Ill Will

by Cate Corvin

  “We’ll see.” I thought I saw a shadow cross Sura’s perfectly-sculpted features, but then that seductive smile was back so quickly I couldn’t be sure. “You look like you’ve got a dark side.”

  Without thinking, I looked away, unwilling to meet those glittering onyx eyes, until Will laughed. “She’s too sheltered to have a dark side.”

  I glanced up at Sura. He smiled like the world was a joke and he was the only one in on it.

  Sexy as it was, I had no interest in being the butt of that joke. The shit I’d seen would leave a dark mark on anyone. “Don’t we all have one?”

  The Caitland-Moore’s secret halls came to an abrupt halt, culminating in another set of gorgeous doors. These ones were huge, towering overhead, and the runes were burnished gold this time. “Seniors are the last to be divided.” Will gave me an impatient look, like I’d been holding him up the entire time. “The other years are already divided into teams and in their dorms.”

  He touched one of the doors, and it opened on its own with a low groan.

  I caught a brief glimpse of an ivory chandelier hanging from a vaulted ceiling covered in frescoes, but the weight of nearly forty pairs of eyes landing on me drove the lovely architecture from my head.

  The other seniors of Libra Academy watched as we walked in, all of them loosely grouped into what I realized was two factions.

  They already knew their teams. Or at least they thought they did.

  Sura kept his grip on my arm and guided me after Will. Part of me wanted to tug away from him and walk in on my own, but I was feeling pretty dazzled in that moment.

  Will might make fun of me for being podunk, but now I could see why. I was pretty sure there was more money in clothes, jewelry, and purses here than my family had ever seen. Through the sea of Rolexes, I spotted a pair of diamond stud earrings that put my Mom’s extravagant wedding band to shame, and a glance down showed numerous pairs of red-soled high heels.

  I wanted to tell the girl in the six-inch heels that if she got in a fight while wearing those she was fucked, but being a pedantic twat was no way to make friends. She was already giving me a skeptical eye anyways, twirling one flawless chestnut curl around a manicured fingertip.

  Christ, I was already developing a complex. My nails were filed down to the quick. Who wanted to break a nail while trying to take out a rabid moonspawn?

  “Is that the new sister, Will?” The casual, languid way she said his name suddenly made a lot about their relationship very clear. That was the way you said the name of someone you’d fucked. A lot.

  Honestly, she looked like his type. I wasn’t surprised. What I didn’t like was how she talked about me like I wasn’t there.

  “Victoria Holmwood.” Now Will sounded like he was the corpse at the funeral. “New sister. Apolline Moreau. Ex-girlfriend.”

  Spot-fucking-on. If I ever wanted to, I could probably get a job as a second-rate psychic.

  “Hey. Call me Tori.” I held out my hand to Apolline, who looked at it like I’d dredged it from under a dumpster.

  Wow, okay. My nails weren’t that bad.

  “Send her over to Lux.” Apolline jerked her dainty chin towards the opposite side. “We’re full.”

  The petty part of me wanted to burst out laughing. She seriously thought she was the Head Bitch in Charge over on Team Darkness and Death. What was this, a ‘join us, we have cookies’ joke?

  The rest of me was pissed as hell. What kind of person was that rude for no reason?

  “They haven’t divided us yet.” Will leaned against a pillar and crossed his arms over his chest. “You might be Lux.”

  His jade eyes flashed at me and away just as quickly. Might my asshole stepbrother actually be defending me, in his roundabout way?

  Sura just laughed at Apolline. “I’ll take Victoria the Beautiful over you any day, Polly-Wanna-Cracker.”

  Apolline flushed an ugly red color, and I wished I could turn back time five seconds to shut Sura up. Gorgeous as he was- and as tingly as that compliment had left me- I had a feeling his declaration had just earned me my first enemy at Libra.

  All I wanted was to get through this year with top marks, no drama, and a stable, tolerant relationship with my stepbrother.

  And maybe just a bite of Sura.

  Or several.

