by Tara Lain
The four mages kept talking, but their voices faded. Jazz glanced toward the back of the alley. There was a fence at the end, but it appeared to connect to another business on the other side. He took off at a run, scaled the fence in one jump, and landed on the other side. Then he trotted to the street and checked his status.
Where am I?
He wasn’t a New Yorker, but he’d been coming to the city with Pop-Pop since he’d been adopted six years before. He strode to the corner and looked up. East Sixtieth Street.
Okay, I know where I am, but where the hell am I going?
He pulled out his phone and texted, You there?
It took a minute. Yep. Sup?
Almost got abducted from the club.
WTF?!!
Yeah. Too much like old times. Can’t come home. Odan is one of them. Be careful.
I doubt he wants me. What the hell does he want with you?
No clue.
Going to the Vanessen building?
Don’t want to get the family involved.
May have to. What about Lysandra?
Not sure who to trust. Need to know what’s going on.
How?
Time for a break-in.
Chapter Twenty-Two
DASH GLANCED around the table and tried not to sigh. Man, some of these dudes were dense. Of course, some of them aren’t, and that might be more worrisome. Both Anders and Childers Gerd had been assigned to this brainstorming session—the one on battle tactics—and they seemed to want to one-up each other in obnoxiousness. Even if he’d been able to get a word in, Dash wasn’t sure he wanted to give good ideas for battling an unknown enemy—an enemy Dash might consider a friend.
The Anders and Childers Show—yes, the names had inspired a few chuckles—were currently debating the relative merits of narrow versus wide energy blasts, and the other three people at the table, including Dash, were openly yawning.
In one of his sudden unteleported appearances, Hillebrand dragged a chair to the table and sat on it backward. “Okay, what have you come up with?”
Dash and the two others turned their heads and stared directly at Anders and Childers.
Anders stuttered, and Childers frowned. “Well, we were just weighing the pros and cons of narrow and wide-frame energy fields on the—”
Hillebrand waved a hand. “What works better, narrow or wide. Jules?” He looked at the striking woman at their table.
“Depends on the attack.”
“Correct. Dash?”
“Whatever works.”
“Precisely. So what are the ideas? Bowl me over.”
Dash waved a hand at Anders and Childers. “They were leading the discussion.”
“I see. So impress me.”
Anders and Childers stared at each other, and then both looked frantically at Jules and the other man, Sean, and finally four pairs of eyes turned to Dash.
Dash cleared his throat. “We thought orchestrating a barrage of narrow and wide-spread energy fields, each from a different mage, could provide a nearly unanswerable attack.”
Hillebrand frowned. “Well, yes. Excellent plan. We’ll implement that. Good job.” He bounded up and moved to the next table.
The five of them looked at each other.
Enough of this crap. Dash pushed away from the table and walked toward the exit from the club dining room. He wanted to leave. Gone. No more Arcantaria. Find Jazz. Give up magic if he had to. Just go.
“Dash?”
The sigh escaped very softly between his lips; then he turned and faced Hillebrand.
Hillebrand cocked his head and took Dash’s hands. “I’ve never seen you look so despondent.”
Dash shrugged. “I don’t want to sound—”
“Like a brilliant, privileged snob?”
Dash stared at him.
“Look, I know you were forced to cover for those cretins, and I’m sorry.”
Dash nodded and added a little prima donna attitude for the pure hell of it.
Hillebrand grabbed Dash’s arm, glanced around, and pulled him out of the room into the hallway. After another look about, he maneuvered them into a space under the staircase. He turned and put his palms on Dash’s bare forearms. Very handsy tonight, Professor Hillebrand.
Hillebrand said, “I want you to work with me, Dash. Just you. These other mages are amateurs. I’m sure they’ll have their value when push comes to shove, but you. You’re the one. Still, I need to know.” He released Dash and spun away dramatically, taking a huge, audible breath.
Dash said, “Need to know what?”
Hillebrand turned back and gazed at Dash. “Last summer you were involved in some kind of, shall we say, altercation with a mage. Am I correct?”
