by Laney Powell
After class, Carla tucked her arm through mine, and hurried me along. “What was going on with you? You looked completely… “
“Completely what?” I asked. I didn’t want to talk about Xavier. I wanted to keep him to myself, if just for a minute. Once Sorcha found out, there would be nothing that I could keep to myself. I knew that she would be the absolute opposite of discreet. And honestly, I didn’t need any hell from that bony-assed girl.
“I don’t know, all out of sorts,” she muttered.
I laughed. “Out of sorts? What are you, my granny?”
“Well, you look off,” Carla grumbled. “And you still haven’t answered me about what’s going on with you?”
“Why does anything have to be going on?” I asked.
“You look guilty,” Carla shot back. “That’s why.”
“I look that way a lot,” I said. “Come on, let’s go to lunch. At least now, I know where this stupid classroom is.”
Together, we walked to the large hall for lunch. I was relieved that I’d made it out from under more questions.
Xavier wasn’t something I felt ready to talk about. Not yet.
Chapter Seven
Over the next two weeks, I only saw Xavier a couple of times. Half the time, the amazingly annoying Sorcha was around him, and she made sure to smile at me, draping an arm or some other part of herself over him. I kept my face still when I saw her. I didn’t want her to know either, not until Xavier and I settled whatever the hell it was between us.
Although if there was something between us, why the fuck did he let that deranged Barbie hang all over him? I didn’t understand it. I thought I was keeping everything under wraps until Nicola nudged me one evening after yet another sighting of Sorcha.
“What is up with you? You have to stop staring at her like she ran over your dog,” she said.
“Who gives a shit about what Sorcha does?” I asked.
“Obviously you do,” Nicola said. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be setting her on fire every time you look at her.”
“She’s so ridiculous,” I growled, tired of pretending it didn’t bother me.
“Yeah, but why?” Nicola was thoughtful. “She and Xavier have been sort of a thing for at least a year. I haven’t seen her get this way… well, ever,” she said. “So why?”
“Because she knows evil bitches don’t hang onto relationships,” I said.
“Well, we know that’s not true. I think you make her nervous.”
Those words kicked me right out of my funk. “Good. She’s an ass.”
“Yes, but she’s an ass from a family that thinks they’re a big deal, so try not to antagonize her too much,” Nicola said. “Okay, enough from that black hole of happiness. We have better things to talk about.”
Yes, we did. But Xavier and I were going to talk. Because Sorcha wasn’t the only ridiculous thing going on here. You didn’t just kiss someone like that and walk away.
At least, I didn’t.
However, fate, and whatever else conspired against me. I saw him throughout the week, and he even gave me that panty-dropping grin, but it was always from a distance.
My Xavier-based irritation gave way to other concerns. Even though I’d been at Darklight less than three weeks, my instructors weren’t fooling around. In my Water Training class, one of the exercises had me on my ass. I was trying to control water, and make it move from a bowl in front of me. Finally, after so many attempts (the rest of the class was struggling as well, so I didn’t feel like the worst loser) I got mad, cast the spell, and not only did the water come out and hit me right in the face, the bowl slammed into my chest.
“Miss Nox, you need to go to the infirmary,” Tahlia said. “Just to make sure that’s not serious.”
“Are broken ribs serious?” I gasped.
Someone, probably one of the Sorcha crew, snickered.
“Yes,” Justine was calm.
“Can’t you fix it?” I asked, trying to catch my breath.
“I can, but we refer all injuries to the infirmary,” Justine’s tone brooked no argument. “Go.”
Nicola had pointed it out to me during lunch one day. It was attached to the dining hall. I made my way down, holding onto my side. I didn’t need magic to know if they weren’t broken, I was going to be black and blue on my left side.
I opened the door to the infirmary, still clutching at my side. There was one other person in the room, and a short woman clad in black standing in front of him.
“Carrick, you have got to get your shit under control,” she said.
Whoa. I hadn’t heard any of the teachers or instructors or adults in charge—even though I was an adult, too, I felt like a kid at times—swear.
Carrick, who had long brown hair pulled up into a ratty mess on his head, looked down at his feet. He mumbled something I couldn’t understand.
I stared away at the wall, trying to pretend I couldn’t hear the ass chewing.
“You could have killed him. You know this!” the woman shook a finger in his face. “I expect better from you.”
“He’s an ass and he kills cats,” Carrick said.
The woman stood up, momentarily silenced. “He kills cats?”
Carrick nodded.
I wasn’t even trying to pretend anymore. I hoped he would name the jackass who killed cats. That was like… the worst.
“He’s going to drag us into a major shit show,” Carrick said, standing up.
He had to be six-five, six-six. He was built, really built. His skin was darker than mine. He was darker than a lot of the pale women I’d gotten used to seeing in my siren classes—the contrast was appealing. He looked like someone who spent a lot of time in the sun. Looking at him, I had a longing to be outside, in the bright afternoon sun. He had dark brows, and I caught a glimpse of dark eyes. As he stretched, I could see tats on his biceps.
He was gorgeous.
“No one told me that,” the woman said. “Are you all right?”
