Cruel Magic (Royals of Villain Academy #1)(4)

“It’s okay,” he said in a low gentle tone. “We’ve got you now. You won’t be trapped here anymore. We’re going to take you home.”

The words sounded like they should have been comforting, and he said them like he meant them. With a weird rush of warmth, my body stopped shaking. But at the same time my mind recoiled.

I didn’t want these people to “get” me, and this was my home right here.

“I feel we need to send a message,” said the man who’d murdered Mom from where he was walking toward Dad.

My heart lurched with a fresh jolt of panic. I yanked myself away from the gentle guy just as the man sliced both hands through the air in an X.

A matching X gouged through Dad’s plaid shirt right into his chest. A spasm jerked his body, and a cry seared up my throat. I lunged at his attacker.

More hands caught me. The murderer muttered something under his breath that sounded like a curse.

“Knock her out,” he said. “We’ve got to get going.”

A few harsh syllables reached my ear with the swipe of a palm across my forehead, and my mind fell away into blackness.





Chapter Two





Rory





I came to with a sway of the surface beneath me. My body was lying on firm padding, a smooth material against my cheek. My next breath brought the smell of leather into my nose. The thrum of an engine and another swaying sensation told me I was in some kind of vehicle.

My eyelids felt too heavy to lift. My thoughts were muddled. What had they done to me? The people in the kitchen—the man who’d ripped Mom and Dad open like animals in a slaughter house—

Nausea surged through my gut at the memory. I stiffened against the seat. Those monsters had killed my parents and dragged me off… somewhere. I didn’t have any idea why or what they wanted, but every particle of my being clanged with fear.

The haze in my head gradually retreated. I eased my eyes open just a crack to take in my surroundings.

Some of my hair had fallen across my face, hiding my gaze from anyone watching. Between the dark brown strands, I made out thin sunlight seeping through the windows onto an empty burgundy leather seat that faced my own. I was in the back of a limo.

My only company was two figures up in the front, the backs of their heads just visible above the tops of the seats. The sunlight glanced off a glass privacy divider between me and them.

As I took that in, the woman in the front passenger seat turned to glance back at me. My breath stopped in my throat as I held myself perfectly still, watching her through my eyelashes. After a second, she looked away again.

The divider must have been a thick one. I didn’t hear her speak, but a hint of a laugh carried through as if in response to a comment.

My captors wanted to keep an eye on me, but I guessed they didn’t want me to hear whatever they might say about me or where we were going. Okay. A faint ache was spreading through my shoulder from lying prone, but I’d just have to pretend I was still unconscious until I decided what the hell to do next.

None of this made any sense. Mom and Dad had never given me any reason to think they had enemies, let alone the kind of enemies who’d want them dead. They’d spent their lives working with joy, for fuck’s sake.

This morning—if it was still the same day—I hadn’t seen any sign that they were worried about an impending attack. Everything had seemed so normal.

A lump rose in my throat. I shut my eyes against the burn of tears. That breakfast was the last time we’d really talked, and I’d spent most of it badgering them about letting me move out. If I could have erased the last day and stopped any of this from happening, I’d have happily stayed in the damned basement for the rest of my life.

I was pretty sure I was still wearing the same clothes, but no blood clung to my hands or arms. Someone had washed Mom’s blood off me. Somehow that felt like a betrayal in itself.

A small shape shifted against the back of my head. I had to tense up to restrain a flinch. Then tiny claws prickled against my scalp in a familiar sensation.

Squeak—had she been holding onto my hair the whole time? I’d been so caught up in the attack that I hadn’t thought about where she might have ended up.

A wry wisp of a voice tickled into my head. Good, you’re awake. We need to talk, sweetheart.

I almost choked in surprise, and my mouse’s claws pinched deeper into my scalp. Quiet. Don’t let them know you’ve come to. If you stay still and whisper to answer me, we should be able to have a decent conversation without them realizing.

“Squeak?” I murmured, my thoughts spinning. My mouse could talk—or telepathically communicate, at least? Since when? She’d never acted like anything other than a regular rodent back home.

The name’s actually Deborah, but when we’re around anyone else, you’re better off sticking with the mousey one. Sorry to spring this on you so suddenly. I’m just glad I managed to hang on to you while these bastards were hauling you off.

What…? Who…? I didn’t know where to start.

Maybe Squeak—Deborah?—picked up on my confusion, because she nestled into her favorite spot at the nape of my neck and went on.

Here’s the quick version: I used to be a joymancer like your parents. The Conclave worked some magic so that my mind could take up new residence in this mouse body. It’s not such a bad trade, you have to understand, because I was just about dead from cancer when they offered. All I had to do to get a bunch more years was play pet and do my bit as your familiar if anything went wrong. I just wasn’t expecting anything to go quite this wrong.