by K. F. Breene
“Have you ever even held a dagger, human?” James asked with a mystified voice.
“Or should we call you pet?” the redhead asked with a sneer.
The term punched me. I’d just chosen my new mortal enemy overachiever. I would be better than her at this stuff if it killed me.
I frowned, but didn’t say anything. I did almost chop the girl’s foot off. I kind of deserved that comment. Still, though…she better look out. I was gunning for her.
“Once,” I answered James quietly. “I used it in the battle not that long ago. Or fight? I don’t know what you guys call it? Before that, I used a letter opener because I didn’t have anything else on me at the time. Besides a whistle. The whistle actually came in handy. Surprisingly…”
Charles’ forehead hit his palm.
“You were in the battle?” A sandy haired boy smirked at me, nudging a black haired boy standing next to him. “Doing what? Hiding under your master’s bed?”
He also just made the list.
James clapped, quieting the snickers, but not dislodging the sneers. “Fine, pick up your weapon. You are way behind, but apparently one of the undisclosed higher-powers thought you needed to start this class right now, rather than waiting the few weeks until Mira starts the next one, so I guess we’ll have to do.”
Oh yeah, great. Thanks, James, for pointing that out. My classmates don’t hate me enough as it is…
Suppressing a grumble, I scooped up my dagger.
“Showboat,” Charles whispered under his breath, eyeing a lovely blonde with giant boobs.
“Like I meant to sever toes,” I snapped, trying to pay attention as James spoke about elements and metals and God only knew what.
“Okay, practice.” James clapped again. That must’ve been his thing. Clapping.
It was better than that weird maw sound Master Bert made.
“What am I practicing?” I asked Charles out of the side of my mouth.
Charles backed away quickly as James stepped up beside me. “Problem?”
My face heated. “Oh, no. Not at all, no. I was just…”
James’ eyebrows nudged his hair line.
“Turning the blade a color?” I finished hopefully.
“You are infusing your blade with power. If you are able to do it, your blade will turn a color, yes. Probably a lovely shade of purple, if you’re lucky.”
Riiight.
I glanced around. Everyone else had their blades basically glowing, with only a few still working on it. None of them showed any real strength at it, though. Not like Charles or Stefan— My groin swelled and my sexy systems started to ache. Since I’d seen him earlier, the craving had come back in force. His smell, his hard chest, his— “What is that…smell…” James glanced around, trying to identify it. “Warm cookies fresh out of the oven. Delicious.”
Two other men looked our way, sniffing.
“Okay, glowing sword, coming right up.” I closed my eyes, belatedly remembering that this was a different exercise than the fire element one I’d just practiced, and tried to shift gears. Too late. A sudden onslaught of power flooded me. It sneaked in from everywhere, boosting my power-level and clawing at my middle. Joy, heat, bliss, lava— Too much. I needed brakes!
A large palm met my cheek with surprising force. My head whipped around, power sizzling through my body and out through my limbs, finding release.
Everyone gasped.
I opened my eyes to a flaming sword. Bright red light streaked out of the tip and zipped into the ceiling above, tearing a shallow hole before soaking into the walls.
“Thank God it was pointing up,” I whispered with shock.
“Who sent you here, human?” James asked in a suspicious voice. His eyes swiveled to Charles, for the first time realizing I had a guard, not a fellow classmate. If there was one thing Charles did not need help with, it was operating a sword.
Either of his swords, actually. Just ask him.
“That’s classified?” I hedged.
“As you can see,” Charles spoke up, vaguely gesturing toward the hole in the ceiling, “she is a danger to herself and others. We identified her and had to bring her here until trained.”
“Oh, great, a dangerous pet. Who was the idiot who found her?”
I scowled at that sandy haired twerp who couldn’t keep his yapper shut.
“Me.” Charles straightened dramatically, the tattoos peeking out from under his shirt sleeves. Easily the tallest in the class, and certainly the most filled out, Charles was a stack of destructive muscle with a dangerous edge. His smoky gray eyes flashed with danger, his striking face drawing eyes. “I was doing my job as the Watch Captain.”
