Fiendish Magic

by L. A. Sable

  Something shifted inside of me. The same power that Bastian had exerted to toy with my senses was pushed back toward him. He let out a surprised gasp as the magic surged through him, both pleasure and pain so wrapped up together that it was impossible to tell one from the other.

  A slash of pink appeared across his throat as if a knife had been pressed there with enough force to leave a slight welt. Pain twisted his features, and I knew without having to ask that the same sensations he had subjected me to minutes before were now what he was experiencing.

  It was as if his magic moved in reverse, forced back into him like waves pulling back from the beach before a typhoon.

  Almost as soon as it began, the flow stopped. Bastian pulled away from me, both physically and with his magic, bring up the mental walls that separated us from each other.

  “What the actual fuck?” he gasped, as our eyes met. We had both fallen to our knees, which made our gazes level. I saw both confusion and burgeoning fear in the silver depths of his eyes.

  I hadn’t ever been able to control my power, not since the very first moment that it awakened inside me. Often, things happened that I didn’t anticipate or even desire, but I could always feel it there on the edges tantalizing me.

  “You’re not hurt, are you?” I asked, voice a husky whisper. In the aftermath, it felt like too much effort to raise my voice.

  “That wasn’t a protection spell. That wasn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before.”

  “You wanted me to stop you and I did.” I pushed to my feet, determined to keep him from sensing just how little I understood what just happened. I had even less control of my powers than I’d thought. “You should be happy.”

  But Bastian continued to watch me as if I’d grown a second head. “That wasn’t the protection spell I gave you. In fact, judging by the fact that you didn’t say a word, that wasn’t a spell at all.”

  “I’ve never been good at spell casting, so I had to wing it.”

  “Wing it,” Bastian repeated slowly, as if the words were in a foreign language. “What does that mean exactly?”

  “I’ve never had any training.” It was a struggle to keep the note of bitterness out of my voice. “So my powers are unpredictable. I don’t get what you’re so upset.”

  “I am not upset.” His eyes narrowed further as he stared up at from where he still knelt on the floor. It was impossible to read the expression in his eyes, so silver that they seemed to shift in the light like liquid. “But I want to know how you did that.”

  “A magician never reveals her secrets.” The joke sounded lame even to me.

  “Is that what you are?” Bastian rose smoothly to his feet until he was towering over me. “Magicians are humans who’ve learned a few parlor tricks. Unless there’s a rabbit up your sleeve, I’m not buying it.”

  “You’re not a witch so you couldn’t possible know anything about the kinds of magic we possess.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You have no idea what I know.”

  The assessing look on his face was enough to worry me. He looked at me like I was a specimen in a lab that he wanted to pick apart to see how all my pieces fit together. “If we’re done, then I’m going to go.”

  His hand slammed up on the wall on the side of me closest to the door, blocking my exit. “Not so fast. I’m not nearly finished with you yet.”

  My heart rate picked up as I stared into his preternaturally gorgeous face from mere inches away. There was a no way to physically best him and I didn’t have enough control over my magic to rely on it. “Let me go.”

  “Or what?” he asked conversationally. “You’ll pull out another trick?”

  “Something like that.”

  He leaned closer until I felt the whisper of his breath along my skin as he spoke. “Do you want to know what I think?”

  I tried to turn away but his other arm rose to block me from that side until he had me completely trapped in the circle of his arms. Fear was the only logical response to the situation, but I couldn’t stop the curl of desire that moved through me. “I bet you’re going to tell me.”

  A humorless smile twisted his lips for the briefest moment. “You don’t have any idea how you did that, do you?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Bullshit.” He said the word pleasantly, more of an observation than an accusation, but calling me out just the same. “You looked even more surprised than I did.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Am I?” His brow quirked in obvious amusement. “If you’re in control, then prove it. Show me what you can do.”

  “I don’t have to show you anything.” The words were meant to sound cutting but I couldn’t stop the breathy note in my voice. “Now, let me go.”

  “Only if you make me.” His face leaned closer until his mouth glided ever so lightly across my skin. “I’m not letting you go until you show me something worth seeing.”

  I tensed in anticipation of more pain, but Bastian appeared to have something else in mind. His mouth, impossibly hot against the cool of his skin, grazed my cheek and then moved lower to the bend of my neck. A thrill of pleasure coursed up my spine, and it took everything in me to push at his chest instead of wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Stop it.”

  “Not until you make me.” He caught both my wrists and pressed them back against the solid wall behind me, grip tight enough that his hands might as well have been shackles. “You stopped me once before. All you have to do is accomplish the same feat again.”

  I could have head-butted him or kneed him in the crotch, but I didn’t do either of those things. Instead, I let his mouth trace the fragile skin above the pulsebeat in my neck as my mind whirled. “I’m warning you.”

  “And I’m shaking.” He leaned back to stare at me, expression heated. “I felt your power, little witch. And the Fae understand magic better than anyone else on this side of the veil. Do you want to know what I think of it?”

  Curiosity quickly won out over any hesitancy to admit to the weakness of ignorance. “Tell me.”

