by T. S. Ryder
Still, she would only be here for a few months. Ma-Vic prided itself on turning out top notch witches with incredible skills within a single semester of their intensive programs.
Avalon tugged at her seatbelt, wincing as she heard the child lock engage. She tried to find a position for the belt that was neither squashing her breasts nor cutting into her neck. She succeeded only in losing what little space the belt had given her.
Her mother, Elaine, smiled in the rearview mirror at her, noticing the signs of Avalon's restlessness. "We'll be there soon."
Avalon tried to smile back at her, but her stomach twisted in knots. If the best tutors available were not able to help her get a good handle on her magic, how was this school supposed to?
It was desperation, bribing her a place among other students who were no doubt going to be talented, prestigious and promising.
I'll just have to try harder, she told herself. What does Dad always say? Failure to quit is the only acceptable form of failure?
Thinking of her dad made her smile, but it didn't last long. It was going to be her birthday soon. Once she turned twenty, it was time for her to take the keys to the Gate of Albian from her mother, and protect King Arthur while he slept.
Of course, her mother wouldn't actually transfer the keys to her until a special ceremony on Samhain Eve at the end of October. But it still didn't give Avalon much time to prepare for the responsibility.
Daughters inherited the keys from their mothers when they were twenty years old. It was the way that Morgan le Fay, Avalon's distant ancestress, had decreed when she locked the gates, sealing Arthur in his sleep for his mortal wounds to heal. If her mother did not give her the keys this year, both would be driven mad by Avalon's twenty-first birthday.
"Don't look so glum," Stane, Elaine's bonded dragon, her lifelong protector, twisted in the passenger's seat to look at Avalon. If continuously scanning the other cars past Avalon's head was actually looking “at” her.
"Be bold and confident. You are a Lady Grey, born of the Fey, wielder of magic. Put your shoulders back, hold your head high—"
"I'm fine," Avalon interrupted, smiling slightly. "I'm suffering some self-doubt, but I'm fine. After all, how can I not be confident when I have all this?"
She gestured down her body, indicating the tight corset top and knee-length pencil skirt she wore. The clothes hugged every curve of her bounteous figure. Not so comfortable to travel in, but it looked good on her. She snapped her fingers, creating a small spark and let it steam to emphasize her hotness.
"All I have to worry about is how to handle all my dates," she quipped.
Stane chortled and turned back to the front. He never drove if he could help it. It was easier to fight off villains or use a semi-automatic weapon. Like the one he had resting against his leg if he didn't have to concentrate on not crashing as well.
Avalon would be getting her own bonded dragon soon, though she hadn't met him yet. She wondered what he would be like. Hopefully, he wouldn't be like Stane and insist she eat fewer sweets. Life without sweets was no life at all.
***
Ma-Vic was located away from the hustle and bustle of downtown, close to the Pacific Ocean, making the weather mild and wet all year round. It was drizzling when the car stopped. Avalon stepped out, glad to escape the seatbelt and get a first look at her new home.
It was a smaller campus than she expected with the buildings closer together. There were half a dozen of them, each of them three stories high, scattered in a circle around a large grassy field that sported several stone picnic tables and a fountain right in the middle. Despite the rain, students were lounging about. Some had swirls of cloud hovering over their heads, keeping them dry.
Well, that was an easy enough spell to do. Avalon twirled her fingers in the air, summoning her own cloud umbrella.
Stane embraced a young man. She arched a brow, interested in this display of affection. In all the years she had known Stane, which was her whole life, she had only ever seen him hug one person besides his husband, and that was her mother.
"Avalon, Elaine, I would like you to meet my nephew, Vaughn," Stane said.
Avalon nodded in greeting, eyeing Vaughn. He could not be much older than she was. Like Stane he was well-muscled, his tight V-necked sweater emphasizing that fact. Both had dark, impossibly red hair. Stane wore his long and tied back, but Vaughn had his in short curls that clung to his scalp. They both had the same dark blue eyes, too. But while Stane's skin was a dark russet, the younger man was pale, with a scattering of freckles over his face. His cheeks and nose were both red, as though he was sunburned.
