by KC Kingmaker
What threat did Coralia really pose to the Academy? She could hardly weave spells. She could manipulate shadows about as well as she could fly.
The only threat Coralia posed was to my heart. Namely, stealing it.
My gut told me she would become just another “assignment” for Ghosts and Phantoms to carry out. Another statistic to keep the “evil” supernatural population down, and Shadowblade Academy as the top manufacturer of killers across the land.
In fact, Sunny’s little debacle—accidental or not—would likely be justifiable cause for her life to be forfeit. Academy secrets couldn’t get out, right?
Historically, the “final assignment” of a Ghost or Phantom’s semester was to utilize the skills and abilities that had been learned throughout the year, but in real-world practice. Essentially, to assassinate someone the Academy didn’t like. They never told you why, or what the target had done, until it was too late. As a student wanting to become a shadowblade, you had to follow through with the order or risk an untimely death yourself.
Cadets here couldn’t wilt like flowers. They couldn’t crumble under pressure. We all knew what we were signing up for when we came to Shadowblade Academy, and the “final assignment” was to put your money where your mouth was. To make sure you were capable, worthy, and most importantly, loyal.
When Sunny, Dax, Quentin, Myria, and I had been Ghosts, we had been given just such an assignment. A “team exercise,” really, to see how we gelled. From there, we had become a Glove, with Jace Hudson as our Wrist, leader, and commissioner.
The mission the five of us had taken part in wasn’t one I liked to dwell on, because we had failed spectacularly . . . but not badly enough to get kicked out of the school. Our conviction had been there—we went in knowing what we needed to do—but the information had been faulty, our execution sucked, and the job had ended up a failure. We’d been deemed worthy, capable, and loyal, despite our failure, and we’d given the Academy plenty of new information.
Information that, I suspected, would turn into new “assignments” for cadets eager to impress.
And so the wheel kept turning.
I prayed Coralia hadn’t inadvertently put herself in the crosshairs and become one of those “assignments.”
I was conflicted because I owed Headmaster Cane my loyalty. I owed the Academy my allegiance. He had accepted me despite my past, thinking he could mold something out of me.
The Academy had become my place of atonement for my past sins in the Unseelie Court.
And yet, as I walked down the brisk cobblestone pathway through the dimly-lit park, toward the men’s dormitory, I wondered how much allegiance I really owed Headmaster Cane, Wrist Hudson, and all the rest.
They were using me. I’d always known it, and up until recently, I’d had no problems with it. I was a tool, like all shadowblades, to be used at their disposal. I played the part of good soldier boy well.
Now things had changed. I could no longer throw aside my feelings for Coralia for the sake of the mission I had to carry out. She had become the chink in my steely, oath-bound armor, and it threatened to tear down the very identity I’d been building up since coming to Shadowblade Academy.
I was so pissed at Sunny for what he’d done. With his cruel little joke, he had put Coralia’s life at risk. It was ironic I was angry at him, given I’d been spying for the headmaster all this time.
It also sucked ass I had no one to turn to. No one to ask for advice. My operation was clandestine and I kept it close to the chest, at Alaric’s behest. Why me? I often asked myself. Why did the headmaster choose me? Because I’m likable? Because he wants to test my resolve? Because he knows I’m a sucker for a pretty face and a sad story?
I still didn’t know specifically what I was supposed to be watching for with Coralia, other than to keep an eye on her in case she turned out to be . . . what . . . evil? A double agent of some kind?
The idea was ludicrous. Coralia was by no means innocent—she had a tongue like a barbed-wire fence, and could be unruly. Even if she wasn’t innocent though, she was pure. She had the courage of a lioness.
I felt lucky I’d been able to find her in her hometown, floating around her old haunts. It had pained me to see her so broken when I finally laid eyes on her, because that wasn’t her. She had probably weighed her options and decided she couldn’t return home without risking her friends and family. Although I would never ask, I liked to think she had avoided her loved ones, and was left to stalk familiar grounds like a ghost.
