Shadow Magic: Year 3

by Alexa B. James

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Definitely shows you more of what women want than what you see on a porn site.”

  “Oh, good,” Thorn says with a relieved sigh.

  “And you have to admit, the stories are pretty great, too,” I prod.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Thorn says. “I mean, I’m a guy, so…”

  “So, you don’t like rugged cowboys and rascally dukes deflowering helpless virgins?”

  Thorn chuckles and swirls his fingers over the water, and bubbles begin to rise up all around us, like we’re in a hot tub that’s producing bubbles with the jets. “I thought you said you didn’t like porn because it was unrealistic,” he says.

  “Hey, I never said I didn’t like it. It’s a fantasy. Same as a romance novel.”

  “Fine, the stories are pretty good,” Thorn admits.

  I turn toward him, walking my fingers up his torso. “Maybe we could read one together sometime.”

  Thorn clears his throat. “I—I’d like that.”

  I laugh and relax next to him, snuggling up to his strong, long body. Somehow, even though we didn’t have regular sex, I feel closer to him than I’ve felt to anyone before, even Rocco and Darius. We lie in the bath for a while, just relaxing.

  After a long time, Thorn clear his throat. “You going to tell me what that was about earlier?”

  “Do I have to?” I ask, groaning at the reminder of what I saw. I was so happy to forget it.

  “No,” he says with a frown. “You don’t have to. But I’d like it if you told me why you were crying. Did something happen to your dad?”

  “No,” I say with a sigh of resignation. I don’t want to keep things from Thorn, especially now that we’ve crossed a line it took so, so long to cross. He’s been slow to trust me, and I don’t want to break that trust so soon after he let his guard down with me.

  “I don’t want to mess up things between us,” I say slowly. “Thorn, I’m crazy about you. But… You know I’m seeing Rocco, too.”

  “I know,” he says. “I was there, remember?”

  I wince, remembering the disaster of a date I had with Rocco while Thorn stood guard. “I like you both,” I say. “But I hate the jealousy. I can’t choose between you, but I understand if that’s a dealbreaker for you.”

  “It’s not,” he says. “I meant what I said. You know how I feel about you. The way you feel for someone else doesn’t change that.”

  “And it doesn’t change that I love you, too,” I say. “Loving Rocco doesn’t make my love for you any less.”

  He looks thoughtful for a minute before nodding. “As long as he’s treating you well, I don’t have a problem with him. I’m sorry about ruining your date. I have no excuse. I was jealous.”

  “Why didn’t you just ask me out?”

  “You’d made it clear you liked Rocco,” he says. “Sometimes you seemed to like me, too, but I thought it was just wishful thinking. I was pissed that I couldn’t have you, and he could, and I acted like an ass.”

  “And I love you for it,” I say. “At least I know you’re human, not just the most perfect guy in the universe.”

  He snorts. “Not even close,” he says. “Maybe that was another reason I didn’t ask you out. What could a virgin offer the goddess of sex and creation?”

  “You mean, what could the famous Thorn Cristofaro, magical royalty and one of the most powerful sorcerers in the country, grandson of the head of the Society of Supernaturals and a supernatural fashion designer and icon, who must be richer than the gods themselves, offer the daughter of a psychic and a human, who grew up in a roach-infested apartment in Poortown?”

  “When you put it that way,” Thorn says, flicking a cloud of bubbles at me. “Why am I here again?”

  “I’m not some kind of sex master, either,” I say. “I’ve only been with two guys, Thorn.”

  “And… One of them broke up with you today?”

  “Damn it,” I mutter. “I was hoping I’d led us off that topic.”

  “Not going to forget you sobbing like your heart was broken anytime soon,” Thorn says.

  “Well,” I say. “You know I like all of you, so I hope it won’t bother you that I was upset about Ryker.”

  He nods. “Somehow I’m not surprised my dear friend and hard-ass teacher is the reason for all this.”

  I sigh and get it over with. “I walked in on him screwing Bella.”

  Thorn nods slowly. “Like me, he’s not so good at dealing with emotions.”

