Dread Delight: Rosewood Academy for Witches and Mages (Darkly Sweet Book 2)
Page 2
“Cara mia, did you run all that way?”
I shook my head while I held myself tall, refusing to bend over my knees and catch my breath. He was here for business, not because he cared. No one cared, not really. I shouldn’t ever forget that. “Not all the way. Were you waiting very long?”
He shook his head as he came over, studying me with a curious expression on his misshapen face. “I don’t think you should be running with all the ingredients you’re carrying. Are you trying to extinguish yourself before your time?”
“That’s an idea.” I cocked my head. “I’d rather just extinguish everyone else. Do I need to sign?”
He held out the clipboard and I took it, signing before I undid my pack and handed the packages carefully over.
He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been upset.” He slid into our secret language easily.
I was still breathing hard but my body was cooling and the sweat under the silk made the breeze extra cold. “I seem to be much more than is practical. That’s all then.”
I turned around and started back with my much lighter pack, but he grabbed onto my bag, pulling me up short. I whirled around, knocked his hands off me then crouched, eying him warily.
He stared back, the expression in his eyes concerned. I looked away as I straightened. He wasn’t my enemy. I knew that, but at that moment trust seemed like a very stupid thing.
“Cara mia, what is it? Combustion, shrapnel, or impression?”
I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest while I stared over the field toward the hills and the school hidden from sight between the mostly bare trees. “It’s not hurters, just everything else. I’m so stupid. It’s humiliating and frustrating and…” I whirled around to face him. “How am I supposed to go to a school with all of those monsters and marry one of them? How? I’m not… I mean, it comes down to not having the necessary equipment to get the job done. I can’t do it. Even if I wanted to, which I don’t, I can’t.”
He laughed, the sound rough and charming, warming me up in spite of the chalky sky and low scudding clouds. “Only a fool asks another fool for advice, and you’re far too smart to ask an old fool like me, but I have seen my share of complications. You might feel better if you talk about it.”
I swallowed. I didn’t want to talk about anything that had happened. I could barely think about what I’d done to Drake and what Zach had done to me. “Do you remember when I used to dress up in pink ruffles and have tea parties on the roof and in the trees with my pets?”
He nodded. “Before Poppy roasted all your charming animals alive.”
I winced. “Right. Thanks to her and my mother, I grew up and learned better than that, except I didn’t. I’ve been pretending to be all these things, but the longer I pretend, the more real it feels, the easier it is. This black seems like the costume, not the pink and lollipops. I’ve gotten lost in the woods, and there are so many wolves. I don’t know what I’m going to do next. I mean I am going to do something and it’s going to be stupid and awful, and I won’t be able to stop myself.” I took a shuddering breath while I slid the black silk skirt through my fingers.
He put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s getting cold. There’s a storm blowing in. Let me take you back to your school. We’ll talk on the way.”
I shook my head and stepped away from him. “No. They’ll just use you against me, like last time. It’s better if I’m alone, then I don’t hurt anyone and no one hurts me.”
“Cara mia, I’m sorry to hear that.”
I bit my lip because his sympathy wasn’t what I needed. I didn’t need anything, certainly not gentleness, but I did. That was the terrible thing, how weak I was, needing a friend, someone who I could trust and rely on and love. Someone I could rip apart and devour and destroy.
I stared into his black eyes which were filled with an infinite amount of pain. I slumped slightly and put my hands on either side of his face. His skin was warm, hot almost. With my eyes closed I focused on his heat, the burning pain inside of him. Energy. I couldn’t do magic, but I could take the pain out of him. A low rumbling came from his chest while I siphoned out his pain, a knot that I could barely untangle before he took my hands in his, away from his face.
“Cara Mia, your hands are cold. When was the last you’ve eaten? How many days have you been locked away, making hurters?”
I pulled away from him, but his grip was intractable. I rolled my eyes. “I had waffles.”
