“YouTube. you can watch stuff in slow motion,” I said softly.
Timothy was still chuckling. He twirled his finger in a circle. “And the first flip move?”
“Umm…” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Natasha Romanov, Captain America: Civil War, the plane tarmac scene.”
Jackson bent over, resting his hands on his knees. He hung his head and laughed with total abandon. He tried to say something, but he was laughing too hard.
I bit my lip and looked around. Everyone was laughing, but it didn’t feel directed at me. I frowned and turned to my professors. “Was that wrong?”
“Wrong?” Hewitt shook his head. “Girl, that was all kinds of right.”
“I mean, you still died. Technically.” Timothy shrugged, but he was still grinning. “But that was amazing. Jackson might not ever recover from that.”
The door on the side wall flew open. Constance and Kenneth walked into the training center. Constance’s blue eyes were dark and tense. Kenneth’s long silver hair was pulled back tight off his face, and his eyes were sharp. A muscle in his jaw popped.
Constance glanced around the crowd then turned her gaze toward our other Coven Leader. “Timothy…”
Timothy visibly paled. “What is it?”
“Kessler just called.” Constance sighed. “We’re needed back there. Now.”
I looked back and forth between our Coven Leaders, who’d both gone still. They seemed to be communicating by look. All the laughter in the room vanished when that reality check had walked itself into the room. Samhain was two weeks away, and apparently the High Priestess was going darker and darker. Headmaster Daniel walked over to his wife, and soulmate, and took her hand.
Timothy nodded then handed the clipboard to Hewitt. “Continue with midterms. I doubt I’ll be back before Samhain.”
Chapter Thirty-One
BETTINA
It was a week after midterms, and I felt like a new person.
Apparently dropping Black Widow-like fight moves on the resident badass made me a popular person. My fellow Swords finally saw me as an equal and not the black sheep of the Suit. Warner and Trey openly helped me in training, showing me new moves and helping finesse the ones I’d already learned.
Genevieve and Erin were my friends now. They practiced with me, ate lunch with me, helped me with other class homework…and it was genuine. They kept apologizing for being mean at first. Part of me wanted to give them a taste of their own medicine, but the bigger part of me wanted to be friends with them. Besides, I’d been judging them pretty hardcore, too, as it turned out. Lennox loved having three Swords girls for friends. She said we were like private bodyguards. She also said when she became Lead Page, she’d hire us to be her Knights.
All around, everything was going a little bit better. I still needed work on my fighting skills, and my magic was still suppressed, but things were looking up.
Jackson still called me princess…and I didn’t want him to stop. Though I wasn’t exactly sure where we stood. He still snapped at me. The glaring and eye rolling hadn’t changed. But on Monday, he kept chuckling about me learning moves from a Marvel movie on YouTube. Tuesday and Wednesday, I got two smiles each. On Thursday, he smiled at me four times. Friday, it was seven, and I got a wink.
Not that I liked him, like liked him liked him. Because I didn’t.
“Yo, Nox,” Genevieve yelled and knocked on the bathroom door. “How’s he doin’?
Genevieve, Erin, Lennox, and I were all in Dean’s dorm getting ready for the Halloween dance—that started forty-five minutes ago. We’d decided to do a group costume, then convinced Dean to be in it with us because we needed a fifth person to be the Spice Girls. Dean was a goofy dude, so it didn’t take too much to convince him. No magic was used, either.
“Ninety seconds!” Lennox shouted through the closed door.
Gen nodded and checked her costume in the mirror. She had on bright blue Adidas track pants, an orange sports bra, and white Adidas sneakers. She made the sportiest Sporty Spice I’d ever seen. Erin insisted on being Ginger Spice, said it would be an honor as a redhead. And she was rocking a microscopic dress with the British flag on the front.
Erin eyed me through her reflection. “You ready, Baby?”
I grinned and walked up next to my new friends. Baby Spice had seemed an appropriate role for me, and I was loving my costume, pigtails and all. Sure, the light pink mini dress was shorter than anything I’d ever worn besides a bikini. The top was cut low across my chest, showing off far more cleavage than I’d ever displayed. I told myself this wasn’t to get Jackson’s attention. Because it wasn’t.
