Cruel Magic (Royals of Villain Academy #1)(7)

My pulse stuttered. What the fuck? How did that— Had I done that?

Where had that power come from?

The jitter of uncertainty that hit me was my undoing. The guy recovered in a flash. He stomped his heel, the ice crinkling away under it, and the entire surface beneath me turned slick and hazy. I moved to take a step, and my feet shot out from under me. I landed on my ass with a sting of pain up my spine. The frigid layer of ice bit into my palms.

“Do you really want to keep going?” the divine devil said, managing to sound both teasing and menacing.

I scrambled up, and the woman from my escort grabbed my arm to steady me.

“This isn’t the time,” the man said, and motioned to the hazel-eyed guy. “Maybe you’d better fill them in. And you.” He jabbed his finger at me. “This way, please.”

“I look forward to seeing you later,” the divine devil called after me as my two remaining escorts ushered me across the landing and around a corner.

As fascinating as he’d been to look at, I couldn’t say I returned the sentiment.

I inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to settle my nerves. I couldn’t have conjured up that frost, right? I’d never shown the slightest hint of magic before. There had to be some other explanation.

We strode down a gloomy hall with varnished wooden doors lining both sides. The killer stopped at the door at the very end of the hall and rapped his knuckles against it.

“Come in,” a woman said in a cool voice, as if she’d been expecting us.

The man opened the door and motioned me in ahead of him. I stepped onto a thick crimson-and-ocher rug in a room as big as my entire basement apartment. Built-in mahogany shelves lined the walls, stuffed with aged books, jars of indeterminate powders and oils, and assorted trinkets.

In the middle of it all, a prim woman of about fifty sat at a matching desk carved with a vine around the edge. Her eyes had a beady quality, her nose pert and her lips thin. Her long graying blond hair was wrapped into a thick coil at the nape of her neck, resting against the collar of a fitted indigo dress-suit.

She stood up as we came in with a bob of her head to my escorts. “Well,” she said, fixing her beady gaze on me. “Here you are.” She sounded satisfied but somehow not quite pleased, as if she was happy with the situation but not that she had to be a part of it.

“Go on, then,” she said in the same cool tone, waving the other two off. They vanished, shutting the door behind them. The woman extended her hand toward one of the two velvet wingchairs that faced her desk. “Please, have a seat. As I’m sure you were told, I’m Headmistress Grimsworth. I’d imagine you have a lot of questions.”

I allowed myself to drop into the chair, careful of the mouse clinging to my shirt between my shoulder blades. It seemed like I should probably pretend Deborah hadn’t told me anything, or they’d wonder how I knew, but acting clueless didn’t feel all that difficult. All the trauma and the confusion of the day washed over me in one huge wave. It took a moment before I could speak.

“Where is this, and why the hell am I here?”

Ms. Grimsworth’s mouth curled into a narrow smile. “You’re here because this is where you’re meant to be. This is the Bloodstone University for Magical Edification, and you are Persephone Bloodstone.”





Chapter Three





Malcolm





“Who the fuck was that?” I said, my gaze following the new girl as she slipped out of sight. “And where the hell did she grow up that she comes here dressed like a feeb and jumping into other people’s business?”

The junior we’d been playing with had scampered off. If he started spreading the word about how some random chick had saved him from Malcolm Nightwood, he’d find a whole lot more than his feet on fire.

Jude swiped a hand through his dark red hair, his lips curved with his typical smirk. “She looked pretty nice landing on the ground ass-first when you were done with her, I’ll give her that.”

Connar’s grim expression broke with a soft snicker. His brawny arms flexed as he crossed them over his chest. “You know, she did. She should have realized she was outmatched the second she saw you.”

I’d admit the new girl had a nice ass in general, even in her baggy jeans. I’d gotten a good look at it while she was leaving. Maybe she’d be fun to have around if she removed the stick she apparently had shoved up there.

We could certainly help her with that.

Declan fixed me with what I’d come to think of as his professor look. He’d always had a bit of a know-it-all vibe that must have come with being the oldest of us and the only one close to full baron. It had intensified since he’d gotten the teacher’s aide gig this fall. I gave him a pass on it because he generally put that knowledge to use greasing whatever wheels we needed greasing.

“That,” he said in an authoritative tone, “was the long-lost heir of Bloodstone. So whatever you’re imagining doing to her right now, you might want to revise those plans.”

I blinked, momentarily losing my grasp on my composure. Only momentarily, of course. “The Bloodstone scion? They found her? Holy shit.”

Jude cocked his head, his dark green eyes lighting up with curiosity. “Was she living with feebs, hence the clothes?”