Page 67 of Reckless Witch

“You don’t belong here. Leave,” he hisses.

I will my suddenly thundering heart to slow, and throw up my mental armor with the command that no one, not even a loved one—especially a loved one--can penetrate the thick, turtle shell-like steel I envision as a second skin. I lift my arm and the weight of the armor is as familiar as an old friend just returned home as I drape it over my chairback. Then, slowly, I lift my eyes to Thomas. His pupils dilate and he falls back a pace before catching himself.

Fran reaches us and gives Thomas and little Ariel a dagger-filled look. “Scram,” she orders.

Thomas’s head snaps in her direction. He glances at me, face red, then says to her, “You’d better be careful who you associate with, Fran.” He spins away and Ariel casts me a last venomous look before following him to desks near the door.

As Fran slips into the desk beside me, her expression softens and she says, “I heard what happened in the sparring gym. Are you okay?”

“Right as rain.”

“They say Ethan actually flew off with you in his arms.”

“I heard that, too,” I say. Not that I remember anything beyond the thwap, thwap, thwap of wings. I still regret that.

“Any idea who tried to…” Fran’s voice trails off.

“Could be just about anyone.”

She shivers. “That’s really terrible. I’m so glad you’re all right. I’ve never heard of anyone trying to murder someone at any Academy.”

I hadn’t, either. Fran natters on about her classes and I’m surprised by the desire to return to the solitude of my room. I glance at Thomas and Ariel. The fear in Thomas’s eyes a moment ago tells me he glimpsed my armor. Good. Are he and Ariel capable of murder? Maybe. Do they have the ability to use magic that can’t be stopped by dragon fire?

I haven’t forgotten the shock and fear on Ethan’s face when the spear sailed unharmed through his fire. Need yanks at my heart. I start. Uh oh. That warm, fuzzy feeling means—

I shake off the thought. I do not have genuine feelings for that damned dragon.

A tall, good-looking blond enters the room.

Fran glances at the guy and smiles. “I have to go. We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Sure,” I say.

She jumps up and hurries toward the newcomer. Halfway there, two other girls descend on him like vultures. I’m not worried about Fran, though. She’ll get what she wants.

“Thomas and Ariel are after you,” a voice behind me says.

I turn and watch the thirteen-year-old kid crawl out of a gap between a bookcase and the window to the left. My face softens in sympathy. This kid keeps popping up at the oddest times.

“They don’t like you,” he whispers. “You’re a Crowe. They say you’re calling The Shadows. That you tried to wake them—you know, the husks in the classroom.” Clearly warming to the subject, he slides into the seat to my left and continues, “They say you pulled The Shadows out of the crystal and ran Miss Mack out of her room in the dead of night and possessed her.”

“That’s some story,” I mutter. The only thing that possesses that woman is desperation for a man she can’t have.

The kid’s thin shoulders droop. “They say a lot about me, too.”

I’m curious about that, but he clams up like he’s said too much, so I simply ask, “Is Miss Mack really gone?”

“Dunno.”

I study him for a few seconds, then say, “Thanks for the info, but maybe you should find a seat far away from me.” No point in making his apparently miserable existence any worse.

He surprises me by flashing a genuine grin. “Maybe they’ll leave me alone if I’m in the company of a badass.”

“Street witch,” I correct.

“Even better,” he says.

Creaking wood draws everyone’s attention to the front of the classroom, and I tense as one of the panels in the wall opens and Headmaster Domini enters. He’s wearing the Academy’s formal hooded Professor robe with long, sweeping sleeves. The Academy crest embroidered on the sky blue silk stands out. The silken threads glisten as they catch the light. A few rows in front of me, Fran straightens and flips her hair. I roll my eyes. The girl really needs a hobby.