Rebel Academy: Crave: A Paranormal Academy Romance Series (Wickedly Charmed Book 1)

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Rebel Academy: Crave: A Paranormal Academy Romance Series (Wickedly Charmed Book 1) Page 7

by Rosemary A Johns


  My eyes narrowed. She wasn’t telling me something. I could feel it vibrating through my power of Confess, but she was clever at omitting the truth, which wasn’t the same as lying, no matter what parents teach.

  What was the Rebel Academy’s secret?

  Every time that Damelza had mentioned the academy, SECRET had flashed up in neon, along with an edgy blast of “Secret” by The Pierces. I didn’t always see the truth in words but sensations, smells, or creepy music chilling my bones.

  When I prowled towards Damelza, she backed away in surprise. “Hit me with another one of your motivational sayings. I can’t get enough of them.”

  Damelza puffed up. “They’re carved onto my study wall, and you’ll have a copy of the Rebel’s Mottos with your spell books at the start of term. But if you insist: Persevere even if you’re cursed—”

  “Gateway,” I blurted.

  Damelza became ashen, before she flew at me far faster than I’d ever seen anyone move. I yelped, as she rammed me across the courtyard, slamming me into the wall. Then she pinned me with her arm across my throat. My pulse pounded too loudly in my ears.

  Then I realized that someone was leaning on the wall next to me with half-lidded eyes. I almost forgot that I was being crushed by a witch because if sin had been brought to life, then this student would’ve found a way to make him wickedly sexier.

  Why were my pants so tight again…?

  The student smelled like coco and almonds. My tongue swiped across my lips, craving to dart across his and see if they tasted as delicious as he smelled. When he winked, I pinked because his gaze was too knowing.

  The black haired, alabaster skinned, ruby eyed...way too burningly beautiful incubus.

  He lounged in the academy uniform of pink blazer and tie with black pants, as well as long pink gloves like a sexy hook-up, rather than an Immortal. I could only tell that he was one of my new patrons by the I, which was embroidered on his blazer in a black crest.

  How long had he been standing in the shadows? Since I’d had my first kiss? Snuggled a werewolf? Started a feud with an all-powerful goddess?

  Wow, this had been a busy night.

  Then Damelza lowered her face so close that her nose was touching mine, and even Rebel Ghost and the Immortal naked together in a giant tub of rocky road ice cream couldn’t have distracted me from her. And I loved rocky road ice cream. “Who’s been talking to you of our secret Gateway?”

  I took a deep breath. “Oprah Winfrey, Benedict Cumberbatch, Merlin because that wizard is such a gossip…”

  The Immortal snorted with what sounded suspiciously like laughter, but Damelza’s eyes flashed electric pink.

  “Silence, Crave,” Damelza hissed, before shaking me. “Who?”

  Truth: Someone dies of a nasty case of boot to the balls tonight.

  I fiddled with my cuff links. “I’m blessed with the power of Confess, remember? I’m dedicated to the excellence of seeing through your lies.”

  The Immortal — Crave — definitely snickered that time.

  Damelza took a careful step away from me. Her pale face scrunched in concern. Well, wasn’t that interesting? “The first rule of the academy is that students aren’t allowed to use their powers on witch professors. We’ll all be wearing charms against your magic, which your mother has spent years perfecting.”

  I shoved my hands in my pockets to hide their shaking. Why would mum have bothered with that unless she’d always meant to send me here?

  I forced myself to smirk. “I hate to tell you that they’re not working.”

  Damelza brushed her hand across the feather at her ear, which must be the Anti-me Charm. “You weren’t expected until the morning. Now try to read this with your power of Confess: my academy has been the pride and joy of the House of Crows for generations. I only agreed to accept a mage like you because your mother offered to fund our dragon polo while you’re here.”

  I gaped at her. No one had ever asked me to read them before. What a time to discover that I had performance issues. Especially as I’d felt…nothing. There’d been no vibrations, sparks, or bursts of song.

  So, had it been the truth? Did that mean mum had bribed (even I wasn’t going to sugar-coat that one with a lie about donations), my way into the academy? The House of Jewels was known for buying its way into power. My hand in marriage had been meant to be just such a bribe.

  Weirdly, I no longer felt guilty about that.

