Page 47 of Phoenix Academy: Madness

Apparently when Xavier kissed me, he sucked the inhibitions right out of my body, along with any of the good, common sense I was born with. Because no smart, well-raised witch would say something like that to the angry wolf who's her accidental familiar. Sheespeciallywouldn't say that about the brother of the guy she just had a hot make-out moment with.

Excuse me while I die of embarrassment.

It'd be a better fate than what awaits me right here, right now.

"What did you just say?" David asks, his words crossing over Xavier's mild, "Well, hedoeshave the same face as me."

The wolf shifter seems both stunned and amused as he observes, "I didn't think you wanted anything to do with me."

"Although his eyes are atinybit further apart," Xavier continues, his voice a curious murmur. "He says he's more handsome, but that's all hot air. We've got exactly the same DNA."

David stares at him. "Fuck, Xavier, havesomestandards. And maybe a little jealousy wouldn't hurt you."

From somewhere behind the stacks, Beatrice Trout hisses, "Inside voices!"

So she's been listening to us this whole time. Every single bit of our conversation. And the only part she cares about, apparently, is our volume.

Excuse me while I sink into the middle of the Earth. Maybe there's something hollow in the center of this spinning ball of molten lead. Or maybe the world will spin so fast that I fly right off of it—I'd love to die in space instead of be here right now.

No such luck. I'm still here, no matter how much I wish otherwise, and so are the two shifters. One of them is apparently calculating the difference between the facial features of himself and his twin, while the other is becoming increasingly less amused and angry.

"Well," I amend, staring at David's blackening scowl, "I wouldn't kiss you inthisstate. You look like you might bite my face off if I tried."

Xavier bursts into laughter.

Somehow, David scowls further. He's really gotta be careful with that—his face might get stuck in a state of perpetual anger. Although I have to admit, even with his mouth turned down and his pale eyebrows slashed together, he still makes a striking figure.

How dare he be so handsome and so angry at the same time. It isn't fair—when I'm angry I just turn into a red blushing blob of incoherency.

"I don't want to kiss you at all," David says. "The thought has never occurred to me."

That stings, but I do my best to hide it. "Good. I was only saying it because I didn't want to leave you out. After all, I know how temperamental you are."

I swear I can hear the shadow of a growl emanate from David's chest, but it fades quickly, and he tries to force his facial expression into something neutral. "I don't have anger problems."

"That's not what I said." Looking back and forth helplessly between the guys, I ask the question that Ireallywant answered. "Is this going to cause issues with you guys? And with Reggie? Because it was just a kiss. I don't... I don't want the three of you to fight."

Xavier quietly says, "We're stronger than that."

"And you're not that special," David adds, with a haughty gleam in his eyes. "Why would I jeopardize a lifelong friendship with X, who saved me, and why would he risk his relationship with his own brother? No one wants to fight over you.Especiallyme."

He emphasizes the last part so much that it bothers me a little. His protestations almost seem fake—though maybe that's just me projecting what I want onto him. After all, he's never shown any real inclination of liking me.

"So everything will be fine," I say, trying to sound confident instead of dubious. "We'll just... pretend like it never happened."

Xavier nods, his face carefully composed in an expression of neutrality, though I swear there's a bit of disappointment in his eyes. "Right. Never... never happened."

"I certainly wish I could wipe the memory of you two playing tonsil hockey from my mind. So consider it completely forgotten." David exaggeratedly shudders in disgust. "I've seen grosser things in my life, but not many."

Fed up with him, I pick up a pencil off the table and throw it at his head. He swerves to avoid it—shifter reflexes—but it seems to tame him a little.

The truth is, I could tame himcompletely.

I'm pretty sure that, between my powers and the naturalistic bond, I could do the same thing to David that I've done to foxes and feral cats: make him more subdued, a little easier to handle, less angry all the time.

Of course, there's no way I couldactuallydo it. That kind of abuse of power is exactly what my mother raised me to never touch with a ten foot pole.

Still, there's a curious part of me who wonders what he's like underneath all that anger—and where it all came from, given that I know so little about his past.

---