It was a feeling I knew all too well. Like her, I couldn’t return to my past in the Unseelie Court. The difference was I didn’t want to, whereas it had obviously pained her to come to that realization.
Everyone at Shadowblade Academy was fucked up in one way or another. You didn’t become a damn assassin because you were a happy person. We all had dark backgrounds.
Seeing Coralia in that sweltering city night had made me want to dive deeper into her origins. I wanted to know everything about her. I wanted to help her.
The last thing I wanted to do was fucking kill her, but I knew the “ask” was coming.
At that moment, I didn’t know which one would win out: love or loyalty.
MY FEET BROUGHT ME to the men’s dorm, but not my room. Before my mind could reconcile what I was doing, I was standing in front of Sunny’s door, seething and gnashing my teeth together. Working myself up.
I burst in without knocking, not caring if he was with Genevieve or jerking off or studying or anything else. He needed to answer for what he’d done. He was the only person I could think of at that moment to take my frustrations out on.
Sunny jolted up from his bed where he’d been sitting. His hands flexed into fists when he stood, eyebrows arching menacingly, probably thinking he was under attack. He saw it was me and his posture loosened, yet he fixed me with a suspicious gaze.
“Brother, we need to talk,” I blurted, anxiety running through me.
“Ever heard of knocking, Venn? What if I was—”
“I don’t care. This is important.”
He flared his nostrils. The tall vampire didn’t like being interrupted or talked down to. “What is it?”
“You’ve grown wicked, Sunny.” I exhaled sharply. “Using your powers to harm.”
He said nothing, firming his lips into a thin line and crossing his arms over his chest, defensively.
I vaguely gestured at his room. “I don’t know what your obsession with Coralia is, or if Genevieve Jade has something to do with it, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. But the cruelty has to stop.”
Sunny’s upper lip peeled back in a snarl. “I’ve grown cruel, Venn?” he said in a sinister tone. Then he exploded, jamming a finger toward me. “Well you’ve grown soft! That’s what these powers are for, brother. You think we’re becoming shadowblades to help people? Don’t be naïve. We’re becoming shadowblades to kill people!”
Hearing him speak so savagely, so aggressively, made my heart sink. Sunny Conway had always been disagreeable, but this was a new side to him I hadn’t seen. I hated it. And this was coming from an Unseelie fae—generally speaking the most disagreeable beings from any realm.
The tension sizzled in the air between us: me in the doorway, him standing mere feet away in front of his bed. It was palpable energy begging to break.
He looked so close to losing it. Enraged. It made me think of things in a different light, judging his past bouts of anger. My eyes flared. The obsession he has isn’t with Coralia, but with Myria. It’s always been that way. He’s always been pissed about how her disappearance was handled.
Knowing that, I tried a different approach. “Torturing Coralia won’t bring Myria back, Sunny.”
His jaw ticked. “How would you know what would bring Myria back? You don’t seem to care that she’s missing at all!”
Something inside me snapped. How dare him! Enough was enough. A red curtain fell behind my eyes—a visceral sensation I hadn’t exp
erienced in a long time.
I lunged at my brother, closing the gap in a heartbeat, my fist flying toward his face.
His vampiric speed helped him bob out of the way, ducking his head. At the same time, his hand curled into a fist and he jabbed me in the side.
I grunted and twirled, knowing I’d need to contrast his blinding speed if I wanted to have a chance at victory.
He was faster, but I was craftier.
When he tried to punch me again, I pivoted behind him and flicked my wrist, launching a shadow at him from the lamppost in the corner of the room.
Sunny growled and backpedaled from the leaping arm of darkness.
I let the shadow die and our positions had switched—me in front of his bed, him in the doorway. His amber eyes flared with fire. I knew his bloodlust had taken over. A lesser opponent would have been overwhelmed, but it was something I knew I could use to my advantage.
When he charged, I was ready. I put my hands up and twirled my wrists. A murky circle of black ripped through reality’s fabric in front of me.
