Clash (Academy of Unpredictable Magic Book 6)

by Sadie Moss

  On the day we head back to Griffin, it’s just me and Roman in the front seats. The car feels empty without the other three—without Asher sitting next to me or Cam singing along to the radio or Dmitri’s solid presence. But it gives me time to talk about something with Roman that I haven’t really had a chance to address until now.

  “I understand,” I tell him, repeating what I said right after the battle. “The… the craving. I get it. When I was in its grip, I didn’t think about anything else. I had no emotion, it was just hunger. And I wanted to serve that hunger, if that makes sense.”

  Roman nods, keeping his gaze on the road. I asked him to let me drive, but he said he didn’t want to die today, thanks.

  Sheesh. I went ninety miles an hour in a forty-five zone once and none of them let me forget it.

  “I wanted to say that I’m sorry,” I add. “I’m sorry about what happened to your family, and to you, but now that I’ve felt it—now that I know what it was like—you know it wasn’t your fault, right? I mean, I’m an adult and I barely pulled myself out of it. I was lucky you guys were there to stop me, to ground me. But you were just a kid, and nobody else was around. You had no idea what was happening.”

  Roman’s face is still. I run my gaze over the striking lines of his profile as I turn a little in the seat to face him. He’s so fucking gorgeous. Beautiful and broken.

  But not as broken. Not anymore.

  “And so as awful as it was,” I go on. “I think that you should… I don’t want you to blame yourself. Because there was no way you could have stopped it. Hell, it wasn’t really even you doing it, and if they were around, I know your family would want you to leave your guilt behind too.”

  Roman gives me a small, sad smile, glancing at me out of the corner of his eyes before focusing back on the road. “Well. I know that. Or…” He sighs. “I sort of know that. It took a long time for me to stop feeling a crushing guilt. It happens in increments. Every time I think I’ve totally forgiven myself, something happens to make me realize I was still holding onto some.”

  “Are you still holding onto some now?” I ask softly.

  He tilts his head to the side, thinking. “I don’t think so. But then, that’s the thing, I don’t know. But I do know that some more of it has left me. Because of you.”

  His hand reaches across to mine and squeezes gently. I squeeze right back, the gesture automatic.

  “I wish I could’ve met them,” I tell him. “I really do.”

  Roman nods and smiles. “I’m glad to hear that. I think that they… well, I was a child, so perhaps I’m not remembering well. You know how kids are. But I think they would have liked you. I think they would’ve been glad I met you.”

  I take a deep breath as Roman lets go of my hand and grips the steering wheel. “Tell me about them?”

  I want to know. All that I know about them now is the tragedy. Their deaths and the aftermath. I want to know the good parts.

  Roman thinks for a moment, tilting his head slightly.

  Then he starts to talk about them. About his older sister, and how she always looked out for him but they often pranked each other too. About how they would sneakily watch movies their parents wouldn’t let them see by sitting on the stairs and peeking into the living room. He tells me about how his mother was firm, and how his father was the cook in the family, and about how in the summers they would take long vacations and stay in a cabin by a lake.

  It sounds wonderful, and my heart aches all over again that he never got to have the rest of it. But it sounds like what he did have was good. And I’m glad for that.

  Roman talks and talks, more than I’ve ever heard him do, actually.

  Like he’s been holding his breath for ages and now he’s finally getting to exhale.

  The day after Roman and I arrive at Griffin, classes start up again. Everyone else is back on campus too, and it’s a bit surreal, honestly. As if at some point, fighting Agustin became my real life and going to school like a normal person became the unreal dream, the fabrication, the fantasy.

  Students and professors alike are a little shell shocked, but overall, people seem glad to be back. There are a few therapists that Hardwick’s brought in for people to talk to if they need it. I’m pretty damn sure that the roster is full. And there are groups that you can go to and talk about what happened. I notice that some students are skittish, jumping at any loud noises. Some people are sporting bandages or casts.

