by CY Jones
But even still, I can’t help asking, “Why would you do this for me? Since the beginning of class, I got the impression you didn’t like me much.”
“At first, I did think you were arrogant. Rotten from the inside out because you’re powerful. But even with how strong you are, you still have flaws. You can thank your familiar for my change of heart. He showed me the real you. The way you move is pure madness. Illogical and unpredictable. I take it that’s the way you were taught, and I usually find your type hard to teach, but you’re also a diamond in the ruff, I can’t pass up. If you’re willing, I’ll teach you, but you’ll have to listen and follow my instructions.”
“I like the way I am. I don’t want to be predictable. I like being illogical, it’s fun. Control is boring,” I say.
“Control is necessary, especially with stamina. Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not trying to change you, just improve you.”
I don’t sense any falseness in his words, and since Mr. Meow approves of him, I guess he’s on the up and up. He taught the heirs, and even I can’t beat them. With a slight nod of my head, I agree. At least him training me takes pressure off my grandfather and that’s the least I can do with all the trouble I’ve caused him. I still don’t know if he’s going to be alright or not.
“Good. Meet me here every evening at seven. You should have eaten by then.”
Agreeing, I leave with Oli to my next class. Luckily, he doesn’t have to play hooky since we have the same class. According to the roll, Mary is also in this class, but has been marked absent since she’s still at the healer’s office. I should feel guilty but I don’t, knowing who’s with her. I guess her injuries are more serious than I first thought. She should consider herself lucky. Not many people live to see the light of day after being subjected to my deadly hair. Her hair is no joke either. If it weren’t for Oli healing all my cuts and bruises, I’d be walking around looking like I fought with my familiar, and he was the one to come out on the winning end.
Stomping on someone’s head while they’re down isn’t nice either, but oh well. It’s not like we’re destined to be besties or anything. As long as she holds feelings for Zion, I don’t see us being friends. I may admire her talent and find her a worthy opponent, that’s all I’ll ever acknowledge from her. If she values her life, she’ll stay away from Zion, or else she’ll be sure to meet Death in person.
Chapter 15
Ruelle
Following Master’s orders, I use a strong cloaking spell and follow his daughter around campus, careful to not alert her or her Champion of my presence. As expected from someone from the Morganstein line, she’s crazy powerful, but I can’t help this feeling that something is off about her. Watching her fight the little vampire mage, I could tell she was holding back, but also something wasn’t quite right with the magic she did use. Maybe she’s still healing. After carefully going through the report from the fight she started at Crimson Blood, she suffered many injuries and took quite a lot of damage to her magical powers.
Trailing behind her on silent feet, I become corporal and make my presence known once my familiar, a chameleon I had since I was young, comes back with a message from Master. He wants to see the girl.
Not even a second has passed before her Champion spots me. “Who are you?” he growls, also becoming corporal and aiming an arrow at my neck. With just the slightest movement, I could lose my head from my body, but despite the danger, I still smile, leaning casually on a row of lockers with my arms crossed.
“Is this any way to treat family?” I answer instead, looking pointedly at the girl. With long dark hair and eyes the color of a kaleidoscope, she looks just like the pictures I’ve seen of her mother.
“You’re no family of mine. I don’t even know who you are,” she protests.
“You didn’t know the headmaster at first either, but it doesn’t erase the fact that he’s your grandfather.”
“Who are you?” she questions, narrowing her eyes.
“My name is Ruelle Morganstein. I’m your cousin on your father’s side.”
“I thought that asshole was the only Morganstein left in the family line,” she blurts, and I lose my smile. Our family has many secrets. Like her, I’m one of them.
“I wouldn’t let your father hear you call him that. He’s not known for his benevolence.”
“Stop calling him that. That man means nothing to me,” she growls angrily. How interesting. She’s not afraid of our lord nor does she care to take advantage of what such a last name can offer in our community. She’s very different indeed. I don’t know if she’s brave or stupid. In fact, I don’t know her at all. She’s just one of those nasty secrets in our family that burst out in the open.
