Dark Arts (Society of Ancient Magic Book 1)

by Fiona Starr

  “Lead the way.” She takes his hand and twirls around, letting him pull her through the house and out of view.

  “Drinks!” Roz declares to Georgia and me.

  We nod and follow Roz deeper into the house, through the kitchen and into the back yard where a bar has been set up next to the in-ground pool.

  “What’s your poison?” she asks, holding up bottles of wine coolers, beer, and vodka.

  I grab a wine cooler and pop the top, and sip as I scan the crowd. There's about fifty people dancing in front of a DJ, who is playing perfect house music for a crowd like this. I start moving to the beat, letting my shoulders relax when I spot a familiar face making his way toward me. He moves through the crowd like a shark, weaving through the throng without taking his eyes off me.

  Angus.

  He smiles when he finally reaches me, and bends to my ear. “I was hoping you’d be here.”

  His warm breath on my ear sends a thrill of gooseflesh all the way down to my toes.

  “It’s good to see you too,” I say, leaning my free hand against his chest so I can get up on my toes to reach his ear. He smells like he’s been outdoors all day.

  He places his hand over mine, holding it against him as he leans in again. The feel of our hands being squeezed between our bodies is so intimate, I can almost imagine that we are alone in this moment and not in this crowded space surrounded by so many people. “Want to dance?” His voice pulls me from my daze.

  I just nod and smile, and hand Roz my drink as he pulls me away.

  The flow of the electronic music is seamless as the DJ changes from one track to another, this new one overlaid with a familiar old disco riff that makes everyone cheer. The beat is constant and thumping, and as we move into the center of the crowd, Angus and I have no choice but to press against each other as the people squeeze in around us and we join them, swaying and weaving to the music.

  He’s still holding my hand. I look up at his face and he smiles as our eyes meet, then he dips his chin down as if to say something to me, his brow furrowed in concentration.

  “What?” I lean in to give him my ear.

  He shakes his head and moves a lock of my hair out of my eyes, tucking it behind my ear. His shirt sleeves are rolled up and I can see part of a tattoo on his forearm, I wonder what it is as he pulls me against him, one hand on my back, holding my body tight, the other still clutching my hand against his chest. We move to the beat, our bodies like one, and every point of contact we have sends tiny electric jolts straight through me.

  The muscles in his arms are hard and his hands are soft and he fits so perfectly against me. I let myself go, allowing him to lead me as we dance. I close my eyes and breathe him in, the heat coming off him turns his outdoorsy fresh smell into a memory of hot summer nights with fireflies and late picnic dinners and lazy conversation that lasts into the night.

  “I could get lost in you.” His voice takes on a husky quality as he whispers in my ear.

  I open my eyes and he’s right there, his face inches from me, his eyes on mine, watching me, waiting. His mouth is right there. His lips are parted.

  We are no longer moving. We stand together in the center of the dance floor, our eyes locked and our breath coming fast.

  “Your heart is racing,” I say, feeling it pounding against my hand, which he still holds clutched to his chest. We’re so close we have no trouble hearing each other despite the music that continues thumping all around us.

  “I want to kiss you,” he says, and his eyes are so serious it feels like we’re talking about something that hinges between the balance of life and death. Maybe we are.

  I lift my chin, offering my mouth to him. He holds my gaze, his pale eyes moving back and forth between mine as he inches forward and closes the gap between us. When his lips touch mine it’s slow at first, tentative, gentle. It’s like he’s asking for confirmation before he continues.

  I answer him by inching closer, pressing my mouth up to his and teasing his lips with the tip of my tongue.

  It’s all the confirmation he needs. His hand lets go of mine and he reaches behind my neck, holding me to him as he ravishes my mouth. Our tongues move together, exploring as they thrust, enjoying a little dance of their own.

  The music changes and the rhythm of the crowd shifts, causing us to press even closer together as we continue exploring each other with our lips and tongue and breath. He gets bumped from behind and crashes into me, the evidence of his arousal firm against my belly. He groans into my mouth and pulls away, pulling at my lip as he catches his breath.

  I am panting when I notice he’s looking at something in the distance. I turn to follow his gaze and spot his brothers, Van and Marco, standing near the pool. Van is staring at Angus, his face glowering. The effect is like a bucket of cold water, sobering us both from this intoxication with each other.

  Angus bends to my ear and nips at my earlobe with a soft groan. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

  I nod, unable to find any words to say and not wanting to shout over the music. I don’t want to change the mood. I don’t want to break the little bubble we’ve carved out of the noise. I don’t want him to go. I want to stretch time so we can just be here a little bit longer.

  He lifts my chin so our eyes meet. Then he bends close. “Can I see you again?”

  I lean up to him. “I’d like that.”

  “Thanks for the dance, Joely.” He walks away, holding my hand until it slips from his grasp.

  I watch him go, trying to get my head around what I’m feeling. I realize I have spent all of ten minutes with this man, but as far as my body is concerned, it’s like I’ve known him forever.

  Chapter Eight

  VAN

  Fuck!