"Pleased to meet you." Vaughn nodded first to Elaine and then to Avalon.
"And you, Mr. Vaughn…?"
A smirk spread over his face, looking rather smug. What did he have to be smug about? "Albanesi."
"Vaughn is going to be watching after you," Elaine said, stepping to Avalon's side and putting an arm around her shoulder.
"Watching after me?" Avalon frowned. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"Like my uncle, I am a Red Dragon. I have been trained as a protector and guard from before you started learning magic. I'm here to make sure you don't get yourself killed or kidnapped."
Avalon's face got hot. She was used to having bodyguards around her, but they were usually Stane or people of similar age.
Why would she need a bodyguard here, anyway? In all her life there had never been an attempt on her or her parents. Stane mostly protected them from annoying diplomats that had a little too much to drink at parties. Certainly the school would have its own security?
"I don't have a habit of getting killed or kidnapped, but thank you," she said coolly. He must be more of a guide, to help her acclimatize to the school's culture. "Would you be so kind as to show me to my dorm?"
Vaughn inclined his head.
"Call your father," Elaine told Avalon as they embraced. "He'll want to tell you how much he's sorry for not being able to be here. Again."
Avalon's nerves twisted again, though she kept a smile plastered on her face. "I will. You have a safe flight home."
"Oh, I'm not going home. Some business in London has popped up and the queen is desperate for a little bit of magic to help smooth things over." Elaine's eyes twinkled. "Just think, by this time next year it will be you instead of me that everybody is trying to get a piece of."
"I'm never going to be as strong in magic as you are," Avalon whispered, letting herself voice her fears for the first time.
Elaine's face became serious. "Of course you are, Avi. You have far more potential than I ever had. That might actually be your problem. It's hard to focus and contain that much raw energy. But don't worry. With the intensive programs here and nothing to distract you, you'll be moving mountains before you know it."
Out of the corner of her eye, Avalon saw Vaughn loading all her suitcases into his arms. His muscles strained at the load, but he laughed and chatted with Stane as though it was no effort. His tight shirt showed off his well-formed back, making Avalon's cheeks warm.
"Yeah. No distractions."
"Just don't look at his butt and you'll be fine," Elaine whispered.
Avalon's face went red. "Mom!"
Elaine laughed but sobered quickly. "I'm serious, though. You only have until Samhain Eve until I pass the keys to you. It's a lot harder to concentrate on your magic when that happens, believe me."
Samhain Eve. It was still ten months away. Avalon shook her head. Stressing about something that far away was not going to help her.
Yes, she had a lot of work to do, but even though she hadn't seen the progress she wanted with her tutors, she had to admit that her magic blossomed over the last two years. She was even able to levitate multiple small items these days, something even her mother had trouble with.
As Elaine hugged her mother one last time, Stane told Vaughn not to let anything happen to her, and then they drove away.
Avalon turned to
Vaughn. "Want some help with those suitcases?"
"I'm good."
"Are you sure? They're heavy."
A wicked gleam lit in Vaughn's eye, as if what Avalon had just said was a challenge. "I've dealt with heavier. Come on. I'll take you to your dorm."
Chapter Two
Early the next morning Avalon stood at her window, leaning sleepily against the frame. Everything was green, a welcome change from the white snow that had greeted her every morning at home. It was beautiful.
Avalon always liked seeing how different places looked from one location to another. It awed her, to see how diverse and huge the world actually was.
Fully awake now, she ran her fingers through her short, dark bob, washing and combing it with magic. Bubble baths were perfect for relaxing, but showers were a waste of time in Avalon's opinion. This witch preferred a couple of spells to exfoliate, shave and cleanse her skin.
