Shadowblade Academy 1: Darkness Calls

by KC Kingmaker

  For good measure, Genevieve literally kicked me while I was down, but my back and spine hurt too badly for me to really feel it.

  She raised her foot to finish me off. I was seeing stars and couldn’t defend myself even if I wanted. I closed my eyes, resigned to my fate, not wanting the bottom of her shoe to be the last thing I saw. And my dumb ass thought the professor would intervene before I got my trachea crushed by this bitch’s foot. Foolish gir—

  “That’s enough, Vivi.” The voice was decidedly not Professor Hudson’s.

  My eyes snapped open. I raised my head.

  Venn Gable stood a few feet away, separated from the rest of the gleeful audience who had just watched me get my ass kicked.

  “This isn’t your fight, Venn,” Genevieve snarled, slamming her foot down an inch from my head.

  “I’m making it mine. Come on, you’ve proven your point. No one’s going to embarrass you again.”

  Well, let’s not get too hasty . . .

  My lungs were finally starting to take air again, but everything hurt. I still had no idea what Genevieve had done to me. My eyes moved to the side, where Professor Hudson was standing behind all the students, arms crossed as he studied us, no doubt to see how we would take care of the situation.

  It reminded me of one of my most hated quotes in all of retail: “Team building exercise.” What the hell, man? Take control of your class! My bid for vengeance is over! My siege has failed! I sound like I’ve been reading the same trashy romance books as Charli, and I might be concussed!

  The edges of my vision went dark. I really wanted to see the outcome of my little brawl with Genevieve, if it could be called that, but I wasn’t sure I had it in me.

  “Fine,” Genevieve finally said. She stared down at me. “You got off easy, worm food.”

  I let out a sigh of relief and agony.

  As she walked away, Venn stood over me. He reached a hand down.

  My eyes first landed on the impressive bulge between his thighs. It was like right there and I couldn’t stop myself. I was on my back, staring up between his legs, and he was lending me a helping hand. But I felt like the only thing that would help me in that moment was seeing that swinging dic—

  No . . . that’s not right. Fuck, Genevieve scrambled my brain. That’s not what I meant to think. “Cock and balls,” I sputtered, feeling dizzy and discombobulated.

  Venn had an amused smirk on his lilac face, his hand still outstretched. “What’s that, Miss Hargrave?”

  I tried to move my body to stand, and failed. “I-I don’t think I can walk. I think she broke my back.”

  “You wouldn’t be moving your neck or extremities if you broke your back. You’d be much worse off, and you wouldn’t be begging for cock and balls.”

  “E-Excuse me?”

  “Nothing. Do you want help or not?”

  “Okay.”

  He knelt down and picked me up in a bridal carry, with little more than a grunt. My head pressed against his firm chest, his broad shoulders seeming to keep me protected and boxed in. All other thoughts and visions of the sparring students vanished as Venn’s scent of crisp rain and roaring thunderstorms played like déjà vu to my senses.

  He smiled down at me. “Well, isn’t this familiar?”

  I quirked my brow. “Huh?”

  Oh, right. The first time we met he was picking me up just like this . . . stealing away my paralyzed body from my home.

  Chapter 14

  Dax

  I WAS INTRIGUED ABOUT Coralia Hargrave, to say the least. While Donovenn and Sunder were on opposing sides concerning her, I’d remained firmly on the fence. Up until her “sparring match” with Genevieve Jade.

  Now I was leaning a certain way.

  I supposed Donovenn and Sunder’s conflicting opinions of Coralia made sense, given their personalities. Even if it was driving a wedge through the sad remnants of our Glove.

  Donovenn was the most jovial Unseelie Fae I’d ever met. He had come from an unfortunate background, but hadn’t we all? He was the epitome of the adage that the people who had been through the worst circumstances were oftentimes the most sympathetic and understanding.

  Before knowing him, I hadn’t thought such a thing possible from the dour Unseelie. I was fascinated with the silver-haired, lilac-hued fae. Being the subpar conversationalist I was, I’d never managed to sit down and ask him what made him tick, why he was kind, or why he appreciated Coralia Hargrave after little more than a passing glance. He knew nothing about her.

  Perhaps he had an ulterior motive.

