by Lucy Auburn
“Wait. Not this. There are a fuckload of other things I want to destroy,” he says, voice rough. “If we keep doing this we’ll see a lot of stuff burn unnecessarily. Let’s spare the foundation of whatever this is between the five of us.”
I frown up at him, eyebrows pressing together, slowly easing back onto my heels. “But you want this. You don’t care about the consequences.”
“You do.” He licks his lips and pulls his hand away from my hip. “And you’ll damn well remember that the next time you see Ezra. So before we cross that line... just consider what will be broken if we do. I may like seeing things burn, Dani, but I don’t intend to throw you on the fire.”
I blink at him. “Alright.” Then, searching for something to change the subject, a way to ease out of the wild beating of my heart and the desperate desire to taste him again, I decide to offer up another activity. “We can blow a hole in the middle of the picnic table.”
He grins, all white teeth and brown skin painted golden by the setting sun, and we’re back to square one just like that.
“There’s the spirit, little firecracker. Think you can snap those fingers and make a flame?”
“Fuck yeah I can.”
If it feeds the restless spirit inside me, I’ll burn this whole campus to the ground.
Chapter 15
By the time I make it back to my room after dinner, I’m tired, full of contradictory emotions, and thoroughly stuffed by the two cheeseburgers I ate (much to Olivia’s open-mouthed chagrin; she even stuck around after finishing her salad just to “watch the show.”) I spare a moment to change my sheets—dark red, phoenix-branded, of course—then sink onto the mattress, fingers running through my hair. Pulling a piece of it in front of me, I stare at the fading teal at the ends, a reminder of the stupid free haircut and style I got from some punk-wannabe kid getting her cosmetology license.
The faded yellowish color of it doesn’t suit me anymore. I want something different, something that reflects the fact that I literally died and was reborn.
An idea percolates through my head, something spontaneous that would no doubt get Mateo’s full approval. But I’ll need help. Jumping to my feet, I head out into the hallway and cross my fingers that she’s in her room this evening, not on baby-phoenix-watching duty or studying in the library.
Petra answers the door almost as soon as I knock, thankfully, her pinkish blonde hair in a short ponytail at the back of her head, looking up at me from her diminutive height—and still managing to intimidate me despite how cute she is. “What is it? Not another campus invasion, I hope. I wanted to get through at least a week of classes uninterrupted.”
“Nothing like that.” I chew the inside of my cheek, suddenly nervous. “Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
“Well, you already have, so you might as well spit it out.” She crosses her arms and raises a nearly-invisible blonde eyebrow. “And don’t tell me that you’re hungry. I heard about the two cheeseburgers.”
I grin. “Those were delicious. But no, it’s not that—there’s something else. I wanna dye my hair.”
“Blue fading away? I don’t have any weird die.” She pulls the end of her pinkish blonde ponytail in front of her face and frowns at it. “This was a neon pink, but I haven’t had the chance to get the weird colors in ages.”
“But you do have some kind of hair dye, right?”
“I do.” She nods. “And I have all the supplies: gloves, a mixing bowl, plenty of ruined towels, and a sink big enough to do it in. So I can help you dye it, if that’s what you need help with. What color were you thinking?”
“What other color?” I can already see how the end result is gonna look, and I’m excited just at the thought of it. “Black, of course.”
Wednesday, 1:00 PM: Introduction to Hand-to-Hand Combat with Laura McKinley
It turns out that paranormal classes are a lot better when you just accept that you’re different and lean into it.
Especially when you’ve got the ability to see where your opponents will make their next move and counter it before they even begin to strike.
“That’s it, Dani!” I’ve never heard such approval in McKinley’s normally staid voice before, and it’s enough to make it giddy. “Jacob, work on your projection. You’re clearly letting Dani know your next move before you make it. Those kind of mistakes will kill you in the field.”
My opponent groans as he pushes himself up off the mat, looking thoroughly beaten. “Yes ma’am.”
“Take five!”
I stifle my grin as I head over to the water cooler to grab a drink. It feels like I’m walking on clouds, which is ironic considering the fact that according to Meyer I’m literally losing my life force bit by bit. We have an appointment after my classes today to discuss how his research is going, but to be honest, I find myself hoping he hasn’t gotten a solution this quickly. I just barely got Ezra to agree we should embrace the time we had left, and managed to pry some information about their lives from Sebastian, not to mention the evening I had with Mateo or the books I had him bring back to that nowhere place for Lynx. When I say goodbye to them, I want to do it without regrets.
And I still need to find out if any of the books Meyer checked out of the library might help me figure out how to find the demons again after we say goodbye and sever our ill-fated connection forever.
As I sip at my water, leaning up against the far wall of the classroom, Sam approaches and whistles low. “Nice hair, Dani. I like the new look.”
“Thanks.” I run my hands through it self-consciously; it took ages to wash all the black dye out, but once it was done my hair was one color again. “Petra helped, though she nearly yanked half the hair off my head doing it.”
“Not gentle, that one.” He leans up against the wall next to me, his crossed arms brushing up against me. “Have any dinner plans?”
