by Eva Chase
“Shut up,” Jude said pre-emptively. He didn’t look at me, but he didn’t slur either, which suggested he was sober enough that I could lay into him instead of saving him from his stupid-ass self.
I ambled over to lean on the back of the couch at the opposite end from him. “Shut up about what, exactly? The fact that she hit and split on you?”
He glared at me then, with enough ire that I could tell I’d hit decently close to the mark. I didn’t know exactly how far he’d gotten with our Bloodstone scion or what had led to him needing to call up Connar for a ride home a few days back, but from the little Connar had gathered and the way Jude had been skulking around since then it wasn’t hard to figure out that something had gone sour between him and her.
“Self-righteous feeb-loving fucking bitch,” he muttered, and downed the rest of his glass. He jabbed a finger at me with enough of a wobble to betray that he’d definitely had at least one other drink before that one. “Which doesn’t change the fact that you’re a fucking asshole.”
“I don’t remember claiming otherwise,” I said. “Takes one to know one, doesn’t it? What did you do that ticked her off?”
“It wasn’t— I was only—” He smacked his glass down on the side table and got up. “I’m not discussing it with you.”
He strode out of the room, brushing past Connar, who’d just come down, without a word. The Stormhurst scion glanced after him and then at me.
“He’s still in a mood, huh?”
“As only Jude knows how to be.” I went over to the bar cabinet to pour a drink of my own. “I don’t know what he was thinking going after her in the first place. Anyone could have told him that wasn’t going to end well.”
And yet somehow without even being here, Rory’s presence had wormed into this room and drawn fault lines through the bonds we’d spent over a decade forming. My fingers tightened around my glass.
Jude would get over it. He’d have to get over it. All the shit he’d said the other day—he couldn’t really dismiss everything we’d survived together like that. She’d gotten into his head somehow, or he’d been peeved about something else. We’d still be here when he finished tending to his wounded ego. We’d all had plenty of practice at forgetting the things he said when he let his tongue right off its leash.
Connar’s mouth had flattened into a pained line.
“He’ll come around,” I said to reassure him. “Faster if we can finally knock her off that goddamned high horse.” Bring the Bloodstone scion to heel, solidify the pentacle of scions, prove to my father that some prissy joymancer-raised novice couldn’t get the better of me—it shouldn’t have taken this long. She was cracking, but she still wouldn’t break.
My back prickled with the memory of the disappointment that had loomed large in my father’s voice the last time we’d spoken on the phone—and with the scars etched in my skin from his past judgments and lessons. I was not going to let Rory make me look like a fool. “You’ve still been throwing her off in class like we’ve talked about, right?”
“When I can work it in without being noticed.” Connar folded his arms over his chest, his gaze dropping to the floor. “It’s harder to make sure she can’t tell there’s outside interference as she gets better—and if the professor catches me, I’ll get in shit too.”
I knuckled his arm. “Live a little. Take a few risks. You can run circles around her. Maybe we can find another way for you to shake her up too. Sudden limb transformation. Shift the ground right under her. She can block off her mind, but she hasn’t got full-body armor.”
“That doesn’t sound so subtle to me.”
“Maybe we went too far in the opposite direction. Let’s just get this thing done.” I clapped my hands together, trying to shake off the jittery edge of the tension that had wound through me. This had gone on too long, this stupid feud, and not just for me. It had fractured the four of us too much. What was the point in being scions if we couldn’t hold each other strong? “She has to be willing to stand up for us before we can stand up for her. That’s the only way this can work.”
Connar hesitated. “I’m not—” he started with a grim expression.
I waved off his worries before he had to say them. “Don’t you think for one second you can’t keep up with her. We’ll all push together, and she’ll topple. Let me think on it, and in the next couple days, we’ll have a solid plan. In the meantime, just keep picking at her any opportunity you see. I know I can count on you for that.”
“Of course,” Connar said. “Whatever you need.”
He left, which seemed a little odd considering he’d only just come down, but maybe he’d simply been looking for reassurance that we were on the right track. I wandered restlessly through the lounge as I finished my drink, but the emptiness of the space and everything I had left to accomplish ate at me.
It was just about time to let Shadow out of the kennel. I might as well head over there now.
Nothing looked particularly out of the ordinary on the way out to the little wooden building at the edge of the east field. I stepped inside, my mind already skipping ahead to watching my familiar bound joyfully into the woods, and froze at the sound of a human voice.
I was the only one with a large enough familiar to require the use of the kennel this year. No one else should have been in here.
“Oooh, you think you’re fierce, do you?” the voice said in a teasing tone, with a scuffing of feet against the floor and a rasp that I knew was my wolf’s claws. He let out a low growl, but not his threatening one—the eager one that egged you on.
That wasn’t the problem. The problem was I knew the voice who’d spoken to him.
I marched over to the kennel stall and yanked the door open.
The heir of Bloodstone was standing in the middle of the large concrete space, her back to me, her hands clamped around a short length of knotted rope with which she was in the middle of a tug-of-war with Shadow. Her head jerked around at the squeak of the hinges with a tumble of her dark brown waves. Shadow dropped his end of the rope and bowed down with glinting eyes in a wolfish request that I join their play.
