Blooming Black: Rosewood Academy of Witches and Mages (Darkly Sweet Book 4)

by Juliann Whicker

  He groaned from beneath the pillow over his head, his clothing and boots still on and revoltingly coated in Darksider filth.

  I whistled out of tune while I patted Pitch’s cheek in Zach’s poster beside her black moustache, opening up Zach’s secret tech world. I ran my fingers over the tools feeling their intent, their purpose. It didn’t take me long to find a long wand of metal with a particularly strong energy kick. This would do something interesting.

  Zach sat up and fingered the materials I’d brought with me. “What is this? You basted the witch hair to the fabric with thread? And you’ve patched the fabric all together in layers, overlapping like scales, really messy scales. That is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen you in a rabbit suit.”

  I glared at him. He didn’t have to bring up my less than rational reaction to Drake’s interference with my last attempted contract. I yanked the material out of his hands and caught the wafting aroma of a mage who had drunk way too much swill.

  “I’m making Drake a mage jacket. It’s going to blow him away. Not literally. His enemies, yes. I’m not sure about the details. I haven’t seen Drake really fight for real, just his pretty choreography. I should talk to Ian.” I hit the wand on the edge of the metal counter. Zach swore while I fiddled with it until it came to life, blue light flaring around the metal rod on the end of the tool.

  “You’ve already talked to Ian enough. What are you going to do with that, other than blow up the school?”

  “I’m going to fuse the layers together, obviously.”

  “That’s not what that rod is for, so no, not obviously.”

  “That’s not what it was for. Watch and learn, mage.”

  I wouldn’t have really blown up the school, even if Zach hadn’t vaulted over the counter and surrounded the energy wand with a forcefield before it went all supernova. I closed my eyes and pulled that energy into the mage suit, not the explosion, but the energy, different things, twining it into the fabric while Zach sweated, his hands holding back the all-consuming flame.

  I beamed at him then shook out the fabric. It rippled beautifully. That energy would be better than spells. Too bad about the tool. It wouldn’t ever work right again. When Zach finally got the supernova under control, it sparked blue and flickered out. Zach shot me a glare then bent down to pull out an enormous toolkit that strained the muscles in his shoulders. I blinked because I was not noticing anything about Zach. I hated him. Mostly. It must be Pitch. Why would she notice a mage’s shoulders? Must be thinking how to dislocate them. Yes. That made sense.

  He shoved open the lid and pulled out a set of small electrical screwdrivers. “Penny, you are seriously trying to blow us up. Did your date last night go that bad?”

  “I was just getting you out of bed and sober. I have instincts about that kind of thing.” I leaned over his shoulders to watch him disassemble the tool. “You can’t fix it. I took its energy.”

  “I’ll swap out the core and it’ll be fine.” He shot me a hard glare, blues bright and sizzling like the tool had before supernova. “You owe me a million dollars for that.”

  I smiled brightly. “Send the bill to Huntsman inc. This is his mage coat. How many cores do you have?”

  His eyes narrowed. “You can’t charge a piece of fabric.”

  “Of course not, but interlaid with metal wiring and hair steeped in magic to equalize the charge, I definitely can. I actually probably could anyway. I’m extremely good with energy.”

  His lips curled before he shook his head and bent over the tool, hands strong and capable as he worked. I watched him for a long time, watched him bend down to retrieve another core, held in a box layered in lead and rubber.

  “That’s a beautiful box.”

  He glanced at me and nodded. “It works.”

  “Maybe I should make a box for the jacket. That would keep the charge from bleeding out when the mage wasn’t wearing it to continue the circuit.”

  He shrugged. “You should spell it. Oh, I almost forgot, for all your skill with energy, you can’t cast the simplest spell.” He smirked at me.

  I sneered back at him. “I can still beat you up, mage. What does that say about you? Weaker than a magickless witch? Hm?”

  He laughed and I froze because that sound sent a circuit through me I hadn’t felt for a long time. Poppy. I grabbed his wrist before I thought about it. I gripped him with energy more than skin, burying deeper and deeper into that bond until I could swallow all the pain, all the aching misery drop by drop.

