by D. R. Perry
“Hi, Nox.” Olivia blinked a few times, then rubbed her eyes. When she opened them again, they had unusually large pupils, even for a gal who could turn into an owl. One of my other ancestors, a former doctor, inwardly cringed. I hoped she didn’t have a stroke or a heart attack.
I nodded, keeping all the concern to myself. Blaine’s lips curled, then parted. His smile was like neon in a 1970s roller rink. I couldn’t decide whether he liked me or liked baiting Grandpa even more. Since he studied magic artifacts and anthropology, he had to know a little something about the ancestors all Kelpies and Selkies carried around in their pelts.
Blaine couldn’t be old enough to have actually met my grandfather, but his mom might have. Rumor painted Mrs. Harcourt as an honest to goodness warrior princess. Her involvement in stamping out the post-Reveal violence all over Rhode Island only reinforced that reputation. Her son, on the other hand, was a genius-variety entitled brat.
“What’s wrong, Nox?” Blaine’s voice had a little lilt that let me know a sarcasm bomb was incoming. “Feeling a little hoarse?”
My nostrils flared as I tried to lock myself down and somehow stop the tidal-wave of magical anger Grandpa and all the rest of my ancestors unanimously agreed on unleashing. I stared at a knot in the wooden table in front of me. I imagined roots plunged deep in the soil, siphoning water out, leashing that force to use for nourishment and protection. When the ends of my hair started dripping, I clenched my fist, trying to move my arm across my gut so I could disengage the pelt. No luck. I’d given Grandpa an inch, and he’d taken five hundred miles.
“Miss Phillips, be still.” I couldn’t place the man’s voice even though it was familiar.
The air chilled until icicles brushed my shoulders. I didn’t dare turn my head or move. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end as Grandpa tried to force a shift right there in the library. Across from me, Blaine froze but not with the cold. His wide eyes and hoisted eyebrows meant whoever had me literally on ice was an unexpected visitor to the library. The chair beside me creaked slightly before he spoke again.
“There will be no further outbursts of this nature in my library. Are we clear, Mr. Harcourt?”
“Yes, sir.” Blaine folded his hands on the table in front of him, then pulled his arms back as he realized he’d put his elbows on it. Whoever had taken the seat next to me was important enough for Blaine to worry about old-money table manners.
Whatever lowered the temperature eased up enough for me to do more than shiver. I scratched my skin beside my navel when I pulled the pelt free, but that was a small price to pay. I clutched it in one hand, waiting until I could stop my hands from shaking before putting it away in its enchanted oilcloth pouch. That had been a close call. You could get expelled for shifting indoors.
“You will apologize to Miss Phillips and then leave with your minion, Mr. Harcourt.” The voice was formal but lacked the stern edge it carried earlier.
“Sorry, Nox.” The left corner of Blaine’s mouth tilted up, an unconscious signal of insincerity.
“You will do better than that.” The voice chilled down to absolute zero.
“I apologize, Miss Phillips. It won’t happen again.” Blaine collected his jacket and backpack, then backed away, bowing slightly at the waist. He glanced nervously at Olivia. “Um, let’s go to one of the dorm lounges, Olivia, okay?”
“Oh. Okay.” Olivia bolted up from her seat like she’d had seven shots of intravenous espresso. “Hoo boy,” she said over her shoulder. They left the library like a flight of arrows.
“Thank you, sir.” I turned in my seat, giving the distinguished-looking man next to me a little bow like Blaine had. I wasn’t sure who or what he was, but Blaine’s best behavior was a good template for formality with the elderly fellow.
“If only the young men on campus acted with half the decorum of the young women, you’d have no need to thank me.” His smile made his eyes twinkle like chips of obsidian embedded in terra-cotta clay. “I’m Taki Waban. Headmistress Thurston asked me to care for this library now that it’s been rebuilt.”
“Well, I think you’re doing a wonderful job so far, Mr. Waban.” I couldn’t find my smile. Something about the new librarian was profoundly unsettling even though he looked like a harmless little man of Indigenous heritage. He carried a weight of ages that didn’t match even his apparent fifty-something appearance.