“Other than stuffing my face with literally anything I can get? No, not really. It’s not like I plan on going out.” I snort at the thought. “There be murderers out there, and all.”
“There are ways to liven up the Phoenix Academy dining hall experience.” Sam shoots me a grin. “If you’re up for it, I may know just the swanky kinda place where you can get a wine pairing to go with your endless buffet.”
I could use a glass of something stronger than orange juice or water, especially given all that’s happening. “Oh? Tell me more.”
“Come to the back stairs at the top floor of the Great House, seven o’clock.”
I groan. “You expect me to wait that long for dinner?”
He winks at me. “A good thing takes time to prepare.”
“Alright, fine. But if I show up hangry you’re to blame.”
“As long as you show up, I’m golden.”
It’s only as McKinley calls us back to the mats and pairs us up with our next sparring partner that I realize what I’ve done.
I just agreed to a date.
Ah, fuck.
By the time classes are over I’m a nervous bundle. I didn’t manage to catch Sam and clarify things before combat class was over, and in Pixie Resistance I actually found myself getting lulled into a stupor by the song—much to my mortification. Shifter History was, as always, little more than a breakdown of all the myths and legends that have surrounded shifters in countries across this globe, which basically amount to: humans are stupid, they see things they can’t explain, and they turn paranormal creatures into gods and folklore, passing tales down through the generations without ever understanding them.
Also, ancient Egyptians were really into cats for some reason, probably because of a prominent shifter in the region who sired an absurd number of cat shifter kids who used their abilities to eavesdrop on political machinations and whisper them into the ears of their masters.
Lynx would’ve found it fascinating, but I was too close to falling asleep the whole lecture to summon the demons even accidentally. Now as I head to Meyer’s office for our meeting, I find mys
elf cracking a yawn more than once, even as I try to figure out what I’ll tell Sam when I arrive at our not-a-date to let him down easy.
Because that’s what I’ll do, right?
I don’t want to date him, I want...
“Dani.” Meyer is waiting for me when I get to the bottom of the stairs, and he ushers me towards the open door of his office. “I’ve got exciting news.”
My heart plummets, but I force myself to look interested. “You figured something out from that old journal of that William dude?”
“Wilhelm, and not quite, but I’m almost there. Let’s talk.”
He shuts the door behind me as I walk into the office and take a look around. It’s more well-decorated than it was the last time I came here, though it’s still sparse and impersonal. There’s a small collection of black leather-bound books on the bookshelf behind his desk—no doubt the same ones I was looking for in the library yesterday, tantalizingly out of reach.
Meyer notices where I’m looking. “We’ll be doing some studying at our next class, and I’ll send you home with a few passages to study. I just have to pick the right ones.” He jokingly adds, “After all, I can’t expect you to read every book about Grims and our powers. There’s not enough time in the universe.”
There’s no response I can give to that; after all, I doubt he would like me admitting that I want to research a way to see the demons again after they’re gone, given how he’s reacted to our bond existing in the first place. But that doesn’t change the way I feel about the books being kept from me.
Maybe Lynx is rubbing off on me. I’ve never wanted to read something this bad before. Then again, I’ve never been a mythological creature that comes back from the dead, or attended an academy for supernatural students.
“Alright, so tell me what it is you discovered.” I sit down on the chair opposite his desk, perched nervously on the edge. “What exactly is, I guess, wrong with me? Why can’t I get rid of the bond—is it just because I’m an amateur? Do I need to study or something and I’ll get it right?”
He holds up a hand to forestall further questions, and I realize belatedly how anxious I’m starting to feel. Any second now...
“I guess you can still summon all four of us.” Ezra’s voice, and overlapping with it Meyer says, “It’s not your fault, Dani. You can’t sever the bond; I believe only someone other than you can do it.”
I blink at Meyer, ignoring the prickling feeling between my shoulder blades that indicates four sets of eyes are staring at me. I wonder if Mateo told them about our kiss, or if he kept it to himself. I can still smell the acrid air that followed our little explosion, can feel the way the hairs on my arms raised up as adrenaline coursed through me.
Forcing my mind back on track, I ask Meyer, “Why would that be the case? I’m the one who summoned them, after all.”
“But you aren’t.” He leans forward, looking excited. “One of the things I discovered in my research is that phoenix who are already paranormals before their activation become completely different magical creatures, in the eyes of magical laws. The powers they were born with change. Ifrits have stronger fire, but they need exposure to sun to access their abilities once they become Red Phoenix. White Phoenix aren’t like other Risen—they can heal after major injuries, but they’re unable to access the memories and knowledge of the necromancer who Raised them.”
“So what are you saying?”
Lynx murmurs, “This is fascinating.”
Meyer explains, “The person you were when you summoned the demons was a Grim, but when you died that changed. That’s what caused the soul bond, and in theory you would be able to dissolve it—but you’re not a Grim anymore. I believe, or I’m at least theorizing, that dissolving the pre-existing bond isn’t one of your powers anymore, because it’s a form of ordered magic. So in order to prevent the soul bond from draining your powers and killing you, a Grim will have to perform the spell to sever it.”
“Oh.” My heart plummets into my stomach. “So I guess you’re wanting to do that now.”