Within two minutes, she was done with her daily grooming routine and stood in front of the mirror, deciding what to wear. Eventually, she chose a faux wrap shirt in deep purple and paired it with a black skirt and a pair of comfortable wedges. As she surveyed herself, she nodded, pleased with how she looked.
Some people might think that she got the short end of the genetic stick. She had inherited her mother's curves, which was fine on Elaine–she was tall, and with her proportions, she could be a model. Avalon, on the other hand, had inherited her father's shorter statue. As a result, she appeared twice as wide as her mother, although if they hemmed Elaine's clothes, they fit Avalon perfectly.
Avalon didn't much care what other people thought about her. She loved her body and knew she was sexy.
There was a knock on the door. Avalon answered it to find Vaughn. He wore more formal clothing than he had when they met the previous day, though he looked just as casual. A blue dress shirt was tucked into gray pinstriped pants, the top button unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up to this elbows. The pants were well-fitted, not too tight but not baggy, either. All in all, he cut quite the impressive figure.
Avalon didn't realize that Vaughn was ogling her as much as she was ogling him until both their eyes flickered up at the same time. For some insane reason, a blush rose up Avalon's neck, but Vaughn only grinned at her, as though he had expected this.
"I thought I'd give you a tour of campus before your first class. And I want you to wear this." He thrust a golden bracelet with a deep green emerald in it at her.
Avalon rose a brow. Jewelry? "It's pretty, thanks, but it doesn't really match my outfit."
"It's a GPS tracker. Magically enhanced so that jammers won't work on it and water won't short it out."
Avalon frowned. "That's a little extreme, don't you think?"
Vaughn shook his head, leaning against the doorframe casually as two students walked by, chatting in Farsi. Avalon understood something about the ocean, but her Farsi wasn't as developed as it ought to be.
She added that to her mental list of things to work on. With her family's position, she needed to be fluent in as many world languages as possible.
"I can't be with you all the time," Vaughn said, his voice low. "If I'm going to protect you, I need to know where you are at all times."
Stane was similarly paranoid about her mother's safety, so Avalon shrugged and slipped on the bracelet. It fit her wrist perfectly. She tapped the emerald, muttered a quick spell and the green changed to a more appropriate amethyst.
"I hope it doesn't have a camera in it. I'd hate for you to be a witness to when I get lucky."
Vaughn scowled, his blue eyes flashing. "It doesn't have a camera in it."
"I was joking."
The dragon grunted and gestured for Avalon to follow him. She ducked back into her room for her key, then followed him outside. The air was crisp and fresh, with that cold, briny scent that only came from the ocean. Avalon drank it in.
They stopped at the cafeteria for a couple of bagels, then Vaughn showed her around campus, though all the buildings were labeled: Science for potions and water-based magic, Art for the creative and air-based magic, Defense for earth magic and finally there was Offense for the attack of fire magic.
A fifth building was for administration and the library. And finally, the sixth building was the dorms for students.
It was the fiery offense that Avalon had the most trouble with and where most of her classes were going to be held. She scowled at the building, hating it already.
"So will you take classes, too?" she asked, eyeing a group of dark-skinned students as they entered the science building. Why couldn't she be enrolled in more water magic courses? It was fun and practical.
"I'm not a student. I'm immune to all types of magical attack and can break through magical defenses, but other than being able to shift into the dragon, I've got no magic of my own." A smug smile spread across his face. "Not that it makes a difference. I could still demolish any one of you puny magic-wielders if it came to a real fight. That's why so many witches look for dragon bodyguards."
Smug looks good on him. Hmmm… Avalon looked away. Maybe confident instead of smug.
Vaughn jumped onto the rim of the fountain, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that emphasized the muscular nature of his biceps. "Tell me, wasn't Morgan le Fay the enemy of King Arthur?"
Avalon nearly groaned. "You're supposed to be a trained Red Dragon. Why don't you know what really happened?"
His eyes glinted. "Humor me."
