by A. K. Koonce
“The founding Prods and charitable donors hold very high respect at our Academy. And for whatever reason, you are held in their respect.”
My narrowed gaze holds on him until it all settles in together in my mind.
Mr. Von Hunter.
A small smile plays at my lips.
“So, Mr. Von Hunter has threatened you to ensure his son’s blood donor’s safety.”
“No, we would never bend the rules for one student. And we do not bow to threats, Miss Castillo.”
Really?
It seems that you do, Doctor Professor Headmaster Willms. He’s just trying to show me he’s the one in control, but I know Mr. Von Hunter has him by the balls.
“So I’m free to go then?” I challenge with an arch of my eyebrow.
I’m almost standing from my seat when he speaks flatly. “No.”
My wings slump just slightly.
Maybe I misread this situation.
“You will be closely monitored from here on out,” he says in that droning voice of his.
Monitored. That’s not so bad. I mean, it’s not like I’m not already being monitored anyway. The band around my ankle is magically glowing again.
“And Monday when class starts again we will begin your Rebuilding, Restructuring, Rejuvenating volunteer work.”
“Excuse me, what?” I tilt my head at him as if my left ear is better at hearing ridiculous phrases than my right.
I’ve never seen this man smile before, but the twitching way his lips are moving at the corner just might be sheer joy on his face.
“We’ve begun reconstruction of Building J. You’re an Elite this year but we are so appreciative of the volunteer time you’ll be donating this semester. The Rebuilding, Restructuring, Rejuvenating volunteers will be laying bricks by hand after class starting Monday.”
By hand.
What. The. Fuck.
“You’re dismissed, Miss Castillo. Do try to stay out of trouble.” He looks away from me and pretends to be engrossed in the messy papers littering his desk but for several seconds I just stare at him.
“I said, you are dismissed. Please do not make me reconsider my decision.”
My teeth grind together and I shove out of the chair and slam open the door with so much force that Miss Warren looks like she’s rethinking her earlier politeness to me. My feet won’t stop storming down the tile hall and my palm collides with the glass doors at the entrance only to be met with a different sort of solidness on the other side.
Hard muscle slips beneath my palms.
“Holy shit, Izara?” Syko’s rasping voice humming across my name is an emotion all on its own. I missed him for so long and now he’s right in front of me and it feels like a hole in my chest just opened up. My body reacts to just this voice alone. Something inside me completely shatters at the sight of him. My heart tells me this is real, that he’s really in front of me, but my mind screams something different.
Illusion. Illusion.
But Syko feels solid as I’m suddenly wrapped within his embrace.
He feels so fucking good.
He feels like heaven come to life just to wrap me up in the safety of this beautiful man’s arms.
“Are you okay?” he whispers against my hair.
I jolt at the words and flinch away from him. The memories are branded freshly into my mind. I thought they’d be gone when I came back, but I feel that same desperate hopelessness I did in those visions as I do now.
This is real, I tell myself. I have control of my Prod. She isn’t going to kill Syko.
I’m not going to kill Syko.
Then again, I’d told myself that in the sixth circle too, right before I blasted his body to bits.
“Izara?” His fingers cup my chin and tilt my face up. I don’t realize there are tears sliding down my cheeks until I taste the salt on my lips. I furiously blink them away. They taste like the haunting memories of his death and I can’t bear it. “Are you okay?” he repeats firmly.
Every single part of me is so exhausted with pain and tiredness but I can’t bring myself to say anything to him. Not when I know he’s hanging on my answer.
“I’m okay,” I say on a hollow breath.
He looks like he doesn’t believe me. He shouldn’t, because those words are a lie. Going through every circle brought its own kind of hell, even shameful happy bits. I think the worst part of it was seeing what I could do to them. I shouldn’t have anything to fear. It had been an illusion. Unreal. I have my Prod in check now.
So why am I trembling?
His hands never stop drifting down my arms, my shoulders, my back, and I know he’s checking for himself that every single part of me is fine like I said I am.
But it feels good too. It’s strange to find sudden lust in something as simple as a caress, a brush of a hand, the hardness of a body, the memory of a kiss.
My head tilts up and just as he’s about to ask something else, I press my lips to his and silence any more questions I don’t know how to answer.
A stunned second slips by before his mouth responds and his tongue slides slowly against mine.
Yes, I sigh into him. He’s real. This is real. And I’ll never hurt him or anyone else again.
“I missed you so fucking much, Izara,” he whispers before kissing me even deeper. His body melds against mine and he presses me back until my wings hit the wall near the door.
Every part of him aligns with every part of me and when his thigh shifts, and he parts my legs I waste no time rocking my center against him. Sharp teeth drag across my lips as he grinds his himself just right against my clit, big hands gripping my ass to eliminate any space that might linger between us.
When I whimper against his lips, the hardness of his cock brushes against my lower stomach.
“Please don’t consummate with her in broad daylight. That’s incredibly awkward, Syko,” a small, monotone voice says.
I pull back from him on a shaking breath just in time for his lashes to close with something that looks very much like embarrassment.
“Wasn’t going to fuck her,” he says flatly.