The bathroom door opened, and the three of us spun, anxious to see Dean’s costume. Except Lennox came out alone and shut the door. She looked incredible with the iconic two horns that Scary Spice liked to wear. Not to mention the head-to-toe leopard print ensemble, complete with thigh-high, heeled boots, bra top, and booty shorts. Somehow all her tattoos just added to the look.
She grinned. “Just you wait…”
A few seconds later, the door reopened…and then Dean leaned in the doorway.
We gasped. Aside from the muscular arms, and sharp jaw, Posh Spice never looked so good. He had on a chin-length dark wig, a little black dress, and a pair of black kitten heels with straps that wrapped halfway up his calves. There was a beat of silence, and then we all applauded and bowed.
“First of all,” Dean said and waved his finger in the air, “I look amazing. Secondly, you owe me for this. Now, let’s party before I come to my senses.”
He winked, then turned and led the way to the door as we followed behind him laughing. I still couldn’t believe he was going along with it, and I adored him for it. Dean was quickly becoming one of my favorite people. I might not have had Tegan, or even be able to call her, but my new friends were pretty great. And if anyone would’ve appreciated what was happening tonight, it was my best friend.
Last year, we’d gone as Britney Spears and Kevin Federline.
The good part about being late was that no one was outside to see us walking over and get my nerves going. The bad part about being late was the second we pushed through the double doors and entered the dance, everyone turned to look at us.
There was a beat of silence over the crowd as music pumped in the background.
Dean threw up two peace signs and yelled, “GIRL POWER!”
The entire dance went nuts, cheering and applauding.
Lennox pulled her wand out of her boot and pointed toward the speakers up at the front of the massive room. The song playing cut off, and then we heard, “Yo, I’ll tell you what I want. What I really, really want!”
Lennox charged into the middle of the dance floor. Making a scene was so not my style, but with my group, I somehow forgot to be embarrassed as I danced my way onto the dance floor after Scary Spice. There had to be a hundred people out there around us, dancing and laughing. For a moment, we were the Spice Girls, singing our hearts out. Dean was a total hit. Of course, it helped that he happened to be one of the popular guys on campus so he could do no wrong.
A massive disco ball hung low from the ceiling, sending rays of neon lights across the entire room. I had to hand it to witches—they knew how to decorate for Halloween. The walls and ceiling were covered in skeletons. Torches lined the walls, their flames flickering. In the center of the dance floor was a giant black cauldron with smoke billowing out the top of it. And the costumes. Everyone was dressed up. Back home, there was always a huge amount of people not participating, but not in Edenburg.
When the song changed, the crowd around us dissipated a bit, and then a guy decked out in a full Batman suit rushed up to us. He was completely hidden in his costume so I didn’t recognize him until he yelled, “Holy hell, this is great! I don’t even know which of you to talk about first. I mean Gen, this has to be your favorite costume ever!”
Gen threw her head back and laughed. “Hey, this is also the most in costume I’ve ev
er been, Trey!”
“Seriously?” Warner yelled. “You’re not going to talk about Dean first?”
I spun to agree with him, but then my jaw dropped. Warner looked incredible, and an eerie amount like Jason Momoa’s Aquaman. He had the long hair going, and his skin was naturally dark enough. But then he’d covered his body in those scale-like tattoos. He looked ridiculously hot.
I blinked and shook my head. “I like your costumes, guys!”
Someone scoffed directly behind me, and my pulse kicked into hyper speed.
I turned and choked on a gasp. Jackson. I’d known it was going to be him, but damn was I not prepared for what I saw. He was dressed as Clark Kent in the process of stripping into his Superman gear. His white button-down shirt was tucked into gray slacks, but the shirt was mostly unbuttoned to reveal the iconic yellow and red S on a blue shirt. And he looked way too cute with thick black-rimmed glasses on.
But he didn’t look at me. He was pointing to Erin and smiling. “If only my grandfather were here to see you wearing his country’s flag as a dress,” he said in his perfect British accent.
