Royals of Villain Academy 3: Sinister Wizardry

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Royals of Villain Academy 3: Sinister Wizardry Page 14

by Eva Chase


  Watching them in their obvious distress, my stomach knotted. In some ways, this was my fault. I’d come up with this idea; I’d decided I could beat all the other fearmancers in the school, direct not one but several Naries, and create some sort of permanent haven for them. I’d only had a few months to get a handle on my magic. Maybe I’d taken on too much, gotten in over my head…

  It wouldn’t be the first time I’d gone careening way over a line I should never have crossed. The thought of Malcolm in the boathouse two days ago, the way I’d welcomed his passion when he’d first come in, made my stomach turn.

  I’d pushed these people so far for my goals, and now they were devastated, and I couldn’t even step in and tell them I had their backs. I couldn’t even promise, openly or not, that I’d make sure they could see this endeavor through. It could be I’d pumped them up for nothing but a whole lot of failure.

  The doubts stole my breath. I backed up a step. Should I just let it go now? I obviously couldn’t protect this project the way I needed to in order to ensure they ever finished the building…

  But as I grappled with the idea of retreating, Benjamin stepped toward the others. “We can’t let them take this away from us,” he said, his voice raw.

  The other guy from his class stared at him. “You think it was—?”

  “I think those assholes had something to do with it. They can’t stand the thought that we’d have our own place. That’s why we needed this so fucking much.” He kicked at the grass in a futile gesture.

  “So, what can we do about it?” the girl said, swiping at her eyes. Tear tracks glinted on her cheeks. “I don’t want to give up. I wanted this to work so badly. But… look at it.”

  I swallowed hard, watching them. I could see how much this project had come to mean to them on every face, in every stance. Maybe it’d been my idea, maybe I’d nudged them into taking it on, but the pain they were feeling right now, I hadn’t conjured. They were upset because having this safe place amid the hostility they faced here truly mattered that much to them.

  I drew up my chin. I’d dangled that hope in front of them. I’d gotten them this far. It might have been crazily ambitious of me, but I was the goddamned heir of Bloodstone, powerful in all four domains of magic, and I would make this thing work. Because I owed them. Because it was the one really good thing I’d started to do here.

  Just let the other fearmancers try to stop me.

  I walked back to the central buildings, but once I reached them I found a spot on my own and turned to watch the Naries again. “It’s just a setback, that’s all,” I said under my breath, focusing on Benjamin. “You know you’ve got enough time to start over. You can start clearing away the wrecked pieces right now. The workers will start over—they’re committed.”

  Or at least, they would be after I’d worked some persuasive magic on them too.

  First, though, I had to rebuild my protections—and build them better—so no one shattered the building efforts all over again. I nibbled at my lower lip, thinking over the various strategies I’d read about in my research over the last few weeks. The one I’d used had seemed like the best option. Was there something I could add to it?

  Maybe I just had to re-power the spells more often? If it’d help keep this site secure, I’d set an alarm to get out there in the middle of the night as well as however many times it took during the day.

  The Naries had started lugging the boards off of the cracked base, tossing them into a heap to the side of the site. Obviously Benjamin had passed on the inspiration I’d sent into his head. I eased closer again, giving the site a wide berth but studying the grassy landscape around it as I considered the possibilities.

  Footsteps whispered through the grass toward me. I looked up to see Connar coming to join me, his hands slung in the pockets of his slacks, his face set in that cautiously hopeful expression it often had around me these days. After his openness with me out at the Shifting Grounds, his presence didn’t make me tense up anymore. Right now I needed to strategize, not talk, though.

  As Connar had apparently already figured out. He stopped beside me, took in the clubhouse site and the field around it, and glanced my way. “So this is your take on the summer project, huh?”

  “Is it that obvious?” I said, a little warmth creeping into my cheeks. I’d been trying to keep my involvement secret, but I couldn’t say that subterfuge was necessarily one of my strong points.