“Do you, really? My talents lie less with tomes and more with confounding trouble though I suppose you could call me a bookworm.” Something between a chuckle and a rumble rattled in his throat as though he had bronchitis. “Miss Frampton insists quite adamantly that the stacks are organized like a—” He tilted his head. “How does she put it? Ah yes, like a nerf-herder stampede handled the shelving.” His lips tilted up in a trace of a smile.
“She doesn’t take well to change.” I felt most of the tension leave my no-longer-shivering shoulders. He had master-level control of his magic if he’d frozen my pelt’s water and cut it back that fast. But he seemed friendly enough to me.
“Unlike some of her cohorts.” He indicated me with a flat hand, palm up. “I’ll be blunt. Miss Phillips, your will is stronger than the iron that bans your kind, but even you need to sleep sometime.”
“I know, sir.” I glanced at the door, realizing there was no one to follow into the dorm. “It's just that, besides the Lounge, I haven’t got anywhere to go.” My eyes stung, whether from lack of sleep or because, once spoken, the fact finally had the power to wound me.
“I understand your predicament all too well.” He nodded. “That’s why I always carry some of these. I have some spares. Take them.” He held out his other hand, revealing a trio of what looked like lead crystal keys. They flickered blue even in the yellow incandescent light of the library. I recognized them immediately, even without the magic sight of my pelt.
“Church-keys? You really want to give that many of these away?” This kind of church-key didn’t open beer bottles. Instead, they turned the space behind ordinary doors into heavily warded panic rooms. I’d have to bring something to sleep on every time, but what Mr. Waban offered were three chances at absolute safety for as long as I needed. I wondered how he’d got so many. They could only be made from ice dragon tears.
“They aren’t mine to give.” He placed them on the table in front of me. “They’re yours, Miss Phillips. I’ve only been holding on to them for you.”
“I don’t know how to thank you.” I pressed the palms of my hands flat against the table, not even daring to hope this wasn’t some kind of weird joke.
“Use one of them today. I’ll consider that sufficient thanks.” The corners of his eyes crinkled again.
“But sir, what do I owe you? You’ve held onto them all this time.” My gaze dropped down to the glimmering keys on the table. My hope was tarnished around the edges with unexpected guilt.
“Nothing. That price was paid before you were born.” His voice lowered, whether from a desire for secrecy or sadness, I’d never know. I couldn’t bring myself to look back up at him, meet that jet gaze.
“Oh.” My exhausted mind couldn’t make sense of his statement, only the fact that I didn’t owe him anything. “Well, I’ll go and use one, then, like you said. Thanks again, Mr. Waban.” I stood, only realizing then that I hadn’t even bothered to put down the extra-large bag I’d been lugging around with me. I headed toward the narrow hall leading to the stairwell. Pocketing two of the keys, I pointed the third at the door to a broom closet.
It opened on a bare room, narrow but long and wide enough for me to lie down comfortably with my things. There was even space for me to take off my shoes and jacket. I set the alarm on my phone, surprised that it had three bars in here. I lay on my back, hands laced under my head. After that, I couldn’t do anything besides fall asleep.
Chapter Five
Josh
I was up to my elbows in homework on Wednesday night when Fred showed up with Maddie. They checked
over every corner of the room I’d been staying in, making sure there weren’t any spy devices like there’d been in the Nocturnal Lounge. Then, Fred pulled down the window shade and closed the curtains. Maddie called up her magic, gathering shadows around the both of us. I’d seen her do it before when she’d hidden herself and Nox outside Professor Brodsky’s apartment. Being in the shadows was way different. I wondered why Nox hadn’t mentioned how weird it was, seeing everything in muted purple hues. Then again, I’d tried to avoid her.
“Okay, Maddie. Follow me out. I’ll get the mail. You just go over to that place Olivia showed you earlier.” Fred opened the door and headed into the hall.
Maddie was too smart to answer. Clearly they’d already discussed the plan earlier. I was just along for the ride, so I went with it. That felt natural, unfortunately. How was I supposed to head up two powerful packs in the future if I kept letting myself get dragged along by Magi and Redcaps and bears, oh my?
