The man leaned closer still, and I prepared myself for the inevitable.
“And so will you,” he said, his dark brown stare pinned on me as he reached toward the door that wasn’t there.
Help, I thought just as the gruff-voiced man was about to pierce the illusion.
Then, in a flash, he was gone.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cece
A very confused and ash-covered Aidan looked at me, his dusty face framed by the armored knights at his back. The marble burned in my palm, and I realized what had happened. The men hadn’t disappeared.
We had.
“It’s a long story,” I said, looking down at my clenched fist.
“Then give me the short version.”
I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. “I think...I think it’s the ball. I think it teleports people, or whatever.”
He looked over his shoulder at a sound in the distance, then turned his narrowed eyes back to me.
“And why do you think that?” I could tell by his tone that he already had his suspicions. No sense in lying now.
“Because it was with Maddy and me when we were in the secret library room. One second we were there, panicking, and the next, we were in my room.” He stared at me, and I waited for his anger to unleash—but it never came. “It might have also happened when you were outside my room and I didn't want to deal. That’s how I ended up in the attic.”
His jaw flexed and a flash of anger surged, then faded away, leaving surprise and worry in its wake.
“You and I can have a talk about when not to withhold information later,” he replied, grabbing my hand to drag me down the hall behind him. His long strides were hard to keep up with when walking, and it only worsened when he broke out in a sprint. “We need to hurry.”
Headed for the residential section of the reformatory with a sense of urgency that grew with every step we took, we ran under the cover of his glamour until his door came into sight. With a quick punch of numbers, it opened, and we all but dove in. He shut it and waved his hand over the handle. An extra locking precaution? I didn’t know and didn’t have time to ask. I was too busy being dragged into the bathroom behind Aidan.
“Get in,” he said as he reached into the shower and turned it on. When I didn’t move, he spun me until I faced the mirror. What looked back at me was truly terrifying. I looked like I'd been caught in a sandstorm, except the sand was the remains of the missing Wadsworth kids, and maybe others, too. Aidan pushed back the shower curtain, then took me by the elbow. He stepped in first, fully dressed, and pulled me into the still-cold stream behind him. I squealed as the icy water pelted my dirty face. “We need to clean up,” he said as he whipped his shirt over his head. Dirt ran down his chest in rivulets, and I couldn’t help but stare; partly because there was nothing else to look at, crammed in the shower with him, and partly because it was one helluva sight to behold, and the perfect distraction from the panic threatening to rise inside me again.
I tried to reach around him to grab the soap, but I couldn’t—not without rubbing up against his naked torso. He watched my struggle with what I could only assume was smug delight, but I didn’t know. I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze to confirm.
Eventually I said ‘fuck it’ and leaned around him to grab it. In my frenzy to get the job done, the bar shot out of my grip and hit the floor. Fantastic.
“First time bathing?” he asked as he bent down and handed me the bar. “You need to get that...stuff off of you.”
I appreciated his euphemism. Denial and distraction were the only ways I’d hold it together until I found Maddy and we figured out how to get out of Wadsworth before it was too late, Council be damned.
“I’m trying,” I snapped, wagging the soap in his face. I started scrubbing it over my shirt, to no avail. The ashes clung to the fabric, a dark reminder of what we’d found.
Clearly, I needed a bigger distraction.
“Forget your clothes,” he said, taking the soap from me. I started to argue, but the second I opened my mouth, his jeans fell to the shower floor, and my tongue went still at the sight of him in his boxer briefs. “C’mon,” he said like I was slow on the uptake, “you can’t clean up with all your clothes on—or is that how you normally do it?”
I bit back my retort and grabbed the hem of my shirt. I knew his eyes were on me, but I didn’t care. I was scared and pissed, and that was the perfect combo to fuel my zero-fucks behavior—the best distraction ever. The soaked fabric smacked down on top of his pants with a wet thud. I stood before him in my bra and jeans and stared in silence.
A dare. A challenge.
His gaze stayed fixed on me, his pupils dilated.
My mud-covered jeans were next, but this time, I watched him watch me as I wiggled my way out of the clinging fabric, leaving me in my underwear. His hand moved in rhythmic circles across his chest and abs as I looked on brazenly.
“You gonna share that thing?” I asked, trying to stare at the soap in his hands and nothing else—which was hard given the god of a fey boy standing only inches from me in all his half-naked glory.
He leaned in close, water streaming from his chin to land on my bra-covered chest, and pressed the soap into my hand.
“Gladly.”
“Thanks,” I replied, holding fast against his intimidating presence. Against the strength in his body and voice and the effect they had on me in that moment.
“Anything else I can do for you, little witch?” he asked, his words low and raspy in my ear.
“I think you’ve done enough tonight,” I said, turning carefully in the tight space. Letting out a hard exhale, I scrubbed the dirt from my face and neck. When I tilted my head back to rinse, it met something solid. My eyes flew open to find Aidan staring down at me, blue eyes nearly glowing in the dim light of the shower. His lips parted and I felt his chest rise as he inhaled sharply.
“Not yet...” he said softly, just loud enough to be heard over the rushing water.
