by Everly Frost
Fuck. It’s Ashley.
She suddenly grabs her practicing post, both hands pressed against the wood, her fingernails digging into it as if she wants to gouge its surface. At the next post past her—the one Peyton just took up position at—Lucinda’s head suddenly snaps up, a pained gasp on her lips. She clutches her chest, her eyes widening with pain as she focuses on Ashley.
Ashley twitches, seeming unaware of everything around her. Panic floods her expression as she stares at the post. She’s facing outward and Lachlan is directly in her line of sight. Such pure fear for her fills his eyes that it makes my head spin. Dammit. He can’t be in love with her. Love can’t survive in this place. He knows Ms. Hawk will kill Ashley.
Lachlan spins, a shout dying on his lips when he sees me coming already. The guys hate me, but they know I’m the only one who can save them.
I tell myself to be calm. I know what to do.
The second flicker is as unobtrusive as the first, a quick glimmer and only visible if seen from the right angle. Ms. Hawk’s back is turned. She’s focused on the students on the combat mat, but the compliance officer nearest to Ashley’s post squints in her direction.
It’s time for me to be aggressive, unpredictable Draven once again and knock Ashley out cold.
Hell, I’ll say she looked at me wrong. I’ll say Peyton pissed me off and I wanted to hit somebody, didn’t care who. I’ll tell them I don’t need a fucking reason.
I’m one pace away when Ashley gives another, stronger flash. Bright light flickers in a stream around her head and shoulders. For a second, her face changes, her skin becomes as luminescent as her bright eyes, and her hair…
Her hair…
I nearly don’t hit her because she is…
I shake my head. Blink hard. I block out what I can’t explain.
The compliance officer turns in her direction.
She’s out of time.
I raise my fist and swing it as hard as I can.
21. Peyton Price
I’ve just taken up position at my post when a flash of light on my left catches my eye. It came from Lachlan and Ashley’s post, but I’m sure it was a glint of sunlight, nothing more.
I settle my weight, concentrate on my swing and get in a good few hits before the light catches my eye again. I cast a sideways glance at Ashley. She’s hitting her post so hard that her knuckles leave bloody smears on it despite Lucinda’s magic.
Ashley’s face is a picture of concentration, fixated on the same spot. Every time she smacks the post, her body shimmers at the edges in a way that makes the air sizzle.
She must be accessing her magic, but it’s like nothing I’ve felt before. It’s sharp and dangerous and makes me feel like my feet are made of stone, rooted to the spot. Lucinda told me Ashley can freeze objects, stop things from moving, and that’s what this feels like—like I’m not in control of my body anymore.
A sudden small flash emits from her back and she drains as pale as death, even though her eyes remain brighter than they should be. She lurches forward, her hands gripping the practicing post in a way that tells me she can’t let go, just like when Joseph gripped the wooden table on my first night at Bloodwing.
It’s the first flicker fit anyone’s had since then.
I try not to make any sudden moves—if I do, I’ll draw Ms. Hawk’s attention. I casually shift from my post, although my heart rate speeds up.
A glance past Ashley tells me Striker is heading straight for her. I’m closer, but I don’t have his strength yet. I can’t knock her out like he can. I should back away, but I… can’t…
My feet carry me to her side.
I reach her just as another stronger flash fills the space around her head and neck, but this one is slow, delayed, spreading out into space like it’s transcending through time. I’m close enough to feel it, close enough that it reaches out to strike my cheeks and my chest.
Ashley’s eyes meet mine. Hers are lit up, glittering like gems, and her skin has become translucent, the veins in her cheeks and neck twisting like delicate emerald threads beneath the surface of her skin. The golden strands of her hair begin clumping together, her tresses thickening and entwining, rising from her back as if they’re alive.
Her lips part and I hear her silent scream.
We’re caught in her flicker, but this moment won’t last forever and as soon as it ends… Ms. Hawk will kill her.