Maddie walked fast for such a short girl. She beat feet like a champion power-walker, heading all the way down College Hill to North Main Street. On the corner outside RISD, we passed some hipsters. I would have loved to pop out at them, shock them out of their blasé broken-hip hangout poses. Too dangerous. Henry had already pranked the lumbersexuals and the shabby chics this way.
Maddie took a right and headed up the street. A few blocks later, Maddie stopped in front of a dojo. The sign up top was red with little pink flowers and the words Cherry Blossom School. A kanji I assumed to be a translation squatted beside the English lettering. Maddie stood at the door, waiting. I sighed, wishing for a fraction of the patience she seemed to possess. After what seemed like an hour but was probably more like sixty seconds, the door opened.
A stream of kids, mostly in the awkward ‘tween age-bracket, trotted out. Their pimply little faces wore smiles for the most part. I almost missed slipping through the door as I watched them hop into waiting cars or shuffle toward their expectant adult counterparts. I made it through thanks to a sharp gust of cold wind slowing the door’s trajectory. Once it closed behind us, Maddie relaxed, releasing her shadow magic.
“Less lollygagging on the way home, Josh,” Maddie ordered, tapping one small foot on the linoleum. “We wouldn’t have made it here on time for the class to let out otherwise. And we need to get you back to Fred’s in time for his mom to let the cat out.”
“Wait, an actual cat?” I scratched my head. “I haven’t seen one the entire time I’ve been there.”
“No, Tony.” She smiled. “He’ll be heading out after he swaps your homework.”
“Oh. Okay, then.” I looked around. Trophies lined the shelves in front of whitewashed wood-paneled walls. The wall behind the small reception counter held framed teaching credentials, some Extrahuman. The space was unfamiliar, but the trophies reminded me of something. I hadn’t been to this martial arts school before, but Beth’s dead beau had run one on the other side of town. I shivered for no good reason. “Where’s Nox?”
“I brought her over before I got you. She said to just head on in there.” Maddie waved her hand, sitting with her back to the wall between the practice space and waiting room, facing the street entrance. “I’ve got reading to do while you two spar. Have fun.” The coy little smile the Umbral magus gave me was the first sign that strange things were afoot at the Cherry Blossom School.
I stepped through the bisected black and white flag that served as a door. At a glance, it seemed empty. The faint shimmer in one corner told me otherwise. Even if I hadn’t seen that, the low, mossy scent of a pond during a thunderstorm gave her away. I headed straight for the corner with the shimmer, lunging at the approximate height of Nox’s waist.
I got an arm full of nothing and a face-full of wall when she swept my leg. Blood dripped from my nose, landing on a gray scarf I’d last seen draped around Nox’s neck. I sold more pain than her unexpected attack actually caused, trying to fake her out. Fail city. She caught me by the upper arm as I staggered away from her. I found myself looking at the drop-ceiling just a moment later.
I kipped up, ducking out of the way of the left hook she’d aimed at my already healed nose. Nox or one of her ancestors must have fought wolf shifters before. Going for the nose gave any opponent with glamour or cloaking an advantage since we relied on scent for accuracy. I kept my chin tucked, darting past her almost all the way back to the flag-draped door. She outpaced me. I should have expected a faerie horse shifter to be speedier than Gonzales.
I spun on my heel, aiming an uppercut at her chin. It connected, throwing her off balance. Her wobbly attempt at steadying herself gave me time to get behind her and grapple her under her arms. I thought I had her, but the wet, mossy scent intensified and her skin got all slippery. How she perspired that much in a chilly dojo was beyond me until I realized it was water magic. I tried to hold on, wrapping my hands in the damp fabric of her shirt.
We staggered halfway across the room together in what could have been some kind of post-modern interpretive dance-fight. I pushed against her back as hard as I could, trying to get her on the ground. Thoughts that had nothing at all to do with sparring flashed through my head, a completely inappropriate set of carnal images transmitted by my wolf. I banished them from my mind, but couldn’t do a damn thing about my body. It seemed to distract her, at least. Nox’s knees buckled, making me think I’d won. But then, the sound of tearing fabric told me I got served.