  “Yeah, I should maybe mention he walked in on me and Rocco first,” I admit.

  “Ah,” he says, nodding again. “That’ll do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “You know. Crush his ego. Make him act out. I did the same thing, didn’t I?”

  “Well, not exactly,” I say. “And what, I’m just supposed to let him push me around to save his fragile ego? Tiptoe around, pretending I’m not seeing you and Rocco until he’s gotten the stick out of his ass and claimed me for his own?”

  “Definitely not,” Thorn says. “I’d say just keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t make it easy for him. He needs to learn and grow into the man you deserve, just like I do.”

  “You’re already more than the man I deserve,” I say, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

  “Ryker needs someone to butt heads with,” Thorn says. “Don’t ruin my friend, but don’t make it easy for him. That’s what every other girl has done.”

  “Yeah,” I say with a snort, remembering Bella sprawled on her face with a trashcan over her head. Definitely not making it that easy for him. If he wants me, he’s going to have to work for it—especially after that. Otherwise, he’ll just have to get used to seeing me with his brother, because I’m not going to stop seeing Rocco just because he’s too proud to ask for the same.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Whip, Cleo!” I spin around, my blade extending into a steel-tipped whip as it catches the left side of the dummy I’m wailing on. A satisfying rip sounds, followed by a trickle of stuffing from the dummy’s face before magic quickly stitches it back together. I’ve been practicing with Cleo every afternoon for a month, conveniently avoiding Ryker by using the gym when he’s in a graduate level class in another building.

  Since the Bella incident, we’ve been civil to each other when we have to speak, which isn’t often. He never singles me out anymore, hence the extra practice on my own. It’s a lot harder to stay motivated when he’s not forcing me to be disciplined about my training, but I’ve really stepped it up since school started. I’m proud of myself and of Cleo.

  “Okay, one more time…” I tell my weapon, feeling the perfect flow of magic between us, as if we’re one with each other. Once more, I lunge forward for a jab with Cleo in sword form, catching the dummy in the chest before ducking underneath its arm, Cleo shifting into the whip once more, this time with cruel barbs. They catch into the dummy’s middle, creating a hook of sorts as I yank it off its wooden spike and send it toppling to the ground. I straighten up, panting as Cleo turns back into a spork.

  “I’m liking this new combo of ours,” I encourage her. “The barbs are a nice touch. You’re vicious, girl.”

  She sings in my hand, delighted by my praise, preening by showing off her wicked whip shape again.

  “You sure that’s not for the bedroom, Jade?”

  I turn to find Asher leaning up against the gym door with a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “In your dreams,” I sing as I make my way toward him. “Did you see that, though? Cleo and I are totally going to kick ass during finals this semester.”

  “To be fair,” Asher points out, nodding at the dummy. “Your opponent isn’t exactly reactive.” He laughs, ducking away as I slug him in the shoulder.

  “Whose side are you on here?” I ask.

  “No, really, you looked like a pro out there. But what are you doing here, Jade?”

  “Just blowing off steam.”

  �
�Very dominatrix,” Asher says, eyeing my whip with approval.

  “So…” I twirl Cleo in my hand, gesturing toward one of the sparring areas. “You gonna take me on?”

  “Actually, I gotta go,” he says, his face turning red as he rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve got… Something.”

  “Oh my god,” I say, swatting his arm. “Are you seeing someone?”

  “No one special,” Asher says lightly.

  I plant my hands on my hips. “Spill.”

  “Hm, that would be a no.”

  My mouth drops open. “I can’t believe you’re not going to tell me.”

  “Remember when you wouldn’t tell me about your secret lover?” Asher asks, quirking a pierced brow at me.

  “Yeah, but that’s different,” I say. “I was protecting him.”

  “See ya, Jade,” he calls, swishing his hips as he swaggers out. Damn it. He’s getting me back for holding out on him, but it’s not like I could have told him about Darius. The less people who know, the safer we are. It’s bad enough that Thorn, me, and Darius are walking around with that little bombshell in our heads for people like Topher to pluck out.

