Cruel Magic (Royals of Villain Academy #1)(25)

Blacksuits. My mind flashed back to my supposed “rescue,” to my parents’ murderer in his posh shirt and slacks that had, yep, been black. My throat tightened. Add them to the list of people to take down.

“So, what is—” Imogen started to ask, and the dorm-room door clicked open. Shelby came in, her head ducked so the fall of her mousy-brown bangs hid her face. The rest of her hair was pulled back in her habitual ponytail. She saw me with Imogen and veered straight toward her bedroom.

Had Imogen hassled her before just because she was a Nary? Or did she simply assume I wouldn’t want to talk to her if I already had company? There was one quick way to check whether Imogen was a fearmancer I’d actually want on my side.

“Hey, Shelby,” I said, raising my hand to wave her over. “How’s it going?”

She stopped but didn’t move toward us, sucking her lower lip under her teeth for a fleeting nibble. “Um, okay. I saw you got your food situation figured out?”

I smiled. “Yeah. Thanks for saving me from starvation the other day.” After my first mentoring session with Banefield that morning, he’d arranged for one of the chauffeurs the school had on staff to take me into the nearby town so I could do some grocery shopping. It’d felt a little weird getting driven around like some rich snob and even weirder when I looked at the balance on the Bloodstone bank account I’d gotten access to and realized I was rich.

Imogen looked from me to Shelby and back again, a faint furrow creasing her forehead as if she was puzzled by the fact that I’d even acknowledged Shelby’s presence. She didn’t say anything snarky, though.

“You should get the double-chocolate brownies at the bakery counter the next time you’re in the grocery store,” Shelby said, her stance relaxing. “They’re freaking amazing.”

“With a recommendation like that, I think I’ll have to.”

“I’ve had those a couple times,” Imogen said, slowly but warmly enough. “They are really good.” She perked up, her focus narrowing in on me again. “Hey, why don’t we go grab a drink in town? It’s not like you’ll be able to use your room for a while. You’ve got to get off campus now and then.”

She obviously had only been including herself and me in that “we.” Shelby started to turn away again. She didn’t even look hurt, just resigned.

“Sure,” I said. “Shelby, you want to come too?”

Imogen opened her mouth, surprise flickering through her expression, and seemed to catch her reaction. “Yeah,” she said. “Why not? The more the merrier, right?”

Having Shelby along with us would mean we couldn’t talk openly about anything magical, but the trade-off was worth it for the way the Nary girl lit up at the invitation. My heart wrenched at the thought of how many times she must have been shunned by our other dormmates in however many months she’d been living here.

“Yeah,” she said. “For sure.”

“Do we need to call for one of the school cars?” I asked.

Imogen waved that suggestion away. “No one bothers with those unless they’re so wasted they’re falling over. It’s like a twenty minute walk. Come on.”

Outside, night had fully settled in. Thin streaks of cloud blotted out most of the stars, but here and there a few tiny sparks twinkled down at us. The breeze that ruffled our hair had a cool edge to it that made me glad for the trim jacket I’d put on today, courtesy of my Bloodstone mom.

We skirted Killbrook Hall and meandered across the parking lot where I’d first arrived at the university to the narrow road that led through the woods into town.

“There’s a walking path through the forest a little ways over too,” Imogen said, gesturing. “But it’s a little spooky for my tastes at night.”

“I’m fine with the road,” Shelby piped up.

We fell into awkward silence as we set off along the gravel-strewn shoulder toward town. Imogen seemed unsure how to talk with Shelby there.

From what I’d seen, the mage students avoided the Naries if they could rather than integrating them into their socializing. Even with my homeschooled background, I might have more conversational experience with non-magical types than any of my peers, just from days at the park and the past year of university classes.

“How long have you two been at the university?” I asked.

“I started right when I turned sixteen,” Imogen said. A bit of a late-bloomer with her magic then, I guessed. “So, almost four years now.”

“Wow,” Shelby said. “I just started in the fall. It’s pretty amazing, the set-up they have, even if people are kind of… intense.”

Imogen glanced at her. “What’s your concentration?”

“Music,” Shelby said. “You guys have the best instruments I’ve ever played on here. I’m mostly cello. And theory, of course. The library has books I never could have gotten on loan back home.”

Right. Professor Banefield had mentioned something about the Nary students coming under the pretense of individualized study around a few select areas. They shared a couple classes with the fearmancer students—in general areas like business and literature—and the rest of the time they kept to their own little pockets of focus. While we practiced our magic.

“Maybe we’ll get to hear you play sometime,” I said.