by KC Kingmaker
The Gable Training Facility.
We had made it back.
What a trio we were, struggling to limp into Shadowblade Academy.
But we had made it.
Now we need to lick our wounds, figure out what the fuck is going on . . . and punish those bastards.
Chapter 35
Coralia
I JOLTED AWAKE SOMETIME later, dark nightmares chasing me out of my dreams. As they faded, the specifics of the nightmares slipped away.
I squinted up at blinding white LED lights. The intensity of the light gave me an immediate headache, their brightness blurring my vision with stars.
I closed my eyes and breathed heavily, trying to focus on my body. A quick self-analysis told me everything seemed all right. I could feel all my limbs. I was massively dehydrated, with cracked lips and a leathery tongue, but I was alive.
A beep brought my attention to the right, where an IV machine did its thing, the drip-bag stuck into my arm. My eyes widened as I wondered where I was and what had happened.
“The infirmary,” a soothing, deep voice said to my left. I craned my neck and caught Dax giving me a small smile from a hospital bed next to me. “Again.”
“Ugh.”
“Are you all right?”
My forehead creased when I rubbed my temples. “This headache is brutal. I’ll be okay. How about you?”
“Sunder took too much from you,” he said, ignoring my question.
“Took too . . .” I trailed off, vague memories cascading like a waterfall: shadowwalking through portals with Sunny; fighting demonic bastards; Vivi getting taken from us; the heady, lustful sensation of Sunny feeding on me like I was his toy. “So those demons were real? I had hoped they were nightmares.”
“Unfortunately not.”
We let a peaceful silence fall over the room, which was only big enough for our two gurneys and perhaps a couple visitors. It was the first moment of quiet I could remember in at least twenty-four hours. “What a doozy of a day,” I mumbled to myself.
“Do you remember when you first came here? To the infirmary?”
I snorted, which hurt my sinuses. I promised not to do it again. “How could I forget? Genevieve had just handed me my ass.”
“After you stood up for your friend.”
My lips folded, tongue pressed against my bottom teeth. “Yeah, well, how valiant of me to get fucked up in the name of loyalty.”
“It is valiant, Coralia. I’ll never forget you doing that. I doubt Charli Fairfax will either.”
“It was nothing. I was probably just trying to make a name for myself.”
I could feel Dax’s eyes boring into me as I stared up at the bright ceiling. “You don’t actually believe that.”
No, I didn’t. What did it matter? What was he getting at?
Before I could ask, Dax said, “Donovenn was right, Coralia. There’s something special about you. Don’t tell Sunny, but I think it’s a specialness even your sister didn’t have.”
“Doesn’t have,” I snapped.
“Pardon?”
“She’s not dead, Dax. Don’t speak about her in the past tense.”
“My apologies.” He turned his head to stare at the ceiling.
I had only snapped because his compliments made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t good at taking them. The silence that lingered this time was less companionable, begging to be filled.
“Venn.” I groaned, recalling the event leading up to the debacle at Asberald City—the torrid lovemaking in the forest. “He said that about me?”
“It was why he was the most enthusiastic about finding you and, erm, bringing you in.”
“You mean kidnapping me from my home.”
“Yes.”
I smiled wistfully. It was a nice thought, imagining Venn cared for me more that just being a good lay.
Dax continued. “I believe Donovenn is smitten with you. Actually, I know he is, because I can smell him on you.”
My eyes bulged. “Y-You—what?”
“It’s not any business of mine. I won’t be telling anyone. Namely Sunny. He is a possessive, angry one.” He winked. “Panther shifters have an excellent sense of smell.”
Spirits finger me—he can smell the sex on me? Is that possible after all I’ve been through since the forest? “Why are you telling me all this, Dax?”
“I’m not sure. Perhaps so you don’t sink into a depression. I know you blame yourself for Genevieve’s disappearance, when it was not your fault. If anything, Sunny shoulders the burden the most.”
