His voice quivered as he spoke, his confident calm gone. “I bargained with the Fae, using my soul as collateral to ensure you wouldn’t lose yours.”
Elric had always said he’d done it because he still worked for the Raven Queen. Thatch had claimed pragmatism as his motive. I had wanted the reason to be love. That hope had been dashed when he’d proven his indifference for me with pain magic and by draining me. Only now did I truly understand the depth of his sacrifice for me.
I still couldn’t quite believe my ears. “That time in the alley. With Elric. You kissed me, but you didn’t mean it.”
“Incorrect.” His lips pressed into a line.
“You told me you only kissed me to get back at Elric and to get back at me.”
“I lied.”
Heat flushed to my face. “It’s hard to believe you when you say one thing and do another. You were the one who said you only kissed me to get revenge. You publicly denounced having any feelings for me. How am I supposed to know you actually care when you say you don’t?”
He leaned against the railing, his face silvery in the moonlight. He didn’t answer. Maybe he had no answer to that. It would have required him to admit I was right.
He mumbled, almost too quiet to hear. “I didn’t know—I don’t know how to do this.”
“To do what?”
“To show I . . . have feelings for someone.”
My insides trembled, and I suddenly felt lost. “I don’t understand. Are you saying you liked me? You were attracted to me?”
He cleared his throat. “I had no intention of liking you. At the start of your first year at Womby’s, I didn’t care what you thought of me. It was so much easier to hate you if you hated me. As our relationship grew more . . . amiable, I feared you were growing too fond of me. I knew you were in love with Derrick. I had no intention of disrupting your future happiness with him.”
It was just as my fairy godmother had said. He’d sacrificed his own happiness for mine.
His eyes smoldered as he gazed at me. “I wanted to ensure you would never fall in love with me. I did my best to keep a professional distance from you, but I’ve found it impossible not to fall in love with you. You bewitch my mind and ensnare my senses.”
I laughed, certain he was saying that just to be funny. He must have read Harry Potter. Only he wasn’t laughing. His words filled me with complete awe.
He reached out a hand toward me but stopped himself and planted his palm on the railing instead. His knuckles were as white as the marble, bone straining against flesh. “I admire you so ardently it hurts. The pain is visceral enough that I can use it to fuel my affinity. One more disciplined than I might welcome the source of power. But I would rather crush my bones in vices than suffer the heartache of loving you.”
I threw my arms around him and burst into tears. “I’m so relieved.”
“Not the answer I was hoping for.”
I hugged him, not wanting to let him go. “I mean, I’m relieved because I love you too.” I sniffled.
“You sound so happy about it,” he said dryly.
I wiped my tears on the back of my hand. “I am happy.”
He handed me a handkerchief. I wiped my face and blew my nose.
He tucked my head under his chin, cradling me against him and nuzzling his nose into my hair. “I’m not using your affinity against you. You have mastered the ability to keep control of yourself . . . most of the time. And if you slip while we’re together, I’m powerful enough to sense the change in you. Please trust my competency in magic on that account. I’m not going to allow you to destroy yourself or me with your magic. I am not going to use you.” He coughed. “I apologize for my behavior after dancing with you. I know I hurt you. That was never my intention.”
I nodded. I assumed he meant at the swing club.
He squeezed me to him briefly before kissing the top of my head and releasing me. He held me at an arm’s length. “I need you to understand something, Clarissa. I love you, but sometimes that isn’t enough. I can’t have a relationship with someone who can’t trust me. You don’t even trust me enough to teach you protective spells.”
The distance between us felt like a thousand miles, but I understood why he had drawn away. It was easier to think on his words rather than to melt into the sensations of his body pressed against mine.
“Is that what this is about?” I asked. “You don’t think I trust you?”
He smoothed his thumb against my cheek, his eyes expressing the misery I had caused him. “I know you don’t trust me.”
I hated it when he was right. There were so many times I hadn’t listened to him—but I would have if he’d communicated with me. “You could have told me why you didn’t want Josie to be my roommate.”
“No, I couldn’t. Her affinity wasn’t my secret to tell.”
It was hard to stay mad at him for that one. But the burden of a thousand other lies between us tore us in separate directions.
One side of his mouth lifted into a sardonic smile. “I know I’ve never given you any reason to trust me.”
“If I have a lesson with you in the fear chair, will you know I can trust you?” I asked.
“It would be . . . a start.”
I wanted to show him I trusted him, but it was hard to do so when he didn’t trust me. We had to start somewhere. Both of us had our issues. I sat down on the bench the Lupis had vacated moments ago. He didn’t join me.
I considered the note I’d stuck into my bra that I didn’t want him to know about. Was it that I didn’t want the information to hurt him, or was it that I didn’t trust him?
“Who is the Princess of Lies and Truth?” I asked.
“Who?” His head tilted to the side, utterly confused. “Is that an official title?”
I wanted to believe the confusion on his face was genuine, not fabricated. “Who is Morgaine Le Fay?”
“That is the French variant of Morgan or Muirgen. It’s . . . one of the names for the Raven Queen.” His lips pressed into a grim line. Warily he watched me. “Why?”