  But overall, everyone settles back into the routine pretty quickly. I think that for the most part people are relieved it’s all over and they can finally relax. Well, except us third-years who have a big final project to prepare for. We’re all freaking out.

  “If I survived that final battle only to flunk out,” Erin says at one point during a study group, gripping her pencil so hard it snaps in half, “I might actually go insane.”

  On the fifth day back, I run into Alyssa—literally. I’m coming around a corner on the second floor of Wellwood Hall, running late for class, and she’s got her head down looking at her phone, so we smack into each other.

  “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry,” I say, crouching to pick up her scattered things, not seeing who it is.

  “No, I was looking at my phone, it’s fine,” she replies—and then we both look up and realize who we’re talking to.

  Ah. For a moment, we both freeze, staring at each other.

  Then I hand Alyssa back her things and we stand up. She looks… well, she’s dressed in the same style as usual, with the same clothes and hair and all that. But something about her seems different. Like there’s a gravity to her that wasn’t there before.

  She gives me a slow once-over, dragging her gaze over me like she’s slowly assessing me. Once, that would’ve made me angry. I would’ve demanded to know what she had decided to nitpick me for today.

  Now, I don’t even care. I’ve got so much else going on, why bother worrying what she thinks of me? Or what she might say or do?

  “You did good,” she finally tells me. It sounds like she’s struggling to get the words out, like she hates admitting it. “With the whole thing. Thanks.”

  There are a lot of things I could say to that. I didn’t do it for you. So you’re ready to admit I’m not a waste of DNA? Let’s see some proper groveling. Yeah, I bet that really hurt to say.

  But I don’t want to continue the fight or this stupid feud we’ve had going on for years. I’m not going to waste any of my breath on it.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” I tell her instead.

  Alyssa’s eyes go wide with surprise. I try to infuse as much sincerity into my voice as I can. “And I appreciate you helping out against Agustin in the fight.”

  “Oh.” The blonde girl glances around like she’s waiting for a camera crew to pop out or something. “I—um. Yes. I wasn’t going to let that asshole win, now was I?”

  Well, at least we can find common ground in that. “Yeah, same. Good luck with your senior project.”

  I start to walk away, and I’ve just about reached the end of the hallway when I hear her say, “You too.”

  Feels pretty good, actually.

  Even though good things are happening though, and even though I am enjoying my classes, I can’t help but feel… antsy. It’s weird. I can’t put my finger on it.

  I try to explain it that night in bed as I curl up next to Roman. I’m openly living with him now because honestly, at this point, why not? He listens patiently, running his fingers through my hair as I ramble and stumble, but eventually I just give up.

  “I’m not saying what I want to say.” I puff my cheeks out, exhaling a deep breath. “But I don’t know exactly what it is I want to say. I just know that I’m… that something’s different.”

  “You’ve changed,” Roman points out. “You’re no longer the student you were when you arrived here. Even the other students who fought with us didn’t face down Agustin over and over like you did. I’m sure they’re all feeling a bit u
nsettled as well, but I’m not surprised you’re feeling it more acutely than they are.”

  I suppose. I hope it’ll go away with time. Or maybe I don’t want it to go away. I don’t know. Ugh. My head’s kind of a mess.

  At the end of my first week though, before I can drive myself too crazy with it—I get a call to Hardwick’s office.

  Hoo boy.

  I don’t think I’m in trouble. He probably wants me to do something publicity-wise for the school, or maybe someone’s here to interview me, or it’s a Circuit official who needs a statement about something or other. In the immediate aftermath of the fight, I spent an entire day with the men at a Circuit office explaining everything over and over and over again. You’d think I wouldn’t have to do it for the millionth time, but red tape’s a bitch.

  When I arrive, Hardwick opens the door and greets me warmly. “Elliot, come in, come in. I hope your first week has been going well.”

  “Oh, you know, as well as can be expected.”

  There’s someone sitting in one of the chairs in front of Hardwick’s desk, and as he walks around to take his seat again, the visitor stands up, smoothing her blond hair back with one hand.