Carrick rolled his eyes. “Of course they didn’t. He’s from a good family,” he said, parroting someone he obviously didn’t approve of. “That whole family is crap, and we all know it. I’m fine,” he said, putting his hands out in front of him. “He’s not that skilled. It’s why he picks on cats.”
The woman’s lips thinned, and the two of them stared at one another, the giant man and the little woman. Then she turned, as though noticing me for the first time. “Can I help you?” her voice still held worry.
I clutched my side. “I need to make sure they’re not broken.”
“What happened to you?” she asked, coming to me as though Carrick wasn’t even there, looming over us all.
“I was trying to move water. I moved the bowl, too,” I muttered.
Carrick let out a bark of laughter. “There you go, Cressida. A real injury. I’m fine.”
“I’ll speak with you after dinner,” Cressida said, glaring up at him.
Carrick stepped around her. “Carrick Shade, kick-ass reaper,” he held out his hand to me.
I took it, my hand disappearing into his, and looked up. I fell into his eyes, which were a warm brown with a golden twinkle. How come a reaper looked so friendly and sexy?
“Raven Nox, siren,” I said.
His dark brows went up. “Oh, you’re the new girl. The one who just found out, right?”
I sighed. “Yes. News travels fast,” I rolled my eyes.
“Not much else to do except talk about each other,” he said.
Cressida said, “Let me get the table ready. I’ll need you to lie down, Raven,” she moved into another small room.
Carrick leaned down, my hand still in his, and brought my hand to his lips. “Meeting you is the best thing that’s happened to me all day,” he said.
“Only the day?” I found myself falling into a flirtatious tone, which I never did.
“Maybe the week.” He gazed down at me as his lips brushed against my hand, making me completely forget what the hell
I’d come here for, my ribs, everything. “Definitely the week. Okay. Maybe even the month,” he breathed.
I felt drawn to him, reaching out to touch him.
His other hand captured mine, holding it to his chest. “Definitely the month,” he said. “When can I see you again?”
I blinked, thinking about how I’d felt meeting Devin, and then Xavier. Well, despite the obvious attraction on my side, nothing was happening with either of them. I’d only seen Devin once since the first night I’d been here, and Xavier was playing footsie from a distance, unable to remove the Sorcha from him.
“Tonight?” I asked, feeling my voice catch in my throat.
“Tonight,” he said. Then Carrick let go of both my hands, and I felt bereft.
Cressida chose that moment to come back in. “All right, Raven. Come on back. I’m ready for you.”
“Nice meeting you, Raven Nox,” Carrick said.
“You too,” I managed.
With a smile and a wink, he left, moving gracefully for such a big guy. I blinked, the spell that he’d drawn around the two of us gone.
Cressida laughed. “You’d never think it, would you?”
“Think what?” I asked, my mind on Carrick Shade.
“That reapers would be so appealing.”
“They’re all like that?” I blurted without thinking.
She nodded. “We are.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re one, too? And you’re the healer?” I couldn’t take it all in.
“I like medicine. When you see as many people pass over as I do, you can’t help it,” she shrugged. “But yes, reapers have a built-in appeal.”
“Why?” This didn’t fit in with my idea of what a reaper was.
“Because who wants to go somewhere with a bony dude in a cape?” Cressida laughed again. “Death isn’t always a horrible thing. Reapers have found being appealing, offering a pleasant step into the next stage of the soul’s journey makes things easier on everyone involved.”
“That makes sense,” I followed her into a small dark room with a table.
“Hop up,” Cressida said. “I’ll do a quick x-ray, and then all my magic-y voodoo, and we’ll get you fixed up.
She chattered at me while she worked, but all I could think about was the fact that I’d made a date with a reaper.
“You’re pretty bruised,” Cressida said. “Nothing to do for that but over the counter pain relievers.”
“What? There isn’t a spell for that?” I asked. I was only sort of joking.
“No, we don’t use magic unless there’s a need,” Cressida said, and a shadow crossed her face.
“What the hell—I mean, what does that mean? I’m bruised and it hurts. How is that not a need?”
Cressida didn’t answer right away. It seemed as though she was considering what she wanted to say. “Well, you know that we are a school of… “
“The undesirables?” I finished.
“No, of those with occasionally problematic histories. I’m a reaper. You’re a siren. We’ve both been part of human death. And to a lot of the supernatural world, things that involve humans as part of who we are increases the risk of exposure.”
“That’s why we have legends. No one really believes them,” I said.
“Yes, well, that might be so, but the Concilium—”
“Who are these jokers? I met some of them, and one was really a complete pain,” I interrupted again. Cornelius had been a pain, even as I liked Margiana.
“No one wants to be reprimanded,” Cressida said. “So back to your question—we have to show, at all times, that we aren’t using magic unnecessarily. This is one of those times.” She shrugged.
“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” I said.
She sighed. “I know. I’ve fought against this until I feel like I’m about to expire, and it doesn’t make any difference.”
“So I have to suffer when there’s magic healing?”
“Had you broken a rib, yes, I could have healed it. Bruising, you can heal on your own.”
I slid down off the table. “That is so stupid. None of these rules make any sense.”