  Sunder, by comparison, was an intimidator. He had come from a long line of cutthroat, ruthless tyrants—first princes and kings, and then powerful businesspeople and politicians in modern times. Being a vampire, he had been around for quite some time. He was still in his infancy as a bloodsucker, and I hoped he would brush off whatever chip he had on his shoulder before he became an actual tyrant himself.

  His nickname, Sunny, was a twisted irony, given his disposition. The man couldn’t be out in sunlight for more than a few minutes without feeling ill, and his demeanor was decidedly un-sunny.

  And then there was me. I had come from a poor, unsophisticated clan originally located in the jungles of French Guiana. After much persecution, my ancestors migrated to the more temperate climate of the Appalachian Mountain forests prior to my birth.

  I knew what struggle looked like just as well as anyone, and understood the risks one must take in order to survive and thrive.

  When Headmaster Alaric Cane had invited me, personally, into Shadowblade Academy, my faction had been elated. I owed my future to the Academy, which was why I had always toed the line and was seen as more formal than the other Knuckles in Hudson’s Glove.

  Any rewards from my assignments would go back to my faction. I lived a meager existence and was fine with it.

  Despite Donovenn and Sunder’s differences, I had come to love them like brothers—even if I didn’t always show it. We were part of an elite unit.

  Then we lost Quentin Argyle and Myria Hargrave, our brother and sister, and became, well, a Glove without a hand. Empty shells. We still had a capable Wrist—the person responsible for guiding us; the one who gave us assignments—in Jace Hudson, but we were all struggling.

  Perhaps that was where the animosity between Donovenn and Sunder stemmed from: Donovenn held onto a glimmer of hope, being an optimist, that Coralia Hargrave could fill the empty hole inside us, since she was the sister of one of our former Knuckles. Meanwhile, Sunder was too attached to Myria to let her go.

  I was less emotional than either of them. More reserved and calculating. It was why I made such a good scout and tracker. I didn’t share Sunder’s bombastic traits or Donovenn’s headstrong ones.

  But like my brothers, I was loyal to a fault. That concept changed my opinion while watching Coralia Hargrave battle a much stronger, more skilled opponent in Genevieve Jade.

  I saw potential.

  Coralia had the fighting spirit of a war goddess. Her unwillingness to back down or give up, even in the face of obvious defeat, was inspiring. Perhaps she really had thought she stood a chance—that she was going to win and be the heroine of the day.

  I didn’t believe being a “heroine” was in Coralia’s mind at all. She simply had grit, and wouldn’t be subjugated by tyrants, except by force.

  That’s what made my eyes gleam while watching her getting tossed around the dojo mat like a ragdoll: Her unflinching loyalty to her friend. Even a friend she had only just met. Loyalty that we, the Knuckles of Hudson’s Glove, shared with one another.

  I was relieved Donovenn put a stop to the fight before I had to. It was in his nature, and I suspected he would.

  I watched the bout from the shadows, my preferred location. During it, I eyed Wrist Hudson out the corner of my eye, wondering when he’d put a stop to it. His arms were folded like mine, eyes dark and unreadable to most . . . but readable to me.

  He saw the same things
inside Coralia I did. At least I liked to think so. He wanted to see how his Glove would react to the situation.

  Donovenn, Sunder, and I were Wrist Hudson’s people. After our Ghost-year together at Shadowblade Academy, along with Quentin and Myria, we had formed Hudson’s Glove. He was our leader.

  In my mind, Wrist Hudson wanted to see if we still had the drive and wherewithal to be a Glove and stop the sapling of tyranny before it bloomed into an unwieldy tree. In that respect, Genevieve was the sapling.

  Despite Shadowblade Academy’s grim name, we had to remember the assassins being trained here were honed to fight against oppression and terror. We weren’t meant to be the oppressors, but rather the rebellious sect who questioned them.

  It seemed like a concept lost on Genevieve Jade, and even Sunder Conway at times. But not Donovenn Gable, and for that I felt proud of my brother.

  Coralia Hargrave would not replace her sister Myria, who had been a force to be reckoned with in her own right.

  But perhaps Coralia would become something else entirely: the thread that sewed Hudson’s Glove back together.

  AFTER DONOVENN LEFT his family namesake’s training facility with Coralia cradled in his arms like a babe, sparring resumed.

