by Sarina Dorie
“You’re the sneaking, conniving, untrustworthy one!”
He removed his wand from his vest pocket. “Truly, I don’t know what to do with you. I’ve tried to be firm. I’ve been more than patient. But I can see it has finally come to this.” He lifted his wand.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. I didn’t know what he intended: to erase my memories like he had with Derrick? To drain me? Abduct me?
Like clockwork, I heard Miss Periwinkle’s voice behind me. “Felix? Is everything all right? I heard someone tried to attack—”
I craned my neck to see behind me. Miss Periwinkle glowered at me.
“Now is not a good time, Gertrude.” Thatch closed his eyes, looking weary.
“What is she doing in here? You promised me you wouldn’t allow her into your private rooms anymore.”
“This is my office. It isn’t a private room. Students can walk through that door to ask for tutoring—if they don’t get scared off by the torture equipment in the dungeon.” His lips curved upward into a smile at that. “We are having a meeting regarding the incident that just occurred. It would be unprofessional for me to chastise Miss Lawrence in front of another staff member. I request you take your leave until we are finished here. I will join you in the library afterward.”
She remained in the doorway, biting her lip and looking torn.
Did I want Miss Periwinkle to leave? She obviously hated me and would love to see me dead. On the other hand, I didn’t know what Thatch intended to do with me now. If he was going to erase my memories so I would forget Derrick—or do something worse—I had to stop him.
Though I was limited in my abilities to do so at the moment.
I made my best attempt at reverse psychology. “That’s right. Get out of here, Miss Periwinkle.”
Her pretty face pinched together in fury. “Don’t tell me what to do, you little whore.”
“Merlin’s balls,” Thatch muttered.
I tried to sound confident. “You’re interrupting our latest attempt to have a conversation that doesn’t concern you. Felix just asked you to leave. And I want you to leave.” I desperately searched for the right words that would tick her off and make her stay so that his plans would be foiled. “Felix was about to tell me I’ve been a naughty girl. Do you know what he does with naughty girls?”
Her wand was already drawn. She stomped forward. I didn’t know if this was going to be bad—or really bad.
Thatch stood. “Gertrude, don’t. She’s goading you. If you attack, Khaba will find out, and he’ll fire you.” He came around the desk to meet her. His voice remained calm and gentle. He held his hand out and she took it. “Put your wand away, love.”
“That’s right. Put your wand away like your boyfriend asks,” I said. “Khaba might not have been able to catch you trying to poison me. He might not have seen you kill Sebastian Reade or Brogan McLean. He didn’t observe you sending secret messages to the Raven Court, but he’ll catch you this time.”
“I didn’t kill anyone!” she screamed. “I’m not a murderer.”
I gave her my best impertinent expression. “That’s not what Sebastian Reade said.”
She dove toward me, her fingers curled like claws. I turned my face away, but she still managed to gouge her fingernails into my ear before Thatch yanked her back.
I continued. “Sebastian Reade said you were kissing him in the stairwell and you drained him.”
“How do you know what Sebastian Reade said?” Thatch raised an eyebrow. “He’s dead.”
Damn it. I’d just outed myself as a necromancer. Then again, maybe not necessarily. I might regret this later, but I lied. “Vega told me. She took me to the crypt, and she brought him back to life—temporarily.” She wasn’t going to be able to blame me when they questioned her because of the oath, though she would kill me in the middle of the night for certain now.
Miss Periwinkle sagged against Thatch in defeat. He looked from me to her. “As usual, everything you said is obviously a lie. Gertrude would never cheat on me.”
I struggled against the invisible restraints, but they wouldn’t budge. “She’s cheated on you with Pro Ro, Silas Lupi, and Sebastian Reade. I think she even seduced Khaba—and his boyfriend.”
Thatch shook his head at me. “You are doing it again. You’re being an immature, jealous imbecile who—”
Periwinkle cut him off. “I did not seduce Dean Khaba! I only rubbed his lamp.”
“Yeah? And where was his lamp located at the time?”
