Spell It Out for Me

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Spell It Out for Me Page 6

by Sarina Dorie


  “How did you know how to restore your affinity? You didn’t have a mentor.” I waited for him to tell me question time was over.

  “I did. I had your mother.”

  “She told you how to restore your affinity before she drained you?”

  He hesitated.

  “Honesty,” I prompted. “You said you would be more honest.”

  He nodded but remained silent a long moment. He placed his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. “That wasn’t the first time Alouette drained me.”

  What? This completely baffled me. I thought he hated her for draining him. For torturing him. But his affinity was pain, so maybe he didn’t mind that part.

  The confusion must have shown across my face.

  “It wasn’t like that,” he said. “She wasn’t abusive. Not at first. I voluntarily allowed her to drain me. It was for her experiments.”

  In her diary she had referred to Red Affinity One and Red Affinity Two, the conduits for electricity to build resistance in other Witchkin to touch magic so they could become fertile. I knew he’d participated in her experiments to explore the Fae Fertility Paradox, and I’d long suspected he was one of the conduits.

  “She never completely drained me, not to the point that she killed me and not to extent she did that last time,” Thatch said, confirming some of what I remembered from her journal. “I didn’t mind. I liked it. I liked doing it for her. It made me feel . . . close to her to share the experience with her. It was foolish, I know.” The gray of his eyes was heavy with rainclouds, sorrow playing across his face. “She didn’t share her affinity with me. Had she felt the same way about me, if she had chosen to reciprocate, I suppose that would have been true intimacy.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but it was too late. I’d already seen through the façade of apathy.

  At least, I suspected it was a façade.

  “You would have done anything for her.”

  He nodded.

  This moment didn’t feel real. He’d shared so much with me—himself—and information about my mother. I wondered if it was because I’d finally earned his trust. Then again, this wasn’t the first time he’d revealed supposed truths about his life to gain my sympathy—before manipulating me into doing something for him. I didn’t know if he was being sincere.

  Thatch straightened, his voice resuming its professional monotone. “Because we are making this our last session, I will add one element to this lesson that you will have to find a way to create in the future on your own.”

  “Okay.” Warily I waited for him to go on. Sex? An orgasm?

  “Pain.”

  “Oh.” I laughed nervously. Why was my mind always thinking of sex?

  “It’s imperative you practice pain control. It’s your greatest weakness.”

  “Yep. My kryptonite.”

  I glanced at the box of vises on his desk. Was that why he’d gotten out the torture equipment?

  He followed my gaze and chuckled. “No. Those are not for you. They are far too advanced. Also, they leave bruises.” He opened a drawer and placed them inside. “What I have in mind is much less painful.” He came around the desk again. He held out his hand. Reluctantly, I placed mine in his. Whatever was coming next, I knew I wasn’t going to like it.

  He rolled up my sleeve, his smile mischievous. He pinched my forearm. I jerked back, hitting my elbow against the metal armrest, which hurt even worse than the pinch.

  “Ow!” I said.

  “I should think that’s hardly anything compared to last night.”

  I rubbed my arm. “You know any kind of pain is my weakness.”

  “Which is why my last lesson with you is to assist you in toughening up, mentally and physically. I won’t pinch you harder than that. Not unless I think you’re doing well and you can handle more. And I promise the vises and needles will remain in my desk.”

  I nodded, feeling better at that.

  He guided me through a meditation. We started off with body awareness, similar to what I had done the previous night. When I focused on my core where my Red affinity dwelled, I found myself hollow and aching to be filled with magic. That crimson fire that had burned the night before was gone. Not even a spark remained. I had been so certain I would still have something after the previous night.

  Thatch’s voice came from nearby. “Ignore physical sensations, real or imaginary.”

  Imaginary meant he was going to use his fear magic on me. My fave. I went into psychic defensive mode, shielding my affinity from outside sources of stimulus, imagining armor under my skin that didn’t allow pain through.

  After a few more minutes of meditation, his office came into focus around me even though my eyes were closed. Thatch sat at the edge of his desk watching me. His eyes were vividly azure like Derrick’s eyes.

  Melancholy ate at my heart as I remembered how much I had loved Derrick, only to be betrayed by him when he’d murdered me. If it hadn’t been for Thatch resurrecting me, I would still be dead. I pushed away the misery of emotions threatening to overwhelm me and crack my defenses.

  Thatch’s hair remained shoulder-length waves, but the highlights shifted from indigo to cerulean. His hair became Derrick’s hair. He pinched my arm. I was ready for it. I blocked the pain.

  His eyes changed from blue to green. Vines crept across his skin, and his flesh turned to wood. It was Thatch’s face, but not. He was a green man, Julian in his Fae body. He pinched my arm. The awareness of pain prickled in my nerves, fighting to relay messages to my brain.

  My subconscious mixed Derrick’s face with Julian’s, but neither, nor the mashup phased me. I felt strong, in control. Thatch’s face returned to his own as he pinched my arm harder. His fingers sparkled with white and red. Trickles of magic streamed up his arm and into him as though he was draining me. I couldn’t tell if it was real or imaginary.

