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The Shatterproof Magician (The Inscrutable Paris Beaufont Book 4)

Page 15

by Sarah Noffke


  “Not only that, but no man wants someone who can’t dance,” Becky commented, rolling her eyes over her shoulder.

  “That’s definitely not true,” Hemingway countered.

  “I think one of the main points is that grace is attractive.” Wilfred tried to regain control of his classroom. “When we possess it, only then can we teach it.”

  “So I teach Cinderella to rumba, and hopefully she lands a man who can buy her a Roomba vacuum to clean her floors, right?” Paris teased. “That’s the dream, is it?”

  “The dream is to find love that fulfills its purposes,” Wilfred said, always the picture of patience. He clapped his gloved hands. “Now please break into pairs and practice today’s dance, the rumba.”

  The students moved off, picking partners.

  Hemingway made a beeline for Paris, to her relief, because everyone was getting picked up—everyone but Becky, who most were over at this point. If Paris had to dance with that witch, she would sweep her legs out from under her and run.

  However, before Hemingway made his way over to Paris, Wilfred intersected, holding up his hand to block them. “Miss Paris Beaufont will be dancing solo in this class.”

  “I’ve been dancing solo,” Paris argued.

  “Yeah, you keep saying she has to master dancing alone and know the moves on her own before she can dance with someone else,” Hemingway added.

  The butler nodded. “That’s correct. In the last class, I was Miss Beaufont’s partner.”

  “And I was excellent and knew all the moves.” Paris had tried to do better although the whole thing seemed silly.

  “Yes, but your problem now is that you refuse to let others lead,” Wilfred stated.

  “So, shouldn’t I practice with a partner to get better at that?” Paris asked. “I mean, maybe I’m leading because I’m not used to having someone else.”

  “Although that’s an evident point,” Wilfred began, “I think it means you haven’t figured out how to dance alone enough to dance with another. Love is about loving yourself as much as it’s about loving another. We have to get good at being solo before we can have a partner.”

  Paris lowered her chin and regarded the butler with hooded eyes. “You know, for someone who is supposed to have no emotions, I think you got more than you let on.”

  “My programming is intuitive.” Wilfred bowed and disappeared back onto the dance floor of students.

  Hemingway gave her an apologetic smile and also bowed. “I hope to dance with you soon, Miss Beaufont.”

  She nodded regretfully at him, watching as he disappeared onto the dance floor too, also wondering when she’d be ready for a partner. Paris felt as if she’d danced solo her whole life, but maybe she’d only learned to “dance.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “The full moon has long had a significant impact on the human psyche,” Professor Joyce Beacon began as she walked onto the stage in the auditorium of the observatory.

  Paris rolled her eyes. Here we go again with this unfounded baloney. Although she tried to keep an open mind, the astrology class at Happily Ever After College had tested her patience more than a few times. She wanted to believe that there was something the star charts and phases of the planets could tell them about love, but so far it was all founded in superstition and misleading correlations.

  “The werewolf turns on a full moon—signaling the aggression it causes,” Professor Beacon continued, her long gray dreads swaying as she paced in front of the class.

  “Some packs of werewolves turn every single night despite the phases of the moon,” Paris interrupted, all eyes in the auditorium turning to look at her.

  Because of a conversation she had with her parents about the werewolf her Aunt Raina Ludwig married, she knew a little more about werewolves. Fane Popa-Ludwig was from Lupei and the leader of the original pack of werewolves in Romania. A unique property of that pack, according to Paris’ mother, was that the werewolves turned every single night regardless of the moon’s phase.

  “Where have you learned such a false notion?” someone asked from the back of the room.

  Everyone turned to see an agent for FGA standing at the back of the room. Rumors said that his name was Agent Ruby. He wore a jet black suit like his counterparts but also had a bowler hat covering his hair.