  Maybe a whole goddamn feast spread out over his brawny chest-

  “Welcome to your final year at Libra Academy, seniors.” A patrician voice rang through the hall, bouncing off marble walls and silencing the brewing murmurs. I was the only one who craned my neck to see the new speaker. “When the final semester concludes, your names will be etched into these illustrious halls. Your families will be honored. You will always have a clan name in Libra.”

  A tall, thin man moved toward us with languid strides, wearing a rumpled linen suit the color of bone with a vivid crimson tie. The colorless thatch of hair on top of his head was sticking up in all directions. I had the odd impression of a scarecrow with sea-legs when he walked.

  All in all, he was the last person I would’ve expected as the face of Libra Academy.

  “Most of you already know me, but we have some new faces this year.” Yeah, right. Everyone’s eyes flicked to me for a second, but no one else. They were all too comfortable with each other to be anything other than friends and close acquaintances. A few of them even looked vaguely familiar, which was disconcerting. “I am Headmaster Burns, the sixty-second headmaster since Libra Academy’s founding in 1788. You will meet the rest of the faculty once you have been divided into your teams.”

  Expectancy filled the air, students shifting silently with anticipation. Will exchanged an expectant look with Sura, and Apolline crossed her arms over her chest, her chin in the air.

  Sura shifted next to me, and I breathed in another lungful of peppery-vanilla cologne. Maybe it was some of that weird pheromone cologne that was supposed to be like a human mating call. Whatever it was, it was working on me a little too well for comfort.

  “Ready, beautiful?” he whispered as Headmaster Burns untied a red ribbon from around a scroll.

  “Who do you stand for, Sura?” I asked in a return whisper, even though I already knew the answer. He leaned in close, his lips almost touching my ear. A shiver ran down my spine.

  “Always Tenebris. Maybe you should try it on for size.”

  “Fat chance.”

  Headmaster Burns unrolled the scroll and cleared his throat. “The prefect for Lux is… Aislin Liddell.”

  A round of polite applause sounded through the hall and a pretty dark-haired girl, tan and lithe with muscle, stepped forward to accept a golden pin. She took up a place at his right hand and beamed as several students, obviously her friends, clapped and cheered.

  “The students appointed to stand for Lux are… Juno Endelyn. Silas Vaughan. Lara Dumont. Ethan Shaw. Caleb Wright. Beatrice Glover.” He read out ten names, and I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath in anticipation until he reached the end of the list and I realized my name hadn’t been spoken.

  The students chosen for Lux gathered behind Aislin, some reaching out to touch her shoulder or hand in congratulations.

  I was going to stand for darkness. A weighty stone of disappointment churned in my stomach, but it wasn’t the end of the world. Not by a long shot.

  Sura grinned down at me. “Looks like my wish comes true, beautiful.”

  Headmaster Burns cleared his throat again and silence fell. Even though we were clearly the remainders, it seemed to be a tradition that they read it out anyways. “The prefect for Tenebris is William Godalming.”

  My mouth fell open and I shut it with a snap. Will was the prefect for Tenebris?

  He hid my thongs in his father’s dresser, for fuck’s sake. They might as well have appointed a thirteen-year-old boy to the position.

  But Sura had released my arm to clap, along with the rest of Tenebris and most of Lux. Will accepted his gold pin without so much as a smile, standing stiffl
y at the Headmaster’s left hand.

  “The students appointed to stand for Tenebris are Sergio Enver. Apolline Moreau. Selena Feldt. Gilcrist Rigel. Victoria Holmwood. Joshua Ferdinand. Lydia Hurst. Pheric Grant…”

  I automatically moved when I heard my name, joining the herd of students clustered near Will. Something touched a lock of my dark hair and I jerked, then realized Sura had playfully tugged me. If anyone else had done it, I might’ve punched them, but a butterfly of anticipation fluttered in my stomach instead.

  “This concludes the division between light and dark. As the year progresses, you will internalize the concepts of Lux and Tenebris, the eternal balance of the scales, and the duality of purpose.” Headmaster Burns rolled up the scroll once more. “You may depart for your dormitories. Good evening, students.”