“Deny him all you want, it doesn’t change the glaring fact that he’s your father.”
“Whatever, what do you want?”
“I’m here to take you to him. He has asked to see you right away.”
“Sorry, I’m busy,” she says, waving me off dismissively.
“Silly child, do you really think you have any say in the matter? What Lord Morganstein wants, Lord Morganstein gets.” I should be afraid. Her Champion’s arrow is still pointed at me, but I’m not worried. She will come with me.
“Child? You’re like what? Twenty-one? Only a couple years older than me. If I’m a child, then so are you.”
“Age is not important. If you don’t want anything horrible to happen to your grandfather, you’ll be a good girl and do as you’re told and come along with me. If not, I can’t guarantee his survival.”
“You… you son of a,” but she pauses at that, halting her insult as quickly as it started. She knows she’s not the one with the upper hand here. Caring for others is inviting weakness. Tools the enemy can use against her. She wasn’t brought up as a Morganstein, so she’s not heartless, but with the way she is now, I don’t see her lasting long.
“Fine, I’ll go with you, but my Champion stays by my side.”
Smiling, I say, “I couldn’t care less if he comes along or not as long as you follow without resistance.” At my words, her archer lowers his bow, and shortly after, a pulse of magic sizzles the air as he shields them both. The things I would do for a taste of pure power like his. No wonder so many mages die happily to take part in the Mage War.
Conversation halts as I lead the way. While they’re wary of me, I’m curious about what Master wants with the girl. He’s not the fatherly type, and she’s too willful to be one of his puppets. It’s not like he can threaten her family members forever. The headmaster is a distinguished mage of his own right. One little mistake made on her part won’t get him killed by the Council and Uncle can’t just attack him without reason.
We’ve been walking for quite a while in total silence before she finally cracks and speaks. Unlike her, I’m used to being quiet. I was raised to be a spy, quiet, and unassuming.
“Where are you taking us?”
“Not much farther,” I answer before growing quiet again. I can practically feel her anger coming off her in waves. Like her father, she’s short-tempered. She’s amusing, I give her that. It makes me think that she doesn’t just have her looks going for her and there may be a brain up there in her pretty little head. Out of character, I give her some advice. Usually, I’m all about saving my own ass. Pointing to a curtain of hanging vines that lead to an empty clearing where our lord is patiently waiting along with a few others, I say, “If you value your life, I’d hold that sharp tongue of yours. Uncle praises strength, but those who speak recklessly in his presence, he wouldn’t hesitate to punish. Even his own daughter.”
With a haughty humph, she ignores me completely and walks through the curtain filled with arrogance and bravado. Silly female. If she chooses not to listen to my advice, today could be the last day of her life.
Chapter 16
Angelica
“Who does that asshole think he is? Cousin? What a joke. He’s nothing more than one of Morganstein’s minions.
Pushing the vines aside, my steps falter at not the beautiful clearing before me, but one of the men on the other side. Zion. What is he doing here? Standing beside him is a man that has to be his father. The resemblance is uncanny. They both have the same auburn hair and eyes. It’s only their auras that’s different. While Zion’s is a bright red, warm and blazing wickedly with the flames he wields, his father’s is dark and cold. His flames give off a sinister light without any heat but something more ill-intended. This man is evil through and through. I haven’t forgotten he tried to kill Zion when he went to him for help and leaked my identity to Morganstein. While I’m here, I should pay back the favor. “Don’t do anything hasty. Now is not the time,” Archer whispers in my head.
“Boo, you’re no fun,” I reply, annoyed. “Besides Morganstein and whoever that old man is standing beside him dressed in the old fashioned green robe, there’s no one else here who’ll stop me. I’m sure Zion wouldn’t mind if I killed his father with the way he treats him.”
“Even still, we’re not here to fight unless we don’t have any choice. Let’s see what Morganstein wants first and not proceed recklessly.”
