Her Kind of Magic: An Academy of Demon Hunters and Angels Romance (Academy of the Supernatural Book 1)

by May Dawson

“You think I’m a witch?”

  He closed his hand, and the flame was snuffed out. “Half a city block says so.”

  “No one was injured,” I blurted out. The way he was looking at me felt like he was judging me. “The building was empty…”

  “Not this time,” he said. “Do you want to roll the dice every time your feelings get hurt?”

  “It was a lot more than hurt feelings.”

  He didn’t bother to answer me. He just took another step back, holding his hands out to the sides. “So what was it, then?”

  “I was upset that my uncle had died.”

  “Liam, right?”

  “Yeah, Liam.”

  “What does upset mean?” he asked. “I saw a woman in a pizza place once who was upset about black olives.”

  “To be fair, olives on pizza are pretty disgusting.” I managed a glib answer, but his questions were beginning to get under my skin. Which was exactly what he was trying to do. “Do we have to play this game? Can’t I just try to…summon my magic? You weren’t in some big emotional state a minute ago when you did the flame-hands, right?”

  “Fine,” he said. “Show me.”

  “What do I do?” I held my hands up and cupped them in front of me. I’d never tried to do magic before. “Virgin territory here.”

  His gaze flickered to my face. Then he said, “Imagine fire blooming in your hand. Hold the image in your mind. Focus on it.”

  I stared at my hands, imagining a birthday candle’s small, flickering flame.

  “Do you think wrinkling your nose like that helps?” he asked. “It’s cute, don’t get me wrong. But it doesn’t exactly throw off the badass Hunter vibe we try to project around here.”

  “Don’t distract me.” I kept concentrating on the flame. “Also, at my old school, everyone thought I was badass.”

  “Oh really? Man, I’d like to have gone there. Low bar.”

  I frowned as I looked up at him. “Does this really work for you?”

  “No,” he said. “But you asked me what you’re supposed to do. That’s what I’ve read you’re supposed to do.”

  “What do you do?”

  “The magic’s supposed to be this…reservoir…inside you. The part of you that connects to the universe, that can change the universe. But it can be hard to reach.”

  “How do you do it?”

  He shrugged. “People all disagree about how this works, Deidra. You have to figure out your own thing.”

  “Okay. But I’m asking you what you do.”

  “I think of the worst day of my life.” He folded his arms over his chest. “I imagine it like a fucking sacrifice to the universe. Here I am, making myself miserable again, reliving this again. And then it opens up to me, and I take what I want from this world that never gave me a damn thing if it could help it.”

  He said it all so lightly that I stared at him, perplexed, when he had finished.

  “Which is exactly what I’m trying to get you to do,” he reminded me. “Use that worst day.”

  I didn’t have a worst day. It was a tie between the day my uncle died and the day my parents died. An old pain, a brand new one, but both ached constantly.

  His voice was relentless as he clapped his hands together. “Come on, embrace the suck. Pick some terrible moment and offer it up to the universe.”

  “You need therapy,” I told him.

  “Probably. I’ll take my powers in lieu of a healthy mental state though. Stop stalling.”

  I huffed out a breath and closed my eyes. They gave me the crazy man to train me. Helpful.

  Even as I thought that, my internal voice whispered, crazy like you.

  I couldn’t visualize Liam’s still face one more time. He had always tried to protect me, and that was the memory that came to mind now. That day when I was hidden in the dark, listening to the hum and gurgle of the water heater and the frantic beating of my own heart. Those sounds had almost blocked out my mother’s screams and my father’s more rare, frantic shouts. When she stopped screaming, he had started, though. It had taken a long time for them to die.

  Then it had been quiet for a long time, and I still couldn’t make myself move to get out. At some point, I’d wet myself. When I heard footsteps in the hallway right outside the utility closet, my heart had fluttered so frantically I thought I was going to die. Then Liam had said, “Deidra, are you in here, sweetheart?” I hadn’t been able to answer, and then he pushed open the crawl space door, and his deep brown eyes met mine…

  That’s got to be enough for the sick, sick universe. Fire. Now.