Khaba’s deep voice came from behind me. “Someplace I would prefer not to mention.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Djinntastic
“I hope you don’t mind me crashing this party, but I thought I’d bring some djinn and tonic,” Khaba chuckled at his own joke. He remained cool and collected as he leaned against the doorway. “One of you—or maybe more than just one of you—has a shitload of explaining to do.”
I tried to rise from the chair, but the invisible snakes continued to hold me tight.
Miss Periwinkle opened her mouth. A high beautiful note erupted from her lips. Khaba held up a hand, and the note died away. Miss Periwinkle grabbed her throat. She coughed. She opened her mouth again, but no sound came out.
Khaba pointed a finger at her. “Not a word from you.”
Yes! He was onto her! There was hope for me yet.
That small gesture must have cost him the last of his wishes—and possibly more. His eyelids drooped in what could have been a sultry come-hither look, but I suspected was actually the result of fatigue and extreme effort.
Khaba nodded to me. “Are you going to release Miss Lawrence? Or am I going to need to force you?”
The usual sparkle of magic that surrounded him had dimmed. He didn’t look as casual in the doorway now, more like he leaned against it for support. If I noticed this, Thatch and Periwinkle must have as well.
Thatch spoke slowly, a glacial edge of warning in his voice. “The restraints are for her safety. I feared she might injure herself or someone else.” He made no move to remove the invisible bonds, but they slowly melted away.
I jumped to my feet and scooted away from Thatch and Periwinkle, watching them warily until I came up beside Khaba. He had to be hurting for magic. I wrapped my arms around his waist and rubbed his back.
I wish for Khaba’s wishes to come true, I thought.
One corner of Khaba’s mouth lifted into a mischievous smile. He lowered my hand to cup his butt cheeks. “Say it out loud, hon.”
My face flushed with warmth. I kneaded his muscles, trying not to think about how embarrassing this was in front of an audience.
I stood on tiptoe, whispering my wish into his ear. “I wish you had more power than Thatch and Periwinkle combined.”
He stood taller. His skin radiated a healthy bronze shimmer. He was so beautiful it was hard to look away. Even Gertrude Periwinkle was transfixed by his Fae magic, her gaze unfocused. She swayed on her feet and leaned against Thatch’s desk.
Khaba grinned and patted me on the head. “Aren’t you a sweetie?” His gaze shifted to Thatch and Periwinkle. “Now, what did you do with my security guard?”
Thatch said nothing.
“I’m waiting. I trust Miss Periwinkle hasn’t cast a tongue-twister jinx on you.” Khaba’s chuckle died into a tense silence. “Tell me what you did with Invismo. If you refuse to speak willingly, I will force you to explain through magical means.”
Thatch’s expression remained stony. “Invismo, your security guard, was not who you thought he was. His real name is Derrick Winslow.” Thatch spoke slowly, enunciating each word with care. “He’d been brainwashed by the Raven Queen, which I managed to cover with a charm to erase his memories. When Miss Lawrence accidentally released him from the protective wards and charms I cast on him, he went on a killing spree. I believe he tried to poison Miss Lawrence’s chocolate, though his plan was foiled when Miss Bloodm
ire switched staff members’ chocolates as a practical joke. Sensing dark magic at work, I ate the chocolate to prevent anyone else from ingesting it.”
“You’re saying you consumed poisoned food out of the kindness of your heart? How noble.” Khaba’s skepticism was thick enough it could have been spread onto a slice of bread and served with a healthy helping of disbelief.
Periwinkle rubbed Thatch’s shoulder affectionately like he was the most thoughtful, heroic knight in all the land. I wasn’t sure what to think about Thatch at the moment.
Thatch’s stiff frame stood as rigid as a tree. He gave away no indication of fear or guilt. “While under the spell of the Raven Queen, Derrick murdered Sebastian Reade and Brogan McLean to gain strength and power. In Lachlan Falls, he called emissaries of the Raven Court and served as the queen’s spy. He would have severely injured Miss Lawrence only moments ago had I not intervened.”
“No!” I said. “He was going to attack you, not me.” I rubbed Khaba’s backside, focusing all my will into my wish to make him stronger.
