Page 54 of Magical Academy for Delinquents
I stared up at him.
Professor Ho's head popped into the room. "Excuse me, what are you doing here? Ms. Dunemark, you should be on your way to my classroom!" The short man glared up at Evan.
"Blood donation sir," Evan explained.
To my surprise, Ho's face softened a bit. "Alright. Get that in the mail ASAP so it doesn't spoil. Dunemark, walk with me."
Evan put my backpack on, gently sliding it over my shoulders, in a move that would have previously made me recoil. But maybe it was the fact that I was emotionally exhausted, or blood deprived, or he had stoked my fear and curiosity. He looked over his shoulder at me and gave a little half wave, before pointing firmly at the drink in my hand. "All of it," he said, like he was pre-scolding me for something that hadn't happened yet.
I stuck my tongue out at him.
He grinned back.
As I turned away from him, I realized some little part of me had just started to forgive Evan Weston.
Chapter 22
Grayson might have gottenme with pinwheel arms at the tournament, but it took him seven days to reverse my dick cup spell. He didn't figure it out until Wednesday. He'd thought leaving his water bottle behind last Friday morning would end it all. But I'd enchanted him, not the water bottle. So, anything he drank out of had turned into a sparkly vibrating cock until he figured out how to reverse it over the weekend.
It had earned him a couple of delightful nicknames from some of the prison-tatted students who didn't give a fuck about him and his money.
"Duck Sick."
"Cockle spaniel."
"Snurg gurgler."
I enjoyed watching his dark brown eyes search me out anywhere around the campus and burn holes through me. He’d hardly glanced at Laura over the past week as he’d tried to hire an Unraveler up to the challenge of undoing my spell work.
I'd hacked his computer and he'd reached out to at least three pros to try and get it done. That did add a bit of swagger to my step. Particularly when one old douche bag professional I'd tried to hire for my Pinnacle break in two years ago (a fat, living in his parents’ basement jerkoff who'd turned me down) couldn't do it.
Mama's got skills,I’d patted myself on the back when I read that email exchange.
But all good things come to an end. And that beautiful spell did too.
Once Grayson got that spell removed, I was on high alert. I wrote all sorts of spells to protect my person from physical attacks. Most of my nights were spent checking Grayson’s computer and trying to write spells based on what he wanted to do to me. I turned down another movie night with Zavier and Emelia because of it. And at first, I did well. But Spell writing can always be exploited by a loophole. Nothing’s ever watertight. A good Unraveler could look at a spell and just see the chinks in the armor. A great one could untangle a spell quickly and efficiently by coming up with a counter spell on the fly. That’s what I’d been practicing for the past few years, so that I could break into the computer and safe at the Pinnacle. Unraveling was going to be the key. And ultimately, Unraveling was how Grayson got to me.
Starting Monday morning, the bastard showed up randomly at the door to whatever classroom I was in (he was learning my schedule) and stared at me until I moved and waved at him. Then his face would grow dark and angry and he’d stomp off.
Twice, he found me in the hall. He even knocked on my dorm door once, staring after I'd opened it. He never spoke. But I always gave him my cocky grin and just-for-assholes finger wave.
Emelia told me it looked like he was hunting ‘puss.’ I laughed at her. She’d gotten the hunting part right. But he was hunting for my humiliation. To even the score. And I welcomed the day he would. Sort of. In a roundabout way. Because it meant he was focused on me. It meant I was a challenge.
But I wasn’t gonna let him pay his way to superiority. I didn't need someone on my team who bought his way to the top. I need him to think his way there.
He did.
On Thursday, I woke up after another hot group sex dream and stretched, refreshed and ready for another shit morning of Cross Country with Lundy. Because every day started with a run after breakfast. My ass loved it—my skirts had never looked so good on me—but the rest of me could do without all the practice fleeing through a forest. The cynical part of me wasn't a fan.
As I tossed off the covers and climbed out of bed, my legs felt tingly and strangely energized. I glanced down at them but couldn't tell what was wrong until I tried to take a step. And that step turned into a skip. And another skip. And another.
Laughter and glee bubbled up through me. I felt like clapping. Grayson had been testing my boundaries, I was certain. But he'd broken through. I hadn't protected myself against skipping. Because who the fuck would think of that other than a five-year-old girl?
My giggle was interrupted by a knock at the door.
I knew exactly who it was.
I skipped over and threw the door open wide, not caring that I was in my pajamas—a light pink silk tank top and shorts.