  And oh my god, what if Asher won’t tell me because his secret boyfriend is Topher? Elowen would be crushed. Explains why Asher won’t tell me, but surely he wouldn’t…

  Would he?

  I glance at my phone, startled to see so much time has passed. I lost track of time, and now Ryker’s due back any minute. Some part of me knows I should just talk to him, but most of me is still too mad and hurt to do that. He hasn’t come to me, and I’m not going to him first. I get that he was trying to hurt me because I hurt him, but what he did was so much worse than what I did.

  Still, maybe it’s time to make amends. That was a month ago. Maybe he’s ready to kiss and make up.

  “Yeah, like sticking my hand in a viper’s pit and hoping for a kiss,” I mutter to myself.

  I take one step toward the door before it opens. I freeze, my heart slamming against my ribs, sure that I’m about to see Ryker walk in with Bella hanging on his arm, looking up at him with adoring eyes that’ll make me relive her disgusting display on his desk.

  Ryker steps through the door and stops, looking from me to the toppled dummy. He’s blessedly alone.

  “Jade,” he says carefully.

  Maybe he knows he crossed a line. That’s why he’s left me alone, not even tormenting me when I’m in his class and at his mercy.

  “Ryker,” I say.

  “I’ll just be in my office,” he says, glancing past me.

  I sigh. “Are we going to keep doing this all year?”

  “Doing what?”

  I roll my eyes. He knows exactly what. “Avoiding each other,” I say. “Look, I told you I liked you, Ryker. That was your cue. It was your move. You didn’t do anything. You knew I liked Rocco, too.”

  “I know,” he says, frowning. But hey, at least he’s not running.

  “I can’t always be the one to lay it all out there,” I say. “Eventually, you’re going to have to reciprocate something.”

  “See, that’s the difference between us,” he says. “I don’t expect you to like me, Jade. I never asked for anything from you, and I don’t owe you anything. I have no interest in petty dating dramas.”

  “So, that’s why you came back here after seeing me and Rocco, and promptly fell dick-first into my sworn enemy?”

  “Fine,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. I can see the faint outlines of the tattoos on his arms through his white shirt. “You want me to lay it all out there for you?”

  “Yes, please,” I say in relief.

  “You want to know why I walked in on you that night?”

  Why he walked in on us. Damn. I never once stopped to wonder why he was in my room. I was too busy being crushed by seeing him fucking Bella afterwards.

  “Okay,” I say, trying to replay the events that led me to the horrific events I witnessed in his office.

  “After you left our training session, I thought about what you said,” he says. “And I thought maybe I was being a jackass, and I was coming to tell you I’d give it a shot.”

  “What?” I whisper, staring at him in shock.

  Ryker scoffs quietly. “You didn’t need me, Jade. You might have told me you wanted me, but clearly any guy will do. My brother’s happy to fuck you. You don’t need me. And I don’t need you.”

  He strides past me, leaving me standing there gaping until I hear his office door slam behind him. Some stupid part of me wants to go after him, but hell no. He just basically called me a slut, saying my feelings for him are meaningless and I’d fuck any guy. Well, fuck him.

  I stomp to the door and out into the dusky evening, Cleo humming gently in my hand, probably sensing my agitation.

  The campus is my own this late, so once again I take a huffy lap around it. These walks are always, always fueled by my rage at that impossible, infuriating, gorgeous, wounded, irresistible man. Why can’t I just walk away?

  Cleo vibrates insistently in my belt, as agitated as I am.

  “It’s okay, girl,” I pull her out and give her a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll get through this without murdering him. Somehow.”

  Cleo usually agrees with me, but this time she transforms into a sword, buzzing in my hands and practically pulling me along the path, like she can’t wait to get bloody.

  “Okay, okay,” I say, laughing. “What’s gotten into you?”

  Cleo jerks more violently, and the next second, something slams into my back, knocking me to the ground. Someone crashes on top of me, someone heavy and smelling like they dragged themselves from the nearby swamp. I try to roll over, but he’s too heavy. I can barely catch a breath to let out the tiniest squawk before he clamps a clawed, calloused hand to the back of my neck. I buck my hips, trying to roll him off, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he claws Cleo out of my hands, tossing her off to the side. I let out an angry snarl, magic surging through me as she sends me her strength.

