Page 42 of Hellfire

“The first trick to offensive spells,” my teacher went on, oblivious to my lack of concentration, his voice returning to his authoritative timbre.

Crap. I needed to listen to this, but we slept in late, and Blaze left early to squeeze some yoga in, and I missed out on checking in with him.

In a minute. My assessment wasn’t complete, and I’d take advantage of my neat little trick while I still had access to the djinn magick. Across the month, it gradually faded, needing a top up at the Cairn of the Elements for recharging. A trip that wasn’t happening with the Terra Room heavily guarded, and my men and me under closer scrutiny for crossing the portal to the djinn realm to save Blaze.

The combination of my resurfacing snake powers and the elemental force granted to me told me that darkness lingered in his shadows. The Brotherhood slave curse Castor mentioned, waiting to strike at an opportune time and drag him back down. We had to find a way to remove the damn snake tattoo and prevent my grandfather from capitalizing on it. He profited from my bonded’s magick, and I feared the longer Blaze was separated from his power, the harder it might be to reunite them. I tried not to think the worst and focus on the here and now, otherwise I’d drive myself to the same despair.

I didn’t need the sacred flame to show me what a difference Castor’s magick cleansing made. Blaze looked like a different man from the one who hid in his room for weeks straight. Back straight, neck lifted, arms folded behind his back, he stood with the confidence I came to know. His skin, hair, and eyes regained their modelesque glow. The lines that scored his brow and mouth made a run for the hills. That panty-melting smile I came to love made a resurgence in small bursts during the lesson he delivered.

Astra nudged me with her elbow, getting me right in the rib, and I winced at the slice of pain. My bestie had the concentration of a damn lion on a hunt, and nothing, not even a handsome teacher, was getting through that.

I sharpened my focus on Blaze’s delivery. What were we learning again? Basics of offensive spells. Got it.

My teacher paced with his palms skyward. “Some of you have your own form of offensive spells, like Astra with her chemical dissolution magick.”

She swayed her hips at him singling her out.

“But you can’t entirely rely on your power, especially when you’re haven’t built up the magical muscle, so to speak.” He flashed his bicep, earning a few chuckles from the class, Astra included, who raised hers back.

The return of his humor was areallygood sign.

Angela and Terry gave their usual huff from the end of the row. Astra pretended she didn’t hear it, Obsidian croaked what I assumed was a gargoyle cuss, and Blaze’s harsh glare dropped their gazes to the ground like scolded puppies.

The class held a different atmosphere without Nelle present, her sulfurous antagonism a thing of the past. The mean girls seemed lost and subdued without their ringleader, hanging at the back of the class. I wonder who Angela would copy her assignments and tests from now? I didn’t know if Blaze noticed and didn’t ask, remaining neutral and not abusing my privilege as his girlfriend. That was between teacher and student.

“Until your magical muscle is stronger.” A smile played at the corner of his lips again. “You’ll need to conserve your magick, or you’ll tire yourself out. This is why we call on the Veil for back-up.”

Yep. That was my man. Back to business. Teaching was in his blood. He was good at it, the way he explained concepts in a manner that was simple to grasp and master.

The despair burning in my chest reduced from twenty-five percent to five, and only because of the lingering threat etched into Blaze’s skin.

“Does everyone remember the symbol we learned about in yesterday’s class?” His attention panned the line of students.

Most nodded, some stayed silent, while Angela’s eyes widened and glued to the withered, brown flowers on the trellis of the back wall.

Our teacher honed in on her like a heat-seeking missile. “Angela, remind us of the symbol, please.”

Red splotches surfaced on her face. “I’ve got a headache, sir. I can’t remember.”

Classic excuse.

“Then you should attend the infirmary immediately for herbal medicine.” His disbelieving glare chased her from the room with a curse under her breath.

Without Nelle, she was going to struggle to pass her second-semester classes.

Blaze’s hard gaze softened, and he repeated the question. “Yes, Astra?” he said when her hand launched into the air.

My bestie traced the symbol in front of her, calling on a ball of Veil energy, rolling it between her palms.

“Very good. And what is the alternative way to summon this power?” He stared right at Terry.

“Vocarus.” She recited the angelic word for summon, which was eerily similar to the Latin word vocare.

“Excellent.” The snip in his voice conveyed his disappointment that he didn’t get to award her with extra homework. Of the three… now two mean girls, Terry was the second smartest, next to her fallen queen.

Demonstrating for the class, Blaze lifted his hands and traced out a spell in the air. Nothing happened. He repeated the motion. Still nothing.

“Vocarus,” he ground out with slight annoyance, and a spark of power illuminated his hand. “Magnare.” He used the word for larger, but the magick didn’t respond. Looking flustered,he shook his hands, blew out air, and tried again. “Vocarus.” Flashes exploded from the tiny ball.

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