  I watched for a while so my intentions didn’t seem too obvious, though my mind was already made up. Halfway through class I slid behind everyone and spoke a few words with Wrist Hudson.

  He nodded to me after we were finished talking, giving me the go-ahead.

  Before leaving the dojo, I spotted Charli Fairfax sitting alone in a corner of the huge room. She was wiping tears away. I stuttered at the door, hesitating, and then approached her. While I’d never been a sentimental man, I knew how hard guilt and blame could ruin a person’s conscience.

  Standing over her, I reached down. “Take my hand, Miss Fairfax.”

  She blinked big eyes at me, her freckled cheeks slick with drying tears. She showed no judgment on her face, just curiosity. “E-Excuse me, sir?”

  “You needn’t refer to me as ‘sir,’ unless you would prefer I call you ‘ma’am’ or ‘dame’?”

  A small smile grew on her face. “I mean, if you’re offering . . . I wouldn’t mind.”

  I gave her a wry smile of my own. “Very well, Dame Fairfax. Come with me.”

  She giggled then cocked her head, still unsure. One didn’t become a shadowblade trainee without some measure of suspicion written into his or her DNA, so I respected it.

  Tentatively, she took my hand and wobbled to her feet. “Who are you and where are you taking me, sir . . .”

  “My name is Dax Kilmeade. I’m going to take you to your friend.”

  “Cor Cor?!” she asked excitedly, hope budding on her innocent face.

  “If I’m correct to assume ‘Cor Cor’ is Coralia Hargrave, then yes.” I nodded. “Cor Cor.”

  “Okay! You can do that? Leave in the middle of class?”

  “I’ve received permission from Professor Hudson.”

  The excitement fled her face as we made it to the door of the dojo. She stopped walking, shaking her head, and doubt clouded her features. “Wait, she probably doesn’t want to see me. I’m to blame for all of this.”

  “I believe she did what she did for you, Dame Fairfax. Not because of you. If that makes sense.”

  “I . . . I think it does.” She mulled over my words. “Okay, fine—wait!” The excitement came roaring back, eyebrows creasing. “I have to get Bruce Kittenson!”

  “Bruce . . . what?” I began to ask, but she was already jogging to the women’s locker room.

  I scratched my head and furrowed my brow. When Charli returned a moment later with a backpack that moved and bulged from the inside, I didn’t ask questions. It wasn’t my place.

  “All right,” she said with a wide smile. “Now I’m ready, Mr. Kilmeade.”

  “Dax is fine.”

  “Okay, Mr. Dax.”

  I gave her a stern glare, narrowing my eyes.

  She giggled, blushing.

  Then we were on our way to the infirmary.

  I couldn’t let Donovenn bask in his chivalrous rescue alone. He wouldn’t be able to fit his head through the door if he was left to his own devices for too long.

  I chuckled to myself. Maybe he’s more similar to Sunder than I originally thought.

  “SHE’S SLEEPING NOW,” Donovenn told me when I entered the hospital room with Charli. “She’ll be fine. She over-exaggerated the extent of her wounds.”

  Coralia lay on a gurney with a blanket over her body, chest rising peacefully with each breath. “I was trying to sleep. It isn’t gonna happen with all the stuffiness and talky-talk going on,” she murmured sullenly, eyes still closed.

  She was right: The small room had become rather cramped with Donovenn, me, Charli, and whatever terrifying creature Charli held captive in Coralia’s backpack.

  “Cor Cor, you’re awake!” Charli squealed. She pushed past me and Donovenn to crouch next to Coralia’s hospital bed.

  Coralia’s eyebrows clenched for a moment at the jarring sound of Charli’s squeal. When she opened her eyes, she smiled softly to her friend. “Charli, you’re here.”

  “So is Bruce Kittenson!” Charli cried out happily, holding up the backpack. Muffled meows and scratching sounds emanated from within, and I went on high alert.

  Right, I forgot Coralia Hargrave has a cat as a pet. A pity.

  Charli unzipped the top of the backpack. A white feline leaped out, plopping itself on Coralia’s chest.

  She winced. “Ow! Brucey, come on, man. I’m wounded here. Don’t hit a girl when she’s down, dude.”

  Bruce did not seem to care. I knew all too well what that felt like.

