Cruel Magic (Royals of Villain Academy #1)(56)

“I’ll explain after—here, this’ll have to do. They were right behind me.”

He muttered something at a door in between two of the bookcases and shoved it open. At his tug, I darted after him into the tight space on the other side. He yanked the door closed, and the room went dark except for a thin line of light that seeped in along the doorframe.

The smell of old books was even stronger now. A shelving unit pressed into my back and the shape of another loomed behind Declan. Beside us, a table and chair took up the rest of the space. When I squinted, I made out a book sitting there with a gaping split down its spine. Maybe this was a repair room?

The space was so narrow that Declan and I had ended up just a few inches apart. When I shifted on my feet to get a better sense of balance, my chest almost brushed his. A warm cedary scent rose off his body, cutting through the dry leather tang. I had the unfortunate urge to lean into it.

“What the hell is going on?” I whispered instead.

His gaze stayed fixed on the door as if he could see through it. “I overheard Victory and a couple of her friends going by downstairs. They knew you were in here—they’d figured out some way to get you in trouble with the teaching staff. Something to do with the rare books, I think. I only heard a little.”

“So you came racing over to find me first?” I couldn’t keep skepticism from creeping into my voice. Declan didn’t have the best track record when it came to rescuing me from trouble.

“Just because I’m not going to fight all your battles for you doesn’t mean I want to see you expelled. You don’t deserve that.”

He really should have a chat with his good friend Malcolm about the subject, then. I’d be willing to bet the large sums of money I now possessed that none other than the Nightwood scion had suggested expulsion to my other harassers as an ideal cause to take up.

“Why didn’t you drag them off into some dark room where they couldn’t be assholes, then?” I said, and the answer came to me before the words even finished leaving my mouth. “Because we wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re showing me any ‘favoritism.’ Right.”

Declan sucked a breath through his teeth as if he were going to argue with my conclusion—or maybe just with the tone I’d taken—but then he jerked a finger to my lips to silence anything else I might say. My mouth tingled at his touch.

Cressida’s voice filtered through the door. “She’s got to be around here somewhere. We’d have seen her if she headed out.”

“Maybe Sinclair wasn’t paying enough attention,” Victory muttered. “I should have left you to keep an eye on the stairs instead.”

“Well, if she’s gone, it’s not as if she’ll never set foot in the library again. We’ll just…”

Their voices faded away as they left our nook behind. I sighed in relief where I’d tensed against the shelves. Declan’s hand dropped from my mouth. I resisted the impulse to lick my lips to sustain the impression of his touch.

“They might not have totally given up,” he said. “We should give them a little while to leave, and then I’ll go out first to make sure the coast is clear.”

“And then I just never set foot in the library again? Wonderful solution.”

“Once you’ve passed your assessment and been officially enrolled, it’ll take a lot more for anyone to call your place here into question.”

“That would be great,” I said, with an edge I didn’t bother restraining, “if I wasn’t in here specifically because I’m trying to make sure I pass that assessment.”

He turned his head. It was too dark for me to make out more than the vaguest impression of his expression, but I could tell he was looking at me.

“Where do you feel you need extra help?”

The frustration of the last several days bubbled over in a flood. “Oh, I don’t know, how about not having to spend every class fending off whatever new harassment technique your friends and their sycophants have thought up next instead of actually learning? That would be pretty nice, but it’s not going to happen, is it? Because torture trumps everything else at Blood U. What do you even care?”

“I’m trying to help you the best way I can,” Declan said, his own voice going terse.

“Yeah, right,” I shot back. “You’re trying to help me the easiest way you can. Out of sight, where no one might actually find out you disagree with what they’re doing. But hey, you get to feel good about ‘doing your best’.”

Declan adjusted his weight, resting his hand on the shelf beside my shoulder. “I haven’t had a single thing easy my entire life. Everything I have, I had to fight for, and I have to keep fighting, or I’m going to lose it all over again. You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Of course I don’t. How would I? You’ve barely said anything to me since I got here. Go ahead, why don’t you tell me about it?”

He was standing so close I felt his hesitation in the tensing of his body. I grimaced. “Of course not. Talking to me like an equal would be treading just a little too far outside the party line, wouldn’t it? God forbid you act on your own conscience even when we’re totally alone in the fucking dark without a single person watching.”