His palm lowers, and he adjusts the hard outline that’s all too visible beneath his khakis.
“Kayos is back,” he says to me with something similar to happiness lining his lips.
“Kayos?” I push him aside and she stands there on the steps, basking in the morning sunlight like a ghost haunting this school.
She doesn’t smile. She just studies me. She’s all running thoughts and quiet looks.
And that’s okay. Part of me understands that more than ever.
“Are you okay?” I ask her carefully.
Her head tilts at me. “I’m as okay as you are.”
I blink at that and it worries me more than I want Syko to know.
“She’s living here on campus but she’s doing good staying out of sight. Like you should be right now,” Syko warns her.
“I was on my way to hide when I spotted a nephilim grinding his junk against a demon.”
“Do not say shit like that. It’s disturbing.”
“So is seeing my brother’s erection.”
“Stop saying shit like that,” Syko growls as he lowers his big palm over his crotch.
Doesn’t exactly hide much but I guess he’s trying.
“Go hide. Now.” Syko eyes her as she slowly turns and walks down the brick sidewalk.
“Be careful, Izara,” Kayos says in a singsong way that sounds all too creepy to really be cute.
“You too,” I mutter.
But I think she’s right. I need to be very careful.
"What's the deal with Kayos?" I ask as we walk towards the new building that’s now our dorm. My heart flutters a bit nervously at the thought of finally having a bed. Even more so at the thought of seeing my men again.
Can I look into their faces and not remember the way they looked as the life left them? Can I look at them again without feeling guilty? Illusion or not, I still
killed them.
“What happened to her?”
His fingers are twined between the empty spaces of my own. He squeezes and I draw strength from the gesture.
“She said she was in confinement…” He pauses, inhaling heavily through his nose. The thought of his sister in there… it must pain him. I squeeze his hand back for comfort. “She said the day of our gym final, the day Dormitory J was destroyed, her ankle bracelet just stopped glowing and fell off. The doors to her confinement opened and she just... walked out. She’s been hiding ever since.”
“That’s... incredibly odd.” As odd as me being dragged to hell.
“She says she followed the shadows to you. Whatever the fuck that means.”
The words give me a bad feeling of premonition through my body but I shove it away. I don’t want to remember that moment when I lost control and took down a building.
“She followed the shadows to you,” he repeats like they might make sense a second time.
He side eyes me as if this should mean something to me when it doesn’t. Not really. If they can’t make sense of this, I really can’t either. And they were raised in the magical world. They should know this shit more than me.
We come to a stop before the doors of our new building. I hesitate and Syko notices. He pauses and runs a free hand through his snow colored hair.
Snow like the fifth dimension of hell.
My wings ache with remembrance and I have to tear my gaze from him for a split second.
“They’ll be happy to see you, Izara. We—” He breaks off, swallows. “It wasn’t the same without you. We all looked for you and didn’t stop. It got us thrown into confinement but when they released us today, we were right back to searching for you. We don’t blame you. We need you, Izara.”
Is that why he thinks I’m hesitating? Because I may fear they don’t feel the same? That they might be angry? His every disjointed thought said aloud brings a sad smile to my lips. If only he knew why I was so afraid of going in. Not because I fear that in the expanse of time I’ve been gone they’ve changed, but that I have.
It’s going to be hard looking them in the eyes and not seeing them drained of life. Or wondering if my powers have diminished into the insignificant power they were before I’d been in hell. If I lose that control, will my Prod kill them?
I take in a shuddering breath and reach in front of me to push open the dorm doors.
Snarls of Prods greet me and I flinch, flashing back to the demons in the seventh circle above the Messenger’s palace. I hadn’t been afraid then, but adrenaline is a funny thing. After it wears off, it leaves nothing behind but shaking, trembling limbs and memories.
Syko steadies me as I stumble back. I blink away the memories, shoving them so far down until I can see what’s clearly in front of me.
I’m greeted by the sight of hallways in much better condition than our old dorm had ever been. I almost feel like I’ve done everyone a favor by destroying it, honestly.
The elite building is clearly where some of Mr. Von Hunter’s donations are invested. The white tiles shine beneath my feet. The Prods here seem less likely to kill me in my sleep too, so that’s a bonus.
Syko leads me down the hall and up a flight of stairs. “We have the same roommates we did before; at least the males do,” he explains quietly as he tugs me along past two whispering water nixies, their eyes glued to me as they giggle to one another. “Females are on the opposite side of the dorm. You’ll bunk with Sasha and Heaven. We took your stuff to them so it was ready when you came back.”
My throat tightens up at that.
We hurry down to the last few rooms on the second floor that are across from one another. He opens the one on the right, pushing it open to reveal the people inside.
They’re sitting on the beds. Heaven and Sasha are pressed intimately together on the top bunk, the vampire trailing lazy circles around the faerie’s arm. Malek, Phoenix, and Saint are huddled together on a bottom bunk, voices whispering. They’re so focused on their conversation, they don’t notice us step into the room, Syko closing the door behind us.
I take in the sight of them for a brief moment, the impact of seeing them again pressing against my chest in a happy sort of pain.