  I rubbed my fingers over the brand like I could erase it. Was this what it felt like for everybody else who was trapped in ignorance and darkness?

  Well, that sucked.

  “How do the dragons ride the horses?” I asked.

  Damelza sighed, before grinning. “Excellent. Now, decisions, decisions…”

  She raised her arms like a crow’s wings, and the bailey lit up with a file that hung from one side of the courtyard to the other, flicking from page to page with a casual click of her fingers.

  I gawked at my own strengths, weaknesses, and measurements that were written across the entire castle. When pictures of me as a kid appeared, my hands clenched into fists: me curled on my mattress in the attic (when had dad sneaked that one?), wearing a bow tie at one of mum’s dinner parties, playing with Hartley and her cat plushie…

  “Wait, are those baby photos?” I dived for Damelza, but Crave caught me around the waist, holding me back.

  The band of Crave’s arms was cool. He was strong but gentle, resting his chin on my shoulder. His breath gusted against my skin, calming me.

  Damelza paused on a photo of me grinning at the camera. My eyes were so bright and happy. I’d forgotten that I’d ever looked like that as a kid before…well, the Kitten Incident.

  Crave turned to press a single kiss to my neck like he understood. I jumped at his touch, and my skin tingled.

  Damelza frowned. “Do you have any talents that aren’t typical of mage criminality?”

  I bristled, even as I smiled brightly. “I’m wily as a fox, snuggly as a cat, and prickly as a hedgehog.”

  “Or just a prick?” Crave whispered in a teasing Irish voice; his breath was warm against my neck, and it flushed me with heat as well.

  I stifled a laugh. “It’s like you know me already.”

  Damelza gave a sly grin. “I’m pleased that you two are getting on so well, since Crave is both your mentor and patron. Also, the Immortals have never had a whipping boy, unlike the Princes, but their good grades deserve a reward this upcoming year.”

  I wrenched myself away from Crave’s hold. “Whipping boy? Sorry, but can’t you hear that…? The non-magicals in Christ Church are screaming for Superman’s help because a student’s stuck in a tree or it could be a cat… Whoops, did I just reveal my secret identity…? Anyway, I’d better go and save the world and not hang around for any of this whipping…”

  Damelza snatched my collar, before I could run. “The brand on your hand connects to the wards around the academy. You’re imprisoned here. There’s no running, even if you’re Superman.” I paled, tearing at my lip with my teeth. Hecate had truly done a number on me. “And what are we…barbarians?”

  Don’t answer that…

  Damelza shoved me back into Crave, who wound around me like he was the cat. “The whipping boy is an ancient tradition. It simply means that if the Immortals misbehave, then you’re the one who’s punished. It teaches them responsibility and self-control, which makes the unit stronger. Plus, if there are spells or potions to be tested, they have you to try them out on in class.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “I’m allergic to being the guinea pig.”

  Damelza arched her brow. “Are you allergic to execution?” I flinched. “The original mage who was the only one to become a Rebel here so many years ago was walled up alive for his crimes. Whipping boy or walled up alive?”

  I snatched Crave into my arms. I hadn’t realized how much smaller he was than me because he exuded more charisma than should be legal. Then I twirled him, unti
l he was breathless and laughing.

  “Whip me, baby.” I flashed a wicked grin.

  Crave curled his tongue behind his teeth. “If you desire it.”

  “Confess,” the bronze Hecate with the keys bellowed like a curse.

  I glanced over Crave’s shoulder at Hecate. “Okay, I was Jack the Ripper… Wait, I ate the last chocolate chip cookie… Okay, okay, I left the plug in and sank Atlantis. Wow, you’re good at this.”

  “Silence!” Damelza roared. Her coat dissolved in a flurry of feathers, just as the pink fires blazed up again. “Hecate has renamed you as Confess, just as she names all students. You’ve been born again into the academy.”

  “Original,” I muttered.

  Damelza’s lips thinned. “But truly fitting, Confess.”

  In a flurry of black feathers, she disappeared.

  I shivered, before disentangling myself from Crave and marching to snatch up my suitcase. I wiped off the snow in furious swipes. Branded, trapped, and reduced to whipping boy without the ability to use my power on professors.