Cressida looked at me, and I could see, in that moment, that she was old, far older than I’d thought. “No, but when people operate out of fear, sense is not usually part of the decision.”
I sighed, and grabbed my bag that I’d left in the front room. “Well, thanks for trying to fix me up.”
“You can have some ibuprofen. I have a healthy supply of that,” Cressida said. She handed me a packet from a tall cabinet.
“I’ll take it, but it’s still shitty,” I grumbled, pocketing the packet.
“I agree. Come back if you need more,” she smiled.
I left the infirmary. The whole idea that we were somehow something to be feared—like a ticking time bomb or something—really grated on my nerves. Well, maybe the rest of the supernatural world had met too many Sorchas, I thought, snickering to myself. I’d think the same thing if someone like her was my point of reference.
But it gave me a hint of what being a siren meant. I’d always be seen as potentially bad, or a problem. As I walked back to my room, I mulled that over. It wasn’t so different from being at home on New Castle. With my dad, and my family history, there were people who felt I wasn’t “quite nice” and made their kids keep a distance.
“Same shit, different day,” I said out loud. I let myself into my room, falling back against the door when I closed it behind me. Despite my ribs, and my general irritation at the way this new world of mine viewed me and those like me, I felt zings of excitement.
I had a date.
And yes, I had homework, and spells to practice, and I seriously needed to work on my meditation. But I had a date. With a guy who looked like he’d just finished a day surfing of the shore of a Pacific island. When he’d been close to me, kissing my hand, I felt like I was warmed by the sun.
I couldn’t wait to see Carrick Shade again.
Chapter Eight
I’d been primping in the mirror for at least the last seven minutes. I had rushed through dinner tonight, using homework and my recent injuries as the reason I didn’t want to hang out and gossip, which the four of us—me, Carla, Nicola and Bettina—usually did. I’d seen Xavier with a group of guys that I guessed were demons, and surprisingly, there was no Sorcha hanging all over him. But we didn’t have a chance to talk. I also didn’t see Devin, although I looked for him at every meal. By now, I knew were the groups of supes sat. Most hung together, although it wasn’t separated deliberately.
There were sirens, vampires, and demons. Then the necromancers, who all looked a lot like Devin—surly. But I remembered what Madame Perpetua had told me—that every necromancer was different, and they didn’t have a pattern or mold. That must not only be difficult to teach, it must suck to try and figure out what the hell you are. There were reapers, although tonight, I didn’t even glance their way. I was afraid I’d see Carrick, and give myself up before I’d even had a chance to be bad or anything else with him.
There were gorgons and dragons as well. Bettina told me there was a small group of harpies, but they didn’t really go for eating in public. When I asked why, she told me that they liked to eat their food raw, tearing it from the bone. Too many people stared—so they had their own dining room. Which made sense.
So while I was absorbing all this history about Darklight Academy, I was also thinking about what to wear. Although if I had anything to say about it, what I wore wouldn’t matter. I didn’t plan on wearing it all that long. Everything I knew about Carrick, which wasn’t much, told me he would be of the same persuasion. I hoped so.
Finally, I settled on leggings, a loose scoop neck tee shirt that showed off my cleavage, and shoes that I could kick off easily. I sat in one of the chairs by the fireplace, which I’d lit, and waited.
The knock on the door wasn’t loud, but it reverberated through my bones. I jumped up, and ran to the door. Then I stopped, took
a breath, and opened it.
Carrick Shade filled my doorway.
“Hey,” he said.
“Come in,” I replied, stepping out of the way and admiring just how damn big he was.
“I thought you looked amazing in the uniforms. You look even better out of it,” he said, his voice husky. He was dressed in black jeans, and a black tee shirt. He wore leather bands around each wrist.
I took a step toward him and smelled warmth, and the sun. Surfer. It made me think of the short but hot summer days on the beach at New Castle. All he needed was some coconut oil, and it would be perfect.
“What do you smell?” Carrick asked.
“What?” I opened my eyes, feeling my cheeks warm. I hadn’t realized that I’d leaned in and closed my eyes to sniff him.
“We smell different to everyone. It’s always something that they love,” he shrugged. “What do you smell?”
“Oh, yeah, the reaper thing,” I said, trying to recover. Some seductress I was.
“It’s how it is. So what was it?”
“The sun on the beach,” I said. “Do you surf?”
He grinned. “Never tried it.”
“Well, you look it,” I said, feeling shy.
Carrick didn’t reply, but leaned down and kissed me. Lightly, gently, almost asking a question.
I lifted my arms and wrapped them around his neck. His arms went around my waist and brought me close to him, holding me tight to his chest. He deepened the kiss, his tongue thrusting into my mouth.
I wrapped my legs around his middle. You know, in case he was unsure or something.
He laughed, his head falling back from me. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”
“Would you rather talk?” I asked, breathless.
“No,” Carrick said, walking away from the door with me still wrapped around him. “I like your idea better.”
“Good,” I pulled his head to mine and kissed him, taking the lead, devouring his mouth. It had been a while since I’d had a date, and since I’d come here, it was as if my hormones were sixteen and boy crazy again. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this much need, this much want.