  “From a Warrior for the House of Fourteen,” Paris stated, not allowed to say it was her mother or that she was back yet. Only a few knew that until Liv and Stefan were ready to reenter the world and take back their positions as Warriors.

  The man laughed coldly. “Because your parents used to be Warriors for the House of Fourteen, you think that makes you an expert on such things, do you, Miss Beaufont?”

  Paris narrowed her eyes at the man. She wanted to blurt out that her parents were still Warriors for the House of Fourteen, but she couldn’t. That was fine. She knew how to combat this guy, who looked more stern and rigid than Agent Topaz.

  “My uncle happens to be a Warrior presently for the House of Fourteen and also a werewolf, who turns every single night.” Paris made the statement with confidence, allowed to say that much—although Liv had shared something else about the Lupei pack that she wasn’t allowed to share with anyone…ever.

  Agent Ruby sighed dramatically as if this news was of great disappointment to him. “That doesn’t surprise me. Magicians are notorious for making illogical choices when it comes to appointing people into powerful positions.”

  What the hell was this guy’s problem? Paris reflexively wanted to punch him in the face. She worked to quell her demon blood, which was suddenly boiling. Losing her temper would only make her look worse in this situation.

  “The House of Fourteen is the governing body for all magical organizations,” Paris argued. “I would be careful about insulting their decisions.”

  Agent Ruby lifted his chin, revealing a wicked grin. “We operate independently of any governing body per the authority of Saint Valentine.”

  “Who was appointed by Mother Nature,” Paris cut in.

  “Who was appointed by the board,” he argued, his smile disappearing.

  “I guess I’ll have to call Mama Jamba and tell her that her authority can’t trump a board of fairies,” Paris said with satisfaction, seeing the rise she was getting from the agent.

  “You don’t know Mother Nature,” he spat bitterly.

  Casually, Paris brushed her hair off her shoulder. “We had dinner last week.”

  Professor Joyce Beacon cleared her throat, working to regain the class’ attention. “Well, an uncle who is a Warrior and a werewolf and dinners with Mother Nature. That’s quite impressive, Paris.”

  Unhurried, Paris turned back to face the front of the auditorium.

  “I didn’t know about this pack of werewolves who can turn every night,” the professor continued, striding the length of the stage again. “A full moon affects the tides, the seasons, circadian rhythms, REM cycles of sleep, emotions, and hormones. It is well-documented that a full moon increases aggression resulting in higher incidents of violence.”

  “I’m going to have to stop you right there,” Paris interrupted. She knew she would create trouble for herself. However, she simply couldn’t help it. Mae Ling encouraged her to speak out about things she didn’t agree with at the College, and Paris’ recent research on the full moon seemed appropriately timed.

  When Curie had said that the spell to transform herself, Faraday, and Edison had to be on a full moon due to its gravitational pull, Paris had done some research. She’d found some powerful things related to magic on a full moon, as Curie had stated. There was also a lot of often-popularized wrong information.

  Professor Beacon halted, staring down at Paris. All eyes in the auditorium were on her once again.

  “Although it’s true that the moon affects sleep and the tides,” Paris began, “there is no evidence to support the notion that it increases aggression or influences hormones or emotions.”

  “Is this m
ore false information that you learned from magicians at the House of Fourteen?” Agent Ruby strode down the center aisle of the auditorium and stopped right in front of Paris.

  “A book in the library here at Happily Ever After College,” Paris retorted, copying his smugness.

  This answer threw Agent Ruby off his game. “Was it a fiction book?”

  “Yes, and I read Harry Potter to learn how to do my spell work,” Paris replied sarcastically.

  Some students behind her gasped at her boldness. A few snickered. She guessed some of them were Christine and Penny, who would appreciate her reply.

  “I’m not sure what type of behavior you were used to getting away with at the school for delinquents that you came from,” Agent Ruby scolded, his eyes narrowed on Paris, “but here at Happily Ever After College, we expect a high level of decorum.”