"Well, it is difficult to know what the real story is, it happened so long ago. Most of the contemporary records were destroyed," Avalon admitted. "But the popular culture version of the King Arthur story has gone through a lot of misogynistic hands, especially when it comes to Morgan."
"Misogynistic?"
"People who thought a powerful woman couldn't be anything but a wicked witch," Avalon explained dryly.
"Ah."
"But if you look back far enough, even in the human records, you'll see that Morgan was actually on Arthur's side. She didn't like Guinevere, but she supported Arthur in his quest to unite Albian."
"Albian. As in England."
"Lots of scholars think it's more like the whole world. Hence why my family holds the keys to Albian, which is where we are, not where Arthur is. After the final battle against Mordred when Arthur was fatally injured, Morgan helped get his near-dead body to the Isle of Apples—"
"Avalon," Vaughn said, his eyes twinkling. "Just like your name."
"Ugh. I love my name, but I sometimes wonder what my parents were thinking."
Vaughn laughed, and Avalon found herself grinning like a schoolgirl at the sound. He had a nice laugh.
"The Isle of Apples," she quickly said. "Some scholars think it has some connection to the Tree of Life in the Christian tradition, or the golden apples of Asgard in Norse beliefs. It's said to be a place of eternal life and healing, anyway. But yeah. Arthur is “the once and future king,” so he's going to come back some time, unite the world and bring about peace between every nation.
"At least, that's the most reasonable interpretation," Avalon continued. "My mom made me write essays on the subject matter every year growing up, using various scholarly sources, arguing for different ways of explaining the prophecies."
Vaughn jumped down from the fountain, landing lightly beside her. "I hope that's the right interpretation. The world could use some peace, don't you think?"
He started away and Avalon's gaze drifted to his tight ass. It was a mistake. Her cheeks flushed and a surge of heat swirled in her stomach. Her eyes snapped up again as Vaughn turned and he smirked. Avalon wondered if her pupils had dilated, giving her away. She cleared her throat and hurried to walk next to him instead of behind him.
"It's time for your first class," he said. "This way."
Avalon's heart sank as they headed for the offense building. It was just her luck that she was going to end up humiliating herself in front of all her classmates–and Vaughn–on her first day there.<
br />
The class was taught by a tiny woman who called herself Madame Fire. She was shorter even than Avalon, with spiky black hair and a thick New Zealand accent.
"The trick to fire," she said, "is emotion. Sadness, anger, joy, hate. These are your tools. The stronger the better. Form your weapon from emotion, let it burn through you. The real challenge is to use your emotions, but not let them consume you."
Avalon tried not to grimace. Emotion. She was a mellow person. This was precisely why she was never that great at fire magic, despite how pivotal it was to learn.
Vaughn stood with several other men and women at the end of the classroom. Avalon wondered idly if they were all bodyguards and then wondered who she was rubbing elbows with as the students formed a line. Royalty, perhaps?
"We're not going to be practicing any magic today. Your assignment for the next class is to find something you react with strong emotion to. It doesn’t matter what emotion, just find it and bring it to class." Madame Fire surveyed them for a moment, then nodded. "Dismissed."
Well, that was easy. Avalon turned to Vaughn, but a tall, dark-haired, slender girl stepped into her path. "You're Avalon Grey, aren't you?"
Avalon nodded.
"I'm Elsa. My mother said you'd be coming to school. I'm having a little get together in my dorm on Friday to celebrate our first week. You should come."
Vaughn was suddenly at her side, practically glowering at Elsa. Avalon ignored him, glad there was at least one person here that she could get to know. "Yeah, of course I'll come."
"Great!" Elsa beamed. "Seven o'clock, don’t be late."
Chapter Three
The first week of classes was brutal.
Madame Fire was the only one who was satisfied with just explaining what the class would be like. In every other class, Avalon had to show just how advanced her skills were. Which was to say, being humiliated when her offensive spells were weak and ineffective.