  Before the bastard can strangle me, I call on the spell I learned to levitate, which can also make someone else levitate. I hurl the magic at the creature, sending it sailing off me and through the air. I hold it suspended before slamming it back to the earth. It grunts loudly, rolling over. It has the height and shape of a man, but it’s far stouter than any man—and grosser. Its thick skin is warty and pocked, its eyes glowing a sickly yellow color as it lunges to its feet and opens its mouth to reveal streaky black teeth as long as my finger.

  It dives at me, mouth agape. I duck aside, rolling into the grass in the direction he flung Cleo, over toward the back of the library. I’m pretty sure I’m dealing with an ogre, but I wrack my brain on how to kill one. When it comes at me again, I spin and catch the creature in the chest with a heel, sending it stumbling backwards. “Come on, girl,” I call out, searching for Cleo while I backtrack toward the building. “Gimme a sign…”

  The creature lets out a heckling laugh as it lunges again. I fling it to the ground with magically enhanced strength, and it slams to the hard-packed dirt with enough force to shake the earth. But before I can step back, its arm swipes out with surprising speed, catching the back of my leg and bringing me to my knees. Then it sinks its disgusting teeth into my leg. With a shriek, I brace myself on my hands and throw my legs around in a circle, ogre still attached. I crack its back against the brickwork of the library, and it releases me with a groan.

  I scramble away and glance down at my leg, bleeding and oozing black. My head swims with pain, and when I look up, the ogre is right in my face, grinning with a row of teeth streaked red with my blood, ready to bite right through my bones with its next attack.

  Oh, fuck no.

  I reach out a hand, and the next second, Cleo slaps into my palm. I raise the sword, but just as I’m about to slice the ogre’s head off, a rock thunks into its skull.

  It lets out a dismayed lowing sound and stumbles out of my reach. I turn to see Topher sprint
ing toward us. He throws out a hand, and a long, twisting chord of smoky black magic shoots from his hand and wraps around the ogre. It reminds me way too much of Lilith’s magic, and I shudder before raising Cleo again.

  “Try it again,” Topher growls at the ogre, a weird echo to his voice. “I’d like to see how much I can pump into your grotesque body before you pop.”

  The creature hisses something incomprehensible, then turns and lopes off into the shadows, vanishing in seconds.

  “What the hell,” I say, turning to Topher. “I had it handled. I was about to kill it!”

  “When I spotted you from the Dark Arts wing, you were unarmed,” he says, frowning at Cleo.

  “And the best you could do was throw a rock?”

  “It distracted him, didn’t it?” Topher asks.

  “Ugh, now it’s still out there,” I grumble. While it’s nice of him to rush to my rescue, I can’t help but be annoyed that the evil thing got away, probably going to crawl back into the swamp to lick its wounds.

  I hook Cleo into my belt and turn, ready to drag myself home. My leg is throbbing like a motherfucker where the ogre bit me. Too polite to point out that I was being a bitch, Topher maneuvers himself around beside me and drapes my arm over his shoulder. I start to protest that I’m fine, only to let out a pained gasp when putting weight on my bitten leg.

  “Easy,” Topher says. “You don’t want the ogre’s venom getting any farther up your leg.”

  So, it was an ogre. I’ve never seen one, but everyone knows they live in the swamps around here. The throbbing in my leg prevents me from asking further, though.

  “Can you get someone from the infirmary?” I ask through gritted teeth.

  “Not enough time,” he says, glancing around. Together we move to a nearby bench, where he lowers me and props my leg gently across it while he kneels to inspect the wound.

  Fuck, it looks gross. Black ooze runs down my leg, intermingling with blood and what looks like puss. Even worse, it’s starting to grow numb, causing a twinge of panic to course through me. “How bad is it?” I ask.

  “I’m afraid we might have to take… Drastic measures.”

  My heart suddenly lurches, and my head swims. “Am I going to lose a leg?” I ask, my voice catching in my throat.