Well, he was right about me blaming myself. How could I not, after I’d basically taken Sunny’s side—the man who had been freaking strangling the girl when I walked in on them—and forced Vivi to show us where she had followed Myria?
My sister’s disappearance had trumped all reason. I’d seen an opening into possibly locating her and had taken it, despite Genevieve being the rare victim in that situation. Subconsciously, it probably hadn’t helped that I disliked her, also. That had made my decision easy.
Yet Dax had the audacity to call me valiant. If only he’d known the truth of what I’d done. What I’d partaken in.
He said something in a low voice but I was too lost in my thoughts to hear him. The words, however, filled me with a cozy vibe. “What was that?” I asked, jerking my head.
“Nothing.”
“Say it. Please.”
Dax sighed. He wouldn’t look at me. “Perhaps your wellbeing isn’t why I’m telling you all this. Perhaps I’m telling you for a selfish reason, not a selfless one: Because I’m smitten with you too.”
My heart fluttered, the gooey feeling spreading. “You are?”
A curt nod. “I believe I have been ever since watching you stand up to Genevieve when you were still a fresh Ghost.”
I narrowed my eyes on Dax, studying his onyx skin while he stared away from me in apparent shame. He had such a beautiful complexion and such an interesting way about him. A formal, respectful man who refused to call anyone by their nicknames—even his brothers, referring to them as Donovenn and Sunder.
There was a hint of sadness in his eyes he hid better than the others. He almost seemed sociopathic at times, able to keep his emotions behind a steel wall. Yet I had caught the shame that crinkled his eyes on a few occasions. If you studied him hard enough, you could find it there, just under the surface.
He was a man fraught with mystery. An enigma.
I felt like I knew less about Dax than anyone in Hudson’s Glove, save perhaps Quentin, who no one really liked to talk about.
I knew Venn’s sad back story, where he’d essentially been exiled from the Unseelie Court and disowned from his family. I knew about Sunny’s love for my sister and the pain he’d felt at seeing me come to replace her.
I didn’t know shit about Dax Kilmeade. Until a few hours ago, I hadn’t even known what type of supernatural being he was!
His enigmatic personality wasn’t because I had interacted with him the least. I was a good read of character and knew that even if I’d spent all the time in the world with Dax, if he didn’t want to unveil himself, he wouldn’t. It was as simple as that. He had no problem keeping secrets and thoughts on lockdown.
“Can you stop staring at me?” he asked suddenly. “I’m not used to feeling this way.”
I nearly laughed. “What way?”
“Nervous.”
At that, I did let out a short bark of surprise. I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it, not sure if I could find the words. Not sure if I could explain what had just passed through my mind, because it baffled me.
I think I’m smitten with you too, Dax. I think, in some weird way, I’m smitten with all you guys.
The idea hit me like a bulldozer. I couldn’t imagine trying to be with all three of them. I wasn’t sure of the decorum. In my world, polyamory was looked down upon by the mainstream. It was unconventional at best, deceitful at worst.
How the hell did this happen? I
get stuck with three strange, painfully attractive men who are nothing alike, and then fall for all of them for different reasons.
I love Venn’s infectious spirit. His positivity. His smile. His perseverance and optimism in spite of being from a race of people who are almost universally hated. He works to fight stereotypes, which is admirable.
I love the solidness of Dax. He rescued me against the demons, literally appearing out of nowhere. He helped me after my first bout with Genevieve. I have no doubt he would do it all again in a heartbeat. Dax is someone I can feel safe with, at all times, just by his cool nature and stoicism.
And Sunny . . . fuck, don’t even get me started on him. He’s the guy I love to hate and hate to love. Such a contrast between the almost vulnerable vampire in the initiation cell—the tortured soul—and the angry, aggressive man who holds loyalty and remembrance in the highest regard. Thoughts about my sister still make him just as pissed as they did months ago when she first went missing. If I could make him care for me like that, Sunny Conway is a man I’d love to have in my corner.
