One wrong step, p.24
One Wrong Step, page 24
“Fyzel, huh?” I pulled my eyes away, craning back to look at Nic. “Bit of bad blood there, leech?”
Nic huffed, his gaze still locked on the redhead. “None of your damn business.”
“I see,” I muttered, tucking that little piece of information away for later. “So, how would you suggest I find a witch?”
“Ah, that would be telling, Love.” Nic seemed to lighten as the group departed, “But maybe you could ask someone to make introductions?”
I barked a laugh, placing my back against the tree. “Like who; you?”
But Nic bit his lip, leaning in closer. I put up a hand to stop him, feeling soft warm flesh underneath. Not cold stone, like fiction, had led me to believe. “Did you even think to ask?” He retorted, making me lift my chin. “Let me guess, ‘you can’t trust the big scary vampire, he might bite you again.” He put on a voice, but I only lifted a brow, looking him up and down.
“Big?” Nic was about the same size as me, no taller, and his frame was trim. I’d have to see him without his shirt to see how ripped he was, make a note of whether he had hip dips that went into a ‘v’ and how I might run my hands up his thighs…
I blinked, realising I’d been undressing him in my head again. Flinching hard, I smacked my head against the tree.
“All okay, Love?” He smirked, even as I shoved myself free of his overbearing presence.
“Fine.” I snapped, rubbing my head. “So, are you going to help me or not?”
Nic pursed his lips, “Not.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, throwing his satchel over one shoulder. “Because I get the impression you don’t like me, and that hurts my feelings.” He pouted, “Especially as you’re keeping that pretty little neck from me. Unless you’re making an offer…”
“You wish.” I scowled with more bravo than I had, which showed when he launched towards me, entering my space in a blink.
“Oh, I do, Love.” He purred, setting my heart thundering. “I wish it every night before I sleep. All you’d have to do is beg?”
“Nicolas!”
We both spun, and for a moment I considered transferring to the Night Court, just so I could enjoy their works of art. Black hair swept back in a high bun and skin like honey, the guy was two feet taller than me and twice as wide. His white shirt stretched across thick muscle and his hand… oh my days, they could have wrapped around my wrists twice. If I’d been home, I would have said he was Korean, or maybe Taiwanese, but I wasn’t sure if this fucked up world was even round, let alone had countries.
“Like what you see, Love? Because he has a thing for Princesses…” Nic whispered in my ear before raising his voice to shout. “Hay Ryu! Come see who I found.”
Licking up my drool, I finally noted Ryu’s expression. Lips curling back, hand fisting around his backpack strap, and shoulders lifting, my gut soured at the fury. “What in the Inks are you doing?” he snapped, his voice a deep rumble.
Silence played for a beat before Nic whispered loudly in my ear. “He’s not talking to me, Love.”
“Me?” I gasped, looking between them. “I can be here if I want to.”
“Because you’re just asking to be bit again?” Ryu snapped, huffing from his nose. “Are you that selfish you’d bait an addict again?”
“Excuse me?” And this time, it wasn’t just me who reacted.
“Ah, come on Ryu. You were there. I didn’t drink that much.” Nic pouted. “And you have to admit, she is addictive.”
“You?” It was only then that my brain clicked, that horrid night, coming back into focus. Looking him up and down again, my awe quickly fell into annoyance. “You’re the ass who dropped me in mashed potato?”
Gaze darkening, Ryu’s gaze flicked over me too, and I remembered something else; he was a dragon. My jaw clenched as he raised a brow, wondering if I was about to become a s’more.
“Well, you were heavy,”
I gaped, appalled, mainly because I could feel my tongue tying itself in knots against my will. “Well… some saviour you are.”
“Do I look like your golden prince?” Ryu said, sneering. “Besides, you were in the way of our wilderness lesson. Tripping over you would have taken seconds off my personal best.” This time, I didn’t know what to say, and Ryu knew it. Shifting his gaze to Nic, he jerked his head once. “Let’s go. We’re going to be late.”
“Bye, Love.” Nic sang, skipping next to Ryu as he stormed away. “Be seeing you, I hope.”
