The Mage’s War (Crescent Moon Academy Book 1)

by CY Jones

  “With everything happening, maybe you shouldn’t go to class today. You have yet to decide if you’ll team up with the others. The bloodshed has already begun. It would be wise to stay in hiding until you come up with some sort of plan.” Archer has a point, but I’m my father’s daughter. I will not cower in fear.

  “I refuse to sit back and hide in my room like a scared little girl, hoping the Boogeyman doesn’t find me under the covers. It’s disgraceful. Like it or not, I’m in this war now. Whoever attacked Kirito will pay. I’m all in.”

  I take another detour to Quinn’s room, but of course, he wasn’t there. Instead, Goliath is there, waiting outside his door with his beefy arms folded in front of him and the same stoic look on his face. Used to me stopping by, he was probably waiting on me to show up.

  “Yeah, I know what you’re going to say. He’s not here. Blah, blah, blah. Try again later, blah blah. Well, I have a message for him this time. You tell that asshole, he better show his charming face today or he no longer has a sister,” I threaten, slapping the jingle bell Quinn gave me in his hand. Once Quinn sees it, he’ll know I’m serious. Giving a gift back to a harlequin is considered disrespectful, but for me, it’s a message without words. One that says I have a grievance with him and he better sort it out.

  Turning on my heel, I leave the big bastard to go relay my message to Quinn. I know he knows where he is and is not telling me. Probably following orders from my brother. I don’t know what’s going on with Quinn, but he has to know that he’s hurting me by avoiding me like this. This academy is making us all crazy. It’s twisted him into the worst being ever. Fucked up and unrecognizable. I fear soon I won’t know the person he’s become and can’t help thinking that if we would have never come here, I’d still have a brother. If that’s the case, then Leslie was playing the long game all along and is close to accomplishing what she has always wanted. Quinn finally giving up on me.

  By the time I get to my first class of the morning, I’m the last to enter. Thinking the seat I consider mine would still be open, I trot over there just to stop in my tracks. Instead of an empty desk, next to a grumpy Zion, is some chick I never seen before, leaning over in the chair having a very flirty conversation with him. What’s surprising is that it’s not one-sided either. The bastard is actually smiling. I didn’t even know he was capable of the act. Jealousy rears its ugly head practically consuming me whole. Who the fuck is this chick and why is she in my seat?

  And, of course, she’s beautiful. Stunning actually. To be able to catch his attention, she would have to be. Long mahogany hair, a face of an angel with a set of beautiful violet eyes. She’s fashionable dressed in a designer sweater dress that showcases her long toned legs perfectly. She exudes confidence, a quality I don’t have as I’m still unsure about myself, but that’s not important right now. What I want to know is where the fuck did this Barbie doll come from?

  “Do you mind?” she sneers, finally acknowledging me standing here. Briefly, she looks me up and down, but she must find me lacking when she turns back to Zion with a flip of her hair. Zion spares me a slight glance before frowning and turning his attention back to his lovely companion, whose stuck up ass is ignoring me.

  “Actually, I do mind. You’re in my seat.”

  “I’m sorry, is your name on it? I wasn’t aware this academy had assigned seating like we’re kindergarteners?” she quips.

  “We don’t, but I’ve been sitting here, so it’s my seat.” I’m aware I’m causing a scene, and yeah, if I weren’t jealous as hell right now, I would have let it go and taken another seat, but now, since I’ve started this little disagreement, it’s on me to finish.

  “Look, whoever you are, this may have been your seat before, but it’s not anymore, so get lost.”

  No, she didn’t. My cheeks flush with heat and a buzzing sound rings in my ears. I can feel my power building, my eyes start to glow as I slowly lose control over my powers. That new shit I opened up is bursting at the seams, ready to wreak havoc on this poor unfortunate soul in Prada. Grinding my teeth, I slam my palms flat on the desk, ready to do something very bad when I’m yanked back from behind.

  “Fucking hell, let me go,” I scream, swinging and kicking my feet.

  “Shh, beautiful, let’s not kill the new girl on the first day,” Oliver whispers in my ear.