  It’s Aurora.

  I actually blow out a breath in relief as I settle into the chair next to hers. I mean, I figured she was okay, but it’s good to have confirmation on that.

  “You look good,” I tell her.

  She looks like she always does, but I figure after being put into stasis and all, she deserves a compliment.

  Aurora gives me a small smile. “I’m glad to see you doing so well, Elliot.”

  “Please don’t tell me I need to fill out another form.” Who knew heroism came with so much paperwork?

  Aurora shakes her head. “No, I’m here to speak with you about a new initiative the Circuit is putting together. In light of all that you’ve done for the community and your work against Agustin, the Circuit feels that you have earned the right to be officially graduated from this school. We’ll consider your efforts against Agustin a ‘work study’ and count it toward your final project.”

  “It would be an insult, we felt,” Hardwick says, “to claim that you still needed to work on your magical control for the rest of the school year when you’ve clearly proven that you have more control and competency than most.”

  I’m not sure I’d go quite that far, but yeah, I do think I have my powers well in hand.

  “Thank you,” I tell them honestly. “So, that’s it? I’m done? I’m graduated?”

  They both nod. “Yes,” Aurora says. “We are considering you officially graduated.”

  Wow. Holy crap.

  A weight I didn’t even realize I was carrying lifts, and I almost whoop with relief. This is why I’ve been feeling antsy, I realize. After going out there and hunting Agustin, fighting him, meeting Liam and taking on the Circuit—I don’t really want to be back at school. As fun as Griffin is, as much as it’s given me, as much as I love it… I’ve outgrown it now. I’m ready for the real world.

  “I have another question for you, now that we’ve settled that,” Aurora goes on. “As I said, the Circuit is putting together an initiative. In light of what happened with Agustin, we want to be better prepared should a magical person try to seize so much power.”

  Good plan. Maybe a little late on the draw, but better late than never.

  Aurora purses her lips, uncrossing and then recrossing her legs.

  “As I’m sure your history courses have taught you, it’s a commonly held theory among our historians that the so-called gods of ancient myth were magically gifted people who let their power go to their heads. But the argument against that theory was that we didn’t have magic users in our midst who were so powerful they could be mistaken for gods. Or at least, not gods with the multiple powers mythology claims they had. We assumed such stories were either embellishment or fabrication.”

  Her impassive expression hardens a little, her gray eyes glinting.

  “But now, having witnessed Agustin’s rise, we must consider the very real possibility that there are other magical practitioners who could reach his level of power. In that case, we feel it best to create a task force that could neutralize someone like Agustin, if a person arrives with his power, his lack of morality, and his criminal plans. We don’t want to be caught with our pants down again.”

  “Sounds good,” I tell her, raising my eyebrows a little at her turn of phrase.

  “The Circuit is also working to create more support programs for Unpredictables,” Hardwick adds, grinning. He’s like a kid at Christmas. “Liaisons to our community, programs that support us rather than just shoving students into Griffin and then ignoring them. Really making an effort to welcome Unpredictables into magical society.”

  I’m really glad about that. Griffin’s great, but up until now it’s been literally the only home Unpredictables have, and then we’re thrust back out into the world after graduation—a world that doesn’t necessarily want us. Now, hopefully, Unpredictables will have a better life and a better future.

  “So, why are you guys telling me this?” I ask, glancing between the two of them.

  “Because we’d like you to be on the task force.” Aurora smiles. “The High Circuit has requested you specifically. Consider yourself… like when the case moves from the local police to the FBI, you’re the FBI. We’ll bring you in to handle things, particularly Unpredictables, that those of us with normal levels of magic can’t.”

  Damn. That actually sounds pretty cool. I’d get to see the world, help people, and kick ass. All things I care about.

  There’s just one thing…

  “Can Dmitri, Cam, and Asher join?” I ask. “They’ve been looking for jobs but haven’t been very successful yet. A lot of people weren’t too keen on hiring Unpredictables.”

