Dread Delight: Rosewood Academy for Witches and Mages (Darkly Sweet Book 2)

by Juliann Whicker

  “Okay. Open them.”

  I opened my eyes. She was holding a little pink cage with a mouse behind bars. As I watched, the mouse stood on its back legs and twitched its nose at me.

  “That’s a mouse.”

  “I’m training him for you. So he can ride in your hat during tea parties.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say so I cleared my throat instead. “Won’t Señor Mort eat him?”

  She frowned. “You’ll have to protect him. I was thinking of naming him Professor Cadaver. What do you think? I mean, you can name him whatever you like, because he’s yours, because I owe you.”

  I slipped around her so I could pull her back against my chest while I leaned my chin on her shoulder. I stared down at the mouse while she stood there, frozen but not fainting. “Professor Cadaver is perfect. Where did you find him?”

  She inhaled deeply, and I slid my hands around her waist until she was wrapped in my arms. I closed my eyes and tried to stretch out that moment for a very long time.

  “In the woods.” She leaned against me and for a moment her sweetness filled my arms and the world. She straightened up suddenly, slipping through my fingers. “Let’s eat.”

  After drinking tea and eating cakes and sandwiches, I taught her card games. She’d never played so much as Go Fish. She was ridiculously adorable with Señor Mort helping her pick cards. He was the most well-trained animal I’d ever seen, and the way he nuzzled her cheek and squeaked in her ear, it seemed like he was giving her very good advice because on her third hand, she beat me.

  I didn’t mind even a little bit. Why was that? As I floated to my room afterwards, I sang loudly, Spanish Opera.

  When I entered the dining room at six fifteen for dinner, I saw Penny where she sat on a bench. A girl walked by and ‘accidentally’ dumped her coleslaw on Penny’s head. Penny just shook off the stuff, while the girl visibly fumed at the lack of reaction. I wanted to rip the girl’s head off and stuff it down her throat. If only such things were possible as well as legal.

  I walked stiffly to my customary table in the corner, but after sitting there for a few minutes, I got up, walked over, and sat down beside Penny. With the eyes of the cafeteria on me, I took my fork and started combing out the coleslaw.

  “What are you doing?”

  I slipped my fingers through her curls, gripping the base of her skull so she couldn’t turn her head. “I bet that dressing has fabulous conditioning properties. Your hair is going to be glossy, even if it has the subtle aroma of mayonnaise and dill.”

  She laughed. “You’re using a fork on my hair. Be careful that you don’t accidentally lose it in there. My curls can be voracious.”

  “How terrifying, voracious curls with good enough manners to eat with utensils.” I worked until her hair was free of bits of cabbage, then I reached into my inner coat pocket and pulled out a feather. It was a little bit ragged, but the color was a lovely shade of green. I braided a thin strand of hair and wove in the feather, then tied a knot in the end.

  “What is that?” She shook her head until her hair swirled around her face then she captured the feather in her fingers, studying the green with black splotches. “It’s beautiful.” She looked up at me, past the feather and smiled, but it wasn’t the smile she put on when she was irritated. It was soft and lit up her eyes so the gold and green were bright and luminous.

  She liked it. I smiled back then turned to my dinner, using my fork even though it tasted of slaw and Penny’s shampoo.

  “Attention, students.” The quiet voice pierced the room, cutting through every conversation whispered or otherwise.

  We all turned in one body towards the small woman who stood in a neat navy suit, hair in an immaculate chignon and blue eyes bright beneath her spectacles. When she was certain that she had our attention, Madame Pritchard walked towards our table with the grace that belied her shark-like instincts for weakness.

  I slipped my hand over Penny’s and pulled her closer to me.

  “Who is that?” Penny whispered, gazing at me with her large, luminous eyes.

  “Madame Pritchard. She runs this fine establishment. Don’t get on her bad side. She only has a bad side.”

  By then, the superintendant of Rosewood had arrived at our table and stood on the opposite side of us where she stared down her nose at me for a long time before her lips twisted.

