kayla Cox and Klein Schweinesteiger.
They dance beside us for another go around until Kayla stumbles drunkenly against her boyfriend. “Jord! Come with me to the ladies, we can make it snow!”
Perfect.
If Jordan is annoying now, she’s ten times worse when she’s coked up. My fiancée pulls me to a halt. “I’m going to powder my nose, darling,” she says, turning on her heel to join her gang.
“Have fun.” Thank fuck. At least I get a breather. Klein tries to speak to me, but I ignore him and go straight to find Donovan. When I spot him, he’s not standing with Theo and Max anymore. He’s alone.
“Hey, where are the other two?”
“Theo is still trying to listen in on your pops and his gang. She needed to be closer. We figured he doesn’t know Max or Theo, so they’d be safe hanging around the vicinity, but he’s all too familiar with me, so I’m keeping a low profile, hoping not to run into my parents.”
“Makes sense.” I look at the glass of whisky in Donovan’s hand and regret my choice to be sober for the evening. “Can I?”
“Knock yourself out.”
I throw the contents back in one go, enjoying the burn all the way down my esophagus. “Thanks.”
“What did your dad have to say?” Donovan asks.
My gut churns at the memory of my father's smug smirk and the burning sigil. I lean in, keeping my voice low. “He thinks the dark essence has me as an enthusiastic member of the Conclave’s new order. I’m pretty sure he bought my performance and has no idea that shit is burned out of me.”
—Hey guys…can you all hear me?—
Donovan grins like an idiot as Theodora’s voice echoes in our heads. I keep calm and signal to a passing waiter for more drinks. —I can hear you—
—Me too, Sparkles—
—Loud and clear, pulu—
Hmm, I guess Feniks is also on the line.
—OK. One man is fretting about the building site back at the academy. Thinking it was vulnerable. Or something—
“We really have to get inside that compound,” I mutter.
—Oh, and another had a mental image of a place where people are fighting…like a club or something?—He’s remembering meeting someone in a back room and is annoyed he has to go there again—
This is so frustrating, getting bites of a story, but no real details. —Which brains are you picking? I need names—
—I don’t know who they are—not your dad or the twins' parents though—it seems I can’t hear the thoughts of anyone with the dark essence—
Shit, that’s unfortunate.
—YO DUDES! THIS IS ME, MAX. I’LL KEEP TRACK OF THE WANKERS SHE’S LISTENING TO—
—Please stop shouting, Maximus—
—Sorry, Sparkles—
—Alright, I’ll stay close and see what else I can pick up—
Donovan nudges me, looking worried. “Is this putting her in danger?” he asks.
“Anything to do with my father is dangerous, you know that.”
He nods. —You and Max should step away, we don’t want to push our luck—
—I agree, pulu—
There’s some back and forth, but within a few minutes, Max and Theodora agree to move further to the edge of the room.
“Don’t look now,” Donovan says, looking over my shoulder. “But your fiancée is searching for you, and she looks a little toot-happy.”
“Fuck my life. OK, I’d better go.” I hand the half-empty glass back to him. A buzz from the alcohol isn’t worth the risk tonight.
“Be careful, man,” Donovan says, “everything is so fucking weird.”
“I hear you.”
I make my way back into the crowded ballroom, meeting Jordan. She gestures dramatically with her hands. "Where were you?" Her words are slurred, and her eyes are all-pupil.
I force a smile onto my face. "Sorry, dear. I had to handle something. More champagne?" If I give her enough alcohol, maybe she’ll pass out.
A strange smile spreads across her face. "I know our engagement is difficult for you, but you’re coming around, aren’t you? Daddy said you’d definitely come on board.”
“Absolutely.”
Half an hour later, I’m holding her upright while she sways to the music. I don’t mind, it’s way better than conversation and actually gives me a moment to think.
Looking around, unease coils in my stomach.
The Elites and Conclave members are everywhere, smiling, chatting. Fuck. I wish Theodora could read my father’s mind; that’s where all the secrets lie.
Jordan leans into me. "We're going to be the most powerful couple here, Cosmo. Just you wait." I’m saved from answering by a sudden pause in the music. An amplified female voice asks for attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of Validus Vale’s president, Solita Eudoxia, and myself, I offer you warm greetings and thanks for your presence at the one hundred and eighteenth annual All Hallows Ball.”
Applause breaks out for Dean Crankshawe. “Now, please direct your attention to the stage and welcome the President of the World Magic Organization, Alistair Singleton-Smith, and the businessman revolutionizing the role of the modern witch, Tyrus Drakeward.”
