Page 61 of Baneful Magick

“What have you all found out?” Thatcher asked. His posture was calm, showing not an ounce of the stress and concern that most people would feel given the circumstances.

Falke got him up to speed, explaining what we’d found at the greenhouse until Thatcher made a cutting motion with his hand. “There’s no need?—”

“We cannot possibly ignore what has happened this time,” Julian argued. “Students have seen this body, and word will spread like wildfire.”

“Are you attempting to tell me how to do my job?” Thatcher asked Julian, his eyes flashing dangerously with power. Thatcher was an asshole of the highest order, but he was still the dean of the conservatory. Killing him would draw unwanted attention to us, and that was if we were successful in any attempt. As pompous as he was, he was also a very powerful necromancer. Depending on what he threw at us, we could very well lose, then we’d never be able to achieve what we were here to do.

The old vampire remained calm in the face of the president’s threatening tone. “Of course not. I was merely going to suggest we come up with a game plan of what everyone should be telling them. That way, students won’t instigate any trouble, like reaching out to their families. It is, of course, completely your decision since you are in charge here.”

“That I am,” Thatcher preened, disgustingly pleased with Julian’s supposed pandering. God, he was such a fucking idiot. “That’s what I was going to say before you rudely interrupted me. We will say that there’s a wild animal coming onto our grounds to hunt students. I’ll enact a curfew to keep students safe, and we can start tracking down the identities of the victims.”

Falke inclined his head. “A great idea, sir.” His sarcasm was so thick I was surprised he didn’t choke on his words.

Appearing not to notice, Thatcher nodded imperiously to us all. “The three of you are responsible for tracking down the perpetrators. If you don’t manage to find them, that will be on your heads.” He began to walk away, calling over his shoulder for us to clean up, then he was off, probably back to his office.

“One day, I’ll kill him,” I ground out, and Falke let out a deep laugh.

“You might have to fight for that privilege,” he replied darkly.

Julian didn’t reply, his gaze stuck on Thatcher’s retreating figure. Finally, the vampire turned around to face us, and the emptiness in his eyes raised the hair on the back of my head. I wasn’t afraid of him, but I did have a healthy appreciation for other predators, and that was just what Julian was.

“Assess the body then burn it. Same as the first one,” Julian said softly, his voice icy with barely contained rage. “Meet me in the library archives at midnight. We can start going over things then. For now, I will need space so I can get his stench off of me. I need to focus.”

Waves of violence poured from him as he walked away. Every movement was precise and so controlled it looked painful.

Falke sighed and rubbed his face. “Part of me wonders if that was because of Thatcher or because Isla was mentioned. The three of you were instantly on high alert at the prospect of her being the victim.” When I did nothing but silently arch an eyebrow at him, he shook his head, letting the subject go for now. “Are you going to be able to keep a clear mind long enough to go up there?”

“I can compartmentalize,” I told him coolly. “Unfettered rage is a death sentence among the fae. Anger the wrong person, and it could be the last thing you ever do. That lesson is taughtveryearly among the courts.”

Falke just nodded and gestured up to the roof. “Then take care of that while I search the nearby grounds.” He didn’t wait for my reply before trotting off. Everyone had so much audacity today, telling me what to do, but I held tight to my control.

It was taking everything inside of me to act nonchalant. Internally, I was raging, my Unseelie blood craving a target for its maelstrom of emotion.

If I couldn’t get Isla to scream for me, I’d make someone else. Who was this incubus she was with right now? I’d bet it was that roommate of hers, Echo. Someone else claiming her first made me even more determined to claim her. Making her mine was always going to be so damn satisfying but taking her from someone else would be absolutely intoxicating.

Maybe I’d make him watch me fuck her into oblivion. He could see her fall apart under me. Before the end, I’d make sure he would know that he’d never be able to measure up to me. A cold smile filled my face as I loosed my fire magick, setting the entire roof ablaze. I watched the flames dance, imagining the incubus’ body burning instead of the pieces that were there.

The smell of burning flesh was never so sweet.

Chapter 23

Julian

Thursday

The library was silent as I walked towards the archives entrance to meet with Ambrose and Falke. Apprehension made my stomach tight as I thought about what had led to this late-night meeting.

I had expected Falke to protest the meeting location given he’d need to use magick and shift, but maybe he could tell I had been about to snap after dealing with Thatcher. That man’s pompous attitude was annoying on the best of days, so on the day a second student was killed, he was downright abrasive.

There had been too much going on at the scene. Ambrose had been focused until the witch had shown up but bringing up Isla’s name had instantly put him and Bricriu on high alert. The high fae’s reaction had been expected, hell, even Bricriu’s wasn’t a surprise... but mine was.

The switch from calm to deadly predator had been instantaneous. The grief I’d experienced when my last loved one died has been all-encompassing, and I hadn’t had that level of reaction to anyone in centuries. Ensuring I kept my emotionaldistance from others was something that I had to maintain. Bricriu was the closest I had gotten to anyone in a very long time, and it had taken a good while of him being my blood source to get to that point.

But Isla... The moment she walked into the library, I noticed her. Bricriu’s attention to her had only cemented mine.

She was like a thunderstorm, wild and untamable, leaving destruction in her wake, and the witch had no idea the effect she had on people. Ambrose existed on a hair trigger at the best of times, but since delivering that invitation to her he was a ticking time bomb. I suspected his obsession had gone beyond merely watching, but I had no proof of that beyond my gut instinct.

Shaking my head, I tried to dislodge that train of thought.

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