Magic Trials

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Magic Trials Page 9

by Meg Xuemei X


  No matter how he pulled up his bad boy charm, it wouldn’t touch me. I shored up the steel walls of my will, checking my defenses against his charisma and my newly raging libido.

  “So that’s how it’s going to be now?” Paxton asked. “You two let a woman divide us? You know how it will end.”

  “Back off, Paxton,” Axel said. “I won’t say it again. Marigold has had enough today, so stop being a dick.”

  “Chill out, Paxton,” Zak also said.

  Paxton stepped back. “For now, I’ll leave her alone.”

  “You all can address me directly,” I said hotly. “I’m in the room.”

  If they thought they were above me, I was more than happy to shatter their illusions. No one was above anyone. That was basic courtesy.

  “You absorbed my lightning power, Marigold,” Zak said.

  I had felt energized since he’d sent his lightning to caress me while we were kissing, almost as if it’d restored me after the draining power of the fire.

  Had he kissed me to test me?

  But his kiss and touch had been more than that. I’d felt his raw desire and hunger as intense as Axel’s.

  Theodore coughed from a few paces away.

  “Pardon me, demigods,” Theodore said. “If you’re all done kissing or talking about kissing, we need to focus on finding out from whom the girl descends.”

  “Let’s see what she’s got,” Paxton said almost viciously.

  If I belonged to his house, he’d have jurisdiction over me, so I prayed that whatever power I had, it had nothing to do with Poseidon.

  Axel picked me up again. Before I could lodge a protest, he’d carried me to his throne and put me down on it. Shock stilled my tongue. Even though no one was attending the demigods’ court now to see it, it felt like Axel was sharing his power with me—or at least regarded me as his equal, which, as far as I knew, a demigod had never done before.

  Or maybe it was just Axel’s way of apologizing to me.

  I blinked in confusion, bracing for the other demigods to object to me being on one of the thrones, but none of them seemed the least concerned.

  Oh, Theodore looked a bit taken aback at where I was, but he didn’t issue an opinion. He probably wouldn’t want to draw fire from the Demigod of War.

  “Cookie,” Axel said, his tone cajoling.

  I frowned at him for giving me the nickname Cookie, even if I liked cookies a bit too much. Who wouldn’t? Especially macaroons, which were an absolutely sinful indulgence.

  Zak arched an eyebrow at the name. Paxton snorted through his snooty nose as if to say he regarded me as anything but a sweet, delicious Cookie.

  Axel smiled at me disarmingly, but I didn’t buy it.

  “We need to see the symbols on you to know which house you belong to,” Axel said.

  I didn’t want any of them to see, but it was inevitable. They had to know my bloodline.

  I shrugged off his trench coat. My robe was in tatters.

  I gazed down at the space between my left shoulder blade and left breast, but I didn’t spot any symbols.

  “There’s nothing,” I said in shock.

  “There’s nothing on her skin,” Theodore echoed his surprise.

  “But we saw all twelve runes imprint when the flame burned her,” Zak said. “Maybe the symbols settled somewhere else on her person.”

  On a place where the sun didn’t shine? I nearly snickered.

  Of course, they would demand to examine my body to search for a symbol, any symbol, and I couldn’t fend off all of them if they were really determined. Besides, I wanted to know if there was any foreign mark on my body, too.

  I pulled the scraps of the robe down to my waist, and all three demigods stared at my breasts point blank instead of looking for the symbol they were supposed to find.

  They hadn’t even glanced at other female initiates’ breasts when they showed theirs—okay, except Demetra’s perfect ones.

  I glared at them. “Not like I have three tits, guys.”

  A hand moved toward my breast, and to my surprise, it belonged to Saint Theodore.

  “Fuck off, Theodore,” Axel snarled, shoving the saint away. “Who gave you permission to touch Marigold?”

  Both Zak and Paxton growled at the priest threateningly as well.

  Theodore stumbled back and raised his hands in a gesture of yielding.