  I imagined the flames, but when I opened my eyes, nothing had changed.

  “Maybe we should do this my way,” Nix said, his voice patient. Or maybe relentless, depending on your perspective. “Tell me what happened before your magic went wild. There’s got to be a key to unlocking it.”

  “There’s got to be another way.”

  “What will it take for you to just listen? To just try it?” he demanded.

  I shrugged.

  He checked his watch and swore. “Fine. We’ve got to get to Malcolm’s office. We’ll pick this up again tomorrow.”

  “Fantastic,” I snapped at him. “I can’t wait.”

  I was annoyed at myself for not summoning the magic. And I was furious at him for trying to force me to dig into my pain and tell him all about it. Not because he cared, but because it was useful.

  His lips tightened above that perfect jaw, but he didn’t say anything.

  I had a funny feeling that holding his tongue wasn’t his natural state any more than it was mine.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Malcolm’s office was all dark wood and tan leather. Twin leather club chairs stood in front of his fireplace, and a Tiffany lamp illuminated a long, cherry wood desk with a few straight-back chairs in front of it. Bookshelves wrapped around the room, broken only by big windows that overlooked the quad. The old-looking texts within made the room smell like a mix of aged paper, leather, wood smoke and a faint scent of whiskey.

  “What exactly do you do here?” I asked Malcolm as he rose from his desk.

  Cade came through the door just in time to hear that. He stopped and put his head down, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  “I’m Cade’s Walking Aneurysm, by the way,” I told Malcolm. “We’ve only spent a few hours together, but I can definitely tell that already.”

  Nix shifted beside me. There was tension in his frame, and it made me wary. Malcolm just smiled.

  “I can see that,” Malcolm said. “Cade is a bit intense. But he’s a good man. A good friend to have.”

  “Mm-hmm.” I kept my tone just non-committal enough to make Cade’s jaw tense.

  “As for what I do,” Malcolm said, “I’m the dean.”

  The dean? It was a little strange he’d taken such a personal interest in me, unless they thought there was some way they could use me. “So do you make a habit of going out to rescue wayward witches who find themselves in police custody?”

  “As a general rule, no,” he said. “We usually don’t have anything to do with witches at all. But given your parents, you’re very much a special case.”

  My parents. As suspicion shot through my gut, I crossed my arms, my jaw suddenly setting. Liam had turned his back on the world of Hunters for a reason after their deaths.

  “Lucky me, I guess.” The words came out too flat to sound genuine.

  Malcolm’s keen eyes swept over me as if he took in every detail, but the calm look on his face never changed.

  “Well, you are lucky. You had four years with them.” Malcolm’s voice was gentle but certain. “Many people aren’t lucky enough to be loved well during their most formative years. You might not remember them much, but your parents molded the core material of who you are today.”

  Malcolm’s gaze was fixed on me, his deep green eyes filled with concern, as if it mattered to him that I heard his words. Why did he care? There was a smartass quip bouncing arou
nd in my head—respect for the dead, let’s not blame them for this—but I swallowed it.

  “Did you know them?” I asked, curious if he said that to be kind, or because he knew it was true.

  “I did,” he said.

  My heart leapt. Liam had been the only real string connecting me with their memories, although Gretchen knew them a little.

  As long as there are people who knew Liam, my mother and my father, I’d be able to speak of them out loud. I wouldn’t be clinging to fragile wisps of memory alone.

  “How did you know them?” I asked.

  Nix glanced away, out the window. When I replayed my voice, my question, I could hear the naked need in my eagerness. I bit my lip, too late.

  “They were students here,” Malcolm said. “I taught both of them.”

  I nodded, determined to let go of the subject. For now. “Tell me about where the monsters come from.”

  “There are always monsters,” Malcolm said. “Oh, yes, Cade said you slept most of the day, and he didn’t have the chance to hear your description. Let’s talk about them now.”