Erin struck a sultry pose and winked. “Bring me home for a visit, and I promise I’ll wear this!”
Jackson chuckled and shook his head. The rest of our group broke into a debate over whose costume was the best…but I couldn’t keep my eyes off Jackson. His face was shaved and clean again, and I realized I liked both looks equally. It didn’t appear Jackson Lancaster had an ugly day. His hair was a little disheveled tonight, and I wanted to run my fingers through the longer strands on top.
And then he turned and met my stare. Those aquamarine eyes sparkled with mischief, a look I’d yet to see on his beautiful face. My body lit on fire, and my heart fluttered. I licked my lips, and his eyes tracked the movement. One of his eyebrows arched. Then his gaze slid down my body, slowly tracing every inch of my legs. My chest tightened and burned. With him looking at me like that, I wasn’t sure my brain remembered to make me breathe.
As his eyes traveled back up my body, his lips curved into a sexy little smirk. The song changed to a slow tune, and he glanced around. When his gaze found mine again, it was hot and intense.
He stepped closer and said in a soft voice, “Would you like to dance?”
I nodded but I didn’t trust myself to speak. Which was good, because when he stepped up close to me and put one hand on my waist, I almost squealed. His long fingers gripped my side and pulled me flush against his chest. He was only two inches taller than me, so my lips were just below his chin. All he’d have to do is tilt his face slightly and— Oh god. OH no. I was just thinking about kissing him, and how easy it would be. Oh no. No, no, no, no. Bad, bad. No.
But as he reached down with his free hand and tangled his fingers with mine, all of the fight left in me died. I liked him. I liked him a lot. There was no point in denying it any longer. I was done for. The feel of our hands touching, bare skin together, burned my entire body like a furnace. The heat radiating off of his body was enough to light a match. I pressed myself closer, barely containing the desire to bury my face in his chest.
I knew there were hundreds of people around us, but with his eyes only inches from mine, everything else disappeared. I wasn’t even sure if we were dancing or just standing there staring at each other. It didn’t matter. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to feel his lips on mine. I wanted to lose myself in him and stay there. I dragged my teeth over my bottom lip. He groaned, and I could’ve sworn I heard him curse under his breath. He licked his lips and leaned forward, and the tips of our noses brushed.
And then he was gone. Cold air slammed into me. I moaned at the loss of him. When I looked up, he was only a foot away from me. But then I took a step forward, and his eyes widened. He jumped back, shook his head, then spun and hightailed it out of there…leaving me in the middle of the dance floor gasping for air in his wake.
Chapter Thirty-Two
BETTINA
Two hours later, I was torn between wanting to crawl into a hole and cry…or punching Jackson in his pretty face.
At first when he’d abandoned me on the dance floor, I’d been mortified and furious, but then I’d decided not to let him ruin my night. I’d told myself I was there with my four friends and we looked great in our group costume. I’d deserved to have fun. I’d told myself it didn’t matter; he didn’t matter. And then he went and spent the entire dance talking and dancing with every other girl in the school. I didn’t want to care. I didn’t like the rage boiling inside me when I saw him with another girl, or the sharp chest pains that came with it. I didn’t want to feel like this.
Except something happened inside me during that dance. All of the fight I had left to resist him, to deny the way I felt about him… That was all gone now. Despite the whiplash and his snappy attitude, despite my best efforts, I liked him.
I have a crush on Jackson Lancaster. I wasn’t even sure if crush was the right word, but I refused to give him any more than that.
I walked up to the bathroom mirror and tried to rein in the chaos inside me. My eyes were wide and sparkling a little too bright for my own liking. My cheeks were flushed and my lips were puffy and red from biting them.
I pointed at myself. “Pull yourself together. He’s just a dumb boy. You can beat this.”
The pep talk gave me the strength to hold my head up high and march back out to the dance to join my friends. Erin was on the dance floor, bumping and grinding with Trey and Warner. Lennox and Gen were on the far wall talking to Harlan. All three of them wore excited expressions, and their hands waved around as they talked. Knowing them, they were “talking shop.” I sighed. I wasn’t in the mood to talk witchcraft, and I definitely wasn’t feeling up to dancing with other guys. Where’s Dean?