  “I’m not new, you ass. I’m Zion’s fiance,” she screeches.

  Fiance? Since when? All the fight drains out of me and I go limp in Oliver’s hold. “Come on, love, sit next to me.” I let him lead me away. I think I’m still in some kind of state of shock. Hurt and betrayal stab at my heart repeatedly like it’s using it for target practice. Tenderizing the poor thing until it’s nothing more than beaten meat, too pitiful to consume. We sit beside each other, way on the other side of the room. I guess he chose here to sit to keep me away from temptation. Guess I’m not the only one who realized I was losing control of myself. Must be the bond they told me about. “Would you like for me to kill that girl?” Archer asks.

  “Tempting offer, but for now, she can live. Maybe later I’ll change my mind.” There’s nothing guaranteeing I won’t launch myself out my seat and go full ham on their asses. My reaction is full blown crazy, I know. Before, I couldn’t even stand Zion, but now, since I’ve decided I like him, he has become forbidden fruit. Life is so fucking unfair.

  “Since when does Zion have a fiance?” I ask Oli quietly, so only he can hear.

  “They were together before she transferred to the academy in London. I’m not sure what their deal is now since she’s back.” Not really an answer, but it’s not like Zion corrected her, so I guess I have my answer, even if it’s not the one I want.

  For the rest of class, I keep my eyes front, focusing only on the teacher and my notes. If I keep it up, I’d be the perfect student. I’d do anything to get my mind off the obvious tension in the room. We did another experiment today, dealing with levitation and with Oli as my partner, I was able to forget about Zion for a while. As soon as class was over, I shot out the door like my ass was on fire. I rather not have to deal with the happy couple or see them interact with one another. In fact, let me burn my eye sockets out now and save myself the heartache.

  With my morning ruined, today is destined to be a shit day, but I’m happy to see it’s not all bad when I behold a much better and healthier looking Kirito in class. “Hey there, kitten. Looking hot as always,” he says as soon as he sees me.

  “Shouldn’t you be resting and not in class? I went by your room this morning and you weren’t there.”

  “Aww, were you worried about me?” he teases, leaning over his desk with a devilish smirk on his face. Unconsciously, I lean toward him. If I wanted, I could close the distance completely and kiss him. After this morning, I could use a pick me up. It would be the perfect balm to my wounded heart. The only thing stopping me is the room filled with nosy mages watching our every move. Rumors have already started over my earlier encounter with the fiance. So what if I add to them?

  “You almost died on my bed, so yes, I was worried.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” A sadness crosses his usually lighthearted face and it tugs at my heartstrings.

  “Goddess no, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault some sicko tried to kill you. I’m glad you came to me.” I want to say more, but we’re not alone. No one hides that they’re spying on us. One boy nearly falls out of his seat from leaning over too far. Nosy bastards. I wish they would all disappear. Too bad I don’t have that power.

  As if he can read my thoughts, Kirito smiles at me and I eat it up, falling deep into his perfection. I would have loved to hold onto this happy feeling, but then she walks through the door in all her perfection like she owns the place and that perfect feeling shatters to a million pieces. “Great,” I mutter. “She’s in this class too.” I wonder what took her so long to get here? Was she making out in the halls with Zion? I must be a glutton for punishment. For my own sanity, I need to
stop thinking about them and worry about myself.

  “Ahh, I see you met Violet.”

  “Is that her name? How unoriginal. I wonder why Zion never mentioned he had a fiance.”

  “I’m wounded, kitten,” he says dramatically, holding his hand to his heart. “You sound jealous.”

  “I’m not jealous. I’m not,” I repeat when he gives me a look that clearly says he doesn’t believe me. “I was just taken by surprise, that’s all.”

  “Zion and Violet’s story is a complicated one. They’re families are close and they were practically thrown together as babies. A wedding contract was made by Zion’s father and they were supposed to get married last year.”

  “So what happened?” I ask, curious.

  “She changed her mind, I guess. After Zion’s sister was killed, he hasn’t been the same. Grief plays a huge toll on a relationship, especially if one of the parties is super shallow like Violet. Without giving a reason, she called off the engagement and transferred to the mage academy in London.”

