Page 91 of Magical Academy for Delinquents
My mind was a million miles away, still reading through the articles, still replaying Potts’ last words over and over.
“The Pinnacle isn’t experimenting on vamps. It’s killing them.”
Chapter 36
Zavier showedup on our last day before break with a picnic basket hanging over one arm and a blanket on the other. I looked up at him from the bench I'd been sitting at for the past hour, fruitlessly searching for this ghost of a woman—Ginny Stone—through U.S. government files. The best that I could find was that she was fifty years old, based on a scrap of a doc that I unscrambled which included a birthdate. The Pinnacle was doing a good job of keeping their top-level Darklight a secret.
I sighed and shut my laptop when Z sat down next to me on the stone bench. He plucked the computer off my lap and put it into my backpack. "I can help you forget about that. Come on."
I grabbed my bag and followed him toward the woods. Once we were on the path, a little away from the buildings, Zavier slid his hand into mine. For once, he didn't make a naughty comment like, "Oh, your hand is silky smooth, bet that would feel good against my cock."
"Are you doing alright?" I asked him, glancing up from his tattooed forearm to study his dark eyes.
"Peachy keen, jellybean," he grinned. But the smile slid away quickly, and I could tell it wasn't real. Zavier had something serious on his mind today.
Was he nervous about the job? Was it too much? He and Evan had practiced together several times, Z slowing time as Evan scribbled furiously across a page, trying to unravel spells. It wasn't perfect yet, but they still had most of Spring Break. The ball wasn't until next Saturday. They were just over a minute and a half short on time, as expected.
Z still hadn't slept with me. Neither had Grayson, but Grayson insisted his power could handle things without a boost. Based on the Mars family, I was betting Grayson was telling the truth. But, now that I’d researched Z, I knew he needed the boost. His power ranking was a seventy-four out of a hundred. It was good. And he was smart. But that extra bump would push him to the top and give us what we needed. Z hadn’t mentioned sleeping together, hadn’t even really kissed me since this whole thing started. It made me worry he was having second thoughts—either about the job, or me.
The second option felt even worse than the first. I’d gone and majorly fucked up this job. No wonder pros wouldn’t work with me. Because I was very attached to all these guys. And Zavier … I’d thought he’d be the most enthusiastic about this power up stuff. But for all his naughty talk, was he shy?
I glanced up at Z again. He chewed his lip as he dragged me around Grayson and through the pine trees up a small ridge.
Gray nodded toward us for half a second before returning his concentration to four clay figures he was levitating in midair. I looked back to watch him and then up to see his clay dummies. They floated just at the tops of the trees, around forty feet. Gray—who absolutely hated to be called that, we’d discovered, so we’d all immediately started referring to him that way—he lifted the figures slowly, trying to hit fifty feet. His forehead was covered in sweat.
“Nice work,” I called as we walked off.
Z led me farther into the woods, on a path and then off a path to a little clearing I hadn't seen before. It wasn't all that different from any other clearing, except for the rotting tree trunk that fell across the middle. I guess that made this place special somehow because Zavier stopped and declared, "Here we are."
“Dead tree trunks are so romantic.”
“Yeah, well I tried to find a rotting pumpkin patch but—wrong season,” Zavier retorted.
I glanced over, lost. “Why?”
“Because it’d be gord-geous.”
I laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re right about the dick part of that statement.” He pumped his hips in a lewd dance for a second. And my familiar silly Zavier was back.
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t gotten to see that dick,” I teased as I helped Z spread the blanket. But then I worried I’d overstepped. “Hey, I'm sorry."
He laughed. "That's a first."
I punched his shoulder. "Stop. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have joked about that." I bit my lip. And then a thought occurred to me.No. Z isn’t a virgin, is he? Impossible. Shit.What was I gonna do if he was a virgin? How did I ask about that without being a total jerk?
He leaned back on the blanket, eyes twinkling. "I like this little nervous you. Almost as much as spitfire you. Why are you nervous?"
I huffed and tried to ignore him. No way I was gonna ask that. I also had no intention of answering his question. Both options made me highly uncomfortable. Instead I moved to open the basket. "What are we gonna eat?"
He laid out the blanket and said, "I got the cafeteria people to make us something special. Mac and cheese since it's your favorite."
I glanced up sharply. "How do you know that's my favorite?"
"First off, not everyone's oblivious. Second off, you've stolen at least three packages of the premade stuff from Malcolm's room. If I feed you, will you tell me what you were thinking?" Z asked as he dished some mac and cheese into a bowl for me and then brought out a bowl of strawberries.
He wouldn’t let it drop. Of course. I was gonna have to tell him something. Otherwise, Z would call Malcolm over so that I’d spill my guts.