  He chuckled softly. “Knowing you, I could make an educated guess. I think a lot of other people are starting to catch on, though, because of the scale and the direction you’re going in. There aren’t many students here who’d come up with an idea this ambitious that’ll make it harder for anyone to harass the Naries.”

  “Which is exactly why they need a place where no one can,” I muttered, and let out a sigh. All right, so the cat was out of the bag. Connar didn’t sound as if he was bothered by the direction I’d taken. He had offered to help me with my magic before. With Physicality, though—I wasn’t sure that was the angle I needed to take here. My previous protective spells had been a mix of illusion and persuasion.

  “I need to figure out how to stop the others from wrecking this all over again,” I went on with a subtle tip of my head toward the demolished structure. “I had wards up to warn me about magic being cast and to try to drive people away, but they didn’t work well enough, obviously.”

  Connar nodded and wet his lips. “Do you… want some help?”

  His uncertainty about how I’d respond to his offer sent a twinge of affection through me. “Sure. If you’ve got ideas, I’m happy to hear them. And if you don’t mind supporting someone else’s bid for the win.”

  He gave me a crooked smile. “Somehow I don’t think seeing this thing built is about winning the contest for you. And even if it was, I’d rather see you take it. How did you handle your original wards?”

  He listened thoughtfully as I explained the pieces I’d brought together and my reasoning, with a hum here and a nod there. When I finished, he turned and motioned for me to follow him. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Just to the forest. It’ll be easier to find what we’re looking for there.” He walked a few paces past the first trees and then scanned the ground. After a moment, he bent by a jutting root and picked up a rock about the size of his palm. “That’s got a good heft. Look for more like that or even a little bigger. If you want something to act as an anchor, it works better if it’s got some literal weight to it.”

  “An anchor?” I repeated, brushing the dirt off the rock and dropping it into my purse.

  “You’ve been fixing your spells to the ground in general,” Connar said, moving on with his search. “That works, but the energy tends to disperse faster when it’s not tied to a specific object. And you can concentrate the magic for a stronger effect when you have a concrete thing you’re imbuing. We can even reshape them so they’ll conduct the energy more effectively.”

  That fit with some of what I’d read. A powerful mage could imbue the right object with a spell that could last centuries, like my puzzle garden. But—

  “I just figured it’d be a lot easier for someone to displace them, if they can spot the object I’ve tied the spell to. Having the magic spread across the ground makes it harder to target a counterspell.” I crouched to pick up a rock.

  “True. But I think you can get around that. Embed a few of them in the dirt right before they pour the concrete again, for example. No one will be able to dig them out easily then, but you’ll know where they are if you need to boost the spells.”

  “Right. I should have thought of that.” They’d just been nowhere near the concrete pouring stage when I’d first set up my wards.

  “You’re new at this,” Connar said calmly. “You’ll get a better handle on what works best for any given situation as you gain more experience.”

  “As people keep telling me. I guess it’s pretty obvious how far behind
I still am.”

  Connar stopped abruptly and swiveled to face me. “You’ve been doing amazing, Rory. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. Who else would even have tried to take on a project like that?” He waved toward the field.

  Warmth bloomed in my chest at the compliment, but I found it hard to fully accept. “I think it matters more whether I actually pull it off. Ambition isn’t much good without follow-through.”

  “Without ambition, there’s nothing to follow through on, is there?” He picked up another rock and brought it over to me. His fingers brushed mine as I took it from him, with flickers of a different sort of warmth that were fanned by the appreciation in his eyes. “You’ve already gotten pretty damn far. And I’ll help you make the rest of it happen. There’s no harm in calling on allies.” He grinned.

  I’d always loved the way that bright smile could transform his chiseled face from something handsome but grim to absolutely stunning. Its effect on him and on me hadn’t changed. My pulse fluttered as I smiled back at him. “You really don’t have to do this,” I said.