  He put his hand on my hip finishing the circuit, through me and him, the lines drawn that went on and on and on pulling us closer together until I felt his energy like a glowing sun beside me, steady, dangerous but safe at the same time.

  He pulled away first, muttering while he went into the back of his tech shop.

  I gripped the edge of the counter and stared at my mage fabric. “Do you think that Ian would have any experienced weapons?”

  “Ian? You should stay away from him and his experienced weapons.”

  I sighed. “How can I stay away from him? I own him. I mean like a sword that’s been handed down for generations steeped in death.”

  “Death?” He turned towards me, his expression leery, but he wasn’t quite as angry as he’d been before.

  “People have energy. When they die, some of that energy bleeds into the weapon used to take the life. It would be best if it was Drake’s, but it might be a weird request.”

  “I’ll ask Jasper for you. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve borrowed one of their ancient weapons. You aren’t going to destroy it, are you? Of course you are.” He glowered at me. “Let’s make it the most rare and priceless weapon they have.”

  “Rare and priceless don’t matter, it’s how many people it’s killed. Not massive death either, individual deaths.”

  He sighed and pushed my shoulder, knocking me sideways. “I hate that.”

  I stared at him. “You prefer massive deaths?”

  He studied me then went back to work on the tool I’d roasted. “You’re insane. You’re working on instinct with power that has taken millennia for mages to harness. And the thing is, it’s fun to watch you almost blow yourself up. It’s genuinely amusing. If Drake ever gives you a contract, make sure you have that in there, your right to develop whatever random thing your heart desires with whoever…” He frowned at his work while I took a deep breath and started stabbing the coat with a small glowy wand to stabilize the charge, over and over until our time was up.

  “See you in linguistics, Zach. No matter what you do with Marilynn, I’m not going to beat myself up over it. You should only flirt with her if you like it. Life’s too short.”

  He looked up, his expression hard. “Sometimes. Sometimes it’s not.”

  I went to his door and stopped, staring at the wood for a long time. “So, you’re probably still angry, I know you’re still angry, and maybe that’s just the new you, but if you could put the mad mage to bed for a few hours, I’m going to work on some hurters tonight and could use an assistant.”

  He didn’t answer for a long time.

  “Never mind.”

  I left the room, but before I could slam the door, I heard him laugh, a crazy wild sound that reminded me of Poppy.

  Classes were fine. Everything was fine bordering on way too good to be true. Drake had given me a contract. I’d save my mother and get to kiss Drake every day seven a.m. and p.m. That was one of the contract conditions. There was also a section on mustaches. And Jello. Drake had a lot of weird obsessions. Maybe that’s what I was, one of his strange fancies. It didn’t matter, not if the contract was on the level. It seemed to be real.

  Everything went by in an amazing swirl of people I beamed at and gave lollipops to. Drake’s eyes positively glowed when he looked at me in ballet class, his hand lingering on mine and then afterwards, him outside of the locker room, waiting to walk with me to my next class. He didn’t mention the contract, but he didn
’t demand it back, either. He’d waited until I’d completely given up to give me what I needed. That probably was a terrible personality trait for him to have, but I didn’t care. It was hard to care when my fingers were tingling and then at dinner that night, sitting beside him while we ate the most beautiful food in the world, and then afterwards, at the stroke of seven, he raised my hand and kissed it, slow, sweet, his eyes soft and sweet, so soft and sweet, I nearly melted into a puddle on the floor.

  “She’s going to destroy your most valuable family heirloom tomorrow,” Zach said in a conversational tone. “Tonight we’re going to hang out in your room. Without you.”

  Drake dropped my hand and turned to give Zach a mild smile. “How exciting. Do I get to watch the destruction of my property?”

  “No. It’s part of our class. No visitors.”

  I chewed on my bottom lip while my stomach twisted. I couldn’t get into the whole Pitch/Pitch’s hurter maker thing with Drake until we were safely married. I couldn’t live with him with all my hurter stuff out on the coffee table. It would be a fun surprise for after we were married. Married, to Drake Huntsman? It couldn’t be real.