  “If she was the one to call it off, then why is she here? Why does she keep saying she’s his fiance?”

  “Who knows with Violet. She’s always been a fickle one. Maybe things didn’t work out how she liked back in London or maybe she ran off. Milo is looking into why she’s here.”

  “You guys don’t trust her?” I ask the obvious.

  “Fuck no. Her timing of it all is a little too convenient. If it were up to me, I’d send her scrawny ass packing. She really hurt Zion leaving the way she did when he needed her. I know you think he’s an emotionless asshole, but he’s been through a lot and because of it, he doesn’t trust easily.”

  I hate that. I hate that he was hurting and she just trotted off for greener pastures instead of being there for her man. The more I learn about Violet, the more I’d like to make a doll in her image and torture her with it. She wouldn’t be so perfect looking without an arm or leg. And poor Zion. No wonder why he’s always walking around here like an alpha asshole. To lose someone as close as a sibling is just plain awful. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost Quinn.

  When the teacher walks in, we settle down as she begins her lecture. Deep in thought, I rest my chin in my hand and stare out of the window. I don’t notice Mr. Meow until Kirito nudges me and tilts his head in his direction. What the hell is my crazy ass familiar up to now? Curious, I watch with rapt fascination as he trots right over to Violet with his tail high in the air like he’s the King of Sheba. He must not like her in his territory as much as I do.

  “What’s up with your furry companion?” Kirito asks and I shrug. I have no clue what’s going on. Mr. Meow is a being of his own. Trying to control him is like trying to control the weather. It’s not going to happen. Not even me, his so-called master. He does whatever the hell he wants, like last night when he put me under a spell to save Kirito. I never knew he was capable of controlling me like that.

  Stopping at Violet’s feet, he walks in between her legs innocently at first, rubbing his furry head against her. If the God of Chaos was alive, then Mr. Meow would definitely be its offspring, because the things he does are priceless, and always gets a reaction of epic proportions out of people in all the worst of ways. Slightly horrified and internally cheering him on, because let’s face it, I really don’t like the bitch, I watch him lift his leg and pee on Sugar Plum Barbie’s pretty designer Prada heels.

  “Eek,” she screeches. “Why you little pest, you’ll pay for that,” she threatens, kicking Mr. Meow’s side like he’s a soccer ball and he goes flying across the room, hitting the wall with a loud thump and a pitiful cry.

  My reaction is immediate. Ignoring the pain, I don’t even think twice about it when like a blur. I’m there, grabbing Miss Perfect by the neck and full out run slamming her onto the nearest wall. I was angry with her before, but now. I’m fucking furious. The red rage button in my chest is broken, stuck in the on position. I slam her again and again with a strength that should be impossible. Her power lashes out at me, trying to push me back, but it’s nothing compared to mine, made even stronger by my anger.

  “Do you think it’s funny to hurt someone’s familiar? Do you feel big and bad for picking on an animal smaller than you?” I growl, slamming her again. My hand tightens around her throat and only the sound is of her choking, and desperately gasping for breath. “I should fucking kill you. Wipe your skanky ass from existence.”

  “Miss Boudreaux, that’s quite enough. Let her go, now,” Miss Mapletree orders and I throw my head back and laugh this insane laugh, showing just how far gone I really am. Instead of complying, I do the opposite and slam the bitch against the wall so hard, she coughs blood. Everyone knows you can’t reason with crazy.

  Violet’s legs kick at me almost comical. In my palm, her neck feels so thin. Insignificant, like a skinny twig waiting to be snapped. I could do it. I could end her now. Wipe her off the face of the earth. It’s not like I can get in trouble for killing her and clearly, she’s no match for me. We’re so intune to each other now after his brush with death, and as if he could read my thoughts, Kirito’s voice rings in my head like a warning bell.

  “Either kill her, kitten, or let her go, but make a decision and quickly.”