“Always the general,” I grumble.
The arrogant jerk that brought us here finally enters and I watch him as he leans casually against the thick trunk of the flowering weeping willow tree. His body language may be casual, but his aurora screams he’s dangerous, so much so that he gives me goosebumps. Besides that warning, I can’t read anything else from him. He claims we’re related, but I don’t see much of a family resemblance. Even with Morganstein, there’s some similarities. We have the same hair color and bone structure.
Ruelle’s hair is lighter, dark grey in color. Stylishly shaved at the sides and long enough to be pulled on top of his head, gathered into a tight top knot and tied in place by a thick braid. I don’t know if it’s natural or not, but the ends of his hair are a dark green which blends within the grey flawlessly. My eyes are hazel and they change colors constantly depending on my mood, but his are a silver so pure and ethereal that they ripple off the light like the mirror reflection on a clear lake. Staring at them is a little unnerving and I steer my gaze away, glancing over his thick lashes and plump red lips. He even has a tiny beauty mark at the very bottom right under his lip. He may be even prettier than me, but he’s no match to the growly fire mage in front of me. Sensing my eyes on him, he winks and I quickly look away.
“Daughter, so nice to see you in person,” Morganstein greets me. “I trust you’re doing well.”
The first words that come to mind is ‘don’t call me that’, but heeding the pretty asshole’s advice, I bite back my retort and give the devil just as false of niceties as he gives me. Fuck it. Two can play this game. I have my grandfather’s welfare to think about after all, as well as my own. Pissing the great lord off won’t do me any favors, and right now, he has the upperhand. Meeting with me out here away from the academy is clearly a power move.
Pasting a fake smile on my face, I answer, “I am doing well, but I’m a little confused as to why we’re meeting out here in this secluded place and the company. Care to enlighten me?” Still leaning against the tree, Ruelle smirks and Zion loosens his stiff stance beside his father. Is it really so hard to believe I can keep a level head?
“What a pleasant surprise. I thought you would still be displeased with me from all the little misunderstandings between the two of us. I’m glad to find out my daughter is reasonable and nothing like the rumors claim you to be.”
“Misunderstandings?” I growl through clenched teeth, clenching my fist tightly at my sides, creating crescent shaped wounds in the skin.
“Angelica,” Archer whispers in my head and like a cold balm, I instantly calm down. “Don’t let him goad you into doing something stupid.
He’s right, of course. Calling me out here is nothing more than a ploy. His setting to one of his demented games. I cannot forget, Morganstein is a sly fox. Each person here is nothing more than a piece of the board game, whose only function is to unravel and trick me into being careless. I’m sure Morganstein knows how annoying his nephew can be and letting him lead me away to a location unknown is all part of his game. Zion’s presence serves to unnerve me and put me off footing. His father is here to ignite my anger. The old man in the robe, I have no clue who he is, but I’m sure Morganstein won’t let his identity stay unknown for long.
“Water under the bridge, my dear. Water under the bridge. Let's let bygones be bygones and start over anew. As you may have guessed, there is a reason why I called you all the way out here. I’ve always loved the scenery here. Did you know this clearing is a special place for me and your mother?”
“No, I did not.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. I take it Boudreaux didn’t mention your mother much. Not without telling you the truth.”
He almost sounds fatherly. Bravo for him. He plays the part well. His handsome face is calm, almost concerned. If I haven’t already seen his true nature, I might even be fooled by this performance. What happened to his sinister demeanor? Those cold dark eyes of his aren’t fathomless like a black hole, but illuminated by stars of love. Could it be that his act is so believable that he even fooled himself? He never loved my mother. He was only with her to produce a powerful heir. Once done, he killed her out of spite. Saying he did it because she ran away was only an excuse. Looking at him like he’s lost his goddamn mind, I see the monster for what he is and not this fallacious illusion he’s trying to paint.
“Why is this place so special?” I question.