Oh, so that’s it. He’d thought, suspected, but…. “How did you know about that?”
Hillebrand smiled. “Well, I have a lot of contacts, as you know.”
“Sure, sure, I understand.” Holy gods. “So what about it?”
“Why did you do it?”
What does the good professor want to hear? Dash scowled. “Hell, the asshole kidnapped a friend of mine. When we managed to get my friend back, the dude gets huffy and comes and challenges us. Me. Whatever. Anyway, it took three of us, but we managed to do him in. They put the asshole in wizard jail.”
“So he’s, what? Some kind of subversive?”
Think carefully. “I don’t know, man. All I know is this guy tried to grab my friend.”
“I see. And if I told you that this dude, the asshole, is actually a genius mage who could really benefit the whole community, what would you say?”
“I’d say what the hell? Why’d he try to hurt my friend?”
“I heard he was interested in your friend’s talent.”
“So, what? He tried to collect him?”
Hillebrand chuckled. “I’m sure if I ever get a chance, I’ll ask.”
Dash shrugged.
“I wanted to be sure you weren’t some kind of philosophical traditionalist.”
“Me?” Dash made a scoffing sound. “Not bloody likely.”
Hillebrand slid an arm around Dash’s shoulders and drew him closer. “Then I see no impediment to our working very closely together.”
Don’t tense. Don’t tense. “I’ll look forward to it.” He didn’t pull away, but he also didn’t take advantage of the intimacy created by the half embrace.
After a suspended moment, Hillebrand squeezed Dash’s arm, then let go and stepped away. “Think about which classes you need the least. I’ll get you out of those so we can work on teleportation intensively. One forty-five-minute session in the morning won’t get you there in time.”
“Time?” Dash felt his eyebrows shoot up and he tried to soften his expression from alarm to interest.
“I mean in good time.” Hillebrand smiled. “So think about it and I’ll see you first thing in the morning.” He placed a warm hand on Dash’s cheek, although he had to reach up a bit to do it. His eyelids got heavier and his expression suggested the word languid. Not a usual vocabulary addition for Dash. Hillebrand said, “I’m already very proud of you, and I know that you’ll make me even prouder. But from here on, think of me as a colleague. A peer.” He extended his thumb and touched the corner of Dash’s mouth.
The tingle from the caress reminded Dash how little he’d been touched lately, and the suppressed shudder totally reinforced the truth that this dude was no one Dash wanted touching him. Still, he stood there and took it, partly because he’d never find out what the hell was going on if he made a stink and partly because he had no idea whom he’d complain to about sexual harassment.
Looking reluctant, Hillebrand dropped his hand and cleared his throat. “So I’ll see you tomorrow. Get some rest and be prepared for long hours of challenging work.”
Dash forced a smile as he nodded.
Hillebrand gave him one last searching glance, then turned and went back into the dining hall, which in turn would lead to the Olympus Club m
eeting room.
Dash collapsed back against the wall, letting the quiet and privacy of the spot under the stairs shield him. He gripped the bridge of his nose.
The snarling voice came from behind him. “Looks like you’ve taken your sexual conquests up in the world.”
Dash’s gasp could have been heard in the next state. He whirled toward what he had thought was a blank wall and whispered, “Jazz!”
From a hidden recess far back under the staircase, Jazz stepped out, his fair brows drawn tight over his slim nose and his hands balled into fists. “I’m surprised I kept getting the message that you’re lonely and miserable. You sure don’t look lonely to me.” He started to walk past Dash to who the hell knew where?
“Whoa.” Dash grabbed Jazz by the arm and pulled him back into the dark of their hiding place. “Oh my gods, where are you going? How did you get here?” He inhaled. “Why aren’t you kissing me right now?”
Jazz glowered at him. Even pissed he’s gorgeous. Jazz snapped, “Because you’re too busy kissing someone else?”
“No. He’s my teacher, and he’s involved in the whole mess here, and yes he’s trying to get into my pants, but that doesn’t mean I agreed or invited it and—oh hell!” He grabbed Jazz and closed his mouth over the only sweet lips he longed to kiss.