  Charli swept the cat off Coralia. She hugged him tight against her thin body. “Cor Cor, are you mad at me?”

  “No, hun. How could I be? I got into that shitstorm myself.” She let out a raspy cough. “Genevieve really gave it to me. What kind of Kung Fu badassery did she even pull? Never mind, I don’t want to know. It hurts to think.”

  Her mind seemed awhirl.

  “She’s still a bit loopy,” Donovenn told me. “Dr. Merryman gave her pain medication.”

  “You know I can hear everything you’re saying, right?” Coralia asked. “Now you’ve called me loopy and an over-exaggerator.”

  “Hopefully those two afflictions aren’t permanent,” I said.

  Coralia narrowed her eyes at me. “Ah, the quiet creepy one has jokes? Who would have thought?”

  I firmed my lips. “I’m not creepy.”

  “Creepiness is in the eye of the beholder, Dax.”

  Charli scrunched her brow. “You two know each other?”

  “Hardly,” Coralia said. “He helped stuff me into a prison cell when I first got here.”

  Charli’s shoulders sank. “For the initiation? Yeah, that was no fun.”

  “Try being paralyzed right before it. Like, literally.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.” Coralia sighed. “What are you all doing here? Not you, Charli—you’re cool. But you two guys? I’m fine.”

  I said, “I’ve come with an offer.”

  “Oh God, are you gonna ask me to join your creepy shadow cult?”

  “What? No.” My brow furrowed. She was good at throwing me off, which gave me another reason to bring her into the fold. “I’m here to offer my services as your tutor in Professor Hudson’s Physical Intent class.”

  The room went dead silent.

  Donovenn’s head was the first to whip around. “Wait, what?”

  Coralia blinked rapidly, her eyes big in her head. “Um, I’m with him,” she said, pointing at Donovenn. “Did you not just see Genevieve wipe the floor with me?”

  I bowed my head. “Indeed, I did.”

  “Then why would you want to train me? I’m a leper here already. I don’t have the skill set someone like you is looking for.”

  “Frankly, Coralia, you have no idea what I’m look
ing for,” I blurted. Being a loner, or a “leper,” I related to her, though it wasn’t like me to voice my inner thoughts. Composing myself, I cleared my throat. “Skill and technique can be taught. What you have inside you can’t. That’s what intrigues me, Coralia.”

  “Whoa,” she murmured. “Okay, Mr. Miyagi.”

  “Pardon?”

  “The Karate Kid?”

  I shook my head.

  She flapped a lazy hand at me, facing Donovenn at the end of her bed. “Venn, what do you think of this proposal?”

  “I’m . . . surprised,” he said. His eyes hadn’t moved from me, as if trying to read my mind. Good luck, Donovenn. “A little pissed he got to it first.”

  I shrugged. “Coralia will need help in more than just physical combat aspects, Donovenn.”

  “Hey, are you saying I suck at everything?” Coralia asked, trying to sit up. She coughed, grimaced, and flopped back down. “Ugh. No, it’s cool. You’re right.”

  “So?” I said. “I’ll only make the offer once.”

  All eyes were back on Coralia. She was getting flustered. Or was that pink blush on her cheeks from embarrassment?

  A long pause drifted through the stuffy room. Eventually, she tossed up her arms. “Okay, okay, fine! Damn, y’all are hardasses around here.”

  Charli squeaked for some unknown reason, startling the resting cat in her arms. “Yay! You have a sensei, Cor Cor! Did you hear that, Mr. Kittenson? Coralia has a Mr. Miyagi.”

  Donovenn frowned. Not to be outdone, he said, “If you’re gonna do that, Daxy, then I’ll be your Alchemy tutor, Cor.”

  Coralia’s eyes bulged. “R-Really?”

  “Spirits know you need it,” he mumbled.

  Given his background, I knew Donovenn would make an excellent tutor in that respect.

  “I’ll teach you spellcasting basics, babe!” Charli wailed. “We’ll get you up to speed real fast.”

  Coralia was at a loss for words. She stared blankly at the three of us. “You guys, that’s . . .” When she trailed off, she closed her eyes, letting her head sink into the pillow. “Can we reconvene in a little bit? I think Dr. Feelgood is right after all. I need my beauty sleep.”