  I watch Angus dancing with Joely and it sends a battery of alarms clanging through me. They move on the dance floor like they are the only ones out there. As if the world has disappeared… Angus is totally lost.

  I can’t blame him, because she is absolutely gorgeous and the black dress she’s wearing hugs her form, accentuating the curve of her hips and her narrow waist and her…

  Fuck.

  This isn’t going to be good. I know Angus, and I know how he can get. Granted, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him behave this way with a girl, so it kills me to shut it down, but the signs are all there. I want to think it’s nothing—just a simple attraction, but I’d be stupid to ignore what my eyes can plainly see.

  Fuck.

  We don’t have any time for this. Not now when we are so close. We have worked so long and hard to get here. Sacrificed so much. Years of planning have brought us to this point. It wasn’t easy getting us into The Society, and it was even harder to get myself assigned as a steward, but now that we’re in, it still won’t be easy to do what comes next.

  I know Angus takes our mission seriously. We all know what’s at stake here, and I don’t think any of us will sabotage the plan on purpose, but damn if Joely hasn’t lit a fire inside my brother.

  Marco claps a hand on my shoulder. “Looks like Gus needs to come up for air.” His tone tells me that he sees exactly the same thing I do. Red flag city.

  Fuck.

  Maybe I should cut Angus some slack—maybe he’s just blowing off steam now that we’re here and the latest major hurdle is handled. I shouldn’t assume he will let Joely become a distraction. Maybe it’s my fault for driving us so hard and insisting that we stay completely focused all the time. Maybe if I hadn’t pushed us to work so hard…

  But I know that isn’t true. He isn’t just blowing off steam…

  When we ran into Joely and Roz today, I was caught completely off guard. She crashed into me like a wave of heat and sweet honeysuckle. My entire body responded in a flash, not just in the reflex of holding on to prevent her from falling, but there was also something else, something deeper.

  Something animal.

  I haven’t felt that pull in more than a hundred years.

  No
t since… No. I won’t let myself go there. I refuse to get caught up in the past. There’s nothing back there worth dwelling on. There’s only darkness and pain. But she woke something in me that won’t be silenced easily.

  And that’s exactly what I see in Gus.

  Fuck.

  Watching my brother with Joely is sending all the alarms blaring, that’s true. I’m worried that he’ll lose his edge if he’s caught up in a girl. And if there’s anything the three of us need right now, it’s our edge. All of that is true.

  But there is this other thing sounding a different alarm. I can feel it clawing up from deep inside my chest. It doesn’t care about any mission or revenge or how much we have invested here. It only knows one thing: I want Joely for myself.

  Fuck.

  Chapter Nine

  JOELY

  “So… what was that about? With the new guy?” Roz asks when we’re finally outside and we can talk without having to shout.

  “New guy? What new guy? I didn’t see any new guy,” Winter says.

  “That’s because you were up to your tonsils with Mason, young lady.” Georgia bumps playfully against Winter as the four of us walk down the street toward campus.

  “Come on, you aren’t allowed to withhold any beans… spill.” Roz takes a pack of gum from her purse, unwraps a piece for herself, and passes the pack around.

  “What beans?” Winter says with a pout.

  “While Mason was getting to know you, Joely here was getting cozy with one of Van’s brothers.” She wraps her arm through mine. “And she was about to tell us all about it, right?”

  I feel my face flush and I’m grateful for the cover of night. “There’s nothing to tell. He asked me to dance, and I said yes.” I know that I am holding back, and I don’t want to disappoint my new friends, but I also don’t want to take anything away from the memory of my time with Angus. It wasn’t just a dance. It wasn’t just a kiss. Everything about it felt… real.

  “Girl, that was more than just dancing,” Roz goads me on, but I don’t take the bait.

  Winter stops walking. “Wait. Van has brothers?”

  “Two of them,” Roz says. “I know. I had no idea either.”

  Georgia scoffs. “Just what we need, three stern stiffs passing judgement from on high.”

  Roz shakes her head. “Oh, the brothers don’t seem at all like Van. At least not the blond one. Right, Joely?”

  I smile, remembering the way he called back to me when he was walking away this afternoon. How fun and light and so not like his brother he seemed then. But then I think about the intensity in Van’s eyes as he held me, and how it seemed like he might have been less gruff in that moment if the circumstances had been different. There was something in his eyes that seemed open and vulnerable, it didn’t last for more than a second before his guard came up and whatever had been there disappeared. So, I don’t know if I can really be the judge of either of them. I don’t think I want to judge them at all.

  We walk across campus, my three roommates guiding me toward our destination. When we get there, I have to stop and stare.

  “Wow,” I say, gaping up at the towers and the windows which glow warm and golden in the night.

  “It’s something else, right?” Roz says. “I’d tell you that you get used to it, but I don’t think that’s possible.”

  The Society of Ancient Magic looks like a castle plucked from another time and place and dropped into the middle of the town. There’s a wrought-iron gate near the road, but the building itself is set back, separated from the street by a generous cobblestone courtyard.

  The gate is open and the courtyard is lit by torches, lighting the way for everyone to walk to the entrance.

  We’re met at the door by an older man in a tuxedo who hands us a glass of champagne and ushers us through. “Good evening, welcome.”