  I was starting to understand why this was viewed as the deadliest of the academies.

  All of a sudden, the Blood Amulet that trapped my magic weighed heavily around my neck, searing me.

  I measured everything in BM and AM: Before Magic and After Magic.

  BM, I’d lived in the main house with my sister, dad, and mum.

  AM, I’d been trapped in the attic.

  When I’d first been moved from my rooms and realized that all my toys and books were being left behind, I’d sobbed. Until Hartley had struck me.

  “Mages don’t cry,” she’d hissed, even though she was crying as much as me.

  Who was the liar now?

  When I’d been thrown into the warded attic like I was a dangerous criminal, I’d curled up on the floor with my arms around my knees.

  I’d always been terrified of the attic because when I’d been tiny, I’d heard noises from it like someone was living up there. Hartley had taunted that it’d been monsters.

  I’d fearfully peered around the dark. “P-please can I s-stay with you?”

  Hartley had shaken her head.

  Tears had blurred my vision. “Why’s m-mum locking me up h-here?”

  Hartley’s smile had been twisted. “Because this is where the monsters live, remember?”

  I’d wailed, and dad had dropped to his knees to pull me into his arms and stroke over my shaking shoulders. I’d already noticed the chains shackled to the wall.

  Maybe somebody…more than one person…had already lived here before me? Was this where the mages of the House of Jewels lived?

  I’d quaked that I’d be shut up and hidden away forever.

  “I won’t let your mum do this…not again. I’ll save you, no matter what I have to promise or suffer. I’ll keep you safe, cub,” dad had whispered in desperate pants.

  Truth: I’ll save you, just like I couldn’t save your older brother from being thrown to the wolves.

  I’d screamed at the shock of my new power and the revelation that I had heard my secret older brother trapped in the attic all those years before and that he’d been sacrificed to the werewolves.

  Dad’s gaze had been sadder than I’d ever seen it, as he’d slipped a Blood Amulet over my neck. “I’m sorry, but mum insists that you wear this if you’re to continue to live with us.”

  I’d choked. Instantly, I’d felt ensnared, as if my new powers and true self were being forced behind an invisible wall. I’d clutched onto dad’s shoulders like he could make the sensation stop, yet he’d been the one to put the amulet on me.

  It’d always hurt to imagine what dad had sacrificed to get permission from mum to take the Blood Amulet off so that I could learn to shift or to earn small comforts like my mattress, a TV, or a text from Aquilo. Yet every time that dad visited me with a joyful grin, he brought something new for me.

  But the strain of it had killed him.

  I’d killed him.

  Crave’s hand clasped mine, warming it, and my ragged breathing steadied. I blinked, brought back to the cold reality of the academy.

  When had I started to tear at the Blood Amulet, bruising my neck?

  Hurriedly, I dropped the amulet.

  Crave’s gaze was shrewd almost like he could see the truth, before he dragged me to the corner of the bailey, where a dragon gargoyle perched with its wings outstretched, as if it’d been caught in the moment of fleeing.

  Crave’s eyes glittered crimson in the dark, before his lips ghosted against mine. My pulse fluttered in my neck, and I leaned forward.

  Just a little more…come on…

  Two kisses in one night would mean…touch, love, and someone both desired and wanted me.

  It’d mean two more kisses than I’d ever had before.

  Incubi were experienced, right? Crave wouldn’t be able to tell that I hadn’t popped my cherry…?

  I clasped Crave’s hips more firmly, but he only giggled against my lips.

  Then he whispered, “Your sexy self doesn’t get travel sick…?”

  Pulled out of my haze (could incubi mesmerize?), I mumbled, “Hmm…? Is that the lead into a dodgy pickup line about riding your spaceship because if so, I applaud your traditional approach.”

  Then my eyes widened, as the gargoyle winked at me and its mouth opened impossibly wide, sucking Crave and me into the darkness.

  Chapter Six

  Rebel Academy, Saturday August 31st

  Bask

  The gargoyle dragon sucked Fox and me through into the West Wing for the mage’s first night as my new whipping boy. Strange, but as his hold on my hips tightened, his touch didn’t hurt but only burned deliciously.

  All the pleasure without the pain was brilliant. I could get used to that.

