Cruel Magic (Royals of Villain Academy #1)(37)

When I sat up, the first thing my gaze landed on was a square of white paper fixed to the inside of my door. A paper that hadn’t been there when I’d gone to bed last night. I leaned over to yank open the curtain and let the full sunlight in, and then peered at the note.

It’s time, it said in bold black handwriting.

Well, wasn’t that a charming sentiment and not at all foreboding.

“Deborah,” I whispered, eyeing the floor in case whoever had left me that present had messed around with other things in my room. I’d made my best attempt at magically locking the door last night, but apparently it hadn’t been good enough to keep vaguely threatening notes out. I wasn’t sure whether the paper had been teleported through the door or placed there by hand by someone who’d opened it, or which of those possibilities was more disturbing.

Deborah poked her pale mouse face out of the wardrobe. She darted across the floor to scramble up a dangling fold of duvet and came to rest her front paws on my wrist. It was only a faint pressure, but her touch brought a little comfort all the same.

She was the only person here who had any idea what I was really going through, and she was hardly even a person.

What’s the matter? she asked.

“Someone left a note inside my door overnight,” I said. “Did you hear anyone come in or feel any magic being worked?”

I was asleep a lot of that time myself. I expect I’d have woken up if someone had actually opened the door. But if they conjured it there by magic, I could have missed it. I’m sorry, sweetheart.

“It’s okay. I just figured I should check.” I exhaled, only a bit of the tension inside me dispelling with my breath.

What does it say?

“Just ‘It’s time,’ whatever that means. I guess I’ll find out.” I swiped my hair back from my face, the dark brown waves so rumpled they were nearly curls. “Can you feel any other magic around the room?” I couldn’t, but I didn’t trust my own ability to sense it.

Deborah scurried away to traverse the foot of the bed, her whiskers quivering. She came back to my hand. I think this room is safe enough. I could do some investigating, as well as I can, while you’re going to your classes today. Perhaps I’ll overhear something useful for you—who left the note, or what else the other students might be scheming about.

The thought of her leaving the already precarious security of my bedroom to roam around the rest of the school made my chest tighten. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Even if you could manage to stop any of the students from seeing you, a lot of them have familiars roaming around that would see you as a meal.”

I’m pretty fast on my feet. Don’t worry about me. My mission was supposed to be to look out for you, and I’d like to do a better job of that.

A lump rose in my throat. She’d had no idea she’d end up in this treacherous situation when she took on that mission, but she was willing to risk her life to keep protecting me however she could in her diminished form anyway. I couldn’t help thinking back to the comments Professor Banefield had made yesterday about how caring about people could hurt both you and them.

Caring about me was putting Deborah in danger. I should be able to protect myself.

“You’ve done a great job,” I said firmly. “I don’t know if I’d have been able to hold it together without you here with me. You just focus on keeping out of sight around any of the assholes we can’t trust. I’ll look after me.”

I tugged the note off the door, crumpled it, and tossed it into the garbage can under the desk. My charm bracelet clinked as I jerked open the wardrobe. Time to pick what to wear to face this day, whatever it was going to bring.

I set off for that morning’s seminar in a collared ivory shirt and sleek slacks that made me feel like I was some kind of kickass lady CEO, ready to tackle the day with fierce professionalism. I’d put on the other pair of dressier shoes I’d bought: black Mary Janes with low clunky heels that hit the floor with a satisfyingly solid smack. The few remaining tremors of magic I’d held onto after my attempts at a locking spell swirled behind my breastbone.

The sun beamed brilliantly through the first-floor windows around the library. I stepped out into the warming air to cross the green to Nightwood Tower, and my strides slowed.

It was normal to see several students and maybe a few teachers passing between the triangle of the campus’s three main buildings at any given time. This morning, a whole crowd had gathered around the fringes of the green. There were dozens of students, most of them faces I recognized from my classes, and many of the teachers too. I even spotted Ms. Grimsworth lingering near a cluster by the back doors of Killbrook Hall.

I set off for the Tower anyway, trying not to let their presence unnerve me, but as I walked along the paved path, more and more gazes turned to follow me. My skin prickled.

I’d just reached the middle of the green when Malcolm came sauntering out of the crowd to meet me.

He had his hands slung in his pockets, the sleeves of his button-down rolled to his elbows, his entire stance radiating casual confidence: every bit the divine devil I’d pegged him as the first moment I’d seen him. His sly smile fit his aura perfectly.

My heartbeat thumped faster. I moved to dodge him on the path, and he sidestepped to block me, his smile widening.

“Hold on there just a minute, Bloodstone.”