  “I don’t share the same interest that you have in Marigold,” he protested. “There isn’t a burn mark on her skin. Not even a blister, despite how hard the flame ravaged her. I just want to touch her skin to make sure what I see is real.”

  “You’re lucky we even let you look,” Axel grated.

  I quickly glanced down at my skin. It was golden, tanned, and as smooth as silk.

  “Like the view, gentlemen?” I snickered as I noticed that their eyes still glued to my breasts. “Are you going to keep staring at my breasts or start helping me look for any hidden symbols?”

  Axel chuckled. “My Cookie.”

  The demigods tore their eyes from my breasts and started examining the rest of my body with grumpy attitudes.

  “This kitten doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut,” Paxton said as he moved behind me to check my back. “We’ll have to tame her first if we want to make her ours.”

  What? Tame me? Theirs?

  Had he meant that they would share me and make me their plaything? That would happen when Hell froze.

  “I’m not yours,” I said.

  “Not yet,” Zak said positively.

  “You’re certainly welcome to try,” I said. “Your fantasy will come true when the sun truly shines out of your asses.”

  Axel laughed like he didn’t believe I was serious.

  Would I want to be funny after I’d just been burned? The demigods could be really apathetic and self-centered, even the young Demigod of War. I bet those qualities were their gods’ family traits.

  If I were ever up to the job, I might just be the woman who could teach all of them a lesson.

  Zak shook his head, but didn’t say anything more.

  Paxton, however, wasn’t even slightly amused at my rude analogy. “Is that a challenge?” he asked in a flat tone that contained more than a little menace.

  Zak and Axel shot him a warning look.

  “I won’t just bend you, Princesa,” Paxton continued, ignoring Zak and Axel. “I’ll break you. You might have my two cousins wrapped around your little fingers with your exotic looks, but neither of them will be able to stop me if you get on my bad side—I’ll take you out, mortal. And you haven’t met the heartless Demigod of Death. No man or woman can bewitch him. No one touches him and lives.”

  Princesa meant princess in Spanish. The Demigod of Sea was mocking me. I was as far from a princess as anyone could get. I was raised in the streets, in the hood. Paxton was simply reminding me that I was a street rat by calling me princess. I bet Axel had briefed his demigod cousins about where he’d rounded me up.

  “Will you stop terrorizing Marigold?” Axel challenged back. “You know I’m on her side.”

  Paxton graced Axel with a glance. “Even Zak takes your side since the two of you share the same house, but Héctor will always be in my corner. And I want you two to remember we agreed not to fight over a woman.”

  “I might have lavender hair,” I said in a snide tone as I shoved a fist into the air, “but my look is far from exotic. It’s an everyday, regular girl’s look. And secondly—”

  Axel pulled my fist down. “Don’t aggravate him while you’re still in a delicate state, Cookie,”

  “Don’t put her and Paxton alone in a room,” Zak declared. “And we’ll avert a disaster.”

  Theodore frowned deeply as he wheeled around me, still trying to locate a symbol of a god’s power on my skin or maybe wait for it to appear.

  “She might not even be a mortal,” the priest said. “No mortal could live through channeling divine fire. Even a demigod can’t take it alone. The ru
nes with the combined powers of the twelve major gods would leave an imprint on a god as well.”

  “Are you saying she’s above us?” Paxton snarled. “Be careful with your words.”

  Theodore startled. “Of course not. That’s blasphemy. As your priest, I’d never commit such a sin. However, Marigold is the first unknown to us. An utter mystery. What I’m saying is she could be an immortal, but to find out what she really is, we may have to wait for time to tell. Her powers will eventually manifest, and then we’ll decide what to do with her.”

  I felt a chill down my spine. What were they going to do with me if they decided I wasn’t what they were looking for?

  “I don’t think we’re ever going to find a rune mark or any symbol of any god’s house on me,” I said, pulling Axel’s trench coat tightly around me. “Which only means one thing.”

  “What is that, Cookie?” Axel asked in concern.

  “Yeah, what is that, Princesa?” Paxton asked arrogantly as he returned to standing in front of me with his arms folded across his chest.