  “One of the programs we’re looking into will promote bringing more Unpredictables into the workforce,” Hardwick cuts in, leaning forward.

  “You are just overjoyed about all of this, aren’t you?” I tease.

  “How could you tell?” He grins, and it makes him look ten years younger.

  “Those were three of the four who helped you on your mission against Agustin, yes?” Aurora asks me. “They did admirable work. I see no reason why they can’t join the team if you all work well together. Perhaps you could also put a word in with your boyfriend.”

  “You mean Roman?”

  I take it this means Aurora either doesn’t know I’m dating all four of those guys, or she’s just being tactful. It’s hard to tell with her.

  She nods. “Yes. He did great work in cases involving necromancy and unsolved murders in his younger years. We would love to have him on your team as well.”

  “He won’t want to give up being a professor,” I say, “but I’m pretty sure I could persuade him to split his time.”

  I can hardly hold in my grin. Holy shit. I get to work with all four of my men, and I get to be some kind of badass Avenger while I do it. Fuck, yes.

  Aurora sighs. “You’re going to be causing me trouble for quite some time, aren’t you, Elliot?”

  I waggle my eyebrows at her. “You bet.”

  I can’t fucking wait.

  Epilogue

  I can’t sleep.

  I should be sleeping. It’s six o’clock in the morning, and really, no one should be awake at this ungodly hour.

  But I’m too amped up.

  My eyes popped open at five-thirty, and despite my constant reminders to my body that it could really use the rest, that I don’t have to be awake yet, I can’t convince myself that I’m really tired.

  Tilting my head back, I stare up at the ceiling above my bed. The white paint looks gray in the pre-dawn light that seeps in through the curtains.

  Go to sleep, Elliot. Go to sleep.

  There’s a gentle rap on the door, and my head lifts off the mattress as I look over.

  “Who is it?” I call softly.

  “Cam.�
�

  “And Asher.”

  I grin.

  Oh, thank fuck, because my mantra really wasn’t working for shit.

  “Come in.”

  The door cracks open, and two heads appear in the small space. Asher and Cam are both still wearing their sleep clothes—shorts and a t-shirt for Ash, who runs hot, and flannel pants and a tee for Cam—and they step inside and close the door behind them.

  They cross the room together and then split up when they reach the bed, lifting the comforter and crawling in from opposite sides so that they sandwich me between them. Not that I mind one bit. I love sandwiches.

  “Did you guys meet up in the hall or something?” I tease, turning onto my side to face Asher as Cam scoots close to curl his body around mine.

  “Nah.” Asher smiles, blushing slightly. “I was awake, and I just sent out a little feeler to see if Cam was too. Turns out he was. So we thought we’d come over together.”

  “I see.” A grin tilts my lips, and I lean forward to kiss him. “You guys couldn’t sleep either?”

  “No way. Too excited.” Cam brushes my hair aside so he can nibble at my shoulder and neck, and I squirm, rubbing my ass against his growing hard-on. “This is a big day. We thought maybe we should kick it off right. You know, celebrate a little.”

  “Ah. Makes sense.”

  I pull Asher a little closer too, until they’re both pressed flush against me. Ash’s cock pokes into my stomach, and the feel of them both hot and hard against me, their muscled bodies encasing me, has slickness gathering in my core.

  “What do you want to do to celebrate?” I ask, my voice a little lower and breathier as I move between them, grinding against one, then the other.

  “Oh, we’ve got a few ideas,” Asher murmurs, glancing over my shoulder to grin at Cam. “But we’re open to improvising.”

  I laugh at that, and then I lean forward and kiss Ash again, losing myself in the sweetness of it as I grope them shamelessly and they grope me right back. After a few minutes, the covers become too constricting, so we throw them off. Then Cam pulls my tank top off before he and Asher tug their shirts over their heads too. I end up on my other side, my tongue wrestling with Cam’s as I kiss him hard and dirty and Asher massages my breasts, tweaking and teasing my nipples.