And the racing of my heart.
His fingers grazed my side and I jumped. “Are you all right, little witch?”
Then his face dropped closer, and for the eightieth time that night, I could barely breathe.
“Yep. All good.”
“You sure?” he asked as his fingers splayed across my waist.
“Uh huh...”
His low laughter rumbled through him into me. “Feeling better now?”
“I’m feeling something,” I muttered under my breath.
His grip on me tightened. “And do you like this ‘something’ you feel?” His soft breath tickled my ear, and my skin alighted with a tingling sensation that crept up my neck and flushed my cheeks. He pulled away just enough to look at me, those piercing blue eyes searching mine for answers my lips refused to give. “Cece…?”
“Yes,” I replied, my response too breathy, too full of the truth I wanted to keep hidden. Letting Aidan know I wanted him could only end one way, and I knew it. And yet…
His free hand clamped down on my other hip and his fingers dug into my waist just enough to show his control slipping, warring with his own desire he wasn’t ready to fully reveal. He leaned in closer, his chest pressed to my back.
I sucked in a breath.
“Does it scare you?”
I tilted my face up to his. “Yes.”
His fingers dug in deeper still as he leaned in to brush his lips against my ear. “It should…”
My body went still when his mouth lingered as though waiting to see if I'd bolt—if I’d object. But before I could do anything at all, a pounding on the door snapped us back to the grim reality surrounding us. Aidan threw the shower curtain open and grabbed a towel.
“Stay here,” he said before he wrapped it around his wet underwear and walked out of the bathroom, careful to close the door behind him.
I strained to hear what was going on against the sound of water hitting tile.
“Is there a problem?” All I
could hear was mumbling in response. “Of course I’m alone. Do you need to check?”
Shit.
I heard footsteps approaching, and I tried to gather up our sodden clothes off the shower floor, as though the scene would somehow be less incriminating without them strewn about—as though the half-naked girl in the shower wouldn’t be enough on her own.
But Aidan could glamour me. I whispered that under my breath as he threw the bathroom door open to expose the running shower that hopefully appeared empty.
“There you go,” he said, stepping into the small room. “Can I get back to my shower now?”
“Sure. Sorry for the interruption, but there was a report of two students in a restricted area. We found some dusty footprints outside your door, so I needed to check things out.”
“I was collecting decorations, per the headmaster’s instructions. They were in a dusty closet,” he said with a note of heat to his tone. “So, if we’re all set here, I’d like to get cleaned up.” He gestured to the door, and the keeper walked out. Aidan looked back over his shoulder at me and smiled wickedly.
I dropped the clothes and scrubbed my hair and body as quickly as I could, bemoaning the fact that the dye in my hair was washing out with all the scrubbing. The blue-tinged water swirled down the drain as the bedroom door closed. Aidan walked back in just as I turned off the water and wrung my faded blue hair out. I looked at it and sighed, then stepped out of the shower in my skivvies. I grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it tight around me.
“In a hurry?” he asked, eyebrow quirked.
“You were the one rushing me just a minute ago, remember?”
His eyes slid to where I’d tucked the towel around my chest. “Was I?”
“Um. Yeah. You were.”
He cocked his head. “I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
I swallowed hard. “Funny how the fear of getting caught can cloud your priorities.”
I moved to squeeze past him, but it was impossible. His tall, muscular body filled the doorway.
“That’s one way to put it.”
The weight of his stare on me was so intense—too intense—it was all I could do not to freak out and run away. Whatever was going on between us, whatever the intensity of the evening had bred, had us toeing a dangerous line. Dangerous for me, anyway. I knew what Aidan was. Who he was. And if I continued to play with that particular fire, I wouldn’t just get burned. I’d be incinerated.
A morbid realization, given our recent findings.
“I should go…”
“They’re patrolling the halls. I don’t think getting caught like that,” he said, indicating the towel that barely covered me, “would work out so well for you.” The boy had a point. “Here.” He walked over to a small dresser and pulled out a t-shirt. “Put this on.”
Before I could read him the riot act, he turned to give me some privacy. To say I was surprised would be an understatement.
I cautiously dropped my towel and slipped the shirt over my head. It smelled like him—like a forest after the rain. With his back still turned, I took a second to carefully slide my bra and underwear off before they could soak through the white shirt.
“Okay, I’m good to go.”
He looked over his shoulder to check, as though it were a trap of some sort. I tried to ignore the way his back muscles corded with the movement. A mischievous smile stretched across his face as he turned around, and my gaze fell to the exit.
“You’re covered,” he countered as he took a step closer, “but not good to go. It’s not safe, Cece.”
From the way he looked at me, I wasn’t sure it would be safe if I stayed. Not because he posed a threat to me, but because my hormones did.
He stopped a few feet away and looked at me, no hint of amusement in his expression. His eyes narrowed with shrewdness far beyond his years. With suspicion I’d never seen before.
“Do you still not trust me?” he asked, his voice low and full of something I tried to ignore. But his energy wouldn’t be denied. The faint note of hurt tainted the air between us.