  I smirked, feeling victorious for the first time since the Dominions had rounded up my team and me.

  I’d defied their rules.

  I’d confused all three demigods and their priest.

  Axel had forced me to come here. Paxton and Zak had refused to listen to reason when I’d pleaded with them. They’d screwed me big, and I screwed them right back, giving them no answers and no satisfaction.

  I wasn’t sure if it was because I was so stubborn that I’d beat the demigods at their own game or because I was something else that granted me the power to cancel out the runes.

  The important thing was: these assholes couldn’t figure me out.

  I hoped they never would.

  “It means I don’t come from the Olympian gods’ bloodlines,” I said giddily. “I don’t belong to any of your houses since I’m not a descendant, unlike the surviving initiates and your Dominion soldiers. You have no right to hold me here. You must release me immediately!”

  “Like hell we’ll ever let you go,” Zak said. The sudden possessiveness in his voice took me aback.

  “But I don’t belong in Half-Blood Academy,” I shouted. “If you want me to stay, you can send me to the Other Academy. I’ll fit right in there.” I wanted to be with Jasper and Circe, the only family I had. “As Saint Theodore said,” I continued, lowering my voice a little at the demigods’ dark looks, “I’m clearly not exactly a human. But since I’m not your kind either, I must be some other kind, something like a witch. I’ll just pack my stuff and go to the Other Academy.”

  I didn’t have any stuff. I’d be just packing myself.

  I jumped up from Axel’s throne, but Zak caught me.

  He held my chin with his thumb and forefinger. “You’ll stay with us. We’ll train you in person to make your power manifest. We’ll help you figure it out.”

  I stared at the demigods in dismay while Paxton offered me a villainous smile.

  I had a terrible feeling they’d never leave me alone and they’d never let me go, no matter what.

  CHAPTER 8

  _____________

  I was sharing a dormitory with seven other girls.

  Fortunately, Demetra didn’t share the room with us. If she had, I would never have slept with both eyes closed. But Demetra and her minions holed up in the dorm across the hallway from us.

  The two girls whose bunk bed was nearest the door were second-year students. Four other first-years had been enrolled four months ago, so Yelena and I seemed to have a lot to catch up on and a big gap to shorten.

  However, I didn’t feel the pressure as much as my friend did. I was probably the only one in the Academy who had no ambition to be at the top of the class—or even to graduate—or to catch the demigods’ eyes.

  I didn’t mind failing an exam. Actually, I aimed for failing.

  I was born a hunter, not some Dominion drone who put up with all sorts of crap and took orders from every shitty jerk above my rank.

  I definitely had issues with authority.

  The demigods were welcome to kick me out at anytime or kiss my ass.

  My bunkmates insisted on me showing them my mark. Finally, I caved. We weren’t senior-year students, so we weren’t granted a private bathroom. They’d catch me naked in the public bath chamber eventually.

  “You don’t have any symbol on your skin, Marigold,” one of my bunkmates, Autumn, cried in alarm. “Everyone receives a power symbol on their skin to indicate which god’s house they belong to. How come you didn’t get one, even though you survived the ritual?”

  “The demigods wondered the same thing,” I said drily. “For all I care what they think. Even Theodore couldn’t figure out shit.”

  “Looks to me like you don’t belong to any god’s house,” said Misty, a first-year girl who was a bit meaner than the others. “You’re lucky they haven’t kicked you out.”

  “I hope my luck runs out soon,” I said.

  Yelena held both of my hands in sympathy. I actually didn’t like people holding my hands like that, as if I needed loads of tissues to wipe my teary face, but she was trying to offer moral support.

  One did not dismiss kindness.

  “An icon will eventually show up on Marigold’s shoulder,” Yelena said, defending me. “She’s just one of those late bloomers.”

  “I heard the divine flame jumped on you.” Samantha, a second-year, sent me a pitiful look. “But no one knew what happened afterwards since the demigods kicked everyone out after you screamed bloody hell. What really happened?”

  The girls all pricked up their ears.