If I was ever going to bring up my feelings to the three of them—which I highly doubted at the moment, because I was definitely not there yet—how could I possibly broach the subject?
I mean, I’ve had sex with Venn already. Does that mean he gets to “claim” me? Is that how things work with supernatural people? Or can I reach over, run my hand across Dax’s cheek to soothe his worries, and not be thought of like a disloyal slut?
Before I could gather the courage to do or say anything, the door to the room opened.
I felt like we were both thankful for the intrusion.
A bearded, salty-haired, slightly overweight doctor in a white coat walked in. He looked like any normal doctor I’d see in my hometown, complete with a stethoscope slung over his neck—definitely not of the supernatural variety who worked on paranormal patients.
“Thought I heard laughing in here,” he said, voice deep. “That’s good.” He took one look at both of us, and when his eyes fell on me his brow pulled inward. “Ah, Miss Hargrave. How delightful of you to make your return to us.”
I frowned.
He paused a beat, then chuckled. “That was a joke. We hope that once we see patients, we never see them again.”
“Ah. Sorry.” I gave him an awkward smile. The doctor sounded affable, but somehow he made me feel guilty for getting hurt, which was kind of shitty.
“I’m Dr. Merryman. You probably don’t remember me. You were a bit loopy last time.”
Dr. Feelgood, again with the condescension.
“You have a visitor,” he continued, and my heart instinctively tightened. “But first, let’s check up on you two.” The doctor walked over to Dax’s gurney, picked up a clipboard attached, flipped through some papers with “hmms” and “ahhs,” and then nodded. “You’ll need a bit more time here, Mr. Kilmeade. Your vitals still aren’t where we need them to be.”
“He’ll live though?” I blurted.
Merryman smiled. “Oh, don’t be silly. Of course he will.”
“I only ask because he was banged up pretty hard,” I explained, growing a bit tired of Dr. Merryman. It was hard to explain my gripe with the guy.
“Shifters have a miraculous capacity to heal. Mr. Kilmeade won’t require a blood transfusion or surgery or anything of the sort. Just another day or two of rest.”
“Okay.”
With that, the doctor patted Dax on the shoulder and walked over to my gurney. He checked my IV and took a look at my clipboard. “You, on the other hand, were given a blood transfusion to get you back up to speed. You’ll be fine too, Miss Hargrave. In fact, you already are.”
“I am?”
He nodded. “You’re discharged.”
“Really?”
His nod slowed. “We need to make room for a new arrival. Poor guy was walking through the park when a ball blasted out of a tree’s shadow and smacked him right in the face. Broke his nose. Can you believe that?”
I gave him another disjointed smile. “Uh, Shadowball, am I right?”
“Quite.” He patted me on the shoulder and headed for the door. “Oh, right,” he said once there. “Your visitor.”
Dr. Merryman exited and I heard sniffles on the other side. Orange shocks of hair were the first thing I saw, followed by Charli’s tear-glistened, freckled face. “Cor Cor!”
My eyes welled at the sight of my lovable friend. It felt like I hadn’t seen her in months, even though it had been less than twenty-four hours. Bruce Kittenson, who she wore like a tiny, furry backpack, poked his head over her shoulder and meowed at me.
Charli ran over, arms out, ready for a huge hug. As she reached me, she paused, confusion screwing up her face. “Um, is it okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”
I put my arms out and smiled. As the un-huggable type, I would have never expected this to become who I was: a person who wanted nothing more than to feel Charli’s skinny arms give me a monstrous squeeze.
She squealed and jumped into my embrace. “I missed you so much,” she sniffled. “So did Brucey.”
We stayed like that for a good five minutes, slowly rocking side to side, the hug causing more harm than Sunny’s feeding frenzy, probably, with how hard she latched onto me.
“Doctor said I’m good to go,” I said after I was finally forced to break the hug.
“Okay, great! Let’s roll.”
“Wait,” I said, finding Dax over her shoulder. He was staring up at the ceiling, but he turned at the same time and we locked eyes. I noticed the slight arch of his eyebrows, the slight sadness on his face. “I want to stay,” I said. “To keep Dax company.”
His brow furrowed. “Nonsense, Coralia. You’ll sleep better in your own bed. Don’t worry about me.” He winced ever so slightly when he tried to sit up.
“Nah, fuck that. We’re a team, right?”
His blink was vacant. Faraway. Then understanding dawned inside those dark orbs and a small smile came to his lips. He looked proud. “Yes, Coralia. We’re a team.”
Chapter 36
Venn
IT TOOK ME ALL DAY to muster the courage to confront Headmaster Cane.
Following the unbelievable romp in the woods with Coralia, my feelings for her grew to new heights. I hadn’t heard from her since the night before, which was not a good sign. I also hadn’t heard from my Glovemates, which left me plenty of time to think . . . and wallow.
I had an idea how Coralia would react when I eventually told her the truth about me. She was a spitfire.
I needed her to forgive me.
Finally, I couldn’t ride my anxiety any longer. I burst into Fort Nocturnus as the sun was beginning to set. An orange haze spread through the first level of the ancient castle from the stained-glass windows.
I made my way down the red-carpeted hallways, up a flight of stairs, and came to his primary office chambers. A guard outside glanced at me suspiciously as I approached. “I have business with the headmaster,” I said, lifting my chin high.
The tall man, clad in the black leather armor of the Academy, turned his masked face to regard me. “He’s been expecting you.”
I suppressed a shiver and blew past him.
The headmaster was stooped over his desk, writing something on parchment. The ink and quill he used made it seem important. Without looking up, he said, “Donovenn Gable.”
“The guard says you’ve been expecting me, sir. Why?”
He said nothing for a moment, the soft scratching of his writing taking up all the air in the room. When he put his quill down and stared at me with his sunken, beady eyes, I couldn’t read his face through his grandfatherly beard. “It’s not a matter of ‘why,’ son. You spy for me, I spy for everyone. It’s in the Academy’s best interest.”
The shiver I’d been keeping at bay rushed through me at his nonchalant admission. If he’s been spying on me, does he know about my woodland excursion with Coralia? I had to assume he did, even though I didn’t
see how that was possible. I would have picked up on anyone watching us.
I blinked away the doubt—the pull inside urging me to flee. Steeling myself, my hands curled into fists at my sides. “With all due respect, Headmaster Cane, I won’t go through with it.”
“Through with what?” He raked a hand through his beard, interest gleaming in his eyes.
“I won’t kill Coralia.”
“Kill her—”
“I know it’s coming,” I blurted, cutting him off to roll into a spiel. “Shadowblade Academy trains assassins. Final assignments are exterminations used to prove our loyalty. That’s how it always is. After spying on someone, it only makes sense an extermination will be my final assignment as a Phantom. And who else but—”
He raised a bony hand, which caused my babbling to abruptly stop. My heartbeat rushed in my ears.
“I can tell you’ve gone to painful lengths to prepare yourself for this, Donovenn. So I ask: What sort of operation do you think I’m running here?”
“Death squads, Headmaster!”
His frown was pronounced beneath his beard. “Death squads. And who do we kill?”
I hesitated. “Those who deserve it?” Or those you deem necessary to take out, anyway.
“Quite right. And does Coralia Hargrave deserve it?”
“No.” My voice was emphatic.
He lowered his chin. “Then why on earth would I want you to kill her, son?”
My mouth opened but no sound came out. Shock reeled me. “Huh?” was all I could come up with, utterly confused.
“I said, why on earth would I want you to assassinate Coralia Hargrave?”
“Well, I assumed, for my final Phantom test—”
“No. Wrist Hudson has already been designated his Glove’s final test. It seems recent events have forced our hand early this year. It’s unorthodox to place the final so close to the midterm, but it can’t be helped. He will apprise his team shortly of the mission, I’m sure. Including you.”
I didn’t know what to say. I was rattled. “So I don’t have to kill Coralia?”