  “Mr. Huntsman. We are organizing the annual Student Show. I anticipate your participation with great keenness. You will perform with Witley for the finale. Any questions?”

  It was hard to maintain my lazy smile. I inhaled deeply and shrugged. “I’d rather not.”

  Her eyes narrowed and her attention shifted to Penny. “Miss Lane. You’ve never attended one of our shows, have you? If Mr. Huntsman doesn’t wish to participate, you will perform with Witley in his place.”

  Penny stared at Madame Pritchard. “What kind of performance?”

  Her lips tightened and her eyes took on the beady glare of a bloodthirsty weasel. I knew that look and was not surprised when she said, “a musical piece, naturally.”

  I cleared my throat. “I’m signing up with Zach and a few others to do a classical guitar piece that will be sure to fill your heart with warmth as well as the usual dances including the ballet corps and something Oscar is choreographing. I’d hate for people to think that I want to hog all the attention. Give someone else the finale, someone who wants it.”

  She ignored me even though I was very loud, very clear. Whatever Witley had done to persuade Madame Pritchard, my refusal was unheard. Madame kept staring at Penny until she shifted uneasily.

  She bit her lower lip then smiled at Madame brightly. “I’m not very musical, but I guess if you want…”

  “Madame Pritchard!” Witley came up with a winning smile on her perfectly made up face. “I’m so excited about this year’s show. Is everything worked out for the finale?” She stared at me with ice in her blue eyes.

  I stared back before I smiled and shrugged. “Fine, but you’re not putting Penny on the stage.”

  Penny elbowed me. “What do you mean? I’m a student. Aren’t all the students supposed to perform?”

  I inhaled deeply. I was trying to save her from humiliation. Of course, when did Penny Lane mind being humiliated? “Fine. I’ll do Pas de Deux with you, but that’s all. Otherwise Witley can croak all by herself.”

  “Wonderful!” Witley grabbed my shoulders and squeezed them before she turned to beam at Madame Pritchard. “This is going to be the most memorable Winter Extravaganza of all time!”

  Madame glanced at me, raised her eyebrow then shot Penny an ominous glance before she turned and walked out as though raising her nose would make her taller.

  “She could just wear heels,” Penny said as she stabbed an asparagus too hard so it got all mashed up.

  I nudged her. “Does her lack of heels upset you?”

  She shook her head. “I think I almost bit Witley when she put her hands on your shoulders. It’s almost like I need to put a shirt on you, ‘Property of Penny Lane. Do not touch.’” She gave me a sidelong glance while a blush crept up her cheeks. She had the most delicious blush. I wanted to make her blush on a regular basis.

  “It could be arranged,” I murmured making her blush deepen. I cleared my throat and forced myself to release her hand and pull a notebook out of her bag instead. “Do you want to collaborate on the choreography or leave it up to me?”

  She frowned. “Don’t you think that it would be best if you took care of that? It sounded like you’re going to be busy, though. I could just do something else, like juggling with Viney! That would be fun, or yodeling.”

  “You yodel?”

  She shrugged. “How hard can it be?”

  I laughed and tugged on a curl letting it bounce back into place. “I think I’d better keep a close eye on you, maybe a few hands as well. I’ll do the choreography, the music, the costume, but you have to promise to work very hard and be the best little b
allerina you can be.”

  She cocked her head as she stared at me. “I won’t be able to walk, will I? All right. I’ll practice as long as you say, but you have to promise me something.”

  “What?” Anything.

  Her glance fell down to my lips. “It can’t cut into community service time or other important Tuesday activities.” Her blush was beautiful as her eyes once more met mine. “And you have to make me look good.”

  “Done.”

  She frowned slightly. “What kind of musical duet will you do with Wit?”

  I licked my lips. She wouldn’t believe me if I said singing. Or more to the point, she’d realize that I’d been pretending to sing badly this entire time. Would she feel hurt if she realized that I wasn’t as terrible a singer as her? She was truly terrible, but it was endearing that she sang enthusiastically anyway. “She’ll probably want me to arrange parts, and accompany, of course. She’ll sing.”

