Page 22 of Forbidden Magic
Why doesn’t she give a damn about me anymore?
Allie sips on her wine greedily. Lies and deceit are clearly her favorite flavor. “Did you enjoy your classes?”
“Sure.” If she’s not going to talk, then I won’t either.
“Who did you get paired up with in S&S?”
I angle myself away from her and watch the others dance. “Huh? A Fae.”
She brings her cup to her lips, her knuckles white against the plastic. “Which one?”
“The dark one.” I’m being totally childish, pretending that I don’t know his name.
She snatches my wrist, her nails sinking into my skin until they draw blood. “You got Cole as your Spell and Sorcery partner?”
“What the hell? Yes!” There’s something unsettling about how she says the name, like she has said it many, many times before. Like her tongue is familiar with the crisp K-sound and luxuriates in the sweet inflection of the “ole.”
Her arm shakes, her face green and clammy. Then, like nothing happened, she tucks her hair behind her ear. “He probably won’t help you much and let you do all the work. Don’t take it personal.”
“Allie…”
“I’ll see you later.”
“Allie!”
I shout at her back, but she breezes toward the main hall as though she’s deaf or completely uninterested in continuing this conversation.
The half moon grooves in my skin are red and painful, and I massage my bruised wrist.
Whatever is happening to Allie, Cole is involved, somehow. God… Did she sleep with him? The notion is revolting. Bile rises to my mouth.
They might fuck you, if you beg.
Never make a deal with a Fae. You’ll end up on your knees…
10
Shadow
The Academy is worlds away from my old human high school, but it’s got a few similarities. Teachers, desks, uncomfortable chairs… And the class you have to take, even though you’d rather push your eyeballs inside out.
A mousy, bald leprechaun with a high voice and a bright green satin suit walks into the room. He’s barely three-feet tall, and while we’re taught not to judge species by their height, this particular teacher clearly doesn’t know how to command a room. He nervously tugs on his slim mustache, waiting for us to settle down. “Hello, students. I’m Mr. Wright.”
Whispers whistle in the three rows behind me. There are nine other students. Five boys. Five girls. At least, they won’t be accused of sexism.
Allie leans in. “He’s the Foreign Currencies and Supernatural Trade teacher.”
Those two subjects aren’t part of the mandatory curriculum, but I know Allie has an interest in accounting. “Are you going to take those?”
“I’d rather choke on a pot of gold,” she whispers.
I smile despite the bad joke. Allie is finally acknowledging my existence. That’s a step in the right direction.
Mr. Wright becomes redder and redder, the students still talking amongst themselves, and finally clears his throat. “Welcome to the special mortal monthly seminar. This is a safe space to discuss the dos and don’ts of a safe mortal environment.”
Olson raises his hand. “Do we have to?”
Stifled snickers resonate across the classroom.