My gaze shot back to Rory. “What the fuck are you doing with my familiar?” I snapped, every muscle in my body tensed.
Rory turned to face me, the rope toy—which I’d never seen before; she must have brought it with her—still dangling from her hand. Her stance had stiffened, but she raised one shoulder in a careless shrug. “What does it look like? He was bored. I figured I’d keep him a company when I had a moment.”
The lift of her chin and the intentness of her deep blue eyes dared me to complain. I had outright kidnapped her familiar not that long ago, a fact I doubted she’d ever forget. If I freaked out over her entertaining mine, I’d only look like a hypocritical idiot. I reined in my emotions.
All of my emotions. Alongside the instinctive alarm, part of me couldn’t help appreciating the fire and steel that radiated from her stance. Every ounce of my training, both formal and informal, had prepared me to welcome an associate like this: fierce but controlled, quick-tongued and quick-witted, strong down to the core. How could she be everything a scion was supposed to be and yet still hate the rest of our guts?
She should be with us, not against us. I felt it down to my bones.
She should be with me.
I shoved aside that thought as quickly as it rose up and snapped my fingers by my side. Shadow came trotting over with the same wolfish grin as if to say this was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and wasn’t I just as pleased as he was?
I gave him a tight smile and scratched between his ears. Didn’t he remember pouncing on this girl a couple months ago?
“Shadow,” I said, pointing at Rory, “we need to remind her who’s in charge here. Take her down.”
Rory’s posture went even more rigid, but she held her ground. Shadow took a step toward her, but instead of lunging like he should have and knocking her over, he glanced back at me with an uncertain expression, as
king if I was really sure about this.
For Christ’s sake, how long had she been making friendly with him that he’d ignore a direct command?
Or maybe he could read my own mixed feelings about this girl. The familiar connection ran deep.
“It’s all right, Shadow,” Rory said in a gently cajoling tone that brought my hackles up even as it tingled over my skin. My wolf’s ears swiveled right back to her, and his head came up as he watched her avidly. “You need to push me around to make him happy? Go ahead. I’ll be fine.” She held up her hands in offering.
Just when I’d thought this situation couldn’t make me look any less effectual. Thank all that was holy we didn’t have any witnesses.
“Never mind,” I muttered. I could make my familiar follow the order, but it’d disturb him more than seemed worth it. I wanted to set her off balance, not torture him, and she wasn’t the slightest bit afraid. Pushing the stall door wider, I stepped back to make room for Shadow to trot past. “Ready for freedom?”
My wolf didn’t need any more encouragement than that to wheel around and lope out of the stall. The kennel door still stood ajar. He slipped out in a blur of dark fur.
“Why do you keep him shut up in here at all?” Rory tossed the rope toy to the side of the stall where his sleep blanket was. “It doesn’t seem right for a wolf.”
“I know it doesn’t,” I said tersely. “The staff are concerned about him roaming around during main school hours when the students are walking to and from classes. If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with Ms. Grimsworth, although even I couldn’t persuade her, so good luck.”
Rory had the decency to look a bit startled. “Oh. I didn’t realize.”
“I’d leave him at home where he can run free as much as he wants, but he’d be miserable that far apart from me,” I added. I wouldn’t feel that great about it either. The familiar bond started to gnaw at you if you were separated from your animal by a lot of distance for very long. “Whatever you’ve been doing here, you can stop it now.” I motioned for her to get out too. “You made your point. I haven’t even looked at your familiar in weeks. Leave mine alone.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I think he’d rather I came back. What are you so worried will happen if I keep coming by?”
“I’m not worried. I just don’t want you near him.” Near the one living being in the world that had a direct line to my mind, although I wasn’t going to emphasize that point for her. On the off-chance that she hadn’t already considered that factor, I didn’t want to put the idea in her head. “You know it’s never fun for you when I have to make you do what I say.”
She just gazed back at me with the calm defiance that rankled me all over again even as—damn it—it turned me on. “I don’t think it’s ended up being much fun for you either.”
My jaw clenched. “If you really want me to show you I have what it takes to smash your defenses—”
She held up her hands again and walked past me, having to step close enough on her way into the outer hall that a whiff of a scent sweet as toffee reached my nose. The thought of Jude with his hands on her, with his mouth on her, and God knew what else sent a sudden flare of fury through me. Then Rory turned to meet my gaze, and there was something so unexpectedly vulnerable in her expression that my jealousy deflated.
“Do we really have to keep doing this?” she said. “The sniping at each other and the trying to get the upper hand? I don’t like you, and you don’t like me—so what? Can’t we leave it alone and just ignore each other until we’re done here?”
I don’t like you, and you don’t like me. The certainty with which she said that came with a jab to my gut. She had no fucking idea. As if I could ever ignore her.
“And then what?” I said. “You’re stuck with me, Glinda. We’re meant to work together until we retire decades and decades from now. Better we sort out our differences now.”