  She nodded slowly and wrinkled her nose. “She sings well?”

  “Like a peacock. I mean, a lark. Do larks sing well? I’ve never actually heard one. We should find a lark and train it to sing duets with Señor Mort and Professor Cadaver.” I stood up because this conversation might not end precisely well. “I’ll see you tomorrow in class.”

  She nodded and smiled, but I could have sworn there was disappointment behind the curve of her lips. “Penny, try to miss me.” I took her hand, brushed my lips over the back, and winked at her.

  My life was utter chaos. I sat in the middle of the auditorium with Penny’s notebook, scribbling down the basic choreography for whatever dance we’d do, while students came onstage and showed me what they had in mind. These were the final auditions. The Winter Extravaganza wasn’t just a student showcase, it was the best and brightest of Rosewood. Not just parents would be filling up the enormous auditorium, with rows upon rows of seats, but alumni would come to see the rising potential mages and witches, would consider them for internships and memberships in the specialized groups.

  The chess demo was odd but charming. The fact that Penny would like it was the only reason I allowed them to perform. Ian came and sat down behind me while I scratched on my notebook and ignored the three witches onstage.

  “Isn’t Penny completely new to ballet?” Ian asked.

  “Mm.”

  “Shouldn’t you be working with her right now?”

  I turned to look at him. “Are you here to irritate me?”

  “I could help her.” He leaned over his knees, golden eyes flickering.

  I hesitated. Ian was an excellent dancer. To be perfectly honest, he’d always been better at Pas de Deux than me because he could sense his partner much more than I ever could. I was wrapped up in myself, and Ian was extremely attuned to females. That’s why I hesitated. I did not need Ian falling in love with Penny, or vice versa. Mostly vice versa.

  He laughed and punched my shoulder. “It would irritate Wit. Ever since she found out about Penelope Rose, she’s changed tactics. If you want a princess, she’s going to be a princess.”

  “Penny isn’t a princess.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Lights, choreography, backdrop, music, costume, and of course, training, where are you going to come up with the time for that? She’s a beginner. You want her to look good. She needs to practice at least three hours a day. After school.”

  I gritted my teeth. Three hours a day of Ian close to Penny in practically nothing, touching her, talking to her, seducing her? “No.”

  He smiled, the smile of someone who has already won the argument. “I suppose she’ll just have to be a laughingstock then. It will look like you set her up to fail.”

  I turned and glared at the girl who tripped over the lines of her exposition when she saw my face. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number. Zach picked up almost immediately.

  “Can you babysit Ian and Penny every day for three hours until the Extravaganza?”

  Silence on the line. “Every day?”

  “Two hours on Tuesday, before Community Service.”

  He laughed. “Sure. He’s a good choice.”

  I turned to glance at Ian. “No, he’s the worst, but he’ll do.” I hung up and nodded shortly. “You may assist the fair Penny Lane to become the ballerina she never wanted to be. You’re welcome.”

  He squeezed my shoulder and stood. “Don’t worry. I’m not interested in seducing her.”

  “Liar.”

  He laughed, a golden ringing laugh that took me back to Darkside. “Fair enough. I’m more interested in seeing her succeed to spite Witley than I am in seducing her. I think as long as she has your feather in her hair, it will be impossible for anyone else to seduce her. If you need any other assistance, let me know.”

  I ground my teeth but let it go. I had to be extremely efficient and organized if I could take off the entire afternoon and evening on Tuesday without the fallout spreading through the rest of the week.

  Chapter 32

  Witch

  Drake never mentioned me fainting in the tourney. I couldn’t explain it however many times Viney yelled at me or Zach frowned in concern. Of course he was concerned. If I dropped dead, he wouldn’t see Pitch any more.

  I sat in class, fiddling with the feather Drake had tied in my hair. Maybe I should take it out, but it was so pretty and the knots he made were probably magic so I couldn’t take them out. And it was so soft. And I could still feel his hands gently tugging, and hear his low voice as he murmured, and…

  “What is that hideous thing?”