And then Malek growls as he grips Phoenix by the lapels of that shitty Academy uniform, picks him up, and slams him against the wall.
Saint shoots to his feet, his familiar blue eyes glowing with excited malice. He puts his hand on Malek’s shoulder but the wolf shakes him off with irritation.
“I’ll go after her myself!”
The bright green of Phoenix’s eyes are consumed by the black. He grips the wolf’s wrist with such a force that his knuckles go white, but Malek doesn’t even flinch. “Fuck you, Spike,” he growls darkly. “I am going to hell to find her. You’ll just slow me down by stopping to piss on every fucking tree we pass.”
Malek’s fingers curve into vicious looking talons that reach for Phoenix’s face.
I’m surprised with how much I missed this part of our relationship.
And I’ve seen enough.
My wings flap at my back and I jump towards them, my fingers ripping from Syko’s hold. I throw myself between them, tucking my wings tightly to my back. I don’t let that heartbreak press on me as I slap my palms against Phoenix and Malek’s chests and shove them away from one another.
“Stop it,” I order, but the sound comes out breathlessly. I feel suddenly weak, like my powers have depleted by the simple act of flying.
I keep it together long enough to see the stunned expressions on their faces and I smirk.
“Miss me?”
Twelve
Malek
The pounding of my heart is all I hear as Saint and Phoenix crowd her, pushing their hands through her hair and brushing their lips over every viable inch of her skin. Like they need the time to memorize the feel of her body all over again. Like they’d somehow forgotten the taste and texture of her all those weeks she’s been gone.
I could have never forgotten her in a million years. Not her body, not the taste of her lips or the feel of her tongue against mine. The sounds of her sighs are imprinted on my very soul, and her essence is a part of me.
I could never forget her, even if I tried.
And still, the mere shock of seeing her has my mind struggling to remember every inch of her body I stored away in my memories. But now she’s in front of me, and I can’t seem to connect the dots. She’s here. She’s really fucking here.
Ash, sweat, and sinfully tight leather coat her her skin like a shield and I can’t help but wonder if she’s hurting as much as my heart tells me she is. It’s in the shadows beneath her eyes, the subtle way she flinches as she’s pulled into tight hugs, is asked a thousand questions, and tries to mask it behind a forced smile.
They’re suffocating her. And she’ll let them because she loves them.
“Give her a fucking break,” I push past them both until I’m standing in front of her. We stare at each other, my gaze caressing every part of her to make sure the dry blood near her neck isn’t a wound that needs more attention than she’ll admit.
I won’t have much time with her. It won’t be like it was before. She’ll be in the women’s wing and I’ll be in the men’s. Thinking about her non stop. Worrying about her non stop.
My hands go to her shoulders and stickiness meets my palms. I sniff, inhaling the scent of her. She smells like ash and sweat, and the strange remnants of something.
“Let’s go take a shower,” I finally say when what I really want to do is pull her into my arms and hold her until the pain in my chest eases. But this isn’t about my pain. It’s about hers. It’s about that haunting look in her eyes that wasn’t there last month. What exactly did she go through in hell? Whatever it was, it can’t have been good.
I’ll put my own needs aside for her.
“A shower sounds great!” Saint chimes in like an old clock that should have been thrown out ye
ars ago.
“Not you,” I snap before he starts stripping down right here and now. The vampire has no concept of personal space or privacy.
Izzy bites back a small smile and her pretty whiskey-colored eyes shift to the vampire lingering at my side.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” she whispers to him.
Thank the moon.
I know they’re disappointed, that they wish they could have more time with her right here, right now. I know they have a thousand questions and the same burning urge I have to to hold her, kiss her, make love to her like she deserves and only then ask the important questions afterwards.
She just needs time.
Her hand slips into mine like she might lead me down to the shower room at the end of the hall but the feel of her palm against mine isn’t enough. I bend quickly and when my palms wrap around her thighs, a stifled yelp slips past her lips just before she’s pressed right up against me, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat.
And then I carry her away like my goddess that she is.
I push the shower room door open with my back and we slip inside. It’s empty but steam hovers in the air around us. I lower her down slowly and I love the way her lashes flutter as her core presses just right against the hardness beneath my khakis.
She’s so small. How the fuck did I let her go?
That’ll never happen again.
I’ve held back because I didn’t want to scare her but not anymore.
If she’s scared, good. Because I’m fucking terrified.
“Take your clothes off,” I tell her on a steady tone that echoes along the crisp white tiles.
She removes the boots first, slowly, methodically, and when she comes back up to peel the leather from her body, I see the way her fingers shake. And then I’m on her. My fingers slide effortlessly down the slick material, pulling it over her arms and down her lithe length, unveiling her smooth skin beneath like a gift I don’t deserve. The leather cascades down her body effortlessly and only a thin, sheer layer of panties separate me from the perfect feel of her body against mine.
I force myself to step back from her and she turns to watch me as my fingers drift from button to button down my white shirt. When only my unbuttoned pants cling to my skin, I feel the heat of her gaze clothing me more than ever. My thumbs hook into the waist of my khakis and underwear and she follows their path as they slide down my thighs and pool at my feet.