  “They were big. The size of bears.”

  “They always look the size of bears your first time out,” Cade said.

  I gave him a look that I hoped was appropriately withering. “They stayed on all fours. I’d approximate six to seven feet long from snout to ass. Pig-like faces, yellow eyes, and a whole lot of teeth. Liam taught me about geists and vamps, and they didn’t look like either.”

  “There are many more monsters than vamps and geists,” Malcolm told me. “Most of the myths and urban legends we have are founded in some truth.”

  Great. Like I didn’t have enough to fuel my nightmares already.

  Malcolm rose from his chair and began to search for a book on the shelves.

  “Something from the other side, maybe,” Nix said.

  “Perhaps,” Malcolm said. “Whatever it is, rest assured that the Hunter teams out there will be hunting for its kind.”

  The scratching of a pencil over paper drew my eye. Cade had taken a seat in one of the club chairs and was sketching quickly. “Deidra. Was the snout like this, or more pointed?”

  I looked over his shoulder at the sketch forming under his pencil. His hand moved quickly across the paper. His drawing was really good. “More pointed. And its ears kind of stuck up from its head.”

  “Killer boar crossing over from the Fae world, maybe,” Cade said, glancing at Nix. “But those usually spook. They don’t chase down people who fight back.”

  “Liam emptied his weapon into one of them,” I said. “And he hit two of them with his truck before we got out to decapitate them.”

  Cade and Nix exchanged a look.

  “So, not typical for these ‘boars’?” I made air quotes.

  “He was out of practice,” Nix said. “She’s inexperienced.”

  “Still,” Cade said doubtfully.

  “Excuse me?” I was about to go off on them, but I struggled to hold my tongue. She was right there and had been training in many forms of martial arts since she was four years old. And he might not have been an active Hunter, but Liam was skilled with a sword and he was an ace shot.

  But what mattered most was getting the information that I needed.

  “Coming over from the Fae world?” I demanded. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “There are tears in the fabric between worlds,” Malcolm said. “But rest assured, Deidra, our Hunters will be ready.”

  Malcolm flipped through the pages of a black leather book. As he passed it over to me, his finger marked his spot. I expected to see a boar on the page. But it was a yearbook. I stared at him, perplexed.

  “This is the academy yearbook from when your parents graduated,” Malcolm said.

  My mother’s face—young, with a scarf tied into her hair and her dark bangs sideswept and a serious look on her face—gazed out at me.

  “Your father’s on page seventeen,” he said. “And there are other photos throughout that have the two of them. You know what, bring it with you. But keep it on school grounds. The identities of Hunters is a carefully guarded secret.”

  “Thank you.” Before I could stare at the photo too much and attract their pity, I closed the book and tucked it under my arm.

  “We brought your uncle’s body back to the academy,” Malcolm said. “We will have a Hunter’s funeral for him Tuesday afternoon.”

  A Hunter’s funeral. That was what I’d wanted for him. I hadn’t even been able to give him the right funeral on my own. Liam would have managed to get away from the police. I hadn’t gotten far alone.

  My lips trembled, and I pressed them tightly together. Malcolm was waiting for my response, and I jerked my head in a nod. There was a softness in his eyes when he looked at me.

  After a second, I trusted my voice to say, “You should invite Gretchen.”

  “Gretchen?” he asked.

  “She and Liam…dated. She’s a Hunter, she knows. She’ll be having a hard time too.”

  He nodded, although his eyes were troubled. “All right. I’ll make sure this Gretchen is invited.”

  “Thank you.”

  Cade’s gaze flickered to me, as if he was surprised to hear me be thoughtful. Some of the pressure on my chest eased, replaced by irritation. When he looked at me that way, I had the most unreasonable impulse to stick my tongue out at him.

  “Your parents would have been very proud to see you here,” Malcolm said. “No matter how things ended, Deidra, your parents loved this work. They loved helping people. They belonged here, and so do you.”