There’s a murmur from behind me, and I get the sense that the demons are conferring, but I don’t dare look; I’m too afraid that I’ll see joy on their faces at the news that they’ll be going home. I can’t bear to think of it.
“Unfortunately,” Meyer says, sighing deeply, “severing another Grim’s bond is harder than you might think. I was afraid it might come to this, so I’ve been doing research into that, though I’m not quite done. It’ll take a great deal of power to sever a bond between a Black Phoenix and a quartet, if my theory is correct. Since I’m the only Grim here, that means I’ll have to look for power in other ways. It may take days, even weeks, for me to prepare the spell and cast it correctly.”
Joy diffuses through me, though I do my best to hide it. I decide to play along as the concerned girl who doesn’t want four demon friends, and not the reckless fool who’s willing to risk her powers—and her life—to keep them around for just a bit longer.
“Can’t you just use a bunch of that black powder stuff you have?”
“That sort of thing is helpful for small spells that take a little extra power, like summoning or dismissing. The only reason why I was able to dismiss that siren from the other night was because she was being kept here with slave chains—ghastly stuff; they allow a demon to be passed from Grim to Grim, and kept on the mortal plane even when the Grim is asleep or unconscious.”
He grimaces, and I wonder just what exactly his life was like, that he became this sort of Grim and not the other kind. But his next words change my point of view. “It’s well and good to enslave an evil demon to the will of a righteous man, but to do it in such a lazy manner? There’s a reason why it takes a good deal of study to do advanced summoning spells. I hate cheats that make it easier for fools to come into power—although it was an advantage in our little fight.”
“So that Grim in the mask the other night... you don’t think he was very powerful?”
Meyer snorts. “Hardly. More likely than not he was an underling sent to fetch you for his clan leader, or a hired hand working in the free market. No powerful Grim is foolish enough to step foot on these grounds without a very good reason. Headmaster Towers is no slouch to make an enemy of, and they all know it.”
Remembering the one time she showed me just the barest hint of her flame, I find myself agreeing. That woman could melt through steel and walk into Hell itself without flinching. “I wonder if we’ll ever know who is really behind it.”
“Oh, I have some ideas.” His eyes flash. “But I know better than to keep you here for too long so close to dinner. I’ll update you again when I have some news. Until then, try to keep from summoning this quartet of yours, even accidentally—and make sure not to interact with them more than necessary. You wouldn’t want to get stuck with them forever.”
I nod and give him my best of-course-I-wouldn’t smile, even though I can’t stop thinking of Mateo’s kiss or Ezra’s words about the four of them having an agreement.
As I head out of the office, I meet their eyes, and my heart twists. Mateo raises a brow at me; Ezra looks almost as broodingly miserable as Sebastian usually does, and Lynx has the book I gave him in one hand, its form somehow incorporeal because of magic rules I don’t entirely understand.
If I were going to the dining hall, I’d keep them with me. But since I’m about to spend a couple hours in my room sweating an awkward conversation, I let out a breath and dismiss them with my mind, ignoring Mateo’s parting shout that he’s bored.
The last thing I need is for them to find out I accidentally agreed to a date with a boy.
Especially because I don’t even know what I should do about it.
Chapter 16
Sam could be good for me.
He’s sane, after all; as far as I can tell he doesn’t spend his free time building bombs or use his hands to strangle people to death. Besides being kind, he’s handsome, and I know that he’s brave—he helped sav
e me the night we met. I could do far worse than Sam; I’ve definitely met far worse than Sam.
So why does the thought of dating him make me feel like I’ve swallowed a fish and it’s flopping around in my stomach, making a mess of things?
Obviously there’s something wrong with me. Normal girls don’t get excited at the thought of lighting bombs in the woods with a demon who murders people, or dream of having four men in their bed at once.
While it’s true Sam would be an improvement for me, I’m pretty sure he’s better off staying far from everything I’ve got going on. So as I head towards the back stairs, wearing my old street clothes—it feels good to have that blazer gone and my pleated skirt stuffed in the bottom of my wardrobe—I resolve to let him down easy, for himself if not for me.
So imagine my surprise when I round the corner towards the back stairs and the first thing I see is Liam’s face.
Picking up my shock, he rubs the back of his neck and smiles at me sheepishly. “Sorry to spring this on you. But we figured it’d be better if we talked about it in person, and in private.”
I blink at him in confusion. “Talk about what?”
“C’mon.” He pushes the door open and motions towards the stairs, which leads to another open door, and beyond that the roof. “You’ll see when you get upstairs.”
Cautiously, I follow him up the stairs, wondering just what exactly is going on. A breeze blows through from the roof above, and I get a whiff of cologne coming off of Liam, which is when I notice that he’s dressed better than normal. He’s not in his academy uniform and not wearing his trademark hoodie; instead he’s got on a white polo and a pair of dark-washed jeans that look like they were pressed before he put them on.
There’s a gentle, glowing light coming from the roof. Someone has strung up little lights all around the flat, open area, draping them across the edge of the headmaster’s glass dome and stringing them across the doorway. There’s a table set up with three chairs, a tablecloth, and a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket.