by CY Jones
Angelica
I wake to a warm weight holding me down. My ass brushes against something hard, and there’s a warm hand formed around my breast. I inhale, smelling Quinn’s sugar and berry scent. His breathing is deep and even, still fast asleep. I try to extract myself from his hold, just to be pulled back in an even tighter embrace. When his hardness brushes my bottom, I remember I don’t have any panties on and blush embarrassed. In his sleep, his thumb brushes my nipple, tickling my piercing and I shiver from being so damn sensitive there.
“Quinn,” I croak, fighting a moan, but the effort makes my voice come out all breathy. “Quinn,” I try again louder, this time with more authority, but he still doesn’t budge. Freaking hell. Why does he always sleep like the dead? “Quinn,” I bark, kicking backwards and he wakes startled, pulling me closer to his body until his hardness pokes me and pushes past my cheeks and I grow still. A little more, he’ll be inside me. “Well, are you going to get off me?” I ask after waiting a beat.
“Why? This position is so cozy. I could just remove the barrier of my boxers and we can really have some fun,” he teases.
“Be serious.” Having enough of his teasing, I push his arm away so I can sit up, but when I get a clear look at his face, my eyes widen, horrified.
“That bad, huh?” he comments.
“What the fuck, Quinn? What the hell happened to you?” His pale skin is nothing but a patchwork of black and blue. His bottom lip is swollen, still bleeding from a cut that has yet to close. His left eye is practically swollen shut. As suspected when I move the sheet, the rest of him is just as bruised as his face. The worst an angry red line on the side like it was branded into his skin. Residue from a concentrated hit of magic. Someone tried to cut him open.
“Quinn,” I gasp.
“A couple of mages tried to jump me, it’s no big deal. You should see the other guys, but I’m sure the school has shipped what’s left of their bodies to their parents by now,” he chuckles like this is all a big joke, but I’m furious. I can’t believe a bunch of mages tried to kill him last night and I wasn’t around to help him.
“How much is a couple?” I question.
“Twenty-five, I think. Could have been more.”
“Quinn!” I yell outraged. My body vibrates with a well of emotions and he pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around me. I’m weak. Nowhere near as strong as him and I sob into his chest, crying tears of despair mixed with my anguish. “Shh, angel pie, don’t cry. I’m alive. Here with you.”
“Why are you comforting me? I should be comforting you. You’re the one that looks like you left a free-for-all boxing match.”
His eyes search mine. The jokes and lightheartedness gone, as he grabs my chin in a firm hold. “Because, angel pie, you’re prone to worry. They were all weak mages and even if they weren’t, never again,” he growls, “underestimate my ability to take care of myself and what’s mine.” He keeps a hold of me for a bit longer before letting me go. He’s right, I shouldn’t have doubted him. I should have faith in him and his abilities like I would want from him.
“I’m sorry. I’ll never doubt you again,” I reply, going for a peck on his cheek and he moves his face in time to catch my kiss at the corner of his lips. Through his eyes, Joker smiles down on me wickedly.
“Would it be weird for you to love me differently?” he asks suddenly. His voice sounds vulnerable and I’m confused about his meaning.
“What do you mean? I’m not sure I know what you’re asking.” Mr. Meow chooses now to hop on the bed between us, rubbing his head against Quinn’s side and he picks him up and places him on his lap and starts to pet him.
“Nevermind,” he mumbles absentmindedly. I stay silent, but my mind screams for answers. What did he mean by love him differently? I can’t think of a way to love him deeper than I already do.
“I’m going to get the oil for your face. Can’t have you walking around looking like a cast member in a horror film.” I get up quickly and scurry over to the shelf holding my magical ingredients.
Finding the bottle I need, I pour the oil in my hands and gently rub it into his face and then his chest. When I get to the red angry scrape on his abdomen, he hisses through his teeth, but stays still as I massage the oil in. Soon, his bruises start to fade and his breathing evens out, no longer making that horrific rattling sound. For any internal injuries, he’ll have to go to a proper healer. Laying down on his chest, he waits patiently for me to get to his back. Climbing over his body, I remember I don’t have any panties on and move to get off him, when he grabs my thigh, forcing me to straddle him. I want to protest, but I let it go. He still has on his boxers, so I guess this is alright. It’s not like we’re fucking. With that thought, I remember Kirito and that sexy ass wet dream I had last night. I hope I don’t talk in my sleep because if I do, Quinn heard a mouthful, including me climaxing.
When I’m done rubbing the oil in, I gather some clothes to change in after wiggling into some sleep shorts. This may be an all-female floor, but no one follows the rules and males are up here all the time. When I come back, Quinn is gone. I’m about to get upset that he left without saying goodbye when I see a note on my desk in his neat script.
Had something to take care of. I’ll meet you at the picnic area in an hour
Quinn
I wonder what came up that’s so important. I hope whatever it is he doesn’t get hurt, better yet, I hope he left to track down a healer to finish the job. Judging by his outer injuries, I’m sure he has internal ones as well. Remembering my promise not to worry so much, I put a hold on my protective side that wants to go after him and march him straight to a healer and busy myself straightening up my room until it’s time for me to leave and meet him.
Quinn
Marcel is waiting for me once I’m dressed and have left my sister’s dorm. Now, I can see why she’s so annoyed when I send him off with her.
“You’re supposed to be my sister’s nurse maid, not mine,” I growl, but only half-heartedly. Despite the front I put on for Angelica, I was still hurting, having not fully healed yet. I think I may have a couple of cracked ribs, if not broken ones.
“I wanted to make sure you made it back alive. The others are restless. No matter what I tell them, they are not confident that you’re still alive and are starting to make a nuisance of themselves by causing an uproar over all of the power gaps.”
Fucking hell. Could they have at least waited a full twenty-four hours before going crazy? They act like one day without a leader is the end of the world.
“Ahh, you have moved into the number two spot, now have you?” My smile is deliciously wicked. “I don’t have to worry about you coming for me, do I?”
“Of course not. I was happy being ranked third. You’re the one who’s responsible for my current promotion.”
“That wasn’t me. You can thank Torvon and his stupidity, though he might be hard to reach. Know anyone, besides my sister, who can hold a seance?” I quip.
“Ha ha, boss, you’re so funny.”
“You intrigue me, Marcel. You’re the only mage here who doesn’t care about moving up in the ranks. Why is that?”
“When you grow up in a family that only cares about power and how to obtain it, the thought of actually having it grows old. Being an only child makes it worse. I do not want other people’s agenda pushed on me. Everything I do is at my own free will.”
“What an admirable idealist you are. Although I do not share in your logic, I can see where you are coming from. How can I not? I’m a Boudreaux. Born into power and privilege. Being the fourth born in a long line of siblings, you learn early on to fight for everything.”
“Yet, you protect your sister like a wolf would its cub.” Did I not mention before Marcel is very perceptive? Maybe too perceptive in this case.
“She’s only three minutes younger than me, but I still see her as my little sister. I have a closer bond to her than our other siblings. They don’t understand her like I do
, and yes, I’m very protective of her. Besides my mother, she is the only female I’ll ever love.” I must be hurt. I’m talking too much, but he nods his head, understanding my words.
I wonder if he hears the finality in them. As many females as I fucked to sate Joker’s thirst, they aren't enough to satisfy me. I have never been able to grow any physical attachment toward the females I fuck. To me, they are nothing but a quick lay until the next, a pit stop. It’s only when I’m with angel pie does my heart feel like it is beating.
When I woke last night to her moans with my hard on pressed into her naked backside and my hand on her bare breast, was one of the first times I felt truly alive out of the killing haze. Her wet dream, the way she moved, unconsciously seeking me out, grinding against me. I’m not a saint, far from it. I could not stop myself from reaching into my boxers and stroking myself as she moved against me. When she came, the look of ecstasy on her face was unlike anything I’ve seen before and it sent me shooting my load into my closed fist. Everything was right with the world. I never felt more satisfied even though I was not actually inside her wet heat. It was the climaxing together that fulfilled me. Sitting up, I wiped my hand on a nearby towel, reveling in our shared experience when she turned over and shattered everything, moaning his name. Kirito Choi. Because of her, he’s the next name on my list to kill. Because of her, he’ll die. No one touches what’s mine. No one.
Just like that fuckwad aristocrat from back home. The one Harley sent after Angelica. I knew from the beginning Harley’s intentions weren’t true. She’s a heartless bitch and she hates Angelica with a passion. Too many years of venom being plunged into her veins from our bitter mother. In some stupid scheme for revenge or maybe it was her own hatred for Angelica, Harley manipulated Constantine, an aristocrat from a well to do family in our commune, into seducing Angelica, convincing him if he could woo her and trick her into giving up her virginity, she’d consider his proposal for marriage.
Of course, he went along with the vile scheme. A Boudreaux showing interest is a big deal. He looked right past the deceit and could only see the greed and the prestige of our family’s bloodline when my sister was all about the game and hurting angel pie. I didn’t learn about her foul plot until it was too late. My angel pie had already fallen hard under Constantine's spell, and gave what was most precious to her over to him. I got there too late to stop it from happening. As soon as he spilled his foul seed into her, he leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Harley sends her love.” Then got dressed and left her there, naked, sobbing, and completely heartbroken.
He did not make it back to report to my sister. I killed him on the way, spending ample time dismembering him limb from limb, using an old metal brand to cauterize his wounds so he didn’t bleed out on me and a taser to shock him awake every time he passed out. When my fun was over, I sent a special package to my sister’s dorm every week, containing a new piece of his body. I saved his dick for last, having hand delivered it myself in a cigar box. I wanted her to know just who spoiled her fun and whose side I’ll always be on.
When we get back to the dorms, it’s just like Marcel said, absolute chaos, but when they see me, they all freeze immediately and follow my every step with their eyes. Some in disbelief, others enraged. I wonder how many besties and loved ones’ lives I put an end to last night? The conniving ones, stupid enough to believe they can get something out of me. Then there’s those lustful gazes from the greedy females and a few males that want to fuck me, putting their bodies on show like merchandise. However they look at me, they all, without a doubt, recognize me as the number one ranked. The one to survive last night’s massacre. Yes, assholes get a good look because despite what you heard, I’m not fucking dead. I guess there really isn’t any rest for the wicked.
As if I’m sitting on a throne, I plop myself on the couch, scaring off the previous occupants. “Listen up, losers, because I’m only going to say this once. Twenty-five mages senselessly lost their lives last night. Why? Because they were stupid and followed after the wrong person. The new top eight that just joined the ranking, you can thank Torvon from the grave for your new status upgrade. Whether you hold onto it or not, that’s up to you. Try to usurp me like he tried and failed, I’ll kill you. Look as if you’re plotting against me, I’ll kill you. If I get a whiff of any deceit, rumor or not, I-will-fucking-end-you,” I growl slowly, glancing between them all, directly in the eye so that they know I mean business. I refuse to live looking over my shoulder every five minutes when I have more important things to focus my attention on. “Do yourself a favor and learn the lesson your predecessor never did. Piss me off, break any of my rules, I will come after you, and once I start playing, you’ll be begging for death. Now, clear out and clean up this damn mess.”
They don’t need to be told twice as they scramble away, picking up chairs and tables on their way out the door. “Well said, boss. Now what?” Marcel asks.
“Find me a healer and then I need to meet my sister.” He goes off to do my bidding and I lay on the couch, throwing my arm carelessly over my face, closing my eyes. If someone tries to attack me after all that, I swear not even Satan will be able compare with what I’ll do to them.
I’m woken up by small hands touching my body and I grab at them and squeeze tight, making the assailant squeak in pain. When my vision clears, I see it’s Kaydence, the preppy school guide touching me.
“I… I’m s-sorry. They said you needed a healer,” she stutters as she trembles like a leaf. Geez, we have come so far from the first day. First, she was scared of my sister, and now, she’s terrified of me.
“I do, but next time, you should ask before you start touching people,” I chastise. I didn’t know she was a healer, but I should have known. Unlike most of the mages here, she screams goodness.
“I’m sorry,” she says again and I wave the apology off.
“Just heal me. I believe my ribs are broken and it hurts like a bitch here,” I reply, pointing to where the scar was when that asshole tried to open me up with a last ditch curse to get away. I swear I wish Torvon was still alive so I can kill his ass right over again. This time by digging in his skin and ripping out his spleen.
I hiss when she gets to the spot and bite down hard to keep from screaming, but soon, the pain fades and a warmth spreads throughout and I relax into the couch cushions.
“You should be fine now. Three of your ribs were broken and that curse was a nasty one, but it’s all gone now.”
“Great,” I reply, sitting up and she lays her palm flat on my chest, trying to push me back down.
“You need to rest. I may have healed your injuries, but you’re still magically drained. Your mana has yet to replenish properly.”
“What did I say about touching without asking?” I hiss and she moves her hand away like it’s on fire.
“I’m sorry...”
“Fuck,” I growl, waving her off. “Stop apologizing.” I’m a piss poor patient and all her apologies are agitating me. “Thanks for the advice, doc, but I’ll be fine. I promise you, I won’t do anything stupid to kill myself.”
Getting to my feet, I go back to my room to change my clothes. I don’t know how long it took Marcel to find Kaydence and then for her to heal me, but I’m already late to meet Angelica. I don’t want her worrying about me more than she already does or thinking I’ve keeled over or something. I dress in record time and on my way out the door, I leave orders for Marcel. Then I make a run for it to meet my sister.
“You’re late,” she grumbles. She looks like a vision sitting on top of one of the picnic tables with the sun beaming down on her tan skin, making it even more golden. Her hair is pulled in a high ponytail and I get a hard on seeing my bell still braided within the strands. She’s wearing a long grey shirt, sheer enough to see the black sports bra underneath and super short jean shorts. Her legs are covered in sheer thigh high stockings, and long socks bunched up to her tennis shoes, and my favorite jacket of hers. The one she sews
patches of things she has done that have meaning to her. Most of those things were done with me, which is why it’s my favorite. Dagga is strapped to her thigh and hanging off the side of her shorts is a spare doll.
I stop staring at her body before I snap and show her just how differently I want her to love me. How I love her and give her a charming smile. “Sorry, my errand took longer than expected.” She is the only one I’ll ever apologize to.
“So, what do you want to do today?” she asks, jumping down.
“Anything you want, the skys the limit,” I answer, giving her a broad smile.
“That’s not saying much being stuck here. I almost miss the days when we would take the private jet and sneak off for our little vacays,” she sighs.
I don’t tell her that we didn’t really sneak off. Dad always knew where we were. He only allowed us to go because he, more than anyone, knew how much of Mother’s shit one can take. He wasn’t blind to the abuse. There just wasn’t much he could do about it when he was away on business. After Mother whipped her near death, he told me the truth about her and once he saw my feelings about her didn’t change, he made sure I had the means to take Angelica away when he was gone.
“Want to train? I can work on my moves.”
“Seriously, train? That’s what you want to do with this beautiful day?” I ask incredulously. I was thinking of more in the lines of resting on the lush grass holding her in my arms so I can replenish my mana.