He couldn’t stop his lunge in time. Sunny barreled face-first into the shadowgate, which I directed out the door, at the nearest shadow I could see, on a wall in the hallway.
He appeared seconds later, tumbling out of the wall-portal still lunging. His head smacked against the door to his room. He staggered to his knees and bent into a fighter’s stance.
I could do it all day—sending him through an endless loop of shadow portals—if he wanted to keep trying to tackle me. He might have been the aggressive, offensive one, but I knew how to control my magic better and was a more defensive fighter. Typically, it was what made us such a deadly combo.
“Coward,” he growled, which only incited my frustration even more. If only he knew the extent of the cowardice I felt in that moment, not because of him, but because of everything I’d been thinking about concerning Coralia.
The single word sparked my wrath. I gesticulated and molded the black circle in front of me. Spindly tendrils like spider legs curved in from the sides of my circle. My shadowgate became a physical manifestation of limbs, which I launched toward him.
Sunny spoke under his breath and gouts of flame leapt from his fingertips. When the shadow tentacles connected, they singed, causing the blackness to curdle and sizzle out.
My eyes bulged, not expecting him to make quick work of my shadow. I prepared another casting, but he was already halfway across the room, charging once more.
He tackled me and we flew over his bed as one. Before my head had a chance to smack the wall behind me, I muttered an incantation, and then we were both flying through a shadowgate on the wall.
We ventured through the Shadow Realm together, weightless in the fuzzy purple and blotted darkness, letting the pull guide us. I tried to twist out of his grip while we traversed the plane, but he was too big and strong.
We exited the portal out the same shadow I had first sent him through, and his weight crashed onto me on the floor of the hallway. Air flooded out of my lungs.
He raised his hands to rain haymakers on my face, and it took everything I had to dodge and weave his attacks.
Gasps filled the hallway. Students were coming out of their rooms, likely alerted from our loud brawl and the sounds and smells of magic. No one stepped in to intervene. They weren’t going to risk the ire of the Phantoms by butting their noses in.
It didn’t bode well for me. I prepared for my beating.
Sunny’s fist came crashing down and I raised an arm to defend—
A whoosh of wind sent him sailing off me, crying out. My lungs expanded with air as his weight lifted off my chest.
Sunny crashed a few feet down the hallway. I rolled to my hands and knees to look at our new attacker.
Murky tendrils snuck in from the walls and snaked around my arms and legs, locking me in place. Down the hall, Sunny was similarly immobilized.
“Enough!” Wrist Hudson stood before us, arms extended, palms flattened. He kept us both in place with his experience and prowess alone.
Sunny seethed for a moment longer, teeth bared. I let my anger out in a long, shaky breath, incapacitated by Jace’s shadow manipulation. When Sunny finally calmed, realizing his Wrist was commanding him, we shared a surprised look.
I had never fought my brother before. Not outside of training, and certainly not in anger. How did it come to this? What does it mean for our future as a Glove?
“I don’t know what started this little rumble in the hallway,” Jace said, “but I won’t have it. That’s what we have the dojo for. Take your aggressions out there, Phantoms. Is that understood?”
Sunny and I nodded glumly. “Yes, Wrist,” we said in unison.
Jace lowered his hands. The shadows restraining us slithered off our bodies and retreated to the walls.
All three of us let out labored breaths. Students filed into their rooms at Jace’s orders.
“Now then,” the Wrist said, his beard twitching. “Sunny, you are to come with me. Headmaster Cane would like to speak with us.”
“Us?” Sunny asked. “Including you?”
“It appears so. Venn, you can tag along if you’d like, but I don’t believe this meeting concerns you.”
“What about Dax?” I asked.
“He’s away from the Academy at the moment.”
When he said nothing more, Sunny and I glanced at each other again. First I’ve heard of that . . .
Sunny shoulder-checked me as he walked by. Rubbing the back of his neck, he said, “What does this concern, sir?”
“I assume the headmaster found out about your debacle with Coralia Hargrave.”