  Witley was the hideous thing which had arrived at my desk and looked at me with extreme contempt on her otherwise perfect face. I frowned at the feather in mock concern then up at Witley. “Do you think so? It’s a good thing that I’m not beautiful so the feather would look out of place on me.”

  Her lip curled in a snarl. “I’m sure. The other night, I thought you dropped dead. No such luck.”

  “Would that be lucky? It sounds terrible. They might have had to stop the tourney and you wouldn’t get to witness Drake fight Oscar. I wish I hadn’t passed out. Maybe they have a feather that helps with that.”

  She studied the feather for a moment while her fingers twitched with the urge to rip it out of my hair. “It’s doubtful. I understand you’re practicing with Ian today while I rehearse with Drake.”

  I held my breath for a moment before I managed a sickly smile at her. “Oh?”

  Her smile grew. “You should enjoy yourself. Ian is an exquisite partner.”

  “You too. Drake is an amazing musician.” And I was going to rip out her tongue so that she could never sing again.

  She turned and sauntered away, hips swaying to emphasize the fact that she had won and I had lost. I pulled out my phone and texted Drake furtively.

  Witley just told me that Ian is dancing with me. ???

  It took a moment for Drake to reply.

  Zach will be there as chaperone. Ian is a great dancer.

  I scowled at the phone. How much help did he think I needed? I tossed it in my bag and took careful notes through the rest of class.

  In linguistics I asked Zach about the whole thing in Spanish, because that was the only language I knew well enough to talk about something serious, and he shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal that I’d have to spend three hours after school every day dancing with Ian. There was something wrong with him if he didn’t see that it was the biggest deal ever.

  In ballet Madame Torture was even harder on me than usual. Ian was one of those wolves who would gobble you up and leave you craving more. He was like Drake. I did not need another like Drake. One was enough. More than enough, far too much when you got right down to it, which I did at lunch because Drake stepped behind me as I was waiting in line and drew me away by the elbow, leading me to the corner table where a feast lay out for me.

  I might have been able to resist his charming smile and seductive lips, but I couldn’t ignore five different kinds of cheese. We didn’t talk. He
was working on his computer with my notebook that he’d stolen, and his phone, seeming to use all three at once while he ate. It was kind of amusing to watch him type, text and stab a ravioli at the same time. Of course it was always fun to watch him no matter what he did. He was simply beautiful with that russet hair and those dark eyes, his hands calloused but gentle, musician hands, while his suit was perfectly tailored to his well-muscled torso.

  We both ate and sat together until I finally interrupted him. I cleared my throat leaned closer. “I’d rather not dance with Ian for three hours every day.”

  He raised an eyebrow and stared at me, a smile twitching on his mouth. He was going to kiss me again on Tuesday if I didn’t faint. I tried not to stare at his mouth. “Ian is a very good dancer.”

  “That’s what you said, but at the same time, I’d really rather not. I’d rather have a not so good and not so Ian dance partner, if it’s all the same to you.”

  He smiled broadly. “Ah. If only it were all the same. It’s not. You see, with Ian, I can be certain that you will have the training you need to fulfill your potential. I don’t want you to do well, I want you to amaze or ‘look good’ as you said.”

  I fiddled with my fork. “I’m not competing with Witley or anyone else here. I know I’m not going to impress anyone, I just don’t want to be horrible.”

  He leaned close enough I smelled black cherry while his knee brushed mine. “Penny, there’s this thing about me that you should know. I don’t do anything halfway. Behind this indolent smirk is the drive of a truly psychotic sorcerer. This is a performance, and I’m your partner. Believe me, you will impress.” He tilted his head and brushed his lips across my cheek.

  Any protestations I had died while the feel of his soft lips spread through me. He was so sweet and smelled so good and if I turned my head, I could touch my lips to his.

  Before I could, he pulled away and stood. I smiled up at him. “What kind of an emergency was that? I think you’re just wily about getting your way.”

  He grinned broadly as he brushed his fingers over the skin he’d kissed. “You’re the one who said that you wanted to look good.”