I removed the note from my bra and held it out. Reluctantly, he took the paper. In the light of his wand, his face remained blank as he read. It was only the slight tremor to his hands that gave away that the letter affected him in any way.
“This letter was written by a member of royalty in one of the Fae courts.” He refolded the note and placed it in his pocket. “Where, may I ask, did you find this?”
I smoothed my hand over the book Khaba had given me. I was about to say goodbye to forbidden knowledge. “Khaba found it in Jeb’s bookcase.” I handed it over.
He withdrew, taking his soundproof spell with him. I didn’t know if it was the shock of the letter or the idea of us that caused him to go. Laughter from the party wafted toward me, reminding me it was supposed to be a social occasion. When I left the balcony, I spotted Thatch in a corner of Jeb’s office, surrounded by a pile of books from the empty glass case. He held the one on forbidden affinities in his hand, hunched over the text, reading.
Like me, he was an introvert who would rather have spent the evening reading. It made me smile, knowing how much alike we were. I was more certain than ever that I loved him.
Now I needed to show him I trusted him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Hex-Ed for Dummies
I didn’t want to be a cynic, distrustful of the world and all my friends. As Elric had said, the world didn’t need another Vega Bloodmire. I didn’t want to cut myself off from all people because I was too afraid to love or be loved, as I suspected had been the case for my mother.
I could understand Thatch’s reluctance to love someone who couldn’t fully love him.
Thatch hadn’t said when I should prove myself to him. I intended to show him my eagerness and earnestness as quickly as possible. I only stayed at the party long enough to congratulate Khaba on his position and fulfill the social obligation requi
red of me.
I knew the dungeon would be locked, so I used my lockpick kit to get in. I half expected a spell or ward, but there was none. Maybe the dungeon wasn’t high on the list of places students liked to break into.
Thatch wasn’t in his office when I arrived, but I hadn’t expected he would be. I considered sitting in his chair and waiting, but he didn’t like anyone sitting in his chair. I decided that wouldn’t exactly endear him to me. If I was to prove I was worthy of him, I would have to complete my lessons. I would prove to him I could trust him.
I would prove to myself I could trust someone.
The fear chair’s magic worked best without barriers.
I undressed down to my underpants and stockings, shivering in the cold air. I folded up the clothes and placed them on the corner of the table. Maybe it was the part of me that flirted with danger, but I kept on my knee-high stockings and Mary Jane shoes.
I had come prepared for the evening. I slipped the sleep mask from the pocket of my sweater. Now that Vega had moved back into our room, I decided it was my turn to borrow her things for a change. I sat in the chair and slipped the blindfold over my head. The chill of the chair sank into me, making goosebumps rise on my skin. My nipples prickled with cold. I squirmed in the frigid chair, trying to get comfortable against the hard metal surface.
A dozen times I considered getting up and leaving. Who knew how long he would take? He might sit in the corner of the party for hours. What if this crossed the line of professionalism he was always talking about? I was pretty sure I had locked the door behind me, but any student could break in and go to his office to steal alchemy supplies from the closet.
I rested my hands on the arms of the chair. I forced myself to stop worrying and meditate. I twitched at the sensation of the tickle over my arms. Pressure shifted onto my wrists, tightening and coiling around me. This was just part of the meditation, my fears being realized.
Thatch had taught me how to meditate. I focused on the red ball of energy in my core. It radiated strength, well-fed after my time with Thatch earlier in the week. I manipulated the size and intensity of my affinity, showing myself I could control my energy.
Footsteps echoed from a distance. The scuff abruptly stopped at the entrance from the dungeon to the office behind me. I bit my lip, praying it wasn’t Khaba or one of the other teachers. It would be pretty embarrassing if it were.
Slow, hesitant footsteps tapped closer. The chair on the other side of the desk creaked.
“Are you here for a lesson? Or are you attempting to seduce me? If it is the latter, I will have you know, I won’t permit myself to be seduced until after you’ve proven yourself. And if it is the former, don’t expect me to be easy on you.”
I swallowed. Maybe I was too transparent.
“Well, which is it?” he demanded.
“You told me I’m not allowed to talk during our lessons.”
“Very well.” He hesitated. “If this is to be a lesson, then you will need to fully undress.”
This was a first. I nodded.
His chair creaked. “Will you allow me to assist?”
I nodded again. For a moment I wondered if this was a construct of my imagination, but I suspected it wasn’t. My belly hadn’t ever quaked with trepidation like this.
The rough tweed fabric of his jacket brushed against my leg. He lifted my foot from the floor and set it on his knee as he unbuckled my shoe. I was aware of how close he crouched beside my chair. He wiggled my foot out and then and worked his fingers under the edge of the striped hose at my knee.
It startled me he should choose to do this without magic. The intimacy of his touch aroused me. Probably it was another one of his ploys to throw me off center. The magical self-defense lessons were all about surprise and self-restraint.
His fingers were a warm whisper against my leg. He shimmied the stocking down my leg before starting on the other foot.