I ended up on my back again but didn’t dare kip up this time. My hands were in the indecipherable tangle of the tattered remains of Nox’s tank top. She had the whole mess pinned to the floor above my head. Her thigh was in an extremely inconvenient location, too. It felt like my face caught fire when I glanced down to see flashes of pale skin through the black lace of her bra. A chuckle halfway between a whicker and running water sounded in my left ear, and a low, velvety growl joined it. My wolf wasn’t nearly as embarrassed with this round’s outcome as I’d been.
“Someone likes a good match.” Nox let go of my hands, smiling down at me. She licked her lips then shook her head, sending drops of water out in a nimbus.
“More than one someone.” I brought my hands down, glad to have the torn shirt to deal with so I didn’t have to get up right away. Not that I had any illusions that Nox hadn’t noticed the state I was in.
“Wow. You borrowed that ego from Blaine?” Nox stood, turning her back to me as she headed over to a huge rucksack I hadn’t noticed by the scarf. She got out a white tank and pulled it over her head. Shouldn’t have bothered. It got soaked through in moments. The bra was even more distracting now.
“What?” I sat up, still failing miserably in my effort not to ogle her. “Ego?”
“You just go ahead and—” Nox let out a low grunt of effort. “Of course. You meant you and your wolf. And there I went, about to accuse you of assuming something.” She turned around again, her face relaxed except for one line between her eyebrows. “Sorry for the outburst, Josh. Not for wiping the floor with you. That was fun.”
“Fun?” I untangled my hands, then used them to spike up my hair. “That’s all I am to you?” I winked to cover for my inside voice getting out. Maybe she’d think it was a joke.
“Maybe.” She put her hands on her hips. “Want to go again?”
“No Glamour this time.” I could have asked instead of ordered, but dammit, I was her Alpha, even though our pack was strictly of the rinky-dink variety.
“Why not?” She raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips. They glistened like the rest of her. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find another woman attractive again after that. Nox Phillips was ruining me just by standing there, waiting for an answer.
“No one in the class I’m practicing for can do that.” I had to clear my throat, grateful my voice hadn’t actually cracked like a lame teenager.
“Hmm.” She put her hands together, lacing her fingers and cracking her knuckles. “Okay. We’ll do it your way this time.”
I just nodded
. Either Nox didn’t care that my family had to stay impartial, or she was using banter as a distraction. There was no way she didn’t know nothing should happen between us. A couple of months ago, I’d have just assumed she just wanted to jump my bones. After the whole business over Winter Break, I’d never think something like that about Nox Phillips. She was a fighter, not a lover. She shut down unwanted flirting more handily than she’d just trounced me.
We circled the middle of the room, facing each other, stances combat-ready. I watched her eyes like every fight coach worth his salt had told me. Nox did no such thing. She stared just above the space between my eyes. It was unfamiliar, unsettling too. She’d already bested me once that night. I shouldn’t let it happen again but had no idea what she was up to.
It felt like stalemate city the way we both held our ground. My patience ran out, the wolf inside making the biggest racket in the universe as it urged me to go ahead and grab her. I clenched my jaw, held my wolf by the throat, pushed it down. Raw ferocity would do nothing for me here even if my wolf had something on its mind besides fighting.
Nox leaped forward, full center. No faking one way or the other for her. Her arm came up at the last second, clunking me in the chin. If my jaw hadn’t been clenched, I might have bitten the tip of my tongue. The blow knocked me back, but not over. I noticed she’d lifted her chin, so I went for her throat with my hands. My wolf, riled up at being held down all that time, had other ideas.
I ran her to the wall, one hand on her neck and the other clamped on her shoulder. Nox gasped as my mouth met her throat, teeth grazing her flesh. Despite her flirtatious talk earlier, she reacted to it like a threat instead of a come-on. Definitely a fighter. I wasn’t entirely sure which I’d meant myself and she gave me no time to figure it out.
Nox used magic again, making me kick myself for not banning that, too. My mouth filled with water so cold it could have come off a glacier. I had to let go and spit it out or risk it going up my nose and cutting off my air. She managed to get her hands around my wrists, pushing against me as she tried to break my grasp. Then, the lights purpled and went out.