  “Not so fast, pretty.” Bastian inclined his head to the side, eyes sparkling with merriment. For a moment, I saw the dark and shimmering expanse of the Summerlands reflected in his eyes. “Knowledge always has a price.”

  It was obvious that I’d regret asking but couldn’t stop myself. “What do you want?”

  “A kiss.” His smile widened at the outrage in my expression. “Give me a kiss and I’ll answer the question that I see burning in your eyes.”

  Kissing him would be among the dumbest things it was possible for me to do, I knew that. “How do I know you’ll tell me the truth?”

  He actually looked offended. “The Fae don’t lie, everyone knows that.”

  “But they spin the truth in circles until it’s all twisted up and you can barely tell it from a lie.”

  “True enough.”

  “One kiss,” I clarified, glaring at him. “That’s it?”

  He grinned in open anticipation. “One and done.”

  “Fuck, fine. Just let go of me.”

  As I leaned closer to him, Bastian released my wrists. My hands rose to steady myself against his chest as I stood on tiptoe to press my lips against his in a chaste kiss. When I tried to back away, he grabbed my upper arms with a grip like iron and yanked me closer. He took control of the kiss, deepening it until his tongue tickled along the edges of mine. And he kisses me with the skill and single-minded intensity of someone who didn’t know how to do anything in half-measure.

  His mouth tasted like the cold of winter mixed with a spicy sweetness that I couldn’t place. The flavor of his mouth and the pressure of his fingers along my skin sent a thrill of electricity down my spine. Instead of pulling away again, I leaned further into him until only his supporting hands on my arms kept me upright.

  He finally broke the kiss after it seemed like an impossible amount of time had passed. Even once our lips no longer touched, I still felt the pr
essure of his kiss on my mouth. Like the memory was so strong it became indistinguishable from a physical sensation.

  “You taste like power,” he whispered against my lips before pulling away.

  I made a show of scrubbing the back of my hand across my mouth as if I could wipe the taste of him away, even though I knew that spicy flavor would remain for hours.

  “I hope you’re happy,” I said sarcastically, even as the feel of his mouth still burned on mine. “Now hold up your end of the deal. Tell me what you sensed in me.”

  “But you haven’t yet held up your end of the bargain.” The mocking smile on his face resembled that of the Cheshire cat. “I appreciate the effort, but I never said that I wanted a kiss on the mouth.”

  It took a moment for the what he said to sink in, and when it did, it was impossible to tell if lust or anger was the first thing I felt. “Hell, no.”

  He was openly laughing at me now. “Any deal, especially with the Fae, should be ironclad. Never leave anything open to interpretation.”

  I shoved at him. “Forget it. You probably don’t know anything, anyway.”

  “Just this once, I’ll take pity on you.” For a moment, there was absolutely no levity in his gaze and he stared at me with deadly earnest. “But remember what I said, learn how to make a deal before you bargain for anything around here or you’ll suffer for it.”

  A shiver worked its way down my spine and this time the reaction was only a fearful awareness. “Understood. Now spill, or I’m walking.”

  “Think of magic like an invisible river flowing through the world. Those of us able to access it will sip from it like we’re taking a drink, just a little bit at a time and not enough to disrupt the flow.” He stared down at me like he’d never seen me before, a mixture of awe and wariness on his face. “You’re like a fork in that river, drawing magic into yourself in a way that I’ve never seen before, more power than should even be possible, power that isn’t actually yours to command.”

  The deadly serious force of his words sent an itching sensation along my skin. A sense that was almost like impending doom washed over me as I stared into mercurial eyes that had gone more solemn than seemed possible for him.

  I tried for levity, if just to hide my unease. “So you’re saying I’m a bad witch? Tell me something that my own parents haven’t said a million times before.”

  A brief smile touched his lips before they returned to a grim line. “You’re like a wound in the magical framework, draining bits of it away in a way that shouldn’t be possible. I’ve never felt anything quite like it before.”

  “You sound afraid.”

  “Concerned might be a more appropriate word.” He shrugged, but continued to study me from only inches away. “You’re either the most powerful witch the world has seen in centuries, or you’re a ticking time bomb.”

  “Does that mean you think I stand a chance of surviving Valentine?”

  “Probably not.”

  I shoved off from the wall, forcing myself out of the circle of his arms. “I assume that means we’re done here. Thanks for nothing.”

  He grabbed my upper arms with fingers that might as well be a circle of iron, preventing me from leaving. “I find myself fascinated, like I’m looking at the pieces of a puzzle scattered on the floor and all I want to do is put them back together.”

  Before I could respond, his lips had captured mine again in a searing kiss. He tasted like sweet mint and springtime until his teeth nipped at my lower lip and I tasted blood.

  “What are you?” he whispered against my mouth.

  His hands pushed under the skirt of my dress, stroking over the heated skin of my thighs. A searching hand teased at my folds through the thin cotton of my soaked panties before pushing inside slightly through the fabric. I let out a moan.

  “And what is this?”

  I shoved him away to see Darius glaring at us from the open doorway, a dark scowl on his face. Bastian took a quick step back as if he’d been burned, but there was no expression of shock or embarrassment on his face.