A quick glance around the room turned up empty, though I didn’t see Jackson either. I walked over to the tables we’d been sitting at before as a group. And then there he was, lounging in a chair with one foot propped up and his arms stretched out on the chairs beside him.
My feet glued to the ground. He brushed his thumb over his bottom lip, and butterflies bounced around my stomach. My heart caught in my throat. That red rose tattoo pointed right at what I wanted. I should’ve just kissed him when I’d had the chance.
Now he sat surrounded by a handful of scantily clad females, all fighting for his attention. A fire I’d never felt raged to the surface, turning my body into a volcano waiting to blow. I knew I had no right to be mad or jealous. It was only one dance, but I was at my wit’s end with him. For six weeks, he’d tortured me with the glares and the looks, the snide comments. Then the niceness, the smiles, and compliments. I was fed up. I couldn’t do it anymore. He’d gotten to me, and he damn well knew it. All of my rational thoughts flew out the window.
“Jackson, there you are!” Some girl giggled and pushed by me. I didn’t know who she was, and the black leotard and bunny ears did nothing to help that. She bounced over on stupidly high stiletto heels and dropped into the chair next to him, brushing her fishnet-covered legs against his. With a giggle, she flipped her brown hair over her shoulder and leaned into him. “What are you doing lurking in the shadows?”
“Protecting his delicate reputation. After all, asshole doesn’t come easy,” I snapped. My voice was low and cold despite the fire in my veins. “Or maybe he’s just a coward.”
His eyes flashed bright as they widened. He sat up straight. “Excuse me?”
I grabbed my little purse off the table in between us. “Did I stutter?”
Then I spun and all but sprinted for the door. I wanted to run, to flee as fast as I could, but I didn’t want him to see how much he’d gotten to me. I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of the whole school. I just wanted out. I needed the fresh, chilly autumn air to cool off the heat inside me. Just a few minutes alone to gather myself, then I’d come back and stick to Lennox’s side.
I pushed the doors open and rushed down the sidewalk. The temperature outside h
ad dropped since we’d gone in, and it couldn’t have been more than forty degrees. But I welcomed every prick of coldness on my bare skin. My pulse was racing and my hands were balled in fists at my side. I had no idea where I was headed, but I just needed to move. I turned the corner, and something hot wrapped around my wrist, yanking me to a stop.
I gasped and spun only to find it was Jackson.
“What the bloody hell is your problem?”
I smacked his hand away then pushed him back. “YOU.”
His eyes flashed and he snarled. “Because I had the audacity to dance with you? Fine, I won’t make that mistake twice.”
“Good!” I stepped toward him. “Make up your damn mind already! Asshole or nice guy. You can’t be both, Lancelot, and I’m sick of walking on eggshells around you. I’ve put up with your shit for six weeks and I’m done. Decide who you’re gonna be, then let me know.”
“FINE!” He reached forward and grabbed me by the back of the head, then dragged my mouth to his.
Our lips crashed together in frenzy. He cupped my jaw with both hands and kissed me like both our lives depended on it. I sighed and let myself go. All of that anger and frustration, all the confusion—I threw it aside and gave in to the passion between us. I fisted his shirt and yanked him closer. He groaned and pushed into me until my back slammed into the brick wall.
I pulled tighter, needing him closer. He fisted one of my pigtails and tipped my head back to deepen our kiss. Everything else in the world melted away. All I knew was him and this fire burning between us. As his tongue brushed against mine, my legs gave out. He caught me by the waist and pressed me harder against the wall with his body. His hands were hot and digging into my hips. I slid my hands up and gripped his face, pulling him closer as our lips collided together. The heat coming off of his body burned deep down into my bones.
And then he was gone.
A wall of ice-cold air blasted into me. I gasped and stumbled against the wall. My vision turned black at the edges. I blinked and looked around then found him several feet away. “What… Why…don’t…” My brain hadn’t kicked back into gear yet.
The Coven - Academy Magic Complete Series Page 17