  When he leaned in closer, his face inches from mine, I couldn’t tell if that was real either. His lips brushed against mine, a ghost of a kiss filling me with yearning. His breath was warm on my face. I relished in the pleasure of it, finding myself leaning forward. His tongue tasted my lips. I wanted this. My affinity wanted this. My pelvis ached with need. The shield around my core cracked and fell away.

  I wanted to melt into a puddle and give in to the enjoyment of the moment.

  But I was here to learn magic.

  I reassembled my armor and resisted sensations, both good and bad. He drew away, the steely storm clouds of Thatch’s eyes searching my face. I couldn’t tell if his expression was hurt or disappointment or some mix of the two. He placed his palm under my hand and caressed my arm. It wasn’t sexual, but it was comforting, soothing. Like the kiss, I couldn’t tell if it was real or not.

  I opened my eyes, blinking at the light.

  My hand remained in Thatch’s. He hesitated as he stroked my arm before resuming the motion.

  I drew my hand away, uncertainty festering inside me. He had told me he was going to pinch me. He hadn’t said he was going to stroke my arm. How much of the meditation had been real versus illusion? Had he kissed me?

  Thatch folded his hands across one knee. “You’ve improved. This was your best lesson yet.”

  “You aren’t just saying that because it’s the last time you’re going to see me and you’re being nice.”

  “Have you ever known me to needlessly gratify your ego?” He shifted and took my other hand in his, rubbing his fingers against my forearm, finding the tender places. The pink welts on my skin where he’d pinched me melted away.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Ensuring you don’t acquire bruises later.” He smiled as though nothing unusual had transpired. “We don’t want you to go home to your mum like this. She’d think we beat you here at Womby’s.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I’m going home.” During my meditation I had forgotten. I’d been in the moment. The mention of going home burdened my s
oul with anguish.

  “Do you feel as though you have enough practice under your belt to do this exercise on your own?” he asked. “I know some of the meditations aren’t ideal without the chair to guide your subconscious, but you can still practice body awareness and pain control on your own.”

  I nodded and stood. “Thank you for all you’ve done for me as a teacher.” My eyes went wide as I realized my mistake. I’d just thanked him.

  He crossed his arms. “Apparently I haven’t taught you well enough.”

  “Sorry. I’m always forgetting.” I laughed nervously. This was the hardest rule of the Unseen Realm.

  He grinned. “You wouldn’t forget if I made you pay me with a favor like the Fae do.”

  “I might.”

  “Then for your own good, I will exact a price for your appreciation.” His eyes twinkled in amusement. He looked as mischievous as any Fae. “You will give me a hug goodbye.”

  He closed the space between us and tugged me into his arms. I wondered if this was still the fear chair, using my subconscious mind to test me. No, if it had been, his spine wouldn’t have been as rigid. He wouldn’t have been uncomfortable with the idea of physical touch. I wouldn’t have felt as awkward either. I placed my arms around him and gave him a quick squeeze before releasing him.

  His voice was thick with emotion. “You do realize, this isn’t a true goodbye, Miss Lawrence. We will see each other again.”

  I nodded. My throat tightened. I wanted to say something, but my eyes burned, and I feared if I even breathed I would start bawling.

  He smoothed my hair away from my face. He stooped lower. I hoped he wasn’t going to kiss me. I had wanted him to kiss me for so long, but I would hate him if he chose now of all times to do so when I had a boyfriend.

  He enunciated each word, his voice soft and calm. “You promised me we would be honest with each other.”

  I nodded. My heart thumped arrhythmically. I regretted agreeing to being honest earlier.

  “If you had to choose between Elric and . . . magic, which would it be?”

  “What do you mean?” The question caught me so off guard I flinched back. “I can have both. If I’m with Elric, I probably will have magic. I just have to do all the exercises like you showed me.”

  “True. You can probably have Elric and magic, though it’s dangerous if you do, because you can’t mask what you are. You just can’t have this school and Elric. You can’t stay at Womby’s, learn magic, keep all your friends and the students you’ve earned the love and respect of—and have your Fae lover at the same time. If you could have Womby’s and magic or Elric and no magic, which would it be?”

  I shook my head at him, afraid this was some kind of trick question. It felt like a game the Fae would play to entertain themselves.

  Thatch drummed his fingers against his desk. “I suspect Jeb’s biggest objection to Elric is that he is a powerful Fae prince of the Silver Court. If I speak to Jeb on your behalf and tell him that you place more value on your education—and the safety of your students—and you’re willing to break up with Elric, he might agree to keep you on. The true question is whether you would be willing to do it.”

  “I’m in love with Elric.” I was pretty sure I was in love with him. I stepped back from Thatch, bumping into the chair and nearly tripping.

  “Yes. So?” His eyes smoldered with desperation.

  “So I’m in love, and I’ve made a bargain binding me to him.” Considering I had suspected I was already falling in love when I agreed to pay him with my heart, I had thought I had outwitted Elric’s father. Continuing to stay in love was the difficulty. “I have to prove I love him in order to be free from the magical contract. It isn’t an option to give him up.”