A few girls gasped and more than one guy shifted insecurely. When Charles wanted to put on a show, he stopped traffic.
“Class, class.” Clap, clap, clap. “Let’s get back to it. Sasha, you are excused. You are too dangerous for this class. Tell your master you will need to wait for Mira.”
My intestines iced over. Not only did he assume I had a master, like a slave, but he was sending me away without instruction. If I wasn’t taught, I’d surely fail. If this guy turned me away, the next instructor probably would, too. “But, I need to learn this…”
“That isn’t my problem,” James retorted, unconcerned. “I can’t have you killing a student because you can’t listen. Out you get.”
“James, really look at her for a second,” Charles murmured. “Take a big whiff.”
Before I could ask what that was about, James indignantly surveyed me. He leaned forward and inhaled. “What…” His eyebrows rumbled, prompting closer examination. “Why does it smell faintly of…”
Suddenly his face drained of color and he took a step back. “Mmm, yes, higher-level, I see.” He turned to Charles and offered a light bow. “She should probably stay. It isn’t distinctly clear that this is his property, hence my not noticing it at first, but…yes. I apologize—I was not aware the Boss took a pet.”
Ice turned slowly into fire. I needed instruction, yes, but I had my pride. Which this man, and Stefan, were stepping on.
I’d had enough. Of all of this. My whole life I’d tried to keep half of myself from people. Tried to hide and save face. Feared to completely be myself.
Well, screw that. I was sick of it. I didn’t lose my old life to end up in the same rut!
Fire surged, feeding off the last week of fear and uncertainty.
One big tear wobbled down my face. The redheaded girl laughed and said, “Uh oh, poor baby’s going to run to her master.”
Yes, I sure was. I was going to pull this weed out by the root. Then I might come back and punch her squarely in the jaw.
I pushed the pain of defeat down; let it harden my resolve. Let’s dance, Stefan!
“Where are you going?” Charles asked as the knuckles around my dagger turned white.
“To light some fireworks.”
If I didn’t stand up for myself, then what did I have left? Nothing. I’d be useless and broken.
My sword flashed a bright gold, my wobbly emotions not applying the brakes to the flow of magic.
“Sasha,” Charles said, warning in his voice. “Crying is probably better.”
My dagger started to smoke. Charles worried that too much magic was trying to force its way in. It wasn’t. For some reason I couldn’t explain, I had complete control. But then, I was heading into danger. That had always been the recipe, had it not? I rose to the occasion when there was surviving to do.
Didn’t matter why, though; I had an agenda.
Passed reason, I turned to Charles, my blade deepening in color. I opened myself up a crack more. Smoke billowed now, the blade grinning madly as its color pushed into a deep gold.
“If I were you, I would get lost. This is probably one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done.”
“Then why are you grinning? You know I can’t, Sasha. Don’t do this,” Charles pleaded.
Before I exited the large cl
assroom, I leveled with him. “Do you think I’m his pet, Charles? Do you think I’m here because he has a sexual interest in me?”
The large man hesitated, glancing back at the spectators.
“All rightie, then. Good chat.” I about-faced.
My blade turned a molten, burnished gold. The color of Stefan’s power. Let everyone see we were equal.
In power level, anyway.
Consulting my inner guide, also known as that nagging part of me that always strived to reach Stefan and was always aware of his presence, I turned my body toward the center of the house. The sun peeked out from behind the horizon, splattering my face and lifting my spirits. I loved the darkness, but I also craved the light. The night called to my magic, the day to my spirit.
Focusing on that part deep inside me that connected with Stefan, I brought it out and held it up, analyzing it. Analyzing him.
He worried. Something troubled him. Fear ate at the corners of his brain, distracting him.
I opened a large white door, the wood swinging on silent hinges. He had just stood up from his seat around a large table, eyes expectant, knowing I’d be walking in. Everyone else at the table followed his gaze. He held his sword in his left hand.