For a second, Jazz pulled back, but Dash held on. No point trying to haul Jazz in. That sinewy werewolf body was stronger than Dash would ever be, so without magic there was no way to hold Jazz—except with his heart.
Dash whispered, “Please believe me.”
Jazz stared at him for a second, then closed the space between them and threaded his fingers through Dash’s hair. As their mouths fused, Dash tried to make it totally clear that anything Jazz wanted or needed was what Dash wanted to give.
Their tongues caressed and explored. Hell, they’d kissed so few times before they got ripped apart, but sadly this wasn’t the right time either. More specifically, it wasn’t the right place.
Dash drew his lips away. “I can’t even believe you’re here, but in about a minute, the door across the hall’s going to open, and about twenty-five mages you don’t want to meet are going to emerge. The chances of missing us? Zero. So I’d say we need to move like bats.”
Jazz grinned. “Wolf not bat. Team Jacob.”
Dash snorted softly. “My room’s at the top of this very public stairway. Eighty-nine. You head up. If someone sees you, act like a student. Or better yet, a former student who used to attend Arcantaria and has come to visit me. Only former students are allowed in.”
Jazz stiffened. “They’re pushing back their chairs. See you up there.” Gone. If Dash didn’t know how fast Jazz could move, he’d have suspected teleportation.
As Dash walked out from under the stairs, the doors opened, and a couple of students exited, followed by Kitty and Anastasia.
Kitty waved a hand. “Hey. We wondered what happened to you.”
Dash glanced around, including a quick look up the stairs. No Jazz in sight. He lowered his voice. “Our group was so lame, I left. How were your tables?”
Kitty smiled. “Potions was terrific. We came up with some good ideas, but I’m sure sorry your group was bad.”
Anastasia asked, “Didn’t I see Hillebrand follow you when you left?”
“Yeah. He says he wants to work with me one-on-one even more than we are now.”
Anastasia frowned and whispered, “I’d be careful. I don’t like how he looks at you.”
He released a slow breath. “That makes two of us, but I’m not sure what to do. Who can stop him?”
“You, I guess.”
Dash bit the inside of his cheek. “I hate to piss him off when I’m dying to figure out what’s really going on around here, and I think he knows better than anyone.”
Anastasia leaned in close to his ear. “We don’t need to know so badly that you have to compromise yourself to find out.”
Kitty wrinkled her nose. “I’m not so sure. Whatever this is smells like a whole pile of compromise.”
Dash and Anastasia looked at each other. When Kitty thought the worst, things were bad.
Dash tried not to sound anxious. “I’m gonna go sleep. Maybe I’ll find out something useful tomorrow morning before I see you guys for breakfast.”
“Okay, but be careful.” Anastasia put a warm hand on his arm.
He covered her hand with his and squeezed. A tingle ran up his arm that reminded him of her power. With a smile, he bounded up the stairs at speed, climbing two at a time. He knew Jazz could hear him coming, so he tapped lightly, then went into his room and turned the lock on his door.
Nobody was there. Which was interesting considering the room consisted principally of a bed, a dresser, a straight-backed chair, and a closet so narrow it hardly held a few clothes, much less a six-foot-four-inch werewolf. Dash opened the closet door. Nobody. Weird.
“Come out, come out wherever you are.”
There was a footlocker-style trunk at the foot of Dash’s small bed where he kept extra clothes and books. Slowly, the lid opened, and out climbed Jazz, unfolding himself like an origami animal.
Dash shook his head and spoke softly. “How the hell did you get in there?”
Jazz grinned. “Magic.”
Dash stepped the two feet between them and gathered Jazz in his arms. “I’ve never been so glad to see anyone, but I’m scared for you. This place is riddled with weirdass crap. I’m not sure what they’ll do if they find you.”
Jazz backed up a foot and sat on the edge of Dash’s bed. “No worse than out there. I almost got abducted tonight. I couldn’t go home. I mean, back to my apartment.”