I sense Striker’s movement behind her, the swing of his arm, the perfectly aimed thump that will drive her head into the post and knock her out to stop her flicker fit in its tracks. I know he can take care of it, but her eyes…
They’re far too bright, far too deadly, and far too afraid. Within their depths, emerald threads writhe and sway. Unlike Lucinda’s eyes, which are ringed like the trunk of a tree, the shifting tones of Ashley’s swarm like a nest of vipers.
Her power is definitely more than telekinesis. It must be connected to her eyes, just like Lucinda’s comes from her heart.
I move in a flash, pressing my hand over Ashley’s face. “Close your eyes. Be calm. Control it.”
She inhales. Calms. The flicker stops instantly.
Her knees wobble before she drops to the grass, her hands flying up to cover her eyes as she slips out of my hold.
Everything speeds up again.
Ashley hits the ground, curled up tight and—
Smack.
Striker’s fist cuts clean across the empty space, knocking me against the post. Pain explodes across my jaw. I sense my lip split. He was angling for the back of Ashley’s head, but his fist caught me right in the middle of my face. I bounce off the post and land on my backside with a roar of pain.
If I could bottle the look of horror that passes across Striker’s face, I’d sip happily from it for the rest of my damn life. I’ve never seen him look so sorry about anything.
Ms. Hawk spins to us, but the compliance officer is still staring at Ashley, telling me we need a major diversion right now.
“Draven!” I shout. “You fucking asshole!”
I launch to my feet, leap over Ashley, and shove him with both hands, driving him back into the compliance officer, who takes a tumble. Striker’s elbow happens to jam into the guy’s face as he regains his balance, making the officer bellow with rage. Striker rounds on him with a glare, as if the compliance officer got in his way and not the other way around.
Ms. Hawk’s dark hair flies out behind her as she races toward us, screeching, “Both of you! On to the mat. Now!”
I’m not waiting for the mat. Covering for Ashley, who remains curled up on the ground with her head tucked under her arms, I take a step toward Striker, landing a perfect fist on his chin.
His head snaps back and he reacts on instinct, his fist shooting back at me but I dodge it, dancing out of his way before I dart in and clip his temple hard enough to draw blood.
He retaliates with a roar and another fist, which I also dodge.
Everyone around us scatters. Lucinda reacts just like I hoped she would—dragging Ashley out of the way. The other students follow but it’s clear from their confused faces and shouts that they don’t know what’s going on. The confusion will give Ashley the precious moments she needs to regain full control.
There’s no time right now to consider her power further. I’m flat-out avoiding a pummeling.
The compliance officers don’t care about the other students now. They’re focused on Striker and me. Especially since we disobeyed a direct order. Wands out, they’re waiting for the order from Ms. Hawk, but a glance in her direction tells me she’s been waiting for Striker and me to go head to head again.
The cruel smile she gives me tells me she’s happy to get her wish.
Striker gives up trying to land a blow and tackles me, lifting me off my feet and throwing me across his shoulder. I’m ready for that move, closing my fists together and ramming them down on his shoulder. I follow up with an elbow to his face, but—dammit—he still doesn’t release me.
I prepare for him to throw me across the mat, ready my body to tumble and roll, relaxing into it. He hits the edge of the raised combat platform. The jolt is all I need. I push backward, neatly planting my hands in a backward handstand, kicking his face as I go.
He roars at me again as I flip to my feet.
I shake my head at him, enjoying the rare height advantage I have from up here. “C’mon, Draven. Is that all you’ve got?”
He storms up the platform and neatly dodges my next fist. Capturing my hand, he shocks me when he leans in with a cool gleam in his eye that tells me his rage is all for show.
Beneath the diversionary façade, he’s as cool as ice. “When this is over, just remember that you asked me to touch you, Price.”
A shiver runs down my spine. I guess this means the no-touching truce is over.