  Paris nodded. “Yes, and the ability to digest whatever wrong information is shoved down our throat from FGA. Is that right?”

  The fury on his face deepened. “I would make the excuse that it’s because you’re half-magician that you behave so poorly, if it hadn’t recently come to my attention that you’re not only a halfling, you also have the blood of a demon.”

  Paris froze. Everyone around her fell silent. She felt as if everyone in the room peeled back away from her in total fear.

  Chapter Forty

  “Where did you learn that?” Paris tried to breathe past the sudden tightness in her chest. Only Hemingway and Penny, at the school, knew that she had the blood of a demon. Why would either one of them share that information with FGA, who were already scrutinizing her and looking for a reason to kick her out of Happily Ever After College? Suddenly she felt betrayed in a way she’d never expected.

  A triumphant smile spread on Agent Ruby’s face. “So you don’t deny it then?”

  “Who told you that?” Heat built in Paris’ face, spurring her anger, making her think it would overpower her.

  The agent folded his arms over his chest. “My source isn’t relevant since you’ve now confirmed that it’s true. I’m certain that this will be of great interest to the board.”

  “I’m not sure that this conversation should be the business of the entire class,” Professor Beacon cut in, stepping down off the stage beside Agent Ruby.

  Paris was relieved to see she wasn’t keeping her distance from her, although she’d sensed many of the students around her pull back—fearful of her.

  “I think if we have a demon in our midst, that all should be notified of it,” Agent Ruby argued. “I’m sure many of the families of our students will find this to be very disconcerting.”

  “I’m not dangerous,” Paris remarked, sitting up straighter, trying to feign confidence.

  Agent Ruby ran his narrowed gaze over her. “You refuse to wear the school uniform, argue with your professors, and make a mockery of our curriculum. I fail to see how you can argue that you’re not a hazard to this college and all who attend.”

  Paris stood, facing him directly. “I also helped the love meter to recover, matching up Amelia Rose and Grayson McGregor. I bring value to Happily Ever After College.”

  He sighed, shaking his head—unfortunately undeterred. “I do believe that the love meter is at a record low. Apparently, your efforts weren’t as successful as you thought. This is a perfect reason that the board is looking into the matter of students working on fairy godmother cases. That should be the job of our graduates and not those who will invariably flunk out or be expelled.”

  Momentarily speechless, Paris felt her breath seize up. This jerk was threatening her in front of the whole class. If she weren’t the talk of Happily Ever After College before, she would be the newest hot topic. Not to mention that everyone would treat her as if she had the plague. Right then, she felt like she did.

  “The love meter is down because FriendNet is breaking up relationships,” Paris insisted, not wanting this agent to best her.

  His eyes turned into sharp slits. “How do you know about that?”

  “My source isn’t relevant.” Paris copied his exact wording from earlier.

  There was something all wrong about the expression on Agent Ruby’s face. He suddenly appeared flustered, whereas before his confidence and arrogance had been building. “I think now that we’ve confirmed you have the blood of a demon that the board will have to reconsider your enrollment here at Happily Ever After College. A magician doesn’t belong here, but a demon, well, they shouldn’t belong in this world.”

  “Agent Ruby,” Professor Beacon barked, shock written on her face. “I really must insist that you—”

  “Thank you, Professor, but I think Agent Ruby is only proving who the real monster is,” Paris interrupted, her penetrating gaze on the man before her.

  A few students gasped.

  “Burn,” Christine said from somewhere at Paris’ back.

  Agent Ruby’s face turned an awful shade of red—matching his name. Paris wasn’t going to allow him to best her like this. All she had to do was turn the tables.

  “My demon blood doesn’t make me dangerous,” she said, her confidence bolstered by her friend’s reaction. “Quite the opposite. It compels me to stamp out evil. I can sense it with incredible accuracy. It draws me to it and is invariably repelled by me, which means those who have a problem with me are usually the problem.”