With his hands behind his back, he pauses in front of me. “My dearest child, this is where your mother and I recited our vows and accepted our mating. I called you out here to follow in your parent’s footsteps.”
“Wait! Hold up,” I say, holding my hand up, trying frantically to understand his words. Mating… vows.. Who? My gaze bounces to Ruelle, but quickly, I dismiss that thought and they switch to Zion. His face is expressionless like always, giving nothing away, but my gut tells me I’m not wrong. “You,” I point my finger like I’m pointing out a criminal in a police lineup.
“Oi, how bright you are. Yes, daughter, Hawthorne’s son is the mate I chose for you.”
“No,” I answer automatically, throwing away all the false niceties and stomping them under my feet. Zion sighs like he knew this would happen, which only serves to enrage me even more.
“No?” Morganstein repeats.
“You heard me. No means no. Hell no. Fuck no. Whichever way you want to take it so you can understand. I will not be mated to him. Not now, not ever.” One may think I’m throwing a tantrum, and maybe I am, but I don’t care.
“Dearest, you’re not exactly in the position to tell me no. I’m sure your grandfather explained that it’s the father’s right to select a mate for their children, or is that something else he failed to teach you?”
The threat is clear, a warning hidden within his words. I want to save my grandfather and not let him suffer anything else because of me, but… this.. I can’t conform.
“You forget, I just found out he was my blood, just like you. There hasn’t been enough time to teach me.”
“Even still, Boudreaux should have said something to you. Either way, the rules are the rules. This is Daxdyn Frostfire,” Morganstein says, waving his hand in a lazy like motion at the mage in the green robe. “He’s one of the members of the Council and here as a witness to the ceremony. He’s also here to judge your grandfather for neglecting his duties after your killing spree out in the open at Crimson Blood.”
I knew once the identity of the man in green was revealed I wouldn’t be happy. Fucking hell, I feel like a wolf caught in the hunter’s trap. The teeth to the device are sinking into my foot, causing more pain. A mouse would bite off their own foot to escape, but I’m no rat and am loyal to those I love.
“There’s nothing to think about. Agree now and complete the ceremony, or I’ll make sure you’ll regret it and n
ot just you. Under my influence, I’ll make sure your grandfather suffers and never sees the light of day.”
Here he is. The true Morganstein. The real man I was expecting to meet. I don’t know how he easily broke through Archer’s shield or how his voice is in my head, but it’s clear he doesn’t want anyone else to hear his threats. Does he really have that much power over the Council? Can I chance it?
“I call foul. If you really had that much sway over the Council like you say, then you wouldn’t be communicating with me inside my head. If you’re so bold, then say your threats out loud for everyone to hear.”
“Dearest, don’t try me. I’m talking to you in private for you to save face. It’s not just your grandfather’s life I could ruin, but that fake dad of yours too. Oh, and let’s not forget about your own. You’re certainly a rule breaker, but the incident at Crimson Blood wasn’t your first time, now was it?” At his words, I stiffen and my body grows cold. “Don’t worry. You don’t need to answer. I don’t know whose soul you beckoned from the beyond to inhabit your brother’s body, but that act in itself is enough to guarantee you’d be put to death.”
“What of you?” I shriek, outraged.
“And what exactly did I do?”
“Don’t play innocent. You’re the one who killed Quinn and stole his soul away. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have done what I did in the first place.”
“Did I? Where’s your proof? You can accuse me all you like, but without solid proof, I’m afraid the Council won’t take you seriously. It was by your hand that Quinn Boudreaux was killed, and it was you who used forbidden magic to raise a soul from the dead. Shall I continue or are you ready to admit defeat?”
In my mouth, I taste blood, but I don’t feel the pain from biting my tongue. My body shakes uncontrollably, and if the others were in the dark before, just looking at me tells them something is going on. He got me good. This trap has gotten even more complicated. Nearly unbreakable as it’s enforced with walls of solid iron. “Do you wish to fight our way out?” Archer asks.