  “Haven’t I made it clear enough that I want to?”

  It would have been the perfect moment for him to lean in and kiss me. If all the awfulness between us had never happened, he probably would have. As it was, he motioned for me to sit down next to him. “Shaping conducting pieces definitely falls into my domain. I’ll show you the elements you need for a good ward anchor.”

  He took one of the stones back from me and cupped it in his hands. “We want this part more rounded and hollowed for the right resonance of containment,” he said, the enthusiasm of sharing his knowledge animating his voice. “And a point protruding at the bottom to steady it.”

  I leaned close as he talked me through the process step by step, transforming that one stone carefully before my eyes and then watching while I worked with one myself. His hand brushed mine again when he made a small suggestion. In the midst of my concentration, my shoulder came to rest against his. He nodded, his head bowed close to mine.

  “That’s perfect,” he said softly when I’d finished.

  I looked up at him, and an eager quiver ran through me at his nearness, his light blue eyes fixed on mine. The memory of how it felt to be held by him rose up with a rush of eager warmth. I couldn’t say I had any doubts left about whether this change of heart was genuine. He’d thrown his lot in with me completely.

  But, damn, it’d been bad enough a couple months ago when I’d been grappling with my attraction to both Declan and Jude. Those feelings hadn’t faded, not really, even if I was reining them in with both guys, and something in me had sparked with Malcolm, as much as I hated that it had. Now, to feel drawn back to Connar on top of all that… What the hell was wrong with me? How could I be caught up in four different guys all at the same time?

  I ducked my head, shame prickling over my skin. “Maybe you shouldn’t be here. I’m a mess, Connar. You have no idea… I have no idea what I want. Or maybe it’s that I want too many different things.” I exhaled with exasperation. “It doesn’t really seem fair to pull you into that.”

  “Rory.” He touched my cheek, just lightly, but that gentle touch sent tingles through my whole body. “Look at who you’re talking to. You want to talk about messes? You can’t get much messier than me. The way we’re raised, the kind of people we’re supposed to grow up to be—I’d be surprised if there’s anyone on campus who isn’t some kind of mess. I don’t mind. I’m not here because I expect anything from you. However much you want me is all I care about—and I’ll take that as it is.”

  The tender warmth that had spread through me before stretched even further, filling my throat, wrapping around my lungs. I rested my hand on his chest tentatively.

  Accepting everything he was offering wouldn’t hurt him. It shouldn’t hurt me either. That was more than I could say for any of the other guys right now. Connar had been the first one to really understand me.

  And God, I was getting so tired of having to pull back, to walk away, to tell myself no. I didn’t want to go rushing in right back to where we’d left off… but I could allow myself a little indulgence, couldn’t I?

  “I do want you,” I said quietly, raising my eyes. When he dipped his head, I lifted mine to meet him. And his kiss was every bit as sweet as I remembered.

  Once we’d started, I didn’t want to stop. One kiss slid into another, each deeper and more tender than the last. I hadn’t really remembered what it was like to kiss a guy I was allowed to want, who I couldn’t ruin and who wasn’t out to ruin me. The joy of it took my breath away.

  I couldn’t let it overwhelm me, though. Getting lost in the heat of the moment had gotten me into too much trouble already. I let myself lean into one more kiss, reveling in the press of Connar’s mouth, and then I drew back, tipping my head against his shoulder instead. He clasped my hand. For a few minutes, we just sat there in companionable silence.

  A thread of tension ran through my sense of peace. I shouldn’t be getting comfortable at all. The conflicts of life here on campus had distracted me from my bigger concerns for too long. Professor Banefield’s key was still tucked in my purse, unused.

  Thanks to Connar, soon my project site would be much better protected. Protected enough that I could risk leaving campus for long enough to do some more investigating.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jude

  As I stood in the entranceway of the New York City brownstone, waiting for the upper apartment to answer my buzz, my heart thumped away at an erratic rhythm. My attempts to will it into evening out had little effect.