  Aislin Liddell led Lux to the back of the hall, where they vanished into the right-hand door.

  Will led us left.

  I found myself looking over a blonde girl’s shoulder, finding a long hallway with black walls, each white door labeled with a name. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the order listed, and I finally found my own name and a small key hanging on a hook beside the nameplate.

  Sandwiched right between Will and Sura.

  Bit suggestive, that.

  Will took his key from the hook as Apolline elbowed past a gangly redheaded guy and snagged the key from the room directly across from mine. Awesome.

  “Good night, Will,” I said, waving at him firmly, but he walked into his room and closed the door with a definitive snap, not sparing me a glance.

  “‘Night,” Sura’s smoky voice said behind me. “Unless you want help unpacking?”

  Apolline opened her door and looked over her shoulder at us. The last thing I needed was for Polly-Wanna-Cracker to see me invite a tall, dark, handsome stranger into my room, and possibly my pants.

  Which I had every intention of doing in the very near future, but tonight was not that night.

  “It’s one suitcase. Pretty sure I can handle it, thanks.”

  “I was talking more about unpacking your disdain for the dark side by giving you a taste of no-holds-barred hedonism, but you know where to find me when you’re ready.”

  When, not if.

  Holy shit, this guy had me pegged with a flaming arrow straight through my heart. And lady bits.

  Apolline scoffed and shut her door.

  “That’s… um… a very generous offer.” What the fuck did someone say to that? They didn’t make slayers like this back home. Sura raised a dark eyebrow and tilted my chin up with one finger.

  I couldn’t believe I was letting a guy tilt my chin up like I was in some sappy rom-com and we were about to make out in the rain, but here I was, in danger of one foot springing into the air.

  “There is nothing generous about what I’m going to do to you.” His smoky voice was rough and thick, a low growl hidden just under his words and black eyes smoldering.

  Every muscle in my body went taut, nipples hard as diamonds. I could put Tiffany’s to shame with the front of my shirt right now.

  I was not here to get turned on in the hallway on my first night in a prestigious academy.

  “As unbearably sexy as you make that sound, I’m going to have to listen to the voice of reason and turn it down. I’m here for an education in slaying, not hedonism.” I jerked away from his hand and unlocked my door. “‘Night, Sura.”

  “If you say so, beautiful,” he purred, all six and a half feet of pure brawn leaning on the door frame. “Just remember- for you, my door is always open.”

  It took a lot of effort to close that door in his face, but by God I did it. And was immediately full of regret.

  Did Fae electronics-frying abilities extend to vibrators?

  CHAPTER TWO

  ________

  TORI

  Seniors in Libra Academy got their own rooms, thank God. Mine was simple, but it beat the cramped trailer Mom and I had been living in for the last three years by a long shot.

  On the other hand, anything might’ve been better than the trailer, mostly because the reek of its previous moonspawn occupants made the whole thing smell like wet dog.

  I had a queen-sized bed, a long dresser, a desk. A bookshelf in the corner was already stocked with the classics: Matsuyo’s Black Moon Trials, Pembroke’s Handy Guide to Eternal Damnation, and Dai Diyadin’s complete bestiary and encyclopedia series.

  The walls were light gray, and a soft charcoal rug covered the floorboards. Basic, spare, but everything I could’ve asked for. And ten times more comfortable than the Godalming mansion, where I was pretty sure even the household appliances were gold-plated.

  I rolled my suitcase to the end of the bed and threw open the two doors at the back of the room. One led to a small closet, and the other opened on a private bathroom with a walk-in shower.

  With a sigh of relief, I unpacked, hanging up my clothes next to several sets of uniforms that had already been tailored to my measurements that summer. The Libra uniform was more function than fashion: crisp white shirts with a black tie, black pants with just enough stretch for a fight but not so thin they’d shred against asphalt, and a black leather jacket imbued against ichor and fangs.

  That was one point in their favor. After walking into a roomful of Prada and diamonds, I’d half-expected the uniform to be some dinky little schoolgirl skirt and heels. That might’ve been enough to make me reconsider sticking around.

