Abandon: Book Three of the Forgotten Affinities Series

by Analeigh Ford

  Even I have to look away—but not before I admire the surprising roundness of his naked buttocks and such a brief glimpse of what lay on the other side that I’m left both red from embarrassment, and hot from something else. It isn’t the first time Flynn’s demonstrated a complete lack of any sense of modesty…at least where his own nudity is concerned.

  “Damn it Flynn, this is a public dorm,” Cedric snaps, though I’m glad to hear some humor in his voice.

  “And?” Flynn says, taking his time as he tugs on a pair of white briefs. “What a man wears to bed is no one else’s business.”

  “You just made it our business,” Cedric says. He pulls back his own covers and hastily pulls on the same pants he wore yesterday. He wears boxers that do little to conceal him either. If we were alone right now…

  But we’re not.

  I take a second to adjust my own dress as well, but it’s pretty much hopeless. Cedric sees me struggling and offers to lend me his shirt.

  It’s especially kind, knowing that he has more to hide than a little extra cleavage. I shake my head and try to simultaneously pull up the front of my dress and pull down the back at the same time.

  “It’s okay,” I say, finally getting myself out of bed and wincing at the ache in my calves from last night. Nothing I do with the dress is going to make me look any more decent. I don’t bother with the high heels. These people are just going to have to accept me, bare feet and all. I doubt it’s the most shocking thing to ever walk down these halls.

  We weren’t exactly given the full tour the day before, so we mostly just stumble our way out of the sleeping quarters and out into the main hallway in search of food. We pass by several more mages, but none of them even gives us a second glance. They must be so used to new people wandering the hallways looking confused that we don’t even phase them as anything out of the ordinary.

  I don’t know if there are more lights on out here, or if I am just getting more accustomed to the dark. So far, the complex is made of a series of long angular hallways that amplify every noise. It would be near impossible to sneak around in here unnoticed, though I suppose that may be partially the point.

  Like the sleeping quarters, the dining hall is also communal. I recognize it from last night. There is a single long table comprised of many smaller tables butted up against one another. Although I get the impression that breakfast is already mostly over with, there are still enough people sitting at the tables that we have to pick our way through some general pandemonium to find three seats close together.

  I’ve almost settled in and started reaching for a basket of fresh biscuits when I catch a glimpse of a familiar face in one of the shiny metal serving bowls and whirl around.

  “Acacia?”

  The Ritual Mage reappears from behind a magically floating tray of food she was attempting to hide behind. It only takes me one second to do a quick sweep around me to spot Horatio as well.

  Acacia sheepishly steps over to stand beside us. “Hello Octavia,” her eyes dart to the side and widen as she sees the others, specifically Cedric. “What are you doing here?”

  “I think we’d like to know the same thing,” I say. Acacia, however interesting, is not worth missing biscuits over. I grab one and shove half of it in my mouth, hoping it will signal that I expect her to answer first.

  She shoves the person sitting next to Flynn aside, and then sits down beside him. She grabs one of the biscuits as well, but rather than eating it, just picks at it absentmindedly until Horatio comes over and snatches it out of her hand.

  “Don’t waste it,” he says. “There’s already too many mouths to feed.”

  He eyes the three of us here, me, Flynn, and Cedric for a moment, but unlike Acacia, he does not try to hide.

  “Most of the Ritual Mages are actually working for The Underground,” he says. “I mean, even Draven. But you knew that.”

  “Well yeah, but that was before…” I start, though I’m still not finished chewing.

  Horatio cuts me off anyway. “You never really leave, though. I think you know that.”

  “Well,” it’s Cedric who speaks. He cuts his eyes over to me, and then back up at Horatio. “I think that depends on your circumstances.”

  Horatio just keeps looking at us, unblinking and unsmiling. Acacia finally jumps back up to her feet and starts shooing him away. She tries to smile at me, but I can tell it’s strained.

  “We’ve got to go,” she says quickly. “Don’t want them to miss us back at the academy.”

  I want to follow them and see how exactly they go back and forth between the two, but I’m stopped as Cedric turns back to breakfast and continues talking.

  “You know, I always wondered about the current Ritual class,” he says. He reaches for a bowl of fruit, but after checking the label to see what country the apples came from, he puts it back and goes for a mini box of cereal instead. “You don’t want to profile them, you know, but you can see where that got us.”

  “Yeah, here without…” I don’t have time to finish my sentence as my brain finally decides to function normally and actually forms a full thought. I jump up from the table and start pushing my way past the rest of the mages lingering at breakfast. I see the back of Acacia’s short dark curls disappear out into the hall and follow. “Acacia!”

  She has just enough time to look back and make eye contact with me before I am distracted by something else.

  Some kind of fight has broken out near the front entrance of the compound. Several tall figures stand too close to one another, their voices low but threatening. Then one of them lifts both his arms and shoves the other in the chest—hard.

  It isn’t until I am close enough to make out their features that I see who it is.

  Kendall has somehow already gone and gotten himself into trouble.

  The man Kendall shoved takes no time lashing out in return, but he is not so kind as to offer a warning shove. Before any of us even has the chance to react, he’s caught Kendall by one of his arms and twisted it up behind his back. The other man, the one Draven recognized as Edgar, steps forward and raises his fist, ready to strike him across the face.

  “Stop!” I don’t remember summoning the word, but it tumbles from my lips nonetheless. I push past Acacia and Horatio, and all the rest of the crowd that has begun to gather at the crux of the hallways, and go to stand between the trio of fighting mages.

  Kendall grunts angrily, but I don’t have time to tell him to shove his pride aside for the time being.

  Edgar does not immediately lower his fist. Anger burns in his eyes, the edges squinted up as he decides whether or not to strike me instead.

  “Please,” I hiss through my teeth. “We don’t want any trouble.”

  For a second, Edgar’s eyes leave my own. They rake my body from top to bottom, hardening in a new way that makes me swallow from discomfort. But then, after just another moment of deliberation, he slowly lowers his fist. He keeps it clenched at his side, however, as if to serve as a reminder that we are not safe yet.

  I don’t let my eyes leave the man who was going to beat the both of us until he got a better look at me. Kendall’s arms are released, and he falls forward into mine. There is little I can do to stop him falling half forward onto the floor. He’s too heavy for me to support, but he is soon getting unsteadily back to his feet.

  When I do finally look away, I see the same anger from Edgar’s face mirrored on Kendall’s. A muscle twitches on his jaw, his teeth clenched so tight that when he opens his mouth to speak—his teeth appear almost animal in the way they are bared.

  “If you had touched her,” he begins, but he is unable to find an appropriate threat for what he would have done. I try to grab his arm to steady him, but he brushes me off so hard it’s my turn to stumble back.

  Edgar’s eyes flicker back over to me. “Looks like I may not be the one she needs to worry about.”

  I think Kendall is going to strike him next when a different voice cuts in. />
  He does not have to raise his voice for everyone in the hall to freeze. Those far enough down the hall try to creep back and disappear altogether into the shadows. Bram emerges from the crowd, his footsteps followed by the steady drum of the cane he carries at his side.

  Draven also appears in the crowd. His face goes pale at the sight of us, but he does not rush out in front of Bram. He holds back, following behind, though I can tell from the way his veins bulge in his neck that it takes everything in him not to run out and rescue me.

  Even Edgar and the other mage stand down at the sight. It takes Kendall another moment, his gaze turning from each one of us to the next, before he slowly begins to let down his guard.

  Bram stops in the middle of the hall. He observes for a moment, taking everything in. When his gaze finally settles on Edgar, I’m glad to see a little hint of something like fear appear there on Edgar’s face.

  “I thought I hired you to keep the peace here,” he says.

  Edgar straightens a little. “This one was trying to leave.”

  He grabs Kendall by the shoulder and shoves him around to face Bram. He’s barely an inch or two taller than my Earth Mage, but the ease with which he does it makes me cringe.

  Bram just keeps staring at Edgar. “And you stopped him. That should suffice.”

  “But—”

  Bram stops him with a look. His cane drags across the rough concrete floor as he turns to look at me next. His voice comes out sharp and abrasive.

  “I told you to keep them in check.”

  I struggle to find the ability to speak. When I do, it is soft and throaty.

  “I promise, it won’t happen again.”

  Bram doesn’t look convinced. He slowly lifts his other hand to rest on the top of his cane, and all around us, I feel everyone still once more.

  Kendall stiffens a moment beside me too, and then suddenly brushes past me and all the rest to stalk back off in the direction of the sleeping quarters without waiting to hear the rest of what Bram has to say.

  I have to stop myself following. I almost expect Bram to chastise him, but his gaze just shifts back to Edgar and the other man, then slowly, all the rest of us.

  “It’s been a long time coming,” he says. “But from here on out, no one leaves the complex without my express permission.”

  Mutters erupt all around us. I see Acacia open her mouth to protest, but Bram silences them all by lifting his cane up, slightly, and then bringing it down with a dull thud. That thing, whatever it is, ripples across my vision. I don’t know how, but somehow, I sense a difference. Something’s changed. It isn’t until I see the way the eyes of the crowd have shifted from me to something behind me that I turn to see what it is.

  The entrance is completely gone. All that remains in its place is a smooth, unmarked concrete wall.

  “The Underground is to remain sealed until our task is complete,” Bram says, this time, just to me. And just like that, he taps his cane once more, and he is gone.

  A collective breath releases all around me. Shoulders slump, Acacia turns to Horatio and gives him a pleading look, and I hear a rustle behind me as even Edgar’s posture finally softens.

  “What was that one so anxious to get out of here for?” he asks, no real concern in his voice.

  I shoot him as angry a look as I can muster. “Some of us don’t actually want to be here, you know.”

  He shrugs, sarcasm heavy in his voice. “Could have fooled me.”

  I just ignore it and follow after Kendall as fast as I can. Draven catches me by the sleeve as I pass, and for a brief moment, we lock eyes. But then he lets go and I think he approaches Edgar, but I can’t wait around to see what it is he says.

  I have to find Kendall before he tries to disappear again. I shouldn’t have left him alone to his thoughts last night. This is my fault in the first place, and I have to be the one to fix it.

  4

  Kendall

  I know that Octavia didn’t mean to separate me and Wednesday, but that doesn’t negate the fact that she did. I thought that we’d outgrown any kind of twin instincts, but ever since Bram pulled me through the veil into the in-between and left Wednesday on the other side, I’ve felt a growing sense of anxiety that can only mean one thing.

  Wednesday is in trouble. Unless I can get out of this place I can’t actually do anything about it. That is the worst part.

  That and the fact that I probably just ruined any chance of getting word to her through the mages who might have actually been able to gather some information.

  I stop walking, only just now actually realizing where I am.

  I meant to head to the sleeping quarters, but I must have barged right past it in my blind determination to get away before Octavia had to try and rescue me again. I now find myself in a small room lined with lockers. It’s too small to be considered a proper “locker room,” but it’s the only place I’ve seen so far where I can get a single moment to myself.

  I take the opportunity to rest my forehead against one of the lockers. The press of metal is cold against the skin of my face. I can still hear the distant sound of voices and footsteps in the hall.

  I don’t even own anything anymore. I imagine Dr. Fashu and the rest have already ransacked my room and all the others’, looking for any sign of where The Underground might have taken us. There is no way they are going to believe that this was all a spur-of-the-moment decision.

  I ball my hand into a fist and slam it into the side of one of the lockers. The front buckles in and dents, much to my satisfaction.