  I take my glass and I’m stopped by a woman who places a purple ribbon around my neck. “For the new initiates,” she says, smoothing the ribbon so it sits flat over my shoulders.

  “Thank you.” I glance around the room and spot a couple of other people with a purple ribbon. I turn to Roz and see that she, Winter, and Georgia all have a red ribbon around their necks.

  “How many members are there?” I ask.

  Roz shrugs. “I don’t know. There are probably as many as a hundred here on campus. Most of the members that are here are students at Blakeborne. There were nine of us initiates last year. I bet there are about that many new again this year. I have no idea how many there are out in the world. Several thousand, I’d think? The Society has been around longer than the school. It never occurred to me to ask.”

  Inside, the decor is warm and inviting, as if someone took the words elegance and class and turned them into something physical. I feel like I’ve stepped through a portal into a place where everything feels rich without being gaudy, bold without being crass, opulent and alluring without trying to push me away.

  String music floats through the air from another room. We head down a hall toward it, the warm wood and thick carpet muffling the sounds of our steps. At the end of the hall, we step into a huge open room. A lavish spread of food fills several tables along the nearest wall, on which it looks like every taste imaginable has been seen to.

  A string quartet plays from an alcove at the back of the room. As we move through the room, Winter and Georgia peel off and say hello to friends. Roz makes a point of introducing me to everyone as we go.

  Everyone seems so at ease and happy. And the whole scene has a surreal feel because everyone—and I mean everyone—including the waiters and the musicians, are dressed like they stepped off the fashion show runway before coming here.

  I suddenly feel out of place, like an imposter crashing someone else’s party. I smooth my hands over my own dress that Maurice delivered today, telling myself that I belong here. The dress has three-quarter sleeves and is made of a stretchy black material that has a flower pattern woven through it. The flowers themselves are raised in the fabric, so it has a texture and weight. It’s form fitting through the waist, flares at my hips, and the skirt stops mid-thigh. The white lace collar breaks it up and gives the dress that ‘me’ touch that Maurice seems to have caught on to. I would never have picked this dress had I seen it in the store, but when I put it on, it was so exactly perfect. Like it was made for me… because it was.

  I want to shake this feeling of being an outsider. I remind myself that I was invited and I belong here, just like everyone else. The little voice inside my head whispers that I have no idea what I am doing, that my magic just sparked and I am going to make a fool of myself. But I push back against it… does it matter that my magic just sparked? It didn’t seem to when Daria North arrived with my invitation. And it didn’t seem to matter to Angus when we met…

  The music stops and everyone turns toward the back of the room where Daria North has appeared. She stands on a landing in the center of a wide staircase that curls gently as it rises to the second floor. Behind her, a navy blue banner hangs from the wall with the shield and the closed fist, and the four swords. I can see now that the fist is actually a metal gauntlet, like a medieval knight would wear.

  “Good evening everyone and welcome. I am glad to see so many of you here tonight. The Society of Ancient Magic has grown through the centuries and has taken on a life of its own. There is something special that glows around the edges of everything we do. It is no surprise that there is an air of mystique as well, and we embrace that because it is warranted. Ancient magic is, well… ancient.” She pauses with a smile and a gentle wave of laughter ripples through the room.

  “But Ancient magic is also powerful, more powerful than any of the other types of magic. That isn’t to say it’s more important, because we need all kinds of magic to survive. But without the original lines of Ancient Magic, there would be no magic at all.”

  I listen to her words and realize I have no idea what Ancient Magic actually is. I mean, the name tells me it�
�s old, but I don’t have an understanding of anything about it. I glance at the faces around the room. Everyone listening to Daria speak seems to be up to speed, so I guess I’ll be doing some extra reading on my own to get myself caught up. I turn to look at Daria again and my gaze freezes.

  Angus smiles at me from across the room. It feels like he’s been watching me and waiting for me to spot him because when our eyes meet, his smile spreads all the way across his gorgeous face.

  A rush of heat rises to my cheeks and I look away, catching the eye of Van, who is standing next to him. He’s watching me as well, his face at once broody and still. He looks miserable, like he doesn’t want to be here, and yet, here he is, like everyone else.

  His brows arch up slightly, and it changes his face. Turns him from brooding to curious, then to that open look I noticed before, as if he’s wondering if it is okay to let down his guard.

  Applause explodes through the room, breaking the moment. Van looks toward Daria and claps. I do the same though I missed the last part of what she said.

  Roz taps her champagne glass to mine. “It’s official, you’re an initiate now. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you for everything today. You’re the best,” I say.

  “Naw. You’re the best. I’ll swear on a stack of grimoires and fight anyone who disagrees.” She laughs but then her face turns more serious. “I’m really glad you’re here, Joely. I think this is going to be great.”

  Her smile is genuine and I have to swallow an emotional pang of gratitude. I know she was assigned to help me today, but I think I’ve found myself a new friend.

  Daria finds me in on the wide porch outside the ballroom. “I wasn’t sure we’d be seeing you after the way your father reacted. I am glad he came around, and I am glad you’re here.”