  “It is. I created a bargain with Elric. I have seen to it that there is a loophole. You can get out of your bargain should you have need of it.” He stepped closer. His mouth was set in a grim line, his expression pensive. “I believe this would be the time to take advantage of it.”

  I edged back. “That’s what you said before, but you won’t tell me what your bargain is.”

  “I am magically bound to keep the details of my agreement with Elric secret.”

  “The ultimate nondisclosure agreement. How convenient.”

  “I am permitted to let you know that you don’t have to fulfill your obligation. If you trust me and do as I say, I can nullify your agreement with him. The first step to that is for you to help yourself. If you wish to stay at the school and continue to be a teacher—continue to learn magic—I will make it happen. But you have to agree to give up Elric.”

  I shook my head. “Why does everything come down to this? Why are you always trying to make me break up with him?”

  “Once he makes love to you, that will be it for you. You will be addicted to him and pine for him. It will consume you.” His voice rose like thunder just before lightning struck. “I’ve seen it happen to students. He might claim his body fluids are nontoxic, but he’s lying.”

  “Goodbye. Have a good life.” I turned and walked out of his office.

  He followed me into the torture room. “Tell me. Do you love Elric or do you love the idea of him? Do you only love that he can be the answer to your problems and solve your affinity for you? If it’s the former and you truly care for him, you will hurt him with your magic, and this will end in heartbreak. If it’s the latter, and you intend to use him, you should be aware there are easier ways to get what you want. I have given you one of those options. You can restore your magic on your own without him.”

  “I’m not using him!” I should have known Thatch had an ulterior motive for being friendly and obliging. His kindness came with a price. “Were you only helping me to prove a point?”

  “No. Not only to prove a point.”

  I was too furious to look at him. I stared in disgust at his torture equipment. “For a moment, I thought you had a soul.”

  “I do have a soul. Part of a soul.”

  “I don’t want your help.” I hurried through his classroom.

  “You don’t want it, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need it.”

  I stomped up the stairs to the main corridor and to my room. I did not need his help.

  Although, when I found a Fae prince asleep in my dorm room, I knew I would need someone’s help.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Goldilocks and the Three Witchkin

  My entire bedroom stank of hard liquor, like the times Vega came back from dancing. Only this time, instead of coming from her fringed flapper dresses in the laundry, it came from my boyfriend. Elric was passed out in Vega’s bed. He usually sparkled and shimmered like an unearthly being. Passed out with his clothes rumpled, he wasn’t quite as enchanting.

  I stared at him in wide-eyed shock. Hurriedly I closed the door behind me. If Jeb was outraged by the idea that I had a Fae boyfriend—one that kept breaking the wards on our school to see me—I could only imagine how thrilled he’d be to find him passed out drunk in my room.

  A room that was off-limits to men.

  Once I got past the shock of seeing Elric in my room, I wondered why he was in Vega’s bed. Maybe he had thought he was going to puke. I didn’t care if he vomited on her blankets.

  I shook Elric’s shoulder. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

  Elric stirred but didn’t answer. I grabbed a water bottle and poured it over his head.

  “Clarissa, love, nice to see you too,” he slurred.

  “What are you doing in my room?”

  He opened his eyes for a moment before closing them again. “Saving you from the evil principal.”

  “What do you mean? How?”

  He rolled over. I shook him again and repeated myself. He didn’t answer.

  The door opened, and Vega strode in. Not good.

  She halted in the doorway. “What the hell?”

  “I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical
explanation for this,” I said. “Close the door.”

  For once, Vega listened to me. “As if you aren’t already in enough trouble. Why would you let him sleep in here?”

  “I didn’t. I found him this way.”

  “Why my bed?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe because that thing in the corner is scary and no one wants to sleep next to it.” I gestured to the macabre dressing screen with the sharpened twigs of the cherry tree impaling small birds and insects, leaving blossoms of red where they intersected. Or it might have been the guillotine. Or maybe he just hadn’t been able to make it to my bed.

  She regarded him dispassionately. “More likely your hot boyfriend fell asleep in my bed because he wanted to seduce me.”

  Vega was gorgeous, but I doubted that. Elric made it clear he only had eyes for me.

  “Okay, we need a plan. Do you have any spells that counteract intoxication?”

  She snorted. “Do I ever! I don’t go clubbing without a little hair of a dog.” She retrieved a bottle from her nightstand. Floating in amber fluid were strands of what might actually have been dog hair. She fished one out, balancing it on the end of her finger. She opened his mouth and placed one under his tongue.

  We waited. Nothing happened.

  “Huh. Maybe it only works on Witchkin.” She shrugged.

  “What else do you have?”

  She removed her wand from her sleeve. She incanted a spell, waving the stick of twisted black wood. Golden light flickered from the wand, wafting toward him like errant snowflakes. They sizzled and dissipated as they neared his sleeping form. She chanted louder, more fiercely. Magic popped and crackled as she projected it at him.

  “Fucking Fae wards!” she said.

  A knock sounded on the door. Panic jolted through me.

  “Who’s there?” I asked.

  “Is that you, Miss Lawrence?” That was Jeb’s Western accent. “I was hopin’ to have a word with you.”

  I looked to Vega. He couldn’t find Elric there.

 

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