  I don’t even know if I believe this was a spur-of-the-moment decision. How can someone accidentally pull four people into another plane of existence?

  “Kendall?”

  I whirl and catch Octavia standing wide-eyed in the doorway, her face pale. She certainly didn’t look like she had any idea she’d be leaving the real world behind for this one. For starters, she still wears the wrinkled and torn costume she let Wednesday pick out. Though I appreciated the way it accentuates Octavia’s curves last night, no one in their right mind would be caught dead in it in the day.

  At least my fake-blood-stained shirt covers my entire torso.

  My natural instinct is to believe her, to catch her up in my arms and comfort her; but a hot anger keeps me away. Instead of enveloping her, I take a step back. My hand stings a bit from abusing the metal locker, but I try not to let it show.

  “Can’t a man get a moment of peace?” I say, realizing immediately how cutting the words sound.

  She doesn’t run away as I would imagine she would. She just glances over her shoulder before taking another step inside.

  “I’m so sorry.” She tries to look at me, but then quickly looks down at the floor and shuffles her feet uncomfortably. “I didn’t realize—”

  “That’s the problem,” I say, once again surprising myself. I’ve never been a man of many words, but for some reason, all that changed when she took Wednesday away from me. Whatever it was I’d planned to say catches in my throat.

  That’s the problem, isn’t it? I know it isn’t right to feel it, but it’s that thought that keeps coming to the surface of my mind.

  “It’s because of you that we’re here,” I say. “Wednesday is out there, and she needs me, and I can’t help her.”

  She flinches at the accusation, but she still doesn’t look at me. “I was going to ask Acacia and Horatio to check up on her.”

  “Who the hell are they?”

  Now she does meet my gaze. Frustration twitches at the space between her brows.

  “They’re Ritual Mages I know. They used to go back and forth from here to the academy.” She purses her lips a moment and holds my gaze steady. “They would’ve helped if you hadn’t tried to run off.”

  “Don’t make this my fault.” Suddenly I am standing in front of her, and Octavia’s backed away into the lockers behind her. Her pale face tilts up to meet mine, and there is no frustration or sadness or guilt there
anymore.

  She matches my fury with her own and plants her hands squarely on my chest, pushing me away. Her hands are tiny and soft, but there is a hidden strength behind them. I know I should be concentrating on getting back to Wednesday and somehow fixing all this, but I can’t stop my pulse from racing at her touch.

  Heat boils inside me. It may be rage or passion or some combination of the two, but whatever it is, it makes me momentarily forget what we were arguing about. Instead of stepping back, I grab Octavia’s hands in my own and move them to press against the metal lockers beside her head.

  Her breath catches, and for a second, her bottom lip quivers. Her mouth opens, and I can sense a rebuttal on it, but I don’t give her the time to speak the words before I crush her mouth with my own.

  I should be gentle with her. After all, she’s probably been through even more than me over the last twenty-four hours, but I don’t care. The old Kendall might have stopped and drawn back, giving her the space to rest and recuperate and process her feelings. But I am tired of that. I am angry, and I am tired, and I am so confused—but I am not confused about how I feel for her.

  She gasps a bit as I move to pin the rest of her to the wall. Her hands strain against mine a bit, and I feel her body struggling against mine as she tries to free herself. I don’t let her go. She’s holding back because of the others, as she always has.

  Her pelvis pressed hard against mine makes fire steel down my spine. I’ve always held back, always done the right thing. There are four of us with her. Three others to think about. Wouldn’t it be fair though? I’ve known Octavia longer than all the rest, cared for her, wanted her.

  Why should I always be holding back?

  That same want drives me to let go of her arms and instead hoist her body up so her legs can wrap around my waist. She clutches to me, presses to me, kisses me back finally. Her hands wrap around the back of my neck a moment, pulling me tighter. I shift my weight and press her up against the lockers again. They clang with the sound of her back hitting against it, and for a second, I feel Octavia wince beneath me.