  I took a deep breath. “I’m moving back into Lilac Stories.”

  Zach and Drake both looked at me. Zach’s expression went petulant, but he didn’t say anything. Drake cocked his head as he studied me. His eyes went hard, but his lips twisted in a smile. “I agree. To be honest, seducing you while you were sleeping in my bed wasn’t nearly challenging enough. This will be much more interesting.” He caressed my cheek and trailed his fingers over my jaw down my throat.

  I breathed shallowly, incapable of resisting in any way.

  He smirked. “Try not to singe any curls. They’re far more valuable to me than any number of priceless antiquities.” He tugged on my hair for a moment, his long pale fingers precise and strong.

  “Okay.” What would he look like taking apart a tool? We should put that in the contract.

  I inhaled shuddering as I stared at Drake’s back when he walked away. His shoulders filled out his suit beautifully, or maybe it was the suit. No, definitely the shoulders.

  When I got to my room, Zach was already there, organizing vials and prepping my Bunsen burner.

  “Come on in. Make yourself right at home.”

  He glanced at me. “You’re having Signore look over the contract? You should have Ian’s contract mage as well. I’d suggest me, but you shouldn’t trust me since I own you.”

  I stiffened up. I hadn’t told him about the contract, partly because it seemed like a dream, and partly it shouldn’t be any of his business. What if he wouldn’t let me marry Drake? “I shouldn’t trust you for a lot of reasons, but that’s never stopped me. I am such an idiot. You put the elasticated resin too close to the heat. It’s going to get brittle.”

  We worked for two hours before I got up the nerve to ask him. “Zach, are you going to try and stop my contract with Drake?”

  He glanced at me with bright blue eyes. “If it were only you it would infuriate, of course I would, but Drake’s a business mage. No one meddles in his contracts and comes out breathing. As long as you put a clause stipulating your ability to work with other mages, I’ll allow it.

  I wrinkled my nose at him. “Such a nice master.”

  He smiled back, not at all a nice smile, but his work was impeccable.

  The next morning I sat on the Northeast side of Rosewood, the delivery ramp cold under my skirt, packages balanced on my knees. I had a lot of questions that I wasn’t sure how to ask. If Signore had tried to poison me and let me blame Poppy, I would have to hurt him. I wasn’t as angry about it as I expected.

  Finally, the brown truck rumbled towards me, no smoke trailing behind it like it had at home. I straightened up and took deep breaths. He finally parked and took his time, staying inside the truck for ages until he got out, coming towards me with a crooked smile on his warped face, brow bone protruding over beady black eyes.

  “Caramia, are you paralyzed? If you move will you explode?”

  I smiled back at him. I couldn’t help it. “I skinned a mage who said that you poisoned me.”

  He stopped walking, staring at me more intently. Was he always nervous bordering on paranoid? Not when he kicked back with a glass of whiskey and told me a story. “I saw the tourney. Who is the mage you dragged off the field?”

  I was the one who had questions. “It’s true? You poisoned me? Why? Why did you let me blame Poppy? I would have gotten over it.”

  He started walking again, his pace slow, ponderous like his expression. “You heard that I’m an assassin. I was hired to kill you.”

  The way he moved was different than usual, smooth and sleek, like a shadow of a shadow. He wasn’t trying to take up space and time the way an ordinary human would. “I get that, but when you decided not to kill me, why did you lie about it? And why did you poison me like that, so slow and horrible after I’d known you for so long? That wasn’t very nice, particularly when I still tried to take your pain, however sick I got.”

  He flinched. I’d never seen him flinch from anything, but those words as soft as I’d spoken them pierced him like a dagger. “Cara mia, when I first met you, I decided that I didn’t need to kill you. You weren’t a threat, not hidden away in Dayside with your mother. It was after your first tourney that I had my doubts.”

  Let’s see, I had been poisoned a month after my first tourney, when I was eleven. Such an intense year. I’d known Signore since I was seven or so. “What is it about me that’s worth killing? Is it that I have no magic? That I have Pitch? That I make extremely awesome hurters?”

  He studied me for a long time before he sighed and sat down next to me on the cement dock. “Your mother was an assassin in Darkside before you were born. She made some enemies.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “No, but you are tied to your family. We all are.”

  I patted his shoulder, his massive, crooked shoulder. I could feel his weariness, the weight of that lie strangely heavy on him. He wasn’t supposed to have a conscience, but fair was fair, and I had taken his pain. We had an inferred alliance and poisoning me hadn’t been part of it. “All right. You’re going to have to pay for that in pain.” I beamed at him and patted his cheek a little harder than necessary. It made an excellent slapping sound and made my palm sting. “I’m going to have a tea party and you are going to come dressed up. What color do you hate most?” I tugged on the lapels of his jacket, swinging like a five-year-old. He hated that.

  “Red.” He didn’t pull my hands down and move away from me, he just let me swing on him. Black buzzed in my periphery. He’d made me hurt Poppy. I did enough of that on my own.

  “But aren’t you the Ruby? That’s unfortunate. Very well, red. Red and pink. I’d have you bring some appetizers, but who asks a poisoner to do that?” I put my hands on his hair, smoothing over the contours of his knobby head. “It’s like a cliff face. I used to imagine being tiny and finding toe holds in your skull. Not as bad as it used to be. When we first met, did you decide not to kill me because I took your pain?” I drew it into me, the pain loose and burning. He’d held onto this pain for a long time. The lie. The harm he’d caused me, the pain was deeper for him than for me. I put my head on his shoulder when I went limp. I’d taken too much, too fast, but I was angry. So, so angry, and that made me lose control.

  “Cara Mia, when you took my madness. Your life is worth much more to me than your death.”

  “And Poppy? She knew that you did it, but I trusted you instead of her. I should be killed for that.” I straightened up and turned my head to stare into his eyes. “Signore, I want very much to rip you apart, but I have a mage contract that I need you to examine. It’s very long and very strange.”

  “Of course, if you wrote it.” He smiled slightly. I resented that smile. It was a game smile, a play, pretend smile that didn’t mean anything.

  I shook my head. “No. Drake Huntsman offered me a marri
age contract. I’m almost sure of it. The tea party will be my signing of the contract. You’ll witness it. Do you mind? I hope so.”

  He stood, picking up my packages with the contract as well. “I will despise it, just as you desire. I will be your witness, and I will wear red.”

  “And pink.”

  He smiled slightly as he turned towards his truck. “And pink. I am sorry, Cara Mia. For the poisoning of your body but mostly the poisoning of your mind against her. She hurt you enough on her own terms, but I needed you to trust me.”

  “So you could kill me without my resistance? Surely you know that I’m such an idiot I would never allow something like the threat of death keep me from someone I loved.”

  He hesitated before he sighed deeply and continued away from me. Yes, he knew. But he’d lied anyway.

  Chapter 12

  Mage

  I spent three days working on my new project after giving her my contract when she sent me the invitation. It was under my door Friday morning, the artwork the same as she had used to illustrate the goods on her shop. I hadn’t gotten around to updating that. Yet.

  “Professor Cadaver, you’ll have to be on your best behavior at the tea party this evening.” I sat down on the black couch and leaned on the knees of my bedazzled pants while I studied the brown mouse who nibbled his cookie with a serious twitch of his whiskers. He had on his little green top hat. He got more snacks when he wore it. Because I couldn’t help it. Penny had infected me with her love of cuteness. And now she was having a tea party. Would she use my contract as confetti, or would she sign it?

  I’d focused on raw, physical labor in the woods, working on her wedding present, but I’d still been twitchy ever since I gave it to her. When I saw her in class, she gazed at me like I was the only person in the universe. But maybe she was just setting me up for a heart crushing surprise. I texted Ian, no response, the same with Zach and even Pete. Pete always replied immediately, so Penny had probably involved him in her madness, and he was unable to escape.