Page 76 of Forbidden Magic
The First Bite
The winter dance is a barely-veiled excuse for students and staff to dress like movie stars and drink the night away. There’s a similar tradition in every school on Earth and probably beyond, where everyone can gather, pretend they all like each other, and pat themselves on the back for being the best. I won’t reward their dark, empty souls by skipping it.
My purple dress has a fluffy skirt that hides the shorts I’m wearing underneath. It’s got a conservative neckline but dips really low down my spine, the v-shaped silk finishing right above said shorts. I’ve got a few spells hidden in a holster around my thigh in case Flynn, Cole, or anyone else tries to screw me over.
This dance is a very high-profile venue. Nothing spells trouble like the promise of a public humiliation. I’ve seen enough Carrie remakes.
Trent shows up at Summer Hall five minute early, and I stagger when I see him. He’s never looked like the son of Brent Darkwood, billionaire, philanthropist, and cutthroat politician. Until now.
His tux is perfectly tailored to highlight his muscled frame, and the dark blue shade makes his skin look shiny instead of pale. His long hair is loose but styled away from his face, the volume and thickness of his brown mane preventing the hairstyle from looking flat or oily. The messy locks contrast nicely with his clean-cut black undershirt and tie.
“Wow,” he says as I throw on a long black jacket. “You look every bit the smart, sexy temptress that you are.”
“You look every bit the billionaire playboy you want to be.”
He takes my hand and leads me away.
The dining hall’s been glamored to look like a ballroom. An enchantment transformed the ceiling into a clear starry sky, and diamond chandeliers twinkle in mid-air above our heads. The tables are gone, replaced by a live band playing supernatural radio sensations.
Trent rests a hand against my neck, his thumb grazing my hairline. “I’ll get us a drink.”
Everyone whispers at our arrival. I’m an outcast, but Trent is more influential than I gave him credit for. A few students offer me a small smile.
Most students have ditched the black and red anti-mortal colors for the occasion, but Flynn didn’t.
He skips over to me and showcases the sleeves of his jacket. “Do you like it? I had it specially made.” The motif spells out “Julia Winslow should be expelled” in small, black script over a white background. His blond hair is slicked back for the occasion, enforcing the villainous look.
He prowls in a circle around me. “Cat got your tongue?”
I eye him up and down. “Went to all this trouble for me? Aw! I know you’re obsessed with me, but I do appreciate the reliability of your efforts.”
He moves into my personal space. “Dance with me.”
My jaw stiffens as I skip around him. “Over my dead body.”
“Come on. I’m here with Melanie. You’re with Trent. This is practically a double date.”
The way he wets his lips while looking at my cleavage makes my heart squirm.
“Get lost, Verinos,” Trent clips, handing me a flute of champagne.
I down it in one gulp and take his outstretched hand.
Flynn glowers but returns to Mel. She shoots me a nasty look over her red wine, and I spin around to erase her sullen pout from my vision.
Miss Eillis is radiant in a green gown that leaves her stomach bare, her long white hair braided into an intricate fishtail with teal and emerald highlights. Oz beams next to her, his arm wrapped around her waist.
Allie is there, looking drop-dead-gorgeous in a blue sleeveless sequined dress. She’s hanging out with Olson and the other mortals and waves us over.
“Looking good, sis,” she says, kissing me on the cheek.
“You too.”
Jeremy arrives with Lydia in tow. My ex-roommate is wearing a V-neck green dress and glittering heels. Gone is the mayhem and the blood.
“Hey,” she says quietly, holding her clutch to her chest.
“Hey,” I answer. “Are you okay?”