“Apartment? At Yale?” Dash sat next to him and wrapped a happy arm around Jazz.
Jazz rested his head for a second on Dash’s shoulder then looked up into Dash’s face. “No. Carla and I both transferred to NYU, mostly so we could all be together and try to rescue you.”
“Rescue me? How did you know I needed recuing, and way more to the point, how did you figure out where to find me?” He held up a hand. “And what do you mean abducted?” He breathed out. “Damn, this is hard.”
“We should probably take turns telling what we know. Is anybody likely to come in here?”
“Nobody’s ever walked in on me—when I’m here. People come in when I’m gone, though.”
“By people you mean wizards?”
Dash nodded.
Jazz puffed his cheeks. “Okay, first question. I can get you out of Arcantaria. Do you want to go?”
“How?”
“That wasn’t one of the multiple-choice answers.” He flashed a dimple.
“Uh, I guess not. Seriously, Jazz, there’s a lot of strange and scary shit going on around here, and I just found out tonight for sure—”
“That it has to do with Nardo. Yeah, I heard that little third degree from lover boy.”
Dash dropped his forehead on Jazz’s shoulder. “That dude is Professor Hillebrand. He’s the head of the Olympus Club.”
“So that’s what that meant?”
Dash raised his head. “What?”
“Never mind now. Go on.”
“He’s teaching me teleportation.”
“Among other things.” Jazz drew the eyebrows down again.
“Well, he just got serious about the other things tonight, and that’s part of my issue. I want to know exactly what he and the Olympus Club are planning, and I want to learn to teleport because not many mages can do it.”
“You mean like poof?” Jazz made an exploding gesture with his fingers.
“Yeah. But if Hillebrand tries to get any friendlier, I’ll turn him into the asshole he is. That’s assuming he doesn’t turn me to dust first. He’s pretty powerful, although I’ve beaten him a couple times.”
“Is there any way you can put him off?” Jazz crossed his arms and gazed at Dash through his lashes. “Like telling him you have a boyfriend?”
“I can try.” Dash nud
ged him. Man, it was almost impossible to believe Jazz was there.
Jazz sobered. “So what are you thinking? That they’re trying to break Nardo out?”
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.” Dash actually caught his breath. “Whew. That’s the first time I’ve said that out loud.”
“Is everybody here in on the plot?”
“No. There’s this club called Olympus. They pick people with special skills or talents and make a big deal out of inviting you to join, then swear you to twenty kinds of secrecy. Once you’re in, they start indoctrinating you. Protecting the community. Good of magery and all that crap.”
“Total setup.”
Dash nodded. “I’ve got a couple friends who’re in the club too. They’re great, and they think the whole thing is fishy as hell. Of course, they don’t know anything about Nardo.”
“You haven’t told them?”
“No. I don’t want to seem….” He shrugged. “I’m not sure who to trust. They might say something to somebody else. I don’t know.”
“So obviously this professor knows about what happened between you and Nardo, but he’s still trying to recruit you.”
“Yeah. You heard me trying to convince him I had no basic objection to Nardo beyond the fact that he tried to kidnap you and kill me.”
They both burst out laughing at the same time.
Jazz rocked back. “Right, aside from that, Mrs. Lincoln….” Jazz shook his head. “Do you really think he’s dumb enough to think you’re going to switch to Nardo’s side just like that?”
Dash wiped a hand over his face. “Maybe. There’s a lot of gigantic egos around this place, and the whole Olympus Club shtick is designed to stroke and magnify those egos. He probably believes I’m such a narcissist that I’ll do anything to prove I’m the best.” He shrugged. “Or maybe he’s just planning to kill me.”
Jazz side-eyed him. “Yeah. Or maybe Nardo is.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
DASH GAZED at Jazz—his friend. His boyfriend. Not that they’d ever been able to enjoy that status. They’d barely discovered that they cared about each other—that way—when Dash had to leave for Arcantaria. And with all the crap that had been going on since, hell, they might not live long enough to ever explore the finer points of a relationship. “Can we go back to the part where you almost got abducted?”