He blocks the next fist I throw, grabs my wrist, and drags his hand down my arm. His touch is firm but not hurtful, his fingers sliding across my skin. I raise my knee to aim a kick at his stomach at close quarters, but he deflects that too, hooking his arm under my thigh, his hand splaying across the sensitive skin at the top and back of my leg in a way that sends all the wrong signals through my body. He hoists me up off the ground, nearly straddling him, one arm under my backside, pulling me close.
The last time we were in this position, he dropped me on my head. I’m not going to fall so easily this time.
I drop my weight to one side, leaning so far and so fast that it pulls him off-balance, but he swings with it, dropping to his knee. I end up straddling his upraised knee instead, trapped in the circle of his arms. One hand grips my right hip, and the other strokes up my back to my shoulder in a very confusing way.
All I can do is look for an escape. I lean back and roll, arching over his arm, but to my shock, he drags his free hand all the way from my hip up my chest between my breasts to my neck, following the curve of my chest as I arch.
I gasp. What the hell is he doing?
This isn’t fighting.
His amber eyes are backlit with flame but anyone else would think it’s the bright sunlight glinting off his eyes.
My body laps up his touch, but my thoughts are in a spin.
Dear ancients, what did he say to me moments ago? Remember that you asked me to touch you.
Not like this. I wasn’t expecting this.
I drop to the mat and barely make it to my feet, backing away before he comes after me again. He reaches for my waist, deflecting my fist when I try to strike him, stroking down my arm in a way that makes me shiver. I try to hit him with my other hand, but he grabs it too. Before I know it, his palms graze all the way down my arms and chest, curling around my hips again.
He leans in close and whispers, “I could touch you all day, Peyton, but we need to end this. You ready?”
The silence around us is thick. I’m aware of Ms. Hawk’s narrowed eyes, but there’s a cruel twist to her lips. The last time Striker lured me into a false sense of security, he knocked me out for hours. She’s expecting the same now.
He steps back and swings at me, quick and sharp, but my skills have improved a thousand times after daily practice for the last five months. I evade the blow and follow up with a kick that he also avoids. His fist jabs again, but I block, quickly retaliating.
For the next two minutes, we trade blows, each one fiercer than the last, each one deflected. Our fists blur, faster and faster, neither one of us doing any damage, until we both finally land a hit at the same time, the impact spinning us away from each other.
We rise to our feet, paces apart.
Both our chests are heaving.
I swipe at the blood trickling from my split lip.
He drags at the blood dripping from his temple.
With a smile, I realize that he didn’t hold back just now. His breathing is as rapid as mine. We circle each other, but even Ms. Hawk seems to realize that Striker and I are too evenly matched. There is no victory for her today.
She stares at us with wide eyes before she shakes herself, her blue eyes blazing as she screams, “Get off the mat! Everyone back to your posts.”
With a last cautious look at Striker, I head back to my place, casually checking over Ashley and Lucinda. Ashley’s in control again, a calm expression on her face, but Lucinda glances at me in a way that tells me we need another shower conversation. On the other side of her, Bree looks as confused as everyone else. Striker and I haven’t voluntarily fought for a long time and as far as they could see, he picked a fight out of the blue.
His gaze burns my back when I leave gym class to follow Lucinda, Ashley, and Bree straight to girls’ floor. I grab a pack of ice for my lip on the way.
When we reach the shower, Ashley is subdued, but Bree demands to know what’s going on. She plants her hands on her hips. “You took a swipe at Striker like you have a death wish. What the hell, Peyton?”
Lucinda turns on all the shower faucets, filling the room with white noise before she says, “Ashley had a flicker fit.”
Bree’s face falls. She curses. “No, Ashley! Are you okay?”
Ashley nods. “Only because of Peyton.” She turns to me. “How did you know I should close my eyes?”
I take a deep breath. “I’m going to tell you what I saw and then you can draw whatever conclusions you want.”
She nods cautiously.
I chew over my words. “Your eyes were lit up emerald and the light shifted inside them as if they were made up of threads. Your skin was pale, the veins in your face ran green, and your hair… was turning into…” I close my eyes, trying to hide my disbelief. “Your hair was becoming snakes.”