“Miss Lawrence cannot comprehend the gravity of this situation.” Thatch’s gaze remained glued on Khaba’s face. “Had Derrick Winslow successfully struck me and incapacitated me, he would have kidnapped her and taken her to the Raven Court by force. Necessity dictated I take immediate action to remedy the situation, which I did efficiently and painlessly without risking injury to students or staff.” He spoke smoothly as if discussing a matter as banal as the weather.
Khaba patted my arm, his gaze flickering from Thatch to me. “That’s really nice, honey, but you can stop rubbing me.”
I stopped massaging his butt, embarrassed I’d apparently gone overboard.
He took my hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Where is Invismo now?”
“I’m not at liberty to say. I’ve concealed his body where Miss Lawrence will be unable to find it.”
“Why?” Khaba’s eyes narrowed. “If Invismo is dead, why not let me examine the corpse?”
Thatch hesitated. Miss Periwinkle stared at him curiously. Did Thatch know I could resurrect the dead? It was possible Vega had told him—or he suspected I could do as much from my innate abilities or from use of the spell in Alouette Loraline’s journal.
Thatch wet his lips. “I believe it would be in everyone’s best interests to let the dead rest.”
“Dead men tell no tales,” Khaba said with a wan smile. “Only, I don’t believe Derrick is dead. I think you’ve sent him back to your queen—or if you haven’t done so yet, you intend to do so soon.”
My eyes went wide. There was hope, then? Derrick might still be alive?
“The reason I prefer not to share the location of Derrick Winslow’s body is that it would upset Miss Lawrence.”
Khaba tugged me back behind him. “And what about me? Invismo Winslow is my employee. Are you afraid of upsetting me?”
“I believe it is in your best interest, and the school’s, for him to remain locked away.”
Khaba lifted his chin. “I believe it’s in my best interest to know where he is.”
Thatch said nothing.
Khaba waved a dismissive hand at Thatch. “Fine, then. I’m firing you. And Miss Periwinkle.”
Periwinkle tugged at Thatch’s arm. She tried to speak, but she still had no voice.
“That would be a breach of contract,” Thatch said. “Neither of us have broken any school rules.”
“Oh really? First we have Miss Periwinkle, who I may have evidence to prove is the actual culprit behind several crimes.” Khaba held up his hand, ticking off infractions on his fingers. “Among this list we have attempted poisoning, murder, conspiring with the Raven Court, jinxing another teacher’s tongue, using siren magic to take away the free will of staff members, and an attempted assault on Miss Lawrence’s person that I just witnessed with my own eyes.”
Periwinkle shook her head and opened her mouth, but no voice came out. She tugged on Thatch’s lapels, her face turning red as she tried to communicate something to him. He circled an arm around her and crushed her against his chest.
Only now did a hint of desperation leak through Thatch’s voice. “Gertrude did not poison or murder—”
Khaba held up his hand. “Stop, before I remove your voice as well.” He smiled. “We have your infractions to add to the list. Kidnapping, torturing, and assaulting one of my employees, lying to me in your letter of reference and not disclosing Invismo’s past associations with the Raven Queen, and threatening and restraining Miss Lawrence against her will. We can also add you as an accomplice to murder and conspirator with the Raven Court.”
Khaba looked quite pleased with himself. “Oh yes, and breaking the school rule of having a relationship with another staff member and fornicating with each other on school grounds. Ironic after you were the one to institute this rule for Miss Lawrence’s supposed safety.”
Periwinkle sobbed silently, her face buried against Thatch’s chest. He stroked her golden tresses absentmindedly, as though she were a cat. Thatch’s voice rose in anger. “Mrs. and Mr. Lupi also have a relationship. Do you intend to fire them as well? The rule was simply meant to keep sexual energies away from Miss Lawrence. The Lupis live off campus and perform recreational duties off campus. So it is with Miss Periwinkle and myself.”
Khaba crossed his arms. “Sure you do.”
“Have you any evidence we have ever behaved unprofessionally in the workplace or engaged in sexual conduct on campus?” Thatch didn’t bat an eyelash.
Had I not caught an eyeful of Thatch and Gertrude Periwinkle together, I would have never known he was such a convincing liar.
