Page 73 of Rogue Witch

His hands slide over my skin and leave blessed coolness in their wake. A new heat builds that sends a different electrical current straight to my core. I close my eyes and will his fingers lower. He slips a finger under the lace of my thong and I draw a sharp breath at the warmth of his touch.

The classroom door creaks open.

I jar from the memory, the juncture between my legs pounding with every beat of my heart. I breathe in and out slowly until my heart slows. The damned desire persists. I rub my temples. These guys are all too intense for my comfort. Hell, even as a wolf, Caleb exuded power.

Warmth ripples through me. The wolf probably saved my life more than once in the Reaping. He stuck to me like glue. Why? Because he knew me in another life? That’s no small thing. Still, why did I meet them in this life? Given how I left things in that life, they can’t possibly think any more highly of me than Raith does. A damned good reason not to return to The Academy.

I knew these men in another life. My most recent life? What’s even more frightening is that they know I am that woman Nova. How do they know I’m her?

I shake my head. This whole thing is just…too strange. Too much. I should be loving the attention from these gorgeous men. That, I’m pretty sure, was Nova’s mistake. I can never make that mistake again. I have to stay away from them.

Truth is, even without them, can I face those students who were with me in the Reaping? The mental picture rises of the guy turning slowly, head lolling to one side, the noose around his neck. My throat tightens. Why hadn’t I saved him? I’d gotten cocky. And he’d died. There is some of Nova in me.

Nova?

Where have I heard that name before? Then I remember. Oh god, the Wall named me as a High Potential, but not just me. Nova and others. I close my eyes and envision the Wall that first day at The Academy. He names appear in memory, Ciarah, Brin, Emma and Nova.

I snap open my eyes. Nova was a past life. That has to mean the other three are past lives. How did the Wall know of these four incarnations? I suddenly wish Grams was here. She would know what all this means. I hysterical giggle escapes my mouth. Grams and I now have more in common than I ever thought we would. She practiced Shadow magic, I have Shadows inside me. Maybe Ariel was right—after all, even a psychopath like her can be wrong all the time—maybe I am like Grams.

I jam my eyes shut. Here we go, the bottom line. These five men frighten me, but they’re just the excuse I’m using not to admit the truth. I’m a coward. That’s the real truth. I don’t want to face anyone who will discover that Shadows are inside me.

I am a fucking coward.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

CALEB

An hour later, I leave Ethan in Raith’s office to discuss business that doesn’t interest me. Raith gave grudging permission for me to stay on Academy grounds. As if he could force me to leave. I emerge from the building into the night. I love brisk winter nights like these. I take the half dozen steps to the walkway, then reach the trees a moment later. I shift into wolf form and locate Leilah’s scent among the myriad of other human scents. I follow it to a dormitory called Penncarrow. I halt within the trees and scan the windows of the building for any sign of her. I sigh. She could be anywhere. I could enter the building and follow her scent to her room. Would she allow me inside? Yes.

I shift into human form and emerge from the trees, wearing jeans, a long sleeve shirt, and a swede jacket and boots. I enter the building and shift back into wolf form. I easily pick up her scent and climb four flights of stairs and track her to room 410. I sniff at the crack beneath the door. The Fae has been here and he and Leilah—

We all know we share Leilah, but for her to have turned to Blade mere hours after we returned from the Reaping hurts. I sniff the crack beneath the door again. They were here, but they’re gone now. I back up several steps. They didn’t leave together. I return to the front door, then raise up on my hind legs and push the door open. I bound outside and follow her trail through the trees to the south wall.

I stare up at the eight-foot-high wall. So, she broke out of this prison. How did she leave without getting permission to leave? I laugh mentally. I’m betting she got permission from Blade, who didn’t tell Raith. I’m half tempted to return to Raith’s office and tell him how well his blood pact is working, but I’m not going to out Leilah—though I’m not thrilled with her taking off on her own. There’s only one way to make sure she’s okay.

I back up thirty feet, lunge forward into a run and, seconds later, sail over the wall. I land on the other side in snow trodden only by Leilah’s booted feet. I don’t need a wolf’s keen sense of smell to follow her trail south. I follow her boot prints along the side road to the main road where large houses sit on acres of land. Ten minutes later, I discover that she got into a car at a deserted intersection. I catch a strange scent. The driver? Maybe, but the scent is—

Demon.

My hackles raise. Demons near The Academy? I recall Blade telling me about the Thol’guk at Miriam Crowe’s home. This scent isn’t the large green demon. I lower my head and slowly scan my surroundings for anything those sneaky creatures might shift into but detect nothing. I sniff the air, but still catch only the hint of its scent. I jerk my head in the direction of Leilah’s scent. Is a demon tracking her?

An approaching car draws my attention behind me. I can’t see the car beyond the curve in the road, but it’ll be here soon. Even on a cloudy night like tonight, the car’s headlights are sure to illuminate me. I race across the street and into the trees as the car’s headlights appear around the curve and a large, black SUV with tinted windows speeds past.

After half a dozen paces, I halt. Another scent captures my attention. Vampire. And he’s been here recently. I scan the trees. Nothing. Is he one of the students? Leilah is likely not the only student who plays hooky.

I continue south for half a mile before reaching an intersection. I wait for two passing cars, then pick up Leilah’s scent. I duck back into the forest and follow the road until the trees quickly thin, where I race across open field. A wolf sighting in Westchester County, New York, would cause a stir after the absence of wolves these last centuries. Another car approaches. I drop onto my haunches on the snowy ground behind a fallen tree and wait until the small sedan passes, then follow the trail for two miles before I catch a whiff of the demon again.

I halt among the trees and a growl rumbles from my chest. I concentrate my sense of sight and smell but, still, can’t get a lock on him. Demons are among the most difficult creatures to track.

I follow Leilah’s scent and get lucky when her driver doesn’t jump onto one of the parkways but stays on backroads until, twenty minutes later, I enter the shadows of a sparse residential area. It’s still early evening. Traffic is light, but I’ll have to be careful. A wolf sighting will put the entire county on my trail. As a human, my sense of smell isn’t good enough for me to track Leilah. Where is she headed?

I weave between houses while following her trail another mile to where she exited the car and crossed the street to a three-story house. The nearest streetlight is forty feet away. Leilah doesn’t have the front porch light on. No light shines on the porch of the neighboring house. Good.

Crouched in the yard across the street, I peer through dense shrubbery at Leilah’s house. A small sign to the right of the front door reads Crowe Potionary. Crowe Potionary? Her grandmother’s house? This is where Miriam Crowe died—or drilled her way into Hell—using Shadow magic. What does Leilah want here? Knowing her, she’s running her own little investigation.

A hint of light seeps over the backyard fence between her house and the neighbor to the right. I catch the smell of something…. The pig. I sneeze. Leilah’s familiar might be as formidable a protector as I am.

Three cars approach. I drop to my belly and watch until they pass. A figure crosses in front of the front curtained window of the house. Hunger ignites in me. Leilah. I need to be near her, to see for myself that she is still well. Memory flashes of her falling into my arms and the blood that stained the front of the red dress she wore the day Cordero shot her forty years ago. I block the image. She’s here, alive and well, and as strong and beautiful as ever.