“Sasha, you need to calm down. Whatever’s the matter, we can discuss it.” He sounded so calm. A human lunatic with a knife wanted to poke holes in his stupid body, and he addressed me as if I asked about a petition.
“Is her dagger white?” someone whispered. Another gasped.
“Is she Trek’s creation? Is he controlling her?” a lady trilled.
He had been in the middle of a meeting. I didn’t care.
I had the knife, the power, the anger, the angst…I just needed a way to begin the duel. Somehow olé didn’t seem appropriate. Maybe I should slap him with a white glove…
“Can we speak of this in private?” Stefan tried again.
“Why, so you can pat me on the head, put me in chains, and tell everyone what a great pet I am?”
“They’ve been calling her pet all week, Boss,” Charles mumbled from the door. “Should I remove her?”
“Try it, Charles. Try to remove his majesty’s pet. See what happens.” Pain threatened to consume me, wobbling my lower lip. A single tear worked out of my eye. Not the time for vulnerability!
“This clan knows I do not take pets. I do not adhere to that practice.” Stefan stood tall, that danged connection calling me. Begging me to step forward and merge my body with his. To find the peace I sought within his arms.
I took a step back, my heart dropping an inch. My chest filled with lead, covering over that connection. Hiding it.
Stefan took a step, a strange apprehension peeking through his controlled mask. “What did you just do?”
“I’ve thought about your earlier offer for room and board. Thank you, but I decline. I think I’ll take my chances on my own.”
The door slammed behind me. Charles stood in front of it with a grim face and sorrowful eyes. He shook his head. “I can’t let you run away, Sasha. You remember what happened the last time.”
“We can’t let the enemy get hold of you.” Stefan’s voice grated. “They’re searching. You’ve nearly died by their hand twice. It’s me you have the problem with. Come with me now, we’ll speak about this.”
“So I’m a prisoner, is that it?”
“This is your home, now.”
“Living with a bunch of people who think I am a possession does not make this my home. Tell me, Stefan, how would you feel if your home consisted of a bunch of people who thought you were no better than someone’s dog? A dangerous dog, at that. A prized trophy, guarded constantly. They probably think I’m a sex slave, too. Can’t learn magic, human, no skills—I don’t belong here. I hear it all the time. I didn’t belong in my old life, either. Not with my old family, not with my old boyfriend—what does that make me, Stefan?” Pain welled up from down deep. “Unwanted. How could this possibly be a home?” Will I ever have one? Will I ever fit?
Stefan stared at me grimly.
The lethal poise of the Boss’s body shook my confidence. Flouting his dominance in front of his subjects was definitely the stupidest thing I’d ever done, and I’d done some pretty eyebrow raising stuff. He wasn’t a guy I would fight and live long enough to gossip about. I needed to go, and I did not plan to let Charles the Double Crosser bar my way. Not ever again.
“Move, Charles, or I will move you.”
Pity overcame his expression. “This is best for you, Sasha. You have to see that.”
“This is the second time I ask. There will not be a third. Please move.”
“Sasha.” Stefan took another step toward me. His face held a command, stern and disapproving.
“Just beguile her,” someone said with exasperation. “Make her listen. Your plaything is out of control, Boss, excuse me for saying. She—“
Way wrong term.
I turned with a now-black blade, my other hand outstretched, pointing at a man with a round face and double chin. Black smoke surrounded him, binding him to his chair. Magic taxed my body, prickling my skin with heat. I was close to the cusp. I pushed my palm through the air. His chair flew backward, knocking a lamp and globe out of the way before hitting, then putting a hole through, the wall behind him.
“If you do not stop this right now, I will be forced to stop you.” Stefan had his sword up. The tattoos on his arms glowed that burnished gold.
It felt as if something scrabbled through my chest. He searched for the link. He could use it to smother my magic. And he would. He could control all of this. He knew how to work the elements just so, how to build—whatever Master Bert had said—and hone…that other thing. He operated with calm and level-headed knowledge.
I operated by the seat of my pants. I’d been lucky so far. My butt tingle told me it was about to end.
A wildness crept into me, something primal and fierce. I moved like a rabid animal from a net. Pointing my sword at the door, I blasted a hole through the handle, turning my blade back to white; I didn’t have much stamina—magic required energy to use and sustain. Like a runner, you had to work at endurance. I hadn’t been at this for long.
Charles stood his ground with the grim faced courage he was known for throughout the clan. I darted at him, slapping my hand against his arm, and electrifying it as I did so. He flew sideways as if from an explosion.
A quick glance told me Stefan had started running, seeing that my escape attempt would work.
“Sasha, please, don’t!” he shouted.
Too late.
Already weakening, I ran like the devil was chasing me, lighting through the hallways, rooms, and corridors, letting my inner compass guide me. It had never led me astray, even before all this magic mumbo-jumbo, and I trusted it now.
I burst out of the doors into the bright sunlight, my vision a cloud of white while my pupils tried to contract. I stumbled, hitting a tree and falling to my knees. Up a second later, shouting sounding off behind me, I started to run, no destination in mind.
Chapter 3
Stefan exploded into the sunlight and immediately had to shield his eyes, the rays like daggers stabbing into the back of his skull. Someone handed him sunglasses. He straightened up slowly, still squinting, working at that damn link. She shouldn’t have been able to disguise it. That wasn’t how it worked.
“Which direction, Boss?” Charles asked, stepping to his side. His voice held traces of worry. He’d grown attached.
Stefan shook his head, scanning the tree line. “Woods, but I have no idea where. I can’t…” He shook his head again.
“What does a black blade mean? I haven’t heard of black. Is it between white and gold?”
“It’s a step beyond white.”
“Couldn’t be.” Jameson stepped to Stefan’s other side. He didn’t care about the human—about Sasha—but he had figured out Stefan’s claim on her, the soft mark, and knew she was important in some way. For that alone, Jameson
would rally. He was a solid choice as Second.
“That’s a myth,” Jameson stated.
“You were in that room,” Stefan said simply, working at that damn link. When her power faltered, he’d uncover it. He’d find her. He just hoped it wasn’t too late.
“Theatrics?” Jameson walked forward, eyes low on a tree trunk.
“She’d just picked that blade off the wall at random,” Charles said, shaking his head. “It wasn’t theatrics. She’s been doing weird things. Weird magic. Bert is flabbergasted. James probably is, too, though he only saw it for a second. She took that pet stuff very…badly.”
Charles, the fucking master observer.
“I can track her.” Jameson slowly walked to the tree line. “She didn’t take it easy. Her footprints are messy.”
“Do it!”
“If she has black magic, she could turn the war…” Jameson let the thought trail away.
“She’s completely untrained.” Stefan’s eyes searched the ground behind Jameson, finding a shoe print. “She was the one who disbanded all the Dulca in the battle, I’m sure of it. They react to her, are drawn to her magic. They speak to her in a language she can understand.”
Jameson straightened and looked back at him, his face clouding with uncertainty. It was Charles who responded to the silent accusation.
“She isn’t working for Trek. She’s barely working for herself, and she has a vested interest in staying alive. She learns incredibly fast with hands-on, but try to explain something to her and at the end of your sermon, she’ll still be looking at a flower instead of you, completely oblivious. She isn’t a spy. Definitely is not a spy.”
“How can you be sure? Spies are deceptive…”
Charles laughed. “Yeah, she’s deceptive, all right. You’ll think she’ll say or do one thing, then she does something else entirely, not even knowing why herself. No, spend any amount of time with her. That chick ain’t no spy!”
Jameson shook his head, his glance passing by Stefan. He worried. Hell, so did Stefan in the beginning.
The blockage cleared suddenly, and just like that, he felt her again. Her misery, her depression, her utter hopelessness. Stefan’s heart constricted. He started to run.