Watching them go, I fumed. Fumed because the path was empty of students. Fumed because I hadn’t found my witch, fumed because I’d let Nic get close without kicking him in the balls again. But most of all, fumed because despite what logic told me, a part of me fluttered at the idea of seeing him again.
Both of them, I mused as I watched Ryu walk away.
And that was a very dangerous feeling.
Ryujin-Lee
“Dude, will you take a breather? You’re going to burn something down at this rate.” Nic laughed, jumping up the castle steps while I took two at a time.
“You. I’m going to burn you alive.” I spat, snapping my gaze at him. “What the Inks were you thinking going near her again? Wasn’t your last detention stint enough?”
But Nic just rolled his eyes. “I simply saw a pretty little thing lurking outside our dorm and I thought hey, I’ll see if there is anything I can do to help.”
“Really?” I narrowed my gaze at Nic. “You were suddenly feeling altruistic? After stealing all the berries off my pancakes at breakfast.”
“Really.” He beamed, showing me his fangs. “Any other motivation or circumstance was pure coincidence, and for no reason was I testing any theories or boundaries.”
“Now why does that sound more believable?” I scoffed, climbing the last steps and entering the cool castle.
Yet, I could still feel a lingering kernel of heat in my chest as she flickered in my mind’s eye. Pressed against the tree, back arched, her bottom lip open and plump… A better picture than the last time I’d seen her, pale, shaking, begging me not to eat her. And that fury sparking across her eyes. If they could bottle and cork it, they’d sell it as dragon fire.
Outrage aside, though, I breathed a little easier as we entered the halls and the distance grew. I could feel my inner dragon coiling back into a slumber. Around her it blinked awake within my chest, pawing at my skin. There was no desire to break free, thank the Inks, but to lean closer, smell her scent, taste that fiery temper a little more.
A sharp, desiring growl snapped from my chest, wheeling Nic back around to look at me. “Dude, what’s your problem?”
“Nothing.” I reacted, trying to rein in my inner beast. “I’m fine.”
But I couldn’t fool Nic. If there was one weapon in his repertoire, he could wield better than his fangs, it was perceiving expressions. “Ryujin… is your scaley-ass pining for her sweet ass?” He practically danced. “Are your barbed loins hungry for some princess action while Izzie is away?”
I snarled at the prick as he danced away onto a bench. "My dick is not barbed."
“And how would I know that? You won’t show it to me.” He waved off cooly, before pinning me with a flat stare. “But seriously, you want Zara? I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen Iz, but I thought you guys were cool?”
“Izabel and I are fine. We talk. She’s hoping to visit for a weekend.” I snapped, stomping away. She couldn’t make it as often as I might have liked, but… “And don’t start spouting shit about me wanting that head-case; that is the last thing I need, and you should stay away from her too. She’s trouble, and from the sounds of it, no prince will save her either.”
“Too bad a hulking dragon won’t save her instead.” Nic purred in his annoying way, just as we stepped into Inner Magic. The shadowed room was deliciously cold against my hot skin.
“She might need one if she’s trapped in your schemes.” I rolled with the joke, rather than voice my concern, nodding at a fellow Smoke Eater, who gave a shocked smile. “What did you do to her?”
“I did nothing to her,” Nic answered, taking a seat. “Not yet.”
“Nicholas…” I strained. Every day I wondered why the Inks would force such an uncooperative ass on me as my Ally. Then, I remembered all the scrapes he’d only escaped because of me and had my answer.
“And I will stay away from her … until she comes to me.” He winked as I growled over the desk. “Trust me, Ryu, I know what I’m doing.”
That I doubted, and I felt the centre of my shoulder blades itch with irritation, as my wings tried to stretch. Rolling my shoulders, I freed a smouldering cloud of smoke, startling the succubus in the row behind. It had been years since I’d lost control of my dragon, and this girl wasn’t about to slip under my skin and release it now. Yet her presence still prickled my mind, just as Professor Ozor shuffled in, the old man’s bones creaking. A second-rate magic teacher for the second-rate students.
“What was she doing there, anyway?” I asked, leaning to whisper to Nic.
“Oh, looking for a witch.” Pulling out his Opus, Nic sat it perfectly centre on the desk, followed by a perfectly sharp pencil and pad, all of which lay at right angles to each other.
I, on the other hand, dumped my bag at my feet, pulling out my Opus, noting a new crack across its screen, a tattered notebook and a chewed pen. “Why is she looking for a witch?”
“Oh, some noble quest, I think. She didn’t actually say.” He skirted my question again, even shifting in his seat slightly as if I couldn’t smell the lie in his sweat already. “I’m thinking of sending her to Angelica. What do you reckon?”
My face pinched. “Angelica hates you. She’ll suspect something instantly and jinx the girl.”
“Exactly,” Nic grinned, “Don’t you think Zara will be the perfect parlay gift?”
My laughter roared free, spooking the entire class, and Professor Ozor, who jumped high enough to reveal his bony knees. Shaking my head, I settled down, sharing a look with Nic.
Yes, that really would make for a perfect gift, one we might all enjoy.
Chapter Fifteen
I wanted to cry.
Looking out my room’s window, I could still see the moon and the stars, while the distant mountains blended with the night sky. It was too damn early. Yet there I stood, dressed and ready to go. My bed called to me longingly, as did the dream I’d been having. But closing my eyes, I pictured Cleo’s damp hair, her lifeless expression and her misty, grey gaze. I had to find the truth and to do that; I needed a witch.
Glancing at my tome, the time read four fifteen. The Night Court’s classes had just ended. They’d all be heading to their rooms, or hopefully, the Crypt, which was where I headed now.
“I swear on all that is pixie dust here. If this early morning is for nothing, I’ll be taking warts.” I muttered to myself, silently running down the dorm’s stairs, heels in hand. There was a chill in the air that chased me down the halls, the silver moon casting strange shadows across the stone floor.
Following my tome’s map, I soon reached the twilight air and the sound of chatter. Students walked across the grounds, relaxing, meeting up, and suddenly I was very pleased I’d chosen to wear a giant hoody over my uniform, hiding its sunnier tones. Eyes tracked me across the bridge, but no one approached, making my path to the Moon Dorm seamless. Briar informed me that the Crypt was somewhere behind it, but she only knew that because the Day Court taught her to avoid it.
It should have been a nerve-racking trek alone into the dark forest, but swarms of Night Court student slip between the trees; many with flames hovering above their heads, making it as easy as following fireflies. Soon enough, I got my first look at the Crypt.
I don’t know what I expected. Honestly, I shocked myself with my stupidity, expecting something different from what it said on the tin - a collection of crypts circling each other. They’d melted thick musty candles onto the stone steps that lined a cobbled path, while more dribbled down the peeked roofs. Ornate lanterns swung from shepherd hooks above my head and despite the night, the place was alive with light. And people.
Students lounge in tiny grass clearings, their backs against tombstones, or propped up against slabs. A few had fold-out beach chairs, sitting around burning braziers, while others collected in the crypt doorways. I tried not to gawk as one girl absently flicked a butterfly knife into existence, before flicking it away again, leaving her empty-handed except for a delicate wrist tattoo that matched said knife perfectly. On another set of steps, a literal cauldron bubbled, the two guys reading feverishly from an open book, sprinkling dust and other ingredients in, changing its colour before my eyes.
I’d almost made it to the centre of the creepy yet quaint hamlet of death, eyes catching on a collection of knives stabbed into a central tree, when firm hands wrapped around my waist and mouth, dragging me between two crypts. “Inks, you really do have a death wish, don’t you?” Ryu hissed, spilling the scent of hot ash and cosy winter nights over me. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Annoyingly, I felt myself relax against the warm planes of his chest and glared up at him, only to find my gaze on his jaw. Damn, the man was tall. But I remained menacing; or at least, what I hoped seemed menacing as I pushed my hair from my face with my hoodie sleeve.
“Shouldn’t the fact so many people wish me dead be the issue here?”
“One doesn’t fight one's nature, princess.” Ryu hissed back, leaning over me until I had to curve.
“One shouldn’t talk in the first person, Lizard-boy. It makes one sound like a prick.” I snipped, trying to step back to the path, but his huge fingers around my wrist stopped me in an instant.
“No witch will help you. I won’t warn you again.” He hissed, heat rolling up my arm, making it tingle. “You’re not with friends here.”
Warmth dropped lower than my gut as his eyes flashed with a warning, a darkness in them that lifted my breath higher in my throat. But that didn’t stop the barking laugh from coming out. “I don’t have any friends on the other side, either.” I yanked my arm from his grip, ignoring how my skin still tingled. “In fact, everyone in this place is an overbearing, egotistical asshole who doesn’t understand the concept of ‘personal space’.” I slammed my foot down, aiming for his toes.
His grunt of pain was satisfying, and not waiting to be burnt to a crisp, I moved.
Reaching the Crypt’s centre, I danced around the creepy, murdered-with-many-knives tree, its dark bark twisted with knots and branches groaning. Multiple crypts were open, light spilling out past their iron doors. Seeing no reason not to, I swept down the first set of curving stairs, surprised by the comfortably warm air. Only circling a few times, I exited into a room, not unlike the common room at the castle.
Red plush carpets swept the length of the room while fires roared on either side. They’d scattered couches and chairs everywhere, while dark wooden doors, stairs and balconies suggested the place extended beyond. There were no windows or skylights, but ghostly white wisps danced together within the domed ceilings. Students lounged on the plush couches and chairs. while echoing voices hinted at hidden nooks and crannies.
A growl from the stairwell made me start, and I realised I’d been staring. Prompted to move, I fled down the closest corridor, only to crash into a six-foot trim frame dressed in a silky black shirt.
“Shit-” I hissed, falling back. With full dark lips and rich ebony skin, the silver ring through his septum flashed while more piercings covered his ears. Yet as I gaped, guilt swarmed as I noted his milky white eyes looked to the side of me. “Oh my god, I am so sorry. I didn’t see you- ah, I mean, I didn’t mean to I mean, are you okay?”
The guy smiled slowly, showing white teeth which were thankfully not fanged. “I’m alright. And evidently, I didn’t see you either, so I think we’re even.”
I chuckled lightly. Dressed in his uniform, the black blazer hung off his narrow shoulders and I was sure the stylish black overcoat and silver chains weren’t standard issue. But what captured my attention was the leather-bound tome he was holding, the title easy to read. “The Difcouerie of Witchmongers…” I breathed, looking up at him again. “Are you a witch or… a warlock? Can you have male witches?” I didn’t want to assume, and I already felt like a bumbling buffoon.
“A witch, chéri. There are no gender divides when begging for power from the Mother Crone.” He smiled again, his words like slow treacle, “But what gave me away?”
“Not the pointy hat or cape.” I shrugged, before realising he couldn’t see me. “What I-ah, mean is, I’m actually in need of hiring a witch if you have the time?”
“Oh, I always have the time for someone as sunny as you, chéri. Let us talk.” Turning on his heel, he held out an elbow for my hand and guided me deeper into the crypt. I questioned how he knew the direction, with no cane or guide dog, but guessed ‘magic’ probably had something to do with it. “I am Chilton, by the way, of the Amate Coven. Who might you be?”
“Oh, Zara.” I perked. Some memory prickled my mind, but it wouldn’t stick. “Zara Johnson and I don’t have a Coven, but I had a lifetime membership to Blockbuster once.”
“That is fascinating and utterly charming,” Chilton answered with a little too much cheer, weaving under an archway and down some more steps. The further we descended, I expected to feel a chill, yet every room remained warm. “I hope you don’t mind, because I should have mentioned – silly me, for it slipped my mind – but I am one of a pair.”
“Huh?” I frowned as we entered a smaller lounging area, the walls overspilling with plants. In the cosy nook, silver and black flowers blossomed, their petals unfurling, nestled amidst other enchanting flora. Plush cushions adorned the couches and chairs, which were also draped with midnight-blue throws. The air carried a soothing scent of lavender and should have been a tranquil haven, yet as Chilton shouted across the space, an icy finger dribbled down my back.
