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“Oomph.”
An arm hooks around me, stopping me from falling on my ass.
Opening my eyes, I can only deep frown at the random dude, who I realize is one of the jocks from the library who was talking smack about me.
“Look who it is,” he teases with a cocky grin. “Miss Smart As—”
The way my whole body grows rigid is the only warning I get before swift waves of power rush past us so quickly, it’s gone in a blink.
Leaving everything around us in utter disaster.
The screams of agony are only the tip of the iceberg, but I’m still staring at the jock looking down at me.
I notice I’m falling back again, but another set of hands stops me from falling to the ground.
“If he wasn’t focused on your ass, he would have been able to finish his sentence.”
It takes everything not to tug my eyes away and acknowledge the man who’s keeping me afloat, but my soul knows that if I look away, I’ll miss the inevitable.
Watching this jock’s body slide to the floor in two pieces.
Three, if you count his arm that was previously holding me.
No words can explain the true horror of witnessing someone perish in mere seconds before you, but then again, my mind, body, and magic are telling me that this can happen to me if I don’t snap the fuck out of it.
Slowly glancing up rewards me with the sight of Professor North.
His attention is all on me as he stares down at me with an expressionless stare. It’s as if whatever happened before my eyes is nothing but a delay in his plans, which I’m assuming is getting to his first class.
I’m slowing him down.
“Morning, Professor North.” I’m impressed that my voice doesn’t reflect the shock that’s making my heart gallop against my chest.
“Should I ask why you’re in between two buildings?” he sounds annoyed.
Figures.
“No.” I’m being honest. “But if you really want to know, it’ll probably piss you off or get me suspended before school begins, so we don’t need to talk about it.”
We stare at one another.
“I already feel like you’ll be nothing but a nuisance to me, Miss Guinevere,” he complains.
“A nuisance that makes nice birthday cakes?” I offer.
He briefly stares down at me before he helps me stand up properly.
“Seven out of ten.”
“Honestly, that feels like an A+ in your book,” I approve and try not to focus too much on the pool of blood at my feet.
“The melody of your moans sounds better.”
I almost miss what he grumbles under his breath, but I can’t confront him because the man is walking away.
As if twenty students aren’t lying sliced and dead on the school grounds.
“If I get into the classroom before you, Miss Guinevere, I’m marking you as late.”