  My mission here really was a silly thing to get nervous about. Sure, I didn’t have the slightest idea whether I really would be able to convince the man living in that apartment to go along with my plan, and if he did and we were found out, we could both be punished harshly under fearmancer law. I might be expelled from Blood U on top of that. And then there was the whole matter of my relationship with Rory possibly riding on this act.

  But really, when you cut it down to the core of the matter, I was a Killbrook calling on a close family friend for a favor well within his expertise, and that sort of thing was standard practice. I’d never really liked claiming benefits through the Killbrook name, not since I’d found out it wasn’t really mine, but if I was going to lose it soon enough, I might as well take advantage of it while I could.

  Since I’d called Dr. Wolfton to arrange this appointment, he was expecting me. The door to the stairway unlocked with a click, no inquiring voice crackling through the intercom. I started up at a brisk pace. If he agreed, we might even see this mission through today.

  I’d never visited the doctor at his home before. He was a regular guest at the Killbrook Manor, a close friend of Dad’s from college whose placid demeanor always set Mom at ease too. No doubt he’d been dropping in on them even more than usual the last few months while I’d been at school, overseeing the early stages of Mom’s pregnancy.

  In the years since I’d made my world-upending discovery, I’d sometimes wondered how involved Dr. Wolfton might have been in my parents’ initial attempts at producing a child. Did he know just how much they’d struggled, just how clear it’d become that they were unlikely to ever conceive? Had he ever suspected that my arrival, therefore, might have involved some trickery?

  I’d studied him closely during many visits since then, and I’d never seen any sign in his attitude toward me that he saw me as a sort of interloper. The cautious insight spells I’d tried on him hadn’t revealed any wariness. Actually, he was much more likely to laugh at my more cutting jokes and ask me with genuine interest how my studies were going than many of my parents’ friends.

  If he’d known the full extent of their difficulties, he must have thought my mother’s first pregnancy was as much a bit of unexpected luck as her current one.

  Dr. Wolfton opened the door as I reached his floor, smiling his usual calm smile. His whole aura was so soothing I found it hard to ima
gine how he ever generated enough fear to fuel his magic, but maybe he could turn on the menace as needed. Or he might make extensive use of his familiar. Unlike most fearmancers, he’d opted for a non-predator animal, but in a city mostly inhabited by Naries, a rat could generate plenty of panic just by making an appearance in a nearby apartment.

  “Jude,” he said in his equally calm voice. “Come on in. I’m curious to hear this mysterious request of yours.”

  When I’d called him, he’d offered to come by the school so we could talk, but I’d told him I’d thought it’d be better somewhere there was less chance of us being overheard—that the topic was somewhat “sensitive.” Now I just had to find the right way to pitch it to him. Thankfully I should be able to count on my magic for that. Insight was my one other true strength, and one from past experience I knew Dr. Wolfton either couldn’t or didn’t bother shielding against very carefully.

  “Thanks for letting me come over,” I said, figuring it couldn’t hurt to lead with politeness.

  He ushered me into an apartment with a weird contrast of grand moldings, fine architectural stylings, and totally modest furnishings. “Can I get you anything to drink?” he asked.

  I sank down on his linen sofa. “I think I’m all right. Might as well cut to the chase, right?”

  He sat across from me in an armchair, his gaze intent. To him, I wasn’t just the son of his best friend but a scion and one of his future barons, I reminded myself. He’d want to make me happy if he could.

  “What’s this about?” he said.

  I clasped my hands on my lap. “I have a favor to ask. A medical favor. Someone I’d like you to perform a magical treatment on… but it would have to be done without them realizing any magic was used.”

  Dr. Wolfton’s eyebrows rose. The hesitation that crossed his face made my gut twist.

  “It would be for their benefit,” I added quickly. “It’s only that—the person in question is a Nary. That’s why the secrecy.”

 

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