  I managed to smile and nod my thanks before I headed for the door. But his words sat on me heavily.

  Liam hadn’t wanted for me to come here. He hadn’t wanted me to have any part of this life.

  Would my parents have been proud of me?

  Had I belonged here all along?

  Chapter Fourteen

  As we jogged down the steps to the main building, Cade and Nix naturally flanked me on either side. They’d been quiet in there as we talked about the monsters, and no one had mentioned anything about the man responsible.

  It seemed almost as if Malcolm didn’t want me to know. He was keeping secrets. The suspicion that flared in my chest settled into an ache, because I wanted to trust him after the sweet things he’d said about my parents.

  The guys hadn’t mentioned the witch either. It was all so unsettling.

  “I wasn’t supposed to hear about the man behind the monsters,” I said. “I get that. But now, why don’t you want Malcolm to know that I know?”

  Cade huffed out a breath that sounded like an exasperated laugh. “Because you look like you desperately want to do something stupid.”

  “Pardon?” My voice came out caustic.

  “Like get revenge. On your own,” Nix finished.

  “Nix knows the look,” Cade said, and Nix narrowed his eyes at him in turn.

  “Which you aren’t going to do because you aren’t stupid. Right?” Nix demanded. “Malcolm feels pretty protective of you right now. He’ll never let you off school grounds if he thinks you’re going to put yourself in danger.”

  Cade looked at Nix over my head, the two of them trading a meaningful look. I wasn’t petite—I was average height for a girl, and all my martial arts training meant I carried myself like I was taller—but they made me feel short when they looked over me like that. It was irritating.

  They weren’t wrong, though. I would like very much to put myself in danger, as long as it meant I had a chance to hurt the person who took Liam.

  “What’s that look for?” I demanded.

  “Cade thinks you probably belong on the short leash Malcolm would have for you,” Nix said.

  “Narc.” Cade muttered at him. To me, he said, “I’m just looking out for you.”

  “Yeah, you seem really intent on making sure I eat my vegetables and don’t get murdered, big brother,” I said, and Cade’s eyes widened. “
What about you, Nix? You don’t care if I get eaten by carnivorous pigs?”

  “You’re not going to be eaten by anything,” Nix said confidently. “Because if you do leave school grounds, you’re going to be with us. Like you said earlier. We’re asking you to trust us. We should trust you.”

  “Except I don’t trust you,” I said flatly.

  Nix hesitated. Then he said abruptly, “With students, Malcolm talks about the monsters like they’re coming into the cities on their own. That’s the official line. But there’s a witch controlling them. A witch who targets Hunters.”

  “Wait,” I said. “You think that my uncle was targeted…”

  Cade and Nix exchanged another look over my head. My jaw stiffened, and I breathed through my nose, trying to push down my anger.

  “Yes. The witch has killed sixteen—seventeen—” Cade stuttered over correcting himself. My uncle was number seventeen. I bit my lower lip. “A lone Hunter like your uncle would’ve been an easy target to lure out.”

  “He wasn’t alone,” I said sharply. Every time someone spoke of him being alone, it hurt even worse.

  He might as well have been alone. The first fight it ever mattered, and I’d let him die.

  “It’s personal for me,” Nix said abruptly. “I was training here…” He trailed off, then said flatly, “My family’s all Hunters. My sister, my parents.”

  He shook his head. “Were all Hunters. I think the witch, Truby, is behind their deaths.”

  As regret knotted in my stomach, I squeezed my eyes shut, just for a second. God, I’d been so self-centered. I wasn’t the only one who had ever experienced anything awful. “I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t acknowledge the apology, but then, I’ve never known what to say when someone says I’m sorry for my parents’ deaths. As long as they hadn’t killed my parents, what was the point of being sorry?

  “I’m going to get my revenge,” he said. “It’s the only way I can move on. And I thought you might feel the same way.”

  “You’re going to let me help you.” The eagerness in my voice was as naked as it had been in Malcolm’s office when I asked about my parents.