Page 56 of Bonds of Magic
I stood up again, not quite able to suppress a wince. “You said yourself, we’re short on time. We should get started.”
“Not until I know you’re not about to keel over from pain,” Noah said, and any triumph I felt about having predicted his motives was swamped by a wave of humiliation.
“I’mfine,” I said for the millionth time.
“Are you going to make me undress you? Because I will. If you’re going to act like a child, I’ll treat you like one.”
My options were to surrender or to throw a tantrum, and neither left me much dignity. I chose surrender. At least that meant I could remove my shirt as gently as possible.
I hissed as I started to pull it off. The fabric had stuck to the burn, stretching my skin as I moved. It was awful. I didn’t even complain when Noah helped me tug it free. Anything to get my arms down sooner. I balled the shirt up in my hands and held it in my lap as Noah’s eyes roamed over my skin.
He let out a long whistle, but not of the ‘goddamn, you’re hot,’ variety. It was much more ‘goddamn, what did you do to yourself, you idiot.’ I looked up at him mutinously.
“You didn’t get those burns from grazing a candle,” he said. “Not unless you lay on top of it and about a hundred others for five minutes, just for fun.”
“It was an accident,” I repeated. I didn’t look down at my stomach. I knew it was a mess, and it contradicted everything I said.
“Why didn’t you go to the infirmary?”
“I didn’t think it was that big a deal.”
“Or you didn’t want to tell anyone how it happened.” Noah gave me a hard look. “What the hell were you doing, Cory?”
I hated this. I hated giving obviously false answers. Hated the well-meaning questions. Hated having to hide the truth.
But I knew if I told Noah exactly what had happened, I’d get an earful. Plus, he’d probably tell Dean Mansur, and fine, maybethe dean should be aware of the fact that some of his students were proposing to force the truth out of him, but then I’d also be forbidden to keep investigating. And I hated feeling useless most of all.
I sighed. “Look, what I was doing isn’t important. But what I found out is. There’s a group of students—Hunters, mostly—who don’t believe the story about Erika dying in an accident. Valeria, her older sister, is their leader. And they’re talking about finding a way to force the dean to tell the truth.”
Noah’s eyes narrowed, and he nodded at my torso. “And you think that discovering that was worth the cost?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Cory, the dean knows there are people who are unconvinced. He’s been dealing with this for weeks now. He’s got it covered.”
“They were talking about using violence. Valeria was against it, but still, how long until someone decides to take things into their own hands? The dean might not be safe.”
“Isaac Mansur has been dealing with threats longer than you’ve been alive. He knows what he’s doing. You, on the other hand, don’t.”
Noah held my eyes, watching like he wanted to see his insult sink in. I looked away first, my eyes moving to the shirt in my hands. Only then did he speak again.
“Whatever you were doing, it was obviously reckless. I shouldn’t have to remind you that your life is already in danger. I’d make you promise not to do this again, but I suspect you’d break that promise, and I don’t want you to cheapen your word.”
I frowned, trying to work through what he was saying.
“Instead, I’ll ask you totell mebefore you feel compelled to do something else stupid. At least that way if you get yourself killed, we’ll know where to find your body. Can you do that?”
His words were harsh, but the light in his eyes made me scared to argue with him. I had a feeling I never wanted to see Noah when he was truly enraged. He was so tall, looming over me with his broad frame, practically filling the room.
“Yes,” I said reluctantly. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“Good. Now stay still while I get you cleaned up.”
He turned and pulled a first aid kit out from underneath the sink. From the outside, it looked like the kind you could pick up at any drug store, full of gauze and alcohol wipes. But when he flicked open the lid, it was so much more than that.
There were vials in various colors. One was filled with clear liquid thatmighthave been rubbing alcohol, but what was the bottle filled with green liquid and a swirling gold spiral? What was the pink one with purple bubbles that sloshed back and forth? There were tubes of ointments and little jars of salves and bandages covered in the script of languages I didn’t recognize. There was even a box of Band-Aids that were shaped like different parts of the human body.
“What do they do?” I asked, pointing at the box.