  “We’re in the middle of training, Headmaster Aquinas.” His tone was polite with just the barest hint of laughter in his eyes. “She’s working on mastering a defensive position.”

  Darius narrowed his eyes, an anger that seemed out of proportion to the situation burning in his eyes. “That will be all for today. A class requires this space for the rest of the afternoon.”

  “Of course.” Bastian turned back to me with a wink. “Maybe we can finish this later tonight.”

  But Darius interrupted with a glower. “You are otherwise engaged this evening, Acolyte Val’ey. Or had you forgotten?”

  Some secret communication passed between them, as if they were having a silent conversation that didn’t include me. Neither Bastian’s expression of wide-eyed innocence or the scowl on Darius’s face made much sense to me, but there was a palpable tension between them.

  “I guess we’ll keep working another time.” I waited for a response but they continued to stare at each other as if I wasn’t even still in the room. It was time to go.

  I slipped past Darius, almost expecting him to grab me, but he barely acknowledged me at all, his remaining locked on Bastian. As the door shut behind me, I caught a glimpse of Darius striding across the room toward Bastian, getting close enough that their faces practically touched. Bastian caught me watching and his lip quirked ever so slightly before the door shut completely and they disappeared from view.

  If I hadn’t known better, I would have said that the look on Darius’s face when he caught Bastian and I together looked just like jealousy.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jinx

  I hadn’t made it more than halfway up the stairs of House Essence before running into the Three Fates. At least, I would have run into them if I hadn’t instinctively grabbed for the handrail when they suddenly appeared in front of me.

  “Nice cloaking spell,” I blurted out before I could stop myself, looking up into three identically stony faces. “I didn’t even hear you.”

  Primrose acknowledged that with a smirk. She was standing in the center of their triad with her arms crossed over her chest as she glared down at me from the step above. “I hope you realize that was the point.”

  “That’s giving her too much credit,” Amaranth scoffed.

  Maeve made a face like she had just seen a rat scurry across the floor. “I don’t think I’ve met a witch out of diapers who couldn’t see through a simple cloaking spell.”

  If there was one thing I loved, it was the constant reminders of all how I was completely inadequate as a witch. I wanted nothing more than to slap the smiles off their faces, but I was sorely outnumbered and the most likely result would be me waking up next week after getting hexed into oblivion. “You ladies sure do know how to take a compliment.”

  “What are you doing right now?” Primrose asked with a frown.

  I made a point of looking up and down the staircase. “Playing foosball. What does it look like?”

  It was obvious from their faces that none of them got the joke, likely because they’d never laid eyes on a foosball table much less heard the word before.

  “Have you always been this strange or has being away for so long addled your mind?” Primrose asked, gaze passing over me with mild interest.

  “I’m flattered you don’t think it can be both. My mother always told me I was a special sort.” My weight shifted from one foot to the other as I contemplated the wisdom of trying to slip past them. I had the sinking suspicion that I was moments away from being shoved down the stairs. “But you know how mothers are.”

  “I don’t, actually.” Primrose responded tonelessly. “My mother died in childbirth. I’m told that I absorbed much of her power before she died.”

  My mouth opened and closed while I searched for an appropriate response. I’d probably been distantly aware of the fact that Primrose’s mother was dead, but the knowledge hadn’t been accessible enough to
prevent me from putting my foot in my mouth. “I’m sure she’d be very proud of you.”

  “Indeed.”

  I waited for another few excruciating moments as the three of them stared down at me. When I finally realized that they didn’t have any intention of moving, I leaned back against the side wall. “Did you guys need something?”

  “Your presence is required.” Primrose clasped her hands in front of her and cocked her head to the side, expression wary. “We’ve decided to give you the chance to prove yourself.”

  “Prove myself?” I repeated.

  “If you can.” Amaranth’s grim smile was enough to send shivers up my spine.

  “Do we really have to do this now?” I asked with a heavy sigh. If they were going to try to kill me, I’d have preferred it happened when I wasn’t about to fall asleep on my feet.

  “Follow us.” Without waiting for a response, Primrose turned on her heel and disappeared into the shadows at the top of the stairs, the other two witches right behind her. Her disembodied voice hovered in the darkness. “Now, apostate.”

  I really wanted to tell all three of them to screw themselves, but for once in my life decided restraint was better than impulse. I still hadn’t figured out how I was going to survive here, but pissing off the most powerful witches in the school wouldn’t be the best way to do it. They already had reason enough to want to hurt me.

  And if I didn’t follow them now, there was a good chance they’d be coming after me later.

  To my surprise, they were waiting for me in the hallway outside the closed door of my room. As soon as I unlocked the door, Primrose shoved past me and into the room.

  “I’d forgotten how much this room looks like a prison cell,” Maeve murmured, voice heavy with disgust. “I swear you can hear the rats moving in the walls.”

  “It was a cell at one point,” Amaranth points out with a malicious grin. “They used to lock students up in here as punishment. There are still shackles attached to the wall somewhere.”