“Is that what this is?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Let’s just assume we’ll tolerate each other’s presences when we have to, then. It’s probably going to be easier if we haven’t been fighting the whole time before.”
“You’ve got to know there’s no chance of that. If I go easy on you now, then you win. I’m not going to look like a weakling so that you can have a little peace and quiet.”
“But it’s okay for me to look weak, if I finally give in and do what you want?”
I exhaled roughly. “What do you think? You have excuses. People hardly know you. You’ll have tons of time to recover the respect you need. Hell, we’ll help you get it back.” But I—I had so much more to lose and so much farther to fall. Our peers here might never look at me the same way again. My father might never gain the confidence in me that I’d sweat and bled to gain.
She was smart—didn’t she get how this worked?
For a few seconds, she just studied me. Was she really considering giving up just to put an end to the conflict between us?
I had the urge to offer her something to smooth the way, but what the hell did I have? Maybe there’d been a time when I could have turned the tension between us around the way Jude had, insomuch as he had before he’d fucked that up, but I knew without trying that I’d gone too far to have a chance now. The girl in front of me was never going to believe a friendly gesture from me until we’d beaten her down enough that she was begging for it.
The thought shouldn’t have twisted my stomach the way it did. I couldn’t even tell her I wished it was over too.
The moment dragged too long. I squared my shoulders, drawing another biting comment onto my tongue—and Rory ended the moment.
“Then it’s going to be how it’s going to be,” she said, and walked away without waiting to hear how I’d have responded.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rory
My nerves twitched as I walked out to the garage, even though there was nothing to worry about. The discomfort was partly because of all my memories of meeting Jude there, now clouded by all the reasons I had to regret allowing those moments to happen, but it was also because I wasn’t sure whether the guy I’d invited today would turn up. I couldn’t tell which made me more nervous: the possibility that he’d be there or the possibility that he wouldn’t.
When I came around the aisle to my parking spot and saw Declan waiting in the dim light, my heart leapt with an exhilaration that was only partly anxiety. Plenty of relief was mixed in there as well, along with other feelings it was safer not to look at too closely.
He swept a few stray strands of his black hair back from his face, his stance wary as he watched me approach. His gaze flicked from side to side to confirm no one else was around. It’d be hard to excuse this get-together as a tutoring session.
“What’s this about, Rory?” he said when I reached him.
“I’ll explain in a second. Hold on.”
I scooted past him, more aware than I liked of the warmth of his slim body, and stood by the nearest window. “Hold the image,” I murmured, willing some of my magic into the glass to fix the view of the empty passenger seat, ignoring the driver’s seat where I’d be sitting. The spell came easily enough after the practice I’d had obscuring Deborah’s hiding spots. I moved around the car, repeating the spell on all the windows, freezing for a second at the sound of an engine above.
Declan ducked down between my car and the neighboring one as a BMW cruised by. I finished my casting. When the other car had pulled out of the garage, he straightened up again, his mouth twisting.
Before he could argue, I motioned to the passenger door. “Get in. Let me make sure the illusion worked.”
“Rory…”
“I promise I have a good reason. Go on.”
He gave me a bemused look, but he climbed in. When he closed the door, he might as well have vanished from existence. I circled the car again, but the seat looked perfectly vacant from every angle. With a rush of relief, I got in on the driver’s side.
“No o
ne will see you’re in here,” I said. “If you want, on the way back I can drop you off in town and you can walk the rest of the way to campus, so there’s even less chance of anyone realizing we went off together.”
“On the way back from where? What’s this all about?”
I looked at him, sitting where Jude so often had but with such a different presence—reserved and thoughtful and far more serious. His bright hazel eyes held mine with a glimmer of the longing I’d so often watched him squash. So many responsibilities and emotions he was juggling, and my presence in his life had made his so much more difficult.
“You’ve helped me so much, the last couple months,” I said. “I didn’t even realize how much until the other day… I didn’t even think about the pressure you must be getting from the barons on top of everything else.” My brief encounter with Malcolm’s dad, Baron Nightwood, had made it clear that they didn’t approve of my attitudes any more than the younger generation did.
“I want to take a trip out to one of my family properties that’s near here,” I went on. “I’d rather not drive alone. And I figured you might appreciate taking a break somewhere without having to worry about who might be watching or judging you. I’ve made sure the maintenance staff won’t come by today. There won’t be anyone else around. I’ll do my thing, and you can just… chill out. Or you can say no and get out of the car. I’m not going to kidnap you.”
Declan gave a laugh that sounded a little startled at that last remark. Maybe because the last time we’d taken a car trip of sorts together, the blacksuits he’d been with had technically kidnapped me. He ran his hand through his hair again, his gaze sliding to the windshield as he considered.
“It’ll definitely be just us?” he said.
“The place is incredibly secluded. No neighbors around to see who goes in, and no one’s going to get inside unless I let them.”
He sank a little deeper into his seat. “All right. Maybe I could use a break. It doesn’t sound like it’ll hurt anything, anyway. And you’re getting to practice your Illusion skills.” He smiled wryly, but his expression softened when he looked at me again. “Thank you.”