  I wasn’t going to confide in them. Not a damn thing. I definitely wasn’t going to tell them that two demigods kissed me and one threatened me.

  They weren’t my people.

  “Nothing really happened. The fire went out, and the priest sent me back here.” I yawned. “I’m going to call it a night. I have an early class tomorrow.”

  The last thing I wanted was for the whole Academy to know the ritual had probably turned me into a freak. Thankfully, my bunkmates, who had short attention span, soon lost interest in me.

  Yeah, I’d lived. Yet I had a bad feeling that surviving the flame was just the beginning of a series of bad things.

  First off, unlike everyone else, I didn’t get a power upgrade after the Ritual of the Blood Runes. I neither rose nor fell. I just got burned.

  I was also the only one who hadn’t had an orientation. And from what I’d learned so far, Yelena and I were the first years most likely to be treated as a snack between the teeth of the sharks in this predator-infested pool.

  Yelena squeezed my hands one last time before she returned to her own bunk. “The most important thing is that you passed the trial. No one thought you would survive the flame, but you did.”

  She meant that the clique talked shit about me afterwards. Yelena had briefed me on how Demetra had complained to no end about me holding up the demigods with my stinky stunt during the sacred ritual.

  Well, I’d love to give her the honor of having endured burning to catch the demigods’—or any god’s—attention. Demetra had been even more bitter that Axel had personally carried me to the bunk while I slept in his arms.

  I didn’t remember that the Demigod of War had delivered me here. I’d passed out at some point after the demigods’ bickering in the Hall of Olympia.

  “According to Demetra, they should have just put you in a wheelchair and had a junior escort you to the bunk room,” Yelena had said with laughter. “Everyone can see that the Demigod of War has a soft spot for you.”

  And I’d made an enemy out of the Demigod of Sea.

  But who gave a shit about the swimming boy?

  I lifted my fingers to count how many enemies I already had in this new school—Paxton, Demetra, their goons, and who else?

  I hoped all the bullies wouldn’t think to combine forces, but I had a foreboding feeling that they might. An army o
f bullies would come for my blood, led by a demigod.

  According to the intel gathered by Nat, who’d turned out to be a resourceful, good-looking gay man, Demetra had influence at the Academy because of her filthy rich family.

  Even though the demigods headed all the Half-Blood Academies, they didn’t exactly run the schools. They had no patience for or interest in any administrative duties.

  No, pretty much they just popped in and out of the Half-Blood academies all over the globe and focused most of their time on the war against the demons.

  Their favorite hangouts weren’t in the schools but in the war zones.

  It was rare that all four demigods were in one place at the same time, so everyone here in the North American academy was thrilled, especially all the girls.

  In less than twenty-four hours, I’d heard more gossip about the demigods than I’d heard in my past twenty years.

  As my thoughts drifted away, the girls were still eagerly arguing over which demigod was the hottest and betting on who would be lucky enough to be chosen as the demigods’ next lovers.

  Four out of the six girls voted for the death demigod as the sexiest and most mysterious hunk, but he was utterly unattainable, which made him even more sought-after.

  Suddenly, their talk piqued my interest.

  Paxton had said he and Héctor would unite against me. I needed to know more about my enemies, especially the one I hadn’t met.

  “Why is he unattainable?” I asked.

  “You don’t know anything about the demigods’ world, do you?” Neha, another first-year, asked. “Which rock have you been living under?”

  “My own rock?” I said.

  “Good thing you’ve finally crawled out from under it,” Neha snorted.

  “I was forced out,” I said. “I was quite comfortable living under the rocks, you know.”

  “You’re hopeless,” she said. “Why was I even talking to you?”

  “You’re still talking,” I said.

  “Yeah, just a warning: watch where you’re going,” she said.

  It wasn’t news that the new students were often treated as punching bags.

  Though most of the girls in this dormitory were also first-years, they were ahead of Yelena and me. They held to the military tradition that they had every right to treat the newbies however they saw fit. I’d already seen a new initiate get kicked in the head when an upperclassman was in a foul mood.

 

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