Already I could feel my affinity swelling in response. It sang under his touch, like a siren calling her prey. I imagined the center of my power dimming and diminishing to a spark. I needed to contain my energy so I could learn to use it, not release it and lose it. I erected walls around the red energy.
The fabric of his sleeve caressed the top of my legs as he leaned forward. His hands skimmed across my hips, thumbs hooking under the lace waistband of my underpants. No granny panties for me today. He pushed them down an inch before I realized I would have to help. I tilted my pelvis, enabling him to slide them the rest of the way down. His breath whispered against my arm as he leaned in.
I remembered the way he had brushed his mouth across my skin when we’d been together. The way he had caressed me with his tongue had made me shiver with desire. My nipples puckered with arousal.
And probably cold.
Fabric rustled. The deep rumble of his voice came from close by my ear. “Focus on blocking external stimuli. Diminish the sensations of the body, and visualize the energies within you.”
I did so.
“We know you are fully capable of blocking pain. True, you could use more practice to increase your reaction time so that others don’t use your pain against you, but it is your own affinity that is your true vice. You allow pleasure to control you. If you are to be able to resist those who would use your sexuality to gain power over you, it is imperative you learn to resist its effects on your body. Does this make sense?”
I nodded.
“Will you allow me to touch you so that you can practice blocking out the sensation?”
I wondered if me meant touch me or intimately touch me? Maybe none of this was happening; it was all in my subconscious. If it were, it didn’t matter. I trusted the real Thatch, and I trusted the subconscious Thatch. I wanted to feel his touch, and if he thought this was the best way to impart this lesson, I was happy to go with it.
I nodded.
He took my hand in his. The imaginary bonds that had tied me to the chair melted away. The warmth of his palm pressed against mine left no doubt in my mind this was real.
He stroked my fingers. “Block out the sensation.”
It was more difficult to cut off the pleasant feelings than it was to diminish pain. He released my hand. “Shield yourself first, then we’ll start again.”
I did so, this time aware of his movement, using magic to watch as though I were outside of my own body. He sat on the edge of his desk, leaned forward to hold my hand in his. He smoothed his fingers up and down my arm in slow sensual strokes. His eyes watched my face, his expression thoughtful. It was easier to block out the sensual nature of the touch from reaching my affinity now that I’d centered myself.
“Good,” he said, approval in his eyes. He massaged higher up my arm. “You’re mastering yourself.”
I lost some of that mastery when he shifted closer, his legs positioned to the left and right of my chair to better reach me. He caressed both my arms now. His gaze flickered from my mouth to my breasts.
Perhaps it was the anticipation of his touch that aroused me more than the actual sensation. I didn’t know how far he would take it, if this would be a lesson where he pushed the boundaries of my magic—and sexuality—for the sake of education.
Maybe this was the magical version of sex education. Hex education?
My affinity spiked as his fingers brushed across the tops of my shoulders and along my collarbone.
“If you are to keep your affinity controlled, you will have to keep your core shielded so that your own magic doesn’t overflow into someone else and influence their judgment. Mastering your affinity will ensure that magic will not leave your body in the form of electricity or something else—unless you wish it. You must keep yourself neutral and minimize sexual energies.”
“I don’t want to suppress my sexual energies.” I half expected him to shush me for speaking.
“I didn’t say suppress, I said minimize. It’s the difference between sitting in front of a warm
fire on a winter night versus being engulfed in an inferno. A little goes a long way.”
“Oh.” That made sense.
We kept at it, my affinity fluctuating as I worked to maintain control despite his proficiency in the art of distractions. I tried not to let him arouse me, but I felt myself grow wet from his touch. He hadn’t even touched me sexually. Even so, the growing intimacy made it difficult to remain neutral.
“Are you ready to step this up a notch?” he asked.
I nodded, but I had a feeling I wasn’t going to be able to withstand much more.
“Will you be able to tolerate me kissing you?”
That question had multiple meanings. Would I allow him to kiss me? Or would I be able to restrain myself if he kissed me? Those questions had very opposite answers.
“Yes,” I said. “I want you to kiss me.”
“Hmm.” He leaned closer, his breath brushing against my cheek. “If you want me to kiss you, probably it’s a bad idea. We wouldn’t want you to give in to temptation.”
His breath trailed down my neck to the other side of my face. I leaned in toward the warmth of his breath. His lips grazed my skin before he pulled away. The tantalizing tease of sensation left me yearning for more.
“You are close to losing yourself.” A caress of air tickled against my breasts.
I bit my lip. I had already lost the ability to separate my body from my magic. Magic pulsed inside me, flooding into my limbs and making my skin tingle. It would only be a matter of seconds before I exploded.
He murmured into my ear. “Scoot to the edge of your chair.”
I did so. He placed his hands on the insides of my knees. His lips trailed along my cheek, stopping at the corner of my mouth. “Pull your magic back inside yourself. Let it implode, not explode.”
His thumbs caressed up the insides of my thighs. I panted, trying to gain control of the maelstrom of red light pulsing inside me. He pressed his lips against mine, his mouth hungry and relentless. His thumb brushed against my clitoris.
Hex Crimes Page 32