Ashley recoils. “Snakes!”
I nod. “I know what I saw.”
Ashley spins to Lucinda. “Did you see it, too?”
Lucinda shakes her head. “I can’t see through flicker fits. They’re too bright.”
The girls stare at me again, but I pin Ashley with my own glare. “You need to acknowledge what you are. Then you’ll understand why you had to close your eyes.”
She’s paler than before. Her hands shake as she presses them to her mouth. “But it’s not possible. I can’t be...”
I step up to her. “The teachers think you have the power to freeze things. What you really have… is the power to turn living things to stone.”
She stumbles backward but Lucinda catches her, holding Ashley tightly before whirling toward me. “A gorgon? Are you serious?”
“One of the deadliest creatures,” I say. “A power like no other.”
Ashley shakes her head in denial. “But I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“I know you don’t.” I sigh. Ashley is one of the gentlest girls at the Academy, even more so than Lucinda. The day she stood up to tell me that they tried to bring me in from the rain took a lot of guts on her part. “Tell me what happened when you closed your eyes.”
Her lip quivers. “Um… I…” She frowns suddenly. “I could still see everything, but my vision was bright, like all the shapes around me glimmered at the edges.”
“Then you’re only deadly if you open your eyes.”
She lets out a laugh, nearing on panic. “I need a really good pair of sunglasses.”
I take her hands, forcing her to look at me. “You’ll learn to control it, just like Lucinda has.”
Lucinda nods rapidly. “I’ll help you. We can go outside in the mornings and practice on those awful rose bushes. I might be a dryad, but those plants aren’t natural. I’d like to see some of them turned to stone.”
A tear slides down Ashley’s cheek. “How did this happen? Why am I like this?”
Lucinda shakes her head. “How am I a dryad when I have wolf shifter parents? Our genetics are completely messed up.”
I sigh. “Or perfectly aligned.”
Bree frowns at me. “What do you mean?”
“The original gorgons…” I say. “There were three of them, right? Sisters? People were terrified of them because
they didn’t look human—they couldn’t hide their power. But you can, Ashley. You can transform from human to gorgon.”
I swing to Lucinda. “Lucinda, you’re a dryad. If you accessed your full power, I bet your hair would turn to vines and your legs into tree roots. But you walk around like everybody else. And Bree…” I shake my head at her. “There’s no way you’re a simple water mage.”
Bree has remained quiet for the last minute. “I feel close to the water. I like being near it, but I can’t control it. The teachers were wrong about Ashley and Lucinda, so maybe they’re wrong about me too.”
Lucinda draws Bree into a hug, dragging her and Ashley close. “We’ll figure it out.”
They look at me and Lucinda reaches for me past Ashley’s shoulder, as if she wants me to join their hug. I take a deep breath and step into it, worried I’ll feel awkward, but they’re all quiet and unassuming. I’m not used to hugs, don’t really know where to start, but here seems like a good place.
I don’t speak aloud my deeper fears. There’s a general belief among the supernatural community that the magically repressed have the power of other mainstream supernatural races, but Lucinda and Ashley have proven they have rare and unique abilities. They aren’t a repressed witch and a repressed telekinetic. Not even close.
They’re something else.
I have to face the question that could be the key to understanding our true nature: What if the magically repressed aren’t repressed at all?
What if we’re a different class of supernatural altogether?
A class of supernatural with no aura who appear human… A perfectly lethal type of supernatural. The Founder wants us to be her soldiers. What if she suspects that we have these abilities and wants to use them for her own means?
I shudder. As far as I know, only the Valkyrie and Keres were able to appear completely human—before they became extinct that is. They had no aura and could transform at will. They could walk among supernaturals without detection, which made them deadly. It was only because they went to war with each other that they died out.
Yet here we are. Magically repressed students with no aura who can transform into… I shy away from thinking of myself as a potential monster. I don’t know what I am yet. And there’s no way I think of Ashley that way. She’s one of the sweetest people I know.