“Before you walked down here, three, four hours through the woods, you must be starving, ready to eat my face off. Come in my truck. You eat then I’ll drive you back.”
I laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “Signore Ludi, are you offering to take me away with you as I begged so many times before? You’ll let me turn your truck into a magical gypsy wagon and have adventures with me every day before tea?”
He frowned, his dark eyebrows drawing together over fierce black eyes. “Penny, there’s a storm coming. Is your spell intact?”
I gripped his hands tightly, digging my nails into his thick skin. I didn’t even draw blood, and he didn’t notice. I twisted, ripping my hands out of his. “What spell?”
His lips curled wickedly. “The spell your good step-father placed on you, naturally, the one that protected you from the magic users at the school. What happened to it? What happened to you? Who harmed you?”
I stared at him for a long time before I smiled brightly. “That’s so funny you should ask. I was going to ask the same question, except I didn’t know that the protection spell was broken, so I couldn’t. Good thing I didn’t try to ride in a car. That would be so gross when I threw up all over everyone. It must be my excellent instincts keeping me from such a nauseating fate. This chat has been so fun, but you’re right, there’s definitely going to be a storm, and I am starving. I’d better be on my way. Good thing I left breadcrumbs I can eat on my way back.”
Before I could take another step, He had my wrist in his hand, grip like iron, hands hot. “Your clothing while extremely delicious, is not nearly as impermeable as it should be for hiking.” He shrugged out of his black jacket, handing it to me with a crooked smile, switching hands so he didn’t release my wrist. “You will borrow my coat, or I will drive you back to school, vomit and all. No, I think I would take you back to your home so that Revere and your mother…”
“Fine. I’ll take the coat.”
His lips curved in a smile, his scowl long since vanished as he finally released my wrist and draped the jacket around my shoulders. “I’ll take my coat back the next time you require a delivery.”
I sniffed the fabric, the weave rough and loose, but it was still warm from his body, and had a lot of layers to it. It hung heavy on my shoulders. I buttoned up the front while he settled the silk cloak over the coat that was much warmer than it looked. It was like a hug from Signore Ludi. I grabbed his hand and squeezed the calloused fingers, unable to let go for a moment.
He squeezed back before he pressed his thumb to my forehead. “I give you strength. Run fast, Cara Mia, and stay safe. Get inside before dark.”
I smiled at him before I hitched my now light pack on my shoulders and started back the way I’d come at a slow jog.
Chapter 3
Witch
The wind picked up before I made it to the trees. Although it was nice to have the wind not cut me quite through to the bone, the trees slowed me down. I should have taken Signore up on his offer. It would be so much fun to have my mother and Revere question me about everything. They would blame me for what happened with Zach, which must be what messed up the spell. He’d wiped it out with his search spell, which meant that he was extremely powerful, and therefore diabolical, which I should have known instead of thinking he was a nice guy. It was my fault. I hadn’t questioned my first impression about Zachary Stoneburrow. I should have been more paranoid, should never have mindlessly trusted him. What was wrong with me? Maybe my instincts were all upside down. Maybe Jackson was really a ni
ce guy since I felt so much revulsion for him. That was funny. No, there wasn’t anyone who I could trust, no one who was nice. I had to accept that I was here to marry a monster.
I stopped walking, staring at the slope of a ravine below me, tangled with matted underbrush, greenery studded with golden leaves. My breath curled in clouds which meant that the temperature had dropped and I was only about halfway back. My feet were cold bordering on numb in my pink flats. I should make my way to the road. It would be much faster than hiking through the tangled woods, but while I was fairly certain of my direction to the school, I couldn’t be sure of the road.
I would keep my course. Soon enough I’d be back in my room and I could make myself a nice pot of tea over my Bunsen burner. I hadn’t taken a dozen steps, sliding and stumbling down the ravine when it began to sleet. In ten minutes my cloak was stiff and heavy with iced water, only Signore’s jacket protecting me from the icy rain while the ground became covered in sheets of ice. I shivered as I struggled up a slope then fell down, sliding into a pile of rocks and scraping my leg up to my knee.