“Aww, look. Our daddies.” Jordan grabs my hand and drags me closer to the stage, where Jordan's father and my own wait for every attendee to fall silent and pay attention.
It takes less than a minute.
Alistair raises a hand and smiles, a wide, practiced look that never reaches his eyes. “Good evening, esteemed members of the Elite. Tonight, we celebrate the excellence that is Validus Vale Academy. But we are also here tonight to celebrate a new era of purity and purpose.”
My father steps forward, radiating cold power.
"For too long," Tyrus Drakeward begins, his voice perfectly modulated, "the World Magic Organization has been hampered by inefficiency and dilution. That ends now. The Conclave and the WMO are proud to announce an official, permanent partnership."
A wave of applause ripples through the Elite crowd, though I can sense a tension forming in the air.
Alistair Singleton-Smith speaks again, his voice taking on a hushed, reverent quality.
"For decades, our researchers have chased a legend.
Tonight, under the superior guidance of The Conclave, we have achieved the impossible.
" He raises his voice triumphantly. "Our scientists have found a way to resurrect Innate Magic! And what’s more, it will be granted exclusively to our most powerful Elite bloodlines. "
The room erupts—not in simple applause, but in a hungry, ecstatic frenzy. Jordan is shrieking next to me.
My father holds up his hands, demanding silence again. "We will provide the magic; you provide the zeal for revolution.”
Of course. My father wants zealots.
“To demonstrate the unparalleled potential of the New Guard,” he continues, “please welcome Validus Vale’s only Elite freshman, Francois de Vaux.”
Francois strides onto the stage looking utterly composed—and dangerous.
He beckons to a passing waiter. The nervous server approaches, and Francois takes a canapé from the tray. He holds it out for everyone to see, then…oh fuck.
The pastry begins to twist and distort; first melting into a viscous liquid, then reforming not as bacon-wrapped dates, but as a solid, shining gold nugget.
Transmogrification, but more than that, it’s alchemy.
Turning organic matter into gold.
I stare at Francois, my stomach twisting.
Father smiles, savoring the shock. “Yes, gold. But Francois can use his innate power to produce all kinds of elements; uranium, plutonium. You name it.”
Great, a freshman can conjure up everything needed to make a nuclear bomb. What the fuck is his ancestry?
What magical creature can do all that?
Fucking Feniks will probably know. I focus back in on the cunt that spawned me.
“And this is the merest hint at the future of magic,” Father continues.
“Of course, the innate power will only be given to the most deserving hands.
We must acknowledge that not all are created equal.
Some are fated to serve—the lower witches and the humans.
Others, the Elite, are destined to lead as true Magi. "
Jordan squeezes my hand so hard her nails dig in. "Did you hear that, Cosmo? We're getting Innate Magic! We'll be unstoppable!"
My father’s gaze sweeps over the crowd, landing briefly on me.
Swallowing my instinct, I incline my head in a nod, trying to pass on a convincing message that I’m totally on board.
Seconds later, a voice interrupts my thoughts.
—Cosmo?—
—Yes, Theodora?—
—Do you think the shadow essence means they can shift…the same way you can?—
A shiver runs through me at the thought of my father having dragon powers. —I’ll see what I can uncover—
Singleton-Smith speaks again. “And now, I’d like to introduce the two scientists who have headed up this groundbreaking research. Dr. Joyce Hart and Dr. Jonquil Hart.”
I stare as the twins’ parents walk onto the stage.
Joyce strides ahead proudly, while Jonquil looks much more uncomfortable.
My father doesn’t even glance their way, obviously feeling superior to everyone, even those he’s sharing a stage with.
“The re-emmergence of innate magic is something we have been working on for many years now,” Singleton-Smith says.
“It’s been laborious and grueling, but the effort pales compared to the results.
A new era is dawning. Obviously, you will all be interested in igniting your own innate magic, but this is not for everyone.
Invitations will be sent out to those deemed worthy of this honor.
The financial cost will be high, but if you are in this room, I doubt that is a problem. ”
The audience applauds, but there is some murmuring too. I look over to Donovan, Max, and Theodora. She’s pinned between the two guys like they are her bodyguards. I notice that Feniks has crossed the room and is hovering six feet behind them.
Theodora’s voice rings in my head.
—Gods, how many innocent children will they have to use to feed the essence to all the Elite?—
Even one is too many.
—We won’t let this happen—
I focus on the girl. She stares back, silver eyes fixed on mine as she sends me a message.
—You’re the one who is welcome in the Conclave. Go pretend like you’re excited—
Fuck my life.
I loop an arm around Jordan’s waist.
“Let’s go congratulate our fathers.”