  The last object out of my suitcase was a photograph, the silver frame touched with lampblack at the edges, the upper right corner of the photo bubbled and curled.

  But the subject of the image was untouched by the fire: me and James, sitting on the back porch of our house with our arms wrapped around each other, grinning at the camera. We’d been so happy, completely unaware that six months later that house would be a pile of charred rubble, and James would be dead. I didn’t remember grabbing the photo as Mom pulled me from the roaring structure fire, but it was the only thing that had survived the inferno.

  I touched the glass over James’ face. We weren’t twins, but we looked alike: both of us had Father’s thick dark hair and amber eyes, and Mom’s high cheekbones and pointed chin.

  I set the photo on my nightstand, angling it so I would wake up every morning and see James smiling at me.

  “I’m here, Jim-Jam,” I said, sitting down and sinking into the mattress. “At Libra, where you always wanted to be.”

  For a moment my throat swelled tight, so painful it was impossible to draw a breath.

  “I know I was never really all that great at schoolwork, but I’m going to buckle down on this and get our name on these walls. Even though our new stepbrother hates me, and I’m pretty sure his ex-girlfriend does, too.”

  James just smiled back at me.

  “But Sura seems okay. So maybe it won’t be all that bad.” The knot in my throat started to loosen a little. “Surprised he’s friends with Will, though. I’m trying so hard to just get along with him- he doesn’t need to like me, but a little less hostility would be nice.”

  If honey doesn’t capture the flies, set those fuckers on fire instead, James would’ve said.

  “I can’t set my stepbrother on fire, James. Seriously, what kind of advice is that?”

  I glanced at the opposite wall. Will would be putting his own belongings away on the other side, probably still bitter that his obnoxious stepsister just had to tag along-

  Something hit the wall with a heavy thud. I leaped off the bed, every muscle in my body coiled tight and a knife in my palm within a second.

  Another thud, and another. My heart pounded in my throat.

  I reached for the doorknob, my brain automatically flicking through the potential complications- what sort of creature could infiltrate Libra? A greater demon? The Fae? - when a loud moan cut through the thuds.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  My desk was rattling from the thuds a
s Will fucked whoever was screaming like a goddamn banshee on the other side of the wall. Libra was supposed to be a classy place; they couldn’t have made the walls out of something thicker than toilet paper?

  “It sounds like attempted murder than a good time,” I muttered.

  Even though the girl’s screams and moans were ridiculous, verging on operatic, I could picture Will’s broad shoulders, the ripples and valleys of his chest and stomach, the lean muscles of his legs, all too clearly. He’d spent enough time showing them off poolside and in the training room this summer after the wedding, much to my dismay.

  The thuds slowed down, and suddenly the sound of a mattress squeaking joined the Symphony of Sex I Wasn’t Having.

  I banged on the wall once, hoping he’d get the hint, but the squeaks only grew faster.

  “Fuck this,” I muttered. I grabbed my pajamas and toiletry bag and headed for the bathroom.

  The rush of steaming-hot water drowned out the sound of Will’s mattress and the Orgasm Banshee. I breathed out a sigh of relief, squirted my favorite coconut shampoo in my palm and slapped it in my hair, and-

  A deep, satisfied groan emanated from the other side of the tiled shower wall.

  “There is absolutely no way,” I whispered.

  I slowly scrubbed the shampoo in my hair, praying to every deity known to mankind that it was just the groan of a pipe, but another strained, low, and all-too-masculine sound made it very clear that it wasn’t.

  Whatever, or whoever, Sura was doing, the sounds he was making sent jolts through every nerve ending in my body. He would be in his own shower, the water beading on his dark skin, rolling off his brawny shoulders and torso like pearls…

  I couldn’t do this. I ducked my head back under the water, rinsed myself clean and practically bolted out of the shower.

  With the water turned off on my side, Sura’s low groans and hitches of breath were even clearer, even over the rush of the water next door.

  I wrung out my dripping hair over the shower tile and paused against my better judgment, my heart in my throat and every inch of skin feeling tight.