“Shit.”
They started walking away and my pointy ears perked up. “Wrist, you said I could join you?”
Jace shrugged. “If you’d like.”
“Good. We are a Glove, after all,” I spat loudly, trying to emphasize the point for Sunny. “If it means anything anymore.”
Sunny scoffed and shook his head. “Of course it does. Brothers fight. It’s what they do.”
“Is that your version of an apology?”
Sunny shrugged nonchalantly, which only flared my frustration. “Should it be? You swung at me first.”
Fucking asshole. I frowned. He’s right though, isn’t he?
“Venn, are you coming or not?” Jace interjected, arms folded.
“Oh yes, Wrist.” I wouldn’t want to miss this for the world.
“SUNDER CONWAY, YOU’VE harmed the integrity of Shadowblade Academy with your little stunt earlier this evening.” Headmaster Cane’s voice was pinched and annoyed. He was dressed in a fuzzy black robe that swept the floor, a nightcap on his white head. “And you’ve also roused me from my slumber,” he grumbled.
I wasn’t too surprised Alaric Cane had discovered Sunny’s “little stunt” so swiftly. I hadn’t snitched on Sunny—brothers didn’t do that—yet I knew Alaric had eyes and ears everywhere. As the chief of the Academy, he had to.
The three of us stood before the headmaster in his office, our hands clasped behind our backs. The very picture of subservience.
“Have you anything to say in your defense, boy?”
“No,” Sunny said flatly. “I apologize for my transgression, sir. I don’t know what came over me.”
I do.
Alaric hummed, clearly not content with Sunny’s answer.
Jace Hudson said, “Headmaster, as Wrist of these Phantoms, I take responsibility for their actions. My own negligence allowed this to happen.”
“Admirable, Professor Hudson,” Alaric said, “and true. I will get to you in a moment.” He cleared his throat. “When students depart campus, heads filled with the secret knowledge of this place, the entire fabric of our institution is put at risk. Do you three understand that?”
“Yes sir,” we all said in unison.
The headmaster’s eyes fell on me and my blood ran cold. “Which brings me to you, Donovenn Gable. You left campus yourself to
retrieve the departed Ghost, Coralia Hargrave. Is that true?”
Sweat beaded my brow. “Yes sir.” I thought this meeting didn’t concern me?!
Alaric let out a “hmm,” and nodded, stroking his white beard. “As I understand it, however, you only left to retrieve the cadet. Also true?”
I nodded.
“Then you will not be reprimanded for your actions. You might have saved this Academy embarrassment.”
Relief flooded through me. I didn’t need to point out that students often left campus, despite the rule, when they took part in their final assignments. The five of us in Hudson’s Glove had been off campus grounds before. Dax being on a mission outside the Academy at the moment was another perfect example of the hypocrisy. However, those situations were under very specific circumstances, and they were closely watched.
As long as a student was away on the Academy’s time, it was fine. If they slunk off on their own, that’s when things got hairy.
Headmaster Cane’s beady eyes landed on Sunny. “Mister Conway, for your indiscretion, you will spend a week in the initiation cell. Is that understood?”
Sunny’s shoulders slumped. He opened his mouth to retort. I felt Jace’s elbow rib him in the side and Sunny quieted, giving the headmaster a glum nod instead. “Yes sir, I understand. I hope I can regain your trust in me.”
The headmaster grunted. “Professor Hudson, this event does not reflect well on you. Know you are on thin ice after today. A mark has been put against your record. Do not let your Glove get out of hand again, understood?”
Jace nodded. “Yes sir.”
I felt bad for Sunny. Does the punishment fit the crime? Who knows. Either way, he’d be fine in the initiation cell. It was a short prison sentence. I just hoped he came out of it a changed man, however unlikely that was.
As for Jace, I didn’t know what to think. He always seemed stoic in his reactions, unflappable, yet I could tell the decision hurt him by the way his jaw clenched and his brow twitched. He had only ever done good for the Academy. I felt his penalty was undeserving.