Page 19 of Goody Magic Academy: Year Three

The headmaster’s face darkened, shadows deepening the lines around his eyes and mouth.

“They are all deadly,” he said, each word sharp as a blade, “and they would all desperately want the Dragon Nexus. None of them can be allowed to acquire it.” His fingers tightened aroundthe arm of his chair. “To keep it out of enemy hands, one of you will have to steal it from Simon before he can auction it off.”

The words hung in the air. My lungs constricted, and I fought to draw in a breath. Then a gasp escaped my lips, the sound unnaturally loud in the stunned silence that followed.

My mind raced, recollecting scenes from every mafia movie I’d ever seen. Bodies in concrete shoes sinking into foul, murky waters. Dark alleys echoing with gunshots. And meat grinders—oh god, the meat grinders.

My stomach churned violently, and I struggled to maintain my composure. The polished wood felt too cold under my clammy palms. My heart pounded in my chest. The last thing I wanted was to end up as vampire chow—a cheeseburger for some wolf mafia king. The absurdity of that thought almost made me laugh, but the sound caught in my throat, coming out as a strangled whimper instead.

I looked around the table, seeking reassurance in the faces of my companions but finding none. Twyla looked as pale as a ghost, her freckles standing out starkly against her ashen skin. Jaxon’s jaw was clenched so tight I could almost hear his back teeth grinding. Even Rose and Valentin, usually so calm and composed, showed signs of strain—Rose’s fingers were curled so tightly around the stem of her glass I was worried it might snap.

The ticking of the clock seemed to grow louder, each second bringing us closer to a decision that could change our lives forever—or end them. The headmaster’s expectant gaze zeroed in on each of us in turn like a laser beam, awaiting our response.

Chapter

Ten

Silence stretched out around us. I could hear my heartbeat thundering in my ears, a frantic rhythm that outpaced the ticking of the ornate grandfather clock.

Jaxon finally broke free from the paralysis that held us all. He shook his head sharply in agitation and when he spoke his voice cut through the silence like a knife. “I know of Simon’s Ravenwood Estates. It’s in the bayou. It’s very highly guarded and almost impossible to penetrate unless you have an army.”

The headmaster’s face was impassive, his eyes glinting like polished obsidian in the dim light. “Well, since you don’t have an army,” he said, his voice patient but tinged with steel, “you will need to have someone on the inside. Someone who could let the others in and help you steal the object.”

Jaxon’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward in his chair. “What do you mean, on the inside?”

The headmaster’s next words fell like lead weights. “Simon doesn’t just auction off magical objects. He also has a fondness for selling flesh.”

My stomach lurched violently, a wave of nausea washing over me. I gripped the edge of my chair. “You mean he’s into human trafficking?” The words tasted bitter on my tongue.

Beside me, Twyla’s face contorted, her usually serene expression twisting into a sneer of disgust. “That’s despicable,” she spat out, her voice trembling with anger. “How could he do such a thing?”

The headmaster raised a hand, signaling to Ethan. The butler glided forward silently, the crystal decanter in his hands catching the light and sending prism-like reflections dancing across the table. The rich, metallic scent of Chosen Blood filled the air as Ethan refilled the headmaster’s glass.

“Simon worships money and nothing else,” the headmaster replied, his voice low and cold. He lifted the glass to his lips, the crimson liquid within looking almost black in the shadows cast by his movements. “I despise him and anyone who procures items from him.”

Rose’s voice was close to a whisper, but in the tense silence, it carried. “Meaning the mafia kings?” Her fingers twisted nervously in the fabric of her dress.

The headmaster’s eyes narrowed, the shadows deepening around him. “Yes,” he hissed, the single syllable filled with centuries of contempt. “Angelo Santi’s family has turned its back on its vampire heritage. One day he will regret that decision.”

The threat in his words hung in the air like a storm cloud, dark and ominous. The opulent dining room suddenly felt claustrophobic, the ornate decorations and plush furnishings a thin veneer over a world of darkness and danger I was only just beginning to comprehend.

The gentle clink of the headmaster setting down his glass echoed in the room. I swallowed hard. “So, you want one of us to be sold at the auction?”

The headmaster’s gaze locked onto mine, his eyes burning with an intensity that made my skin prickle. “Notoneof you,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “You.”

The word was like a punch in the gut, knocking the air from my lungs. My heart stuttered, then began to race, pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.

Finn and Jaxon leapt to their feet simultaneously, their chairs toppling backward with a cacophonous clatter that echoed through the room. Their sudden movements sent a rush of air past me, carrying with it the twin scents of Jaxon’s leather jacket and Finn’s woodsy cologne.

“No.” Their voices rang out in perfect unison. The single word reverberated off the walls, making the crystal drops of the chandelier tinkle.

I flinched at their outburst, my nerves already frayed to their breaking point. My fingers curled instinctively around the arms of my chair, the ornately carved wood digging into my palms.

The headmaster’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade of ice. “Calm. Down,” he commanded in a tone brooking no argument. His gaze swept across our faces, lingering on mine. I felt pinned in place, a butterfly on a collector’s board. “Peyton is the only one that would draw a crowd that would want to buy her. Not only is she a witch, she’s a black dragon. Something that the others would greatly covet.”

Each word felt like another heavy weight being heaped onto my shoulders. My stomach churned, panic rising in my throat, and the room began to spin slightly, the opulent decorations blurring at the edges of my vision.

Jaxon’s voice cut through my growing fear, sharp and unyielding as steel. “She’s not doing it,” he growled, his words reverberating with barely contained fury. I could almost feel the heat of his anger radiating across the table. “She could slip through our fingers, especially if Barone bought her. We might never see her again.”

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