I inhaled sharply while I stared through the falling sleet in the dim light. I shouldn’t have been able to tell which way was towards the school, couldn’t tell anything in the darkness, the cold, the loneliness, but I felt a tug towards warmth, comfort, home. That direction I would find a hand to hold that would push back my rising panic. Panic attacks. Could there be anything more idiotic? Drake didn’t seem to mind.
It was almost as if he cared, but that was impossible. He was setting me up for something horrible, like Zach only worse. It would hurt so much when he finally broke my heart, but he would wait until it was swollen and ripe with love before he smashed it. I still had his broken-heart handkerchief.
I shook my head and struggled to my feet. This wasn’t the time to sit and daydream about Drake Huntsman, however delicious he was. I was so hungry. I smiled widely as I ascended a particularly brambly slope. “Poison, lips are venomous, poison…” I sang loudly, really loudly through the woods, my harsh song the only noise besides the whistling wind and the crackling ice beneath my feet.
Over my song I thought I heard something, a shrill sound that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
I saw an overhang to my left and headed there, untying my ribbon with stiff fingers while I pressed against the rock face, out of the direct onslaught of the sleet, but still wet, and of course cold. Hopefully she was passing by overhead and wouldn’t notice me. I pulled my phone out of my bag and fiddled with the small black ball the size of my thumbnail hanging from the bottom. I should have kept more hurters with me for emergencies.
I held perfectly still, pressed against the rock, rain dripping down my nose while my hair slicked against my head. Maybe I hadn’t heard anything after all.
I took a breath and almost relaxed when I saw a blur in my left periphery. I didn’t move my head to follow that, and was able to see the flicker of black on the right. More than one. I felt more than heard the presence above my head on the top of the rock, maybe twenty feet up. If there were three, then there were probably four, one for each direction. Unless there were eight. Even Pitch would break into a sweat with eight. I shook my head, blocking out thoughts of Pitch. I couldn’t let her get into my head. It was fine. I could take out four flying witches with one little hurter. Maybe if I could take two out with the hurter and fight the other two one-on-one, it was possible.
A glowing light beamed through the woods in front of me, a flicker that glowed bright, warm and beautiful. It was an enchantment, a lure and I almost moved towards that warm beacon. The woman became visible, her black gown of rich velvet that rippled with every step. Her face was beautiful, perfect, without the slightest touch of makeup so it was probably a glamour.
“Hello, my pretty. Are you lost in the woods?” Her voice was as beautiful as her face, warm and rich like a crackling fire on a nasty day.
My feet felt extra cold compared to the warmth that her voice promised me. I pushed my hair out of my face while I unhooked the black ball from my phone. “Who wants to know?”
She smiled brilliantly, her black eyes gleaming in pleasure. Was I not supposed to talk back? I couldn’t remember proper etiquette for woods frolics. “My name is Freesia. I know these woods well. Are you one of the sweet children that lives in the school? Did someone hurt you?”
I cocked my head and smiled back at her. “Of course not. The darling children would never hurt me. They are so delicious and lovely. Do you wait for them here, to suck on their bones, to nibble on their flesh?”
She hesitated, her fingers flicking to summon the two on the sides. “To absorb their youth and prolong my own?” She laughed, throwing her head back to show her beautiful throat. I moved, slamming my fist into that throat then dodging around her falling body. I slipped through the hands that caught at me, Signore Ludi’s coat slick to them. I dodged left, then right, before I spun around and threw the hurter at the three closely grouped witches.