  Through the haze, I hear him loud and clear, and the meaning behind the trepidation in his words. The edgy tone to his voice. No one knows why she’s here. They are all wary of her, but killing her outright is not an option with so many unknowns, which is the only reason why she’s still breathing. Letting her go, she drops like lead to the floor, and I take my seat like nothing happened. Mr. Meow is fine, laid out on my desk and I pick him up, sitting him on my lap and pet his soft fur to reassure myself he’s fine.

  “Good decision,” Kirito praises. For now, I’ll simmer my rage, but this isn’t over yet. Far from it.

  Chapter 21

  Angelica

  The rest of the day flies by as I stay in my foul mood. Of course, Quinn didn’t show up for our free period, which means he’s not taking my threat of disowning him seriously. Maybe it’s a good thing he skipped out on me again. The way I feel, I probably would have tried to murder him.

  After hearing about what happened in class, the twins tried to cheer me up, but no such luck. Kirito didn’t have to tell them what happened, they already heard from the busy bodies in this school. I wonder what they all used to gossip about before I started going here? And all the different versions of the story is almost comical, like they’re all playing a demented game of telephone. Some portray me as the hero, others a jealous cow. If the rumors had any merit, it stands to believe that Violet and Zion are the academy’s golden couple and I’m the power hungry tramp trying to break them up. What a bunch of bull. Petty lies made by petty people.

  I thought Zion would confront me. I almost wanted him to so I can get off what’s on my chest, but I haven't seen him or Milo, who I suspect is still investigating the reason behind Violet’s return.

  Opening another book I borrowed from the library, I search the records on Violet Bishop and her family line. Besides finding out she’s rated thirteenth, there’s nothing much to be found on the Bishops. There was a small little section where her ancestor was one of the first witches to be executed in the Salem Witch Trials, but nothing pertinent. Her family line is suspiciously uninteresting, which only makes me wonder how on earth they’re important enough to be family friends with the Hawthornes. Close enough for Zion’s father to marry off his only heir to. It just doesn’t make any sense. I may be somewhat clueless about the mage world, but I know all about its politics. Making connections and marrying into a strong mage family is one of the only things they care about, second to producing a strong male heir. That is all Leslie would lecture me about, claiming it’s the only thing I’m good for. If it were up to her, she would have married me off like cattle long ago to get me out of her hair. Thank fuck, harlequin communes are patriarchy and it’s not her decision but my father’s.

 
With a loud huff, I close the book. I’m not going to get any answers there. Giving up, I decide to do something mundane to get my mind off my problems. I need a break from thinking about Zion’s shady mail order bride and the jealousy eating at me. Gathering my growing pile of dirty laundry together, I throw it all in an old duffle bag and carry it down to the basement. I could have had Archer carry it for me, but the domesticated Indian would have raised questions, so I thought it better to have him stay in my room until I return. I’m doubtful anyone will try to attack me today. They’re all too busy gossiping and waiting on Zion to defend his girlfriend’s honor.

  I never been to the basement before, but it’s exactly how I imagined it to be in a building this old. Dark, cold, and drafty. My other senses aren’t tingling, so it’s not haunted. I guess the mages who died here don’t hang around to haunt the laundry room. I’m not surprised. Most of them don’t even do their own laundry and use the service provided. Quinn has that luxury, but Leslie didn’t even offer it to me. I could have asked my father, but I like that I’m not spoiled or superficial. A little work doesn’t bother me, plus it’s just plain dumb to trust others with your personal belongings. Just look at what I can do with a strand of hair.

  No matter how light I walk, the stairs still let out an annoying groaning sound as I walk down them. The space is a nice size, considered unfinished since not all the walls are up with the exposed framing and some you can see the pink insulation. I’m sure the brick walls that are up date back to the original structure of the building, but the smooth cement floor must have been repaved recently. On one side are two rows of high end washing machines and along the other, a row of industrial size stainless steel dryers. In the middle, connected together, are stainless steel tables to fold your laundry, each with its own little laundry cart on wheels. Further in the back is the room the laundry service uses where you drop off your dirty laundry and once clean, they’ll deliver your things pressed and folded to your room. Sitting by itself is a little lounge area with a nice size flat screen bolted to the wall. They even have a little magazine rack.