“Aidan, I’m exhausted. I don’t want to argue—”
“I’m not arguing. I stated a fact: it’s not safe for you to walk around right now.”
“Fine! Then you can chaperone my trip to my room and glamour us the whole way. Happy now?”
His bleak expression said he most definitely was not. “Let me finish cleaning up first.” He grabbed a clean pair of jeans and a tee from his dresser and headed for the bathroom. “I’ll take you back when I’m done.”
The sound of the shower starting up again echoed through the room until he closed the bathroom door, shutting me out—which was fair, right? I mean, I’d just done as much to him.
I sat down on the bed with a huff and played with the hem of his shirt while visions of his naked chest ran over and over in my mind. Except this time, I saw my hands wandering over it, playing with the contours of his abs, the waistband of his boxer briefs. Blood rushed to my cheeks at the thought of sliding them down—of seeing every inch of perfection that was Aidan.
My eyes slammed shut and I let out a breath.
“Ready?” he asked as he threw the bathroom door open. I shot to my feet and nodded a little too frantically. He strode toward me, his jeans slung low as he slipped his t-shirt on. The flush of my cheeks deepened, and it wasn’t long before the dark-haired fey with eyes like ice took notice. “You sure you’re ready?”
“Yeah,” I said, clearing my throat halfway through the word. “Yeah. I need to go.”
He looked at me for a moment, and the seconds dragged on like hours. “‘Need to’…that’s an interesting choice of words.”
Before I could reply, he opened his bedroom door and stepped into the hall. I joined him in the corridor. He led the way to my room and I followed in silence, tugging at his shirt along the way.
I unlocked my door and pushed it open.
“Thanks,” I said softly, unable to meet his eyes, and slipped past him to enter.
He hovered in the entrance until I reached the far side of the room and turned to face him.
“Get dressed. We need to find your sister and Rhys ASAP,” he said. I nodded again, unable or unwilling to reply aloud. “I’ll find you in a bit so the four of us can plan. And Cece?”
“Yeah?”
He waved his hand in the air like he was calling a glamour. “Go check the mirror.”
Without another word, he disappeared into the hall. The door snicked shut behind him, leaving me locked in and confused.
“Check the mirror?” I said to myself as I walked to the bathroom.
I flipped the light on and gasped. A bright purple shade graced my hair, and I couldn’t help but smile. But that smile was about more than my hair. It was about the boy I didn’t trust trying to show me a side of him I doubted anyone had ever seen before. The boy who was too good for everyone around him listening to me when I didn’t think he was. The boy I’d thought I hated becoming something else to me entirely—something I didn’t dare unpack.
Falling for bad boys was never a good idea.
Falling for one like Aidan would be far worse.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Maddy
Janie was freakin’ alive! I should have felt vindicated that I hadn’t murdered her, but instead, my skin crawled. It felt wrong in too many ways to count.
I tiptoed closer to where she lay on her bunk, the covers yanked up to her chin. Should I shake her until she woke up—assuming she could wake up—and ask her what had happened in Group Session, why everyone had thought I’d fried her with my power, and where the hell she’d been all this time?
She snorted and rolled over to face the wall.
I backed away, too scared to do anything else. Wild thoughts flew through my mind. What if this wasn’t really Janie? What if I shook her awake and she acted like she’d been here all along?
Don’t overthink this.
But my heart beat double time and sweat c
oated my palms.
Scurrying from the room, I took care to make sure the door didn’t bang closed behind me. I raced to Cece’s room and rammed my fist on her door.
“Hey! Cece!” She was not going to believe this. Shit, even I didn’t believe it. Either Janie was still dead and I’d seen her ghost, or she’d left Wadsworth and somehow returned, or my eyes and mind were playing tricks on me. There had to be a reasonable explanation. I just needed to find it.
I banged on the door again. “Cece?”
When she didn’t answer, I turned and slumped against the panel and raked my hair out of my eyes. Where was my sister? She was supposed to be hiding in her room to maintain the ruse that Aidan had whipped her ass in the cafeteria.
Bumping off the door, I strode toward the hall leading to the central area of the campus. No way was I going back inside my room right now. Maybe I’d find Cece in the yard, hunched forward and moaning to mask the fact that she was strategizing with Aidan about what we needed to do next.
When she’d arrived at Wadsworth, we’d been determined to escape. Instead, it felt like a mass of vines had encased the campus, trapping us inside. They’d worked their way into our flesh, turning us into another part of a bigger puzzle we’d yet to figure out.
When I opened the door to the hall, I ran into someone coming from the other direction. A cloud of stinky perfume coated my sinuses.
Ugh. Mean girl alert.
“How’s your sweet big sister doing now that she’s been knocked back to where she belongs?” Sarah asked in a voice dripping with malice.
The cluster of flouncing sycophants around her giggled.
“It was so much fun watching it happen,” one of the other girls added.
“Really?” I said. “That’s all you’ve got?”
“Heard she was so bad off, she needed a healer,” Sarah said, emboldened by the support of her fey friends. She glanced past me. “Where is she? I wanted to share some exciting news about Aidan.”
Rogue Reformatory: Broken (Supernatural Misfits Academy Book 2) Page 16