“I don’t need evidence,” Khaba said. “You’re a danger to this school and the students within. I want you gone.”
I could see Thatch had lost even if he couldn’t.
Thatch spoke just as slowly and calmly. “You don’t have the authority to fire either of us. Only the principal can do that. Currently he isn’t here.”
“I’ll send word to him. When he returns from fundraising, I’ll inform him of your actions. He’ll be forced to fire you and Miss Periwinkle for endangering Miss Lawrence, the staff, and the students due to your affiliations with the Raven Court, your murderous ways, and the smaller infractions you’ve both committed.” Khaba held out his hand. “Until then, I’m confiscating your wands. And Miss Periwinkle’s voice.”
Thatch gritted his teeth. He reached into his breast pocket, his wand clenched in his hand.
Khaba scooted me farther behind him. For a second I thought Thatch might try to use it on Khaba. Instead, he released it, and the twisted stick of black wood floated into Khaba’s palm.
Miss Periwinkle shook her head and kept pointing at me. Thatch removed her wand from her belt and tossed it to Khaba.
Having them hand over wands didn’t make me feel a whole lot better. I could perform magic without a wand. So could they. All a wand did was focus powers.
Khaba twisted his wrist, and the wands disappeared. “Until Jeb arrives, you are both on unpaid leave. Neither of you are to interact with the students. I expect you to stay confined to your private quarters. Separately.”
“Who is going to teach my classes?” Thatch demanded.
“It is no longer your concern.” Khaba tugged me out of the room. “Come along, Miss Lawrence, you need to fortify your strength with food before teaching your afternoon classes.”
I should have been happy. Thatch and Periwinkle had failed. I had won. Except, I hadn’t really succeeded. I didn’t have Derrick, and I didn’t know how I would get him back.
Victory had never tasted so bittersweet.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Damned If You Do
Students were rowdy and unfocused during class, unable to concentrate after the events at lunch. I was unable to focus. Students peppered me with questions about the man with the sword who had been running toward Thatch and me in the cafeteria. I
t was obvious I knew Derrick considering I’d screamed out his name and fallen to my knees sobbing. Not to mention my public argument with Thatch.
I didn’t want to believe Derrick could be dead. Thatch had implied it. He’d said he was gone. But gone wasn’t the same as dead. Just like when Thatch said I couldn’t “see” Derrick, he had been selective about his words.
If Derrick had been dead, Thatch would probably have disclosed where he’d hidden Derrick’s body. I suspected Khaba was correct. Thatch had an ulterior motive.
I needed to help Derrick. Desperate times called for desperate measures. I was going to have to do something that would probably result in getting myself killed—or fired.
I didn’t expect I would be able to get anyone to divine where Derrick was, nor was clairvoyance one of my natural talents. I wasn’t telepathic. The closest I had managed was communicating with Thatch and Derrick in dreams.
Then again, that was something. If I meditated and used my lucid-dreaming techniques, I might be able to speak with Derrick if he was unconscious or asleep. If Derrick knew where he was imprisoned, he might be able to tell me. I could ask him what had happened and where he’d been. We could devise a plan to defeat Thatch together.
Before bed, I visualized what I needed to dream about. The moment Vega turned out the lamp, I sank deeper into a meditative state. I pictured myself in the garden where I had met Derrick in our dreams before. It was an exaggerated version of my childhood home, with my mother’s plants growing as tall as bean stalks. A picturesque moon and stars that looked like cardboard cutouts floated in the sky. A sun brightened half the sky, incongruous with the symbols of night on the other side.
I tried to remember how I had called Thatch to me so I could invite Derrick into my dream. It had happened intuitively before, without effort. I pulled at the idea of Derrick from somewhere outside myself, but nothing happened. I imagined my boyfriend’s beautiful cerulean hair and innocent eyes beside me. A ghost of his cheerful smile and goofy humor brushed against my soul. I tasted his magic of wind and faraway places. My affinity fluttered with yearning to feel his arms around me. I grabbed onto his essence and strained to bring him closer, but my dream fingers sifted through his presence. He melted away like mist.