Page 92 of Reckless Witch

I blow out a frustrated breath. The Watchman looks my way, but I ignore him as we reach Leeds Hall and hurry up the four steps to the main entrance. Warmth washes across my face as we enter the building. In the hallway, I receive the usual stares as students part like the Red Sea so the Watchman and I can pass. Fuck them. I’ve got Stony. I gently pat my pocket and am sure I feel her wiggle as I near the newly reopened Potions class.

I’ve been assigned to the advanced class. No surprise there. I’m a Crowe, after all, a detail not lost on anyone as I step through the door. Heads turn. Whispers float through the room. I catch sight of shelves lined with jars and I’m swept back to my first day at school when Ethan found me here. God, I can almost feel his cock pressed against my ass. He’d been so hard.

A girl doesn’t needs dragons when she has a pig?

I mentally grimace. That might be going just a little too far.

I glimpse a narrow-eyed glance a girl shoots my way. What had made me think I would find any welcome at The Academy? Given that everyone believes Grams was practicing Shadow magic, can I blame them? Why would they think I’m any different?

Am I different? I have Grams’ spell book, a spell book that might contain Shadow magic. I had intended to get the book to give up its secrets immediately after Stony and I returned to my room, but hadn’t had the energy. I haven’t even told Stony about the book.

My heart skips a beat. I’m withholding important information. Does that make me the same as Blade? Will Stony think I’ve betrayed her? Will The Three think I’ve betrayed them? What if the book does contain Shadow magic? I think about Eddy Hanks. Oh God, what if I am like Grams?

I reach the last row of desks and notice Thomas leaning against a small wooden worktable. He says nothing…well, verbally, anyway. His eyes spit fire.

Eddy Hanks, my inner voice whispers. Shame warms my face. I break eye contact with Thomas and drop into the desk seat as the door opens and Headmaster Domini enters, quite suave in a white, button-down shirt and navy slacks. That’s right. He’s a Master of Potions, but I hadn’t realized he actively taught. He leans against the table at the head of the class, crosses his arms, and begins a talking about basic herb potions.

Ten minutes later, I conclude that Grams could have magicked circles around Domini. As advanced as this class is, it’s still beneath my level. I’d learned everything in this current lesson by age eleven, but I don’t mind the refresher course. The headmaster is easy on the eyes and something about his voice is mesmerizing, like the roll of waves on a beach. I slump in my seat and relax, wishing I could sleep with my eyes open.

Near the end of class, there’s a pop quiz. I pass with flying colors even though my thoughts wandered during the lecture. I shuffle out, ignoring the wide berth other students give me.

While I lived with Grams, I was a typical kid. I laugh at myself. Well, maybe not typical, but more average than I became on the streets. Oddly, the nearly fifteen years spent with Grams seems like a dream compared to my homeless years. I don’t remember what it feels like to be a part of society. Margidda’s underworld. Abaddon, is a dark place. Even there, I operated under the radar by steering clear of the big dogs and by staying small. Except for Eddy Hanks. I guess there’s good reason for my being accustomed to being on the outside. Still, it hurts that the students so easily swallow Thomas and Ariel’s lies about me. Are they lies?

I leave the classroom and the Watchman falls into step alongside me. I’ve got a two-hour break before martial arts class. A shiver ripples through me. At least, martial arts is outside—away from spears mounted on walls. A lighter shiver prickles across my arms, only this one isn’t remembered fear. I look left and spot Blade striding toward me from the walkway leading to Penncarrow Hall. Before I can halt the reaction, my pulse quickens.

I’m ashamed to admit that I’m not sure if my reaction is because Blade is just so damned beautiful dressed in jeans and a leather bomber jacket or if it’s the blood pact connection. A group of young female students wave to him and giggle when he smiles at them as he passes.

He reaches us and nods to the Watchman. “Thanks, Joseph. I’ll walk Leilah to her dorm.”

“No need to bother,” I say, and keep walking.

The Watchman hesitates and Blade adds, “Why don’t you wait for us at her dorm?”

Joseph—I’m ashamed to admit, I never asked his name—nods and strides on ahead of us.

I want to shout for Blade to go away. I want to punch his jaw so hard he feels pain clear down to his balls. I want to run away and never see him. But there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to fuel the rumor mill. Not about this.

“That man is the size of a troll,” I say in a conversational tone. I keep my gaze straight, but I’m aware of Blade’s glance.

“That’s common for the Watchmen,” he says. “They’re like the knights of old, large, skilled and fearless.”

“I had a crush on one when I was thirteen.” I lengthen my stride. “He wasn’t as large as Joseph, but he was huge.” I recall the man. Tall, dark and very handsome. He had kind eyes. “At least, my thirteen-year-old self thought he was huge. I was only five feet tall at the time. He had to be six five.”

Blade angles his head in my direction and says, “You like tall men, do you?”

A tremor ripples through my stomach. I hate myself for still finding him attractive. That voice. God.

Something white lands on my eyelash. I blink. A snowflake. Another, larger one, lands on my eyelash. Blade grasps my arm and pulls me to a stop. I freeze when he cups the side of my face and brushes a thumb across the eyelash that the snowflake clings to. Two male students approach, but my legs don’t obey my command to start walking.

Blade’s gaze lingers on my face, not on my eyes. “It’s snowing.”

I nod. The tenderness in his voice startles me. God, his eyes are so blue.

“Did you know who I was when you first met me?” I ask.

He blinks and his hand drops away from my cheek. He steps back. I sway slightly at the loss of warmth that had cocooned us.

“You did.” Pain tightens like a vice around my heart. I’m a complete idiot.