Page 112 of Gemini Wicked

“Fuck. Me,” Zara groans. “The Dean. Same Dean who just handed the Horn of Ceres to Cleo’s sea dragon, right?”

Lucius slips out his Old World handkerchief and frowns as he polishes the seaspray from his glasses. “I assure you, the Dean is a neutral party, both in the succession struggle and as the creative force behind your finals. But she’s under a great deal of pressure from the school board. Not to mention, she’ll now be obliged to announce a tuition hike. This morning’s damage to the student commons will be rather expensive to repair.”

“She should send the bill to my father,” Vasili says coldly. “He’s the one who tried foolishly to confine me in the crypt while he threatened to slit your throat.”

Clearly done with his lie-about, my boyfriend gestures imperiously for the knapsack I’ve brought him. I nudge it obligingly toward him and he pillages it like a naked pirate.

“Well, in fact…” Lucius hesitates. “Your father has precipitated the Dean’s latest dilemma. He’s phoned in, from wherever on the mainland he’s now lurking, to file a grievance—on Cleo’s behalf.”

“A grievance?” Zara nearly chokes on her H2O. “She thinks she’s got a grievance? That bitchy witch and her clique attacked me, remember?”

“Skyler attacked you, yes, and she’ll be held accountable.” Lucius stops polishing his specs and looks grim. “But you attacked Cleopatra first, my dear. There were multiple witnesses from her villa—witnesses whose loyalties lie with Messalina rather than you—to substantiate the allegation. With Nikolai Romanov a trustee on the board, the Dean clearly felt she had no choice.”

Unease ricochets from mate to mate in my polycule like a bleeding pinball machine.

“Uh oh,” Neo says softly, eyes worried behind his glasses. “What has Deanie done, Lucius?”

Lucius clears his threat. “She’s, ah, suspended both Zara and Vasili. In his case, the offense is wanton destruction of school property, thanks to that catastrophic shifting incident.”

“Oh, dear, suspended again. Well, cry me a river.” Impatient, V pulls the silky black tee shirt I’ve brought him over his pretty head and reaches for his black lace panties, the sight of which (I can’t help noticing) makes Zephyr lean forward with interest.

“It’s unfortunate, Mr. Romanov.” Lucius gives V’s antics a repressive frown, because you can take the prof out of the schoolroom, but you can’t take the schoolroom out of the prof. “You’ve only just been removed from probation after your last offense.”

“Blooming Dean. That old throttlebottom.” I sneer. “How long are they out for, then? For this suspension?”

Lucius replaces his specs with a sigh. “Two days.”

Zephyr’s watching V slither into those boy-cut briefs that cup his pert ass like a pair of hands. Now Zeph’s gaze veers toward Lucius with a sudden narrowed focus that makes my pulse skip.

“Two days?” Zara jumps down from the gunwale and plants her hands on her hips.

“That was the bare minimum penalty she could assign under the Codex.” Lucius eyes our girl’s militant stance. “I’ll say it again. The Dean’s not working against you, Zara. She could have expelled you outright, but she didn’t.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for that.” Zara’s glittery fingertips drum with agitation. “Finals start tomorrow, Lucius.”

I’ve been a bit distracted myself by all that energy humming under the surface between Zephyr (whose non-human mind I can never read) and Vasili (who’s definitely aware of his scrutiny, but pointedly ignoring it). Not to mention that potent tension zipping between Zeph and me, which is palpable enough to taste.

Now I zoom in on what’s being said with a curse.

“Bollocks.” I give in to my nerves and start pacing. “Gives that rotter Cleo and her lot a full day’s head start on finding the Horn of Ceres, doesn’t it?”

“Not like she needs one,” Zara grumbles. “She’s a sea dragon, and we already know the Horn’s in a watery place.”

Zephyr unfolds from his sinewy recline against Xhevith’s neck and flows to his feet. Under that supple green dragonscale I used to fantasize about peeling off him with my teeth, every drum-tight muscle and tendon in his lethal body is alert and twitching with suppressed passion.

“Your punishment can be turned to your advantage, my bride,” he breathes.

“Oh, yeah? How do you figure?” Zara shoots him a suspicious look that makes the air crackle. Clearly, after that rubbish went down in the commons, he’s First Boy on her shit list.

Vasili’s already on his feet, working a pair of black glitter jeans I love on him over his supple thighs. Now his gilded head jerks up with a hiss. He knows where this is going, we all do.

Fuck.

Undeterred by the hostile looks he’s getting, Zephyr scrambles over his sleeping dragon’s foreleg and prowls toward our girl like the predator he is.

“Since it seems you’re not permitted to attend class for the time being,” he says softly, “nor to commence your examinations, ’tis naught to prevent you from attending the Faerie Ball and taking your throne at my side.”

Ever since he pitched up at Icarus, I’ve been a smoldering volcano of suppressed emotion. Now, without a tick of warning, that volcano erupts in a cataclysm of molten rage.

---