  I treated myself to a sniff of his curly hair. He smelled like sweet wild raspberries tangled beneath a yew tree…or like my sexy Voyeur Ghost had claimed him first.

  My ma once told me that non-magical scientists believe the center of the galaxy smells like raspberries. Fox already smelled like he was my center.

  I should’ve just told him the dick chat-up line about the spaceship.

  I shivered at the memory of Voyeur Ghost and how I’d sensed her returning my love tonight, just before I’d come so hard my dick almost exploded. I’d never loved a ghost before, maybe Exploding Pleasure Dick was her curse.

  It was worth it.

  This new Rebel looked like he’d faint if I turned on too much of the incubi charisma (away with you, it’s a thing), and also like he didn’t have a clue how hot he was. At least he’d been accepted by my angel…queen…goddess…

  I sighed. What was above goddess because Voyeur Ghost didn’t feel like any of those pet names? I’d never had to choose something to whisper to a lover before but I thought that my other attempts of Spooky Snookums or Witchy Pants would lead to less Exploding Pleasure Dick and more blue balls. Yet I felt as green as Fox looked from the sudden trip through the gargoyle to only imagine her as just another wicked witch.

  The pink fires blazed in the braziers, warming me after the freezing chill of the bailey. Snow trickled down the back of my neck in melting trails. An aroma like bonfires sparking with rich magic wrapped around me.

  I let go of my whipping boy’s hand (Rule 7 of the Incubi Night Code states: You can never be too possessive), and his legs buckled, before he collapsed onto the polished stone. His suitcase lay crushed next to him with its contents vomited over the floor. He looked like he’d copy it and puke too. I didn’t know why he appeared so embarrassed. After all, I’d already seen him in a diaper.

  And he’d made almost as adorable a baby as I had.

  Humming Madonna’s “Crave” because multi-tasking was winning, I shot a cheeky glance over my shoulder at my arse.

  Yep, still pettable.

  I grinned at the sound of Sleipnir’s guitar music (my gorgeous god would love this new magical student who I’d brought home for hi
m…or he wouldn’t, he was hard to read), I patted the mage on the shoulder. “Poor wee Fox. Transportation around the castle is tough on humans.”

  “There’s nothing wee about me,” Fox attempted to snarl, whilst actually whimpering and clutching his guts. Cute. “Can’t you see how tight my pants are? My third arm is busting out.”

  I snickered, patting him on the head this time. “Wee.”

  His eyes widened, before he staggered to his feet. He spun around, staring at the room in shock. My guts roiled because I understood. I’d only been dropped off (abandoned made me sound too much like a dog), last term, once the Duchess had broken her bond with me. Should I point out to him that there was also no TV or wi-fi or would that spark a full-blown panic attack?

  Had I looked just as terrified?

  Wait, the way that Fox was eying my nest of blankets and satin pillows (had I hidden Nile well enough because no one was snuggling my plushie but me), made him look like more of a cat than Pocus, at the same time as if he also had the urge to piss all over them.

  There would be no pissing on my bed, me, or Nile, even in kinky fun, and that was non-negotiable.

  I needed Nile for the times that I was desperate for soft touch, and Sleipnir was meanly studying, playing his guitar, or eating. Even Voyeur the goddess Ghost couldn’t sway me…maybe…oh, who was my slinky self kidding, everything was negotiable to her.

  Except, was it Sleipinir, my Rebel god (I covered the never being too possessive…?), who Fox was eying like he wanted to piss on him…?

  When I whacked my own forehead to clear that image, Fox shot me a wary glance. Then he ran his hand through his damp hair, turning to scrutinize Sleipnir, who lounged on the bed in a sprawl of long limbs and guitar.

  As always, Sleipnir looked like insolence had been invented for him alone. His cotton candy pink hair fell in gentle spikes, which matched his eyes. He wasn’t wearing the uniform’s blazer and had wrapped his tie around his neck like a bandanna. I wished that I could pull off that look. Note to self: try to pull off more daring looks. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to reveal shimmering sea serpent tattoos that coiled like they were alive. He strummed the haunting melody of “Mad World” by Gary Jules, which crept through me, as if it was infused with magic. He didn’t even look up at Fox or me, which was the downside of living with dominant Immortals who acted like, well, gods.

 

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