Bloodrage (Blood Destiny #3)

Bloodrage (Blood Destiny #3) Page 8

I considered whether I should have just left the books where they were. The fact that both of them had materialised under my nose – and that fate had conspired to force me to trip over right next them to them - suggested to me that it hadn’t been an option. Certainly not if the headache had been going to continue anyway. No, I had done the only thing I could do. And the overwhelming curiosity to discover exactly what lay inside the Fae book was searing its way through me.

I swung round past the dining hall and took a quick peek inside as I went past. The entire room was empty and it seemed pretty clear that I’d missed lunch by at least an hour. I knew I had Illusion and Divination 101 classes to get to, but I reckoned that I could easily make it back to my room first to drop off the books and hide them somewhere safe before I found out where I was really supposed to be.

As I reached the staircase up to the dormitory level, I noticed with a sinking feeling that Thomas was standing there, arms folded, watching my approach. His back was ramrod straight, exactly as if the metaphorical poker up his arse reached through his spine and into his skull. That probably accounted for the lack of brain cells, I figured sardonically.

I made it just past him and was on the step beyond, when he decided to speak.

“So I hear that your classes yesterday didn’t go so well?”

Smug bastard. I resisted the impulse to turn and just carried on walking, ignoring him completely. Unfortunately, he decided to join my ascent up the stairs and continued to talk.

“That’s a real shame, you know,” he said, without a trace of apparent emotion in his voice. “It’ll be interesting to see how you do this afternoon though.”

I ignored him and continued walking up the stairs, keeping my arms closely clenched to my sides. It was probably fortunate for both of us that when he grabbed my shoulder, I was sentient enough to not react physically.

“What?” I snapped.

“Look, Mackenzie, I’m sorry.”

I paused, entirely befuddled. Thomas continued, “I shouldn’t have done that. With the whole, you know, shave your hair thing. It was immature.”

Well, score one for the idiot in a frock. I stared hard at the mage, trying to work out what he was up to now. “Yeah, it was, Thomas.”

He flicked at an invisible strand of hair. “I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. Perhaps we can start over.” He took his hand off my shoulder and thrust it out, palm extended upwards.

I fixed my gaze on his hand. I had no idea whether this was some kind of trick or not, but I was pretty sure that if I reached out to shake his hand in a gesture of peace that I would lose my grip on the filched books. I didn’t think that he’d be so friendly if they fell to the floor and exposed my sneaky theft. I prayed to myself that he couldn’t actually read my mind while my bloodfire swirled nervously around, flickering through my veins with dulled heat. I cleared my throat, “Well then, I apologise if I hurt you.”

His hand remained outstretched. “Fortunately we have some dedicated healers whose talent is virtually unsurpassed.”

I thought of Julia and had my doubts at that, but I shrugged anyway and hoped he’d go away. No such luck, however.

Thomas had apparently worked out that I wasn’t going to shake his hand in return. He shrugged and withdrew his arm, but there was a flash of something indefinable in his eyes. “Still, it did have one positive outcome,” he said, his voice somewhat flatter now.

I turned to face him, exasperation getting the better of me. “What? What positive outcome did it have?”

His eyes gleamed. “You will start Protection lessons tomorrow after all. And they will be with me.”

Oh fucking hell. “Great,” I muttered. “Except I think I’ve proved that I’m better at Protection than you.”

“At attacking, perhaps. But being truly gifted at Protection involves learning how to hold back and use control.” He bared his teeth in what I suppose could be called a smile. “So that’s what we’ll be doing. I will be making you learn how to control yourself. I’ve realised that it’s not fair for me to judge you so harshly. Of course it’s not your fault that you act like an untrained creature. After all, you did spend all that time with the shifters. It’s no wonder you have base feral instincts.”

Bloodfire roared in my ears with the unfiltered rage of a thousand angry devils. The only thing that brought me back from the brink and saved Thomas – and me - this time was that at that particular point one of the books tucked under armpit chose that moment to suddenly begin to slide down. I clenched my arm tighter to my side and willed it stay put, biting my tongue until I tasted the hot iron rich blood.

“I hope that we can put all this unpleasant business behind us and become, if not friends, then collegiate colleagues instead.” He reached out to squeeze my shoulder again, but this time seemed to think better of it and let his hand drop back down to his side.

It took every fibre of my being to not flinch, and to instead grit my teeth and smile back at him. The book slipped an inch further down and I could feel the trickle of sweat behind the nape of my neck.

I cast my eyes down so I didn’t have to look at him. “I thank you for your gracious tutelage, Mage Thomas.”

He was silent for a moment, clearly wondering whether I was taking the piss or not. Then he shrugged nonchalantly and nodded to himself. “You’d best be on your way then, Initiate.”

I didn’t want to move until he did. I was sure that if I started walking back up the stairs, there was no way that my now sweat-damp skin would be able to keep the book gripped in place. Perhaps I could mimic conformity and make it appear that I was waiting for him to go first to show respect. He stayed motionless for a heartbeat longer, but my fake tractability must have worked, because he eventually moved off and back down the staircase, calling out behind him, “Looking forward to tomorrow, Initiate!”

The bloodfire flared inside me for a moment, leaping up to my throat, then I tensed my body to attempt to keep the book in place for just a few minutes more, slowly turning and walking up the stairs and away from Thomas.

Fate was finally smiling down on me as the entire dormitory corridor was empty of people. Everyone had to be out studying or in lessons. With the risk of discovery lessening by the minute, I picked up speed and eventually made it back to my small little room. Of course, by the time that I did so, the second book had started to also slide its way down my side, whilst the first was virtually at my hip. As soon as the door closed behind, I let my muscles release their grip and both copies fell to the floor from under my robes with staggered thumps.

Then I reached out towards the bed and yanked it from its place, flipping it on its side and screamed.

Once the tension and potential bloodfire eruption had both been released, I calmly straightened the frame of the bed back to its original position and scooped both of the books up from the floor. I thought through what Thomas had said and struggled to make sense of it. Out and out aggression I could deal with. I knew how to react to that; for goodness’ sake, my blood knew how to react to that. Let’s face it, I’d had more than enough practice over the last year or two. