Page 53 of Forbidden Magic
She doesn’t want them to know, and I give her a slight nod. I won’t sell her out to the Cheer Brigade, but I’d still prefer for her to come clean to me.
“I need to pee.” I wrestle my way out of the covers and zip the tent back behind me.
The chill of the night bites into my face, and I’m grateful for the heat spell Mr. Brady cast over all our tents. The boys are on the opposite side of the clearing, and the light is already off in the third tent.
The moon is bright, and I easily follow the path up the hill to the cabin.
On my way down, a high, needy cry tickles my ears, and I flatten myself to a tree. Someone’s in the forest. The glass bottle containing the silence spell I brought with me in case one of the girls snored is heavy in my pocket. I cast it on my boots and slowly travel toward the sound. At first, I’m thinking about the demon and Holly’s attack, but the moans become clearer and clearer, and my ears heat up.
Two people are having sex against a tree. I catch a glimpse of the girl’s naked thighs, wrapped around one fine male ass, his pants bunched at his feet.
Jessa’s blue waves are unmistakable. They are loose and fall to her lower back, flying in the evening breeze. The man is also easily recognizable, and my jaw clenches. A hot wave of disappointment and disgust chokes me.
Mr. Brady is like every other hot-blooded male in this damn school. Sex and power. That’s all everyone here cares about.
I hurry back to the tent and hide my face in the pillow. The girls have quieted down, and I force my mind to think about anything, anything but the rapture on Jessa’s face.
* * *
In the morning,Lydia and I walk to the small cabin to wash up. Fog licks the cold earth, dew frosting over the grass strands. The spiky ends crunch underneath our boots. The water is freezing, and we quickly brush our teeth and tame our hair into a semi-decent state.
When we step over the stone threshold to return to ourfriends, a cold wave washes over me. “What the fuck?”
Magic slime—what we call the leftovers from our cauldrons after the spells are used or bottled—cascades across my back. The icy goo sticks to my eyes, ears, and nostrils.
Its putrid smell makes me gag, and I furiously wipe down my face, fighting to catch my breath. My ribcage constricts in disgust.
“Now, they smell like the filth that they are,” Jessa chimes.
The other girls are wrapped in a half circle around her. A few of them laugh, a few hug their chest, but none of them, not one, comes to help.
Tears stream down Lydia’s face, her knees shaking.
I leap down the small hill and punch Jessa right in the face. To my extreme satisfaction, she goes down like a rock. Her perfectly shaped nose spurts blood, her legs scampering beneath her to return to a standing position. She trips and falls on her ass. The long, slick strands of blue hair stick out in all directions, and a red bruise blossoms on her right cheekbone.
I spit a mouthful of slime at her and let my fire build.
Jessa sends an electric jolt my way, but I’ve got experience avoiding lightning strikes. My sister’s element is air. I duck and send a fireball directly at Jessa’s legs. The skin of her calf singes, blistering under my hardened stare. I want to do so much more then nick her precious leg.
I exhale and clasp my neck, looking for my necklace, and my eyes widen. “You took my necklace! Give it back!” Hell hath no fury like a woman who’s been stripped of her mother’s only heirloom.
Jessa shuffles to her feet. “I couldn’t be less interested in your green rock.”
“Give it back!” A nasty fireball billows in my hand, and I inch forward. The image of Jessa’s face melted by fire sings a wicked song inside my bones.
Hard fingers close around my arm. Flynn is there, wearing all black, his blond, almost translucent hair hidden underneath a black bean hat. “Get your hands off her!”
I try to yank myself away from his grasp, but he’s too strong. He’s not in this class, and I realize he must have been the one to bring the slime. “It’s all fun and games until we fight back, isn’t it?”
Sharp nails dig into my skin. “You should be back in Fairy, polishing our floors.” He grabs a fist of my hair and tugs, his Fae magic slithering in every fiber of my being.
A kick at the back of my knees makes me waiver. He wants to break my skull and dance over my corpse. I see it in the harsh set of his brows, in the storm of hate rolling deep inside his crystal-blue eyes. I feel it in the hard bunch of his arms.
“Nobody move!” Mr. Brady’s voice isn’t sugary or seductive. It’s all steel, and he stands taller than usual. The scene freezes, Flynn’s fingers still digging into my hair. The teacher strolls toward us. “What happened here?”
“The mortal punched me,” Jessa whines, holding her face.
Mr. Brady’s eyes flash with anger.