I smiled while their eyes were horrified, shocked that their prey had tricked them. And then a flash of black fell between them and the hurter, the fourth witch. I turned and ran while waves of black and sparks of silver exploded around the group. For such a small thing it had a fabulous kick. Maybe it would take out one or two in spite of the witch blocking the explosion. Maybe so, but not likely. I really needed to pack more hurters. I could wear them in my hair, yes, and tied in my ribbon around my neck, and maybe in the laces on my shoes. Earrings. I’d never pierced my ears, but for a good cause…
A witch slammed me to the icy ground, my chin scraped raw on impact. I shifted and knocked her off me, rolling onto her while I grabbed her black hair. Another was on me, knocking me off the first, and then another, like that game, football, and I was on bottom with nothing besides a useless phone.
They pulled me apart, each witch grabbing one wrist or ankle until I was stretched out, kicking and waving my body while the sleet came down. I twisted and thrashed while cruel fingers dug into my skin.
Black eyes gazed at me unblinking until I stopped struggling. They could have ripped me into four pieces if they wanted. What did they want?
A witch twisted my phone out of my hand and glanced at it before tossing it away.
“You should get the number out of it,” the beautiful witch said. She still glowed golden, and her grip on my right ankle was actually warm, unlike the other three who sucked the heat out of me, proving that I still had some.
“It’s blocked by magespell,” the large witch said, number four, the one who had ruined my seriously great plan. Her eyebrows looked a little singed above my left wrist, the one that had held a phone a second before.
“All this for a number? You could have asked.”
Number four twisted my wrist. “Such a pretty girl. You were delivering packages to the Darksider. Those packages contained hurters, like the delicious little thing you threw back there. Those hurters are the hurters Pitch uses.”
I closed my eyes and held very still. They had to be messing with me. They were not here, four witches to try and find Pitch. It was just so stupid. She twisted my wrist until I heard the bone creak. I winced and stared up at her, her black eyes surrounded by creases that should give her a little more wisdom.
“Why are you looking for…her?” I’d almost said her name. I couldn’t say it, couldn’t think it. She would hear.
“We want to know what she is. Such a special girl, a little bit like you, such a talented hurt-maker. We will take you with us, and she will come to find you.”
I kept my eyes wide open. I couldn’t close my eyes, because the darkness was where it waited, where she waited. “You’re making a mistake. She doesn’t care what happens to me. You can’t steal a witch from Rosewood without consequences.”
Her lips curled in a grotesque smile, white face, blood red lips, yellowed teeth. Ew. “And who will know?” She nodded to her friends and they all rose into the air, me between them.
“Don’t worry,” the beautiful one crooned. “Pitch will come and save you.”
Number four cackled, her voice prickly. “Pitch will come and we will take her apart and put her back together again inside out.”
“Pitch,” I whispered.
The night became black. Pitch black. There was a rustle like wings and then number four fell, the sound of her hitting branches on her way to the ground while she screamed this horrible shriek, like half of her throat had been torn out. Don’t ask how I know what that sounds like.
Droplets of blood fell on my face, warm blood as my other hand became free and the other witch fell. I couldn’t see her, only hear her fall. Pitch had come with her pain and we would all suffer before she was finished.
Macaroons and petit-fours. I dangled by my ankles and then both dropped me. I hit branches and bodies as the other witches fell with me. I landed on the legs of a half-decapitated witch, the beautiful face still beautiful even in death, the other three piles of rags around me. If I could see, that meant she wanted me to see. Which meant I would have to see her. I looked up and she floated there, black eyes, white face, black hair long and glistening like oil, like Witley’s silk cloak.
“Go away.”
She smiled, white lips unamused, but at least when I saw her teeth they were nice and white. “Poor little Penny. Did someone hurt you?”
I flinched. “Not yet.”
She dropped down, silent, almost instantaneously, one moment ten feet above me, the next crouched over my body. I froze while she studied me. She reached out with one finger and poked it into the chest above my heart leaving a half moon from her nail when she pulled back. “Penny pretends but the heart whispers truth. Your love is black as the night, as rich as desire, as sweet as pain.”