  The insinuation that Paris had spouted caused many around the classroom to break into whispers. Agent Ruby’s eyes darted around, taking in the many students who were suddenly talking in excited voices before his scrutinizing gaze landed on Paris.

  “You are very confused if you think that fairy godmothers are supposed to fight evil, Miss Beaufont,” he said through clenched teeth. “Their job is to promote love. It sounds like you belong elsewhere, and I’m sure that many others will vehemently agree.”

  Before Paris could respond, Agent Ruby did what any coward would when someone had outmatched them and retreated for the exit.

  Chapter Forty-One

  “I promise that it wasn’t me,” Penny said, nearly in tears when Paris confronted her after the class let out. Professor Beacon didn’t try to resume the lesson after the disruption. Instead, she encouraged everyone to try and relax after the explosive argument, sending the students to dinner early.

  To Paris’ surprise, many of the students didn’t treat her differently as they filed out of the observatory and strode toward the mansion. Some offered consoling smiles. Others seemed extra fascinated by her, not hiding their stares.

  “You didn’t tell anyone that I have demon blood?” Paris questioned, striding beside her two friends.

  “Hey, why didn’t you share that information with me?” Christine sounded offended. “I can be trusted.”

  Paris rolled her eyes. “As if I needed another reason for you to think I’m a cool zoo animal.”

  “You totally are.” Christine heaved a dramatic sigh. “I mean, does your life ever stop getting any cooler? What you said to Agent Ruby makes sense. Your demon blood makes you fight evil.”

  “Yeah, it’s why no one is afraid of you,” Penny added, indicating all the students still staring at Paris as they neared the mansion.

  “Well, it’s true,” Paris said. “I inherited the blood from my father, and he says if anything, the demon blood makes us so we can’t stop until we’ve extinguished evil. We’re compelled almost to our detriment.”

  Christine threw her hands up. “Seriously, I only inherited my father’s big feet and red hair. This isn’t fair.”

  Paris and Penny laughed.

  “I promise,” Penny said when the laughter had subsided. “I would never share anything you told me about you with anyone, especially that demon eater, Agent Ruby.”

  “Nice one.” Christine held out her hand for a high five. “He’s totally a demon eater, and I hope he chokes on Paris.”

  Penny, looking unsure of the gesture at first, clumsily threw her palm up to meet Christine. “It’s true though
. That guy is wrong on so many levels.”

  Paris nodded. “Yeah, I don’t get a good feeling about him. He’s somehow worse than the other agents.”

  “Trust that,” Penny encouraged with a serious expression.

  “I will,” Paris stated. “I believe you if you say you didn’t tell anyone about my demon blood. However, that means that if it wasn’t you, it was only one other person.”

  Christine grunted with frustration. “Seriously, why am I not in the circle of trust? I’m loud but a total vault when it comes to secrets.”

  Paris laughed again. “You are trusted. I haven’t had much opportunity to share this. I only told Penny because she gave me advice. This other person figured it out.”

  “The tattle tale,” Christine offered.

  “Yeah,” Paris admitted, anger starting to brew in her again at the idea that Hemingway shared her personal information. “I’ll catch up with you two at dinner. I need to take care of something first.”

  Christine glanced at Penny. “She’s going to go take someone out. Listen for the screams.”

  Paris shook her head, cutting away from her friends, heading for the greenhouse where she’d caught sight of Hemingway. She hoped that she didn’t have to take him out, but if he’d told her secrets after everything, she was definitely going to give him a black eye…maybe two.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  “Right or left?” Paris asked Hemingway when she entered the greenhouse. Thankfully he was the only one in there.

  He looked up from a particularly hairy-looking plant. Seeing her, he smiled wide before confusion covered his face. “Right or left what?”

  “Do you want me to punch you in the right or left eye?” She held up a fist and brandished it in his direction.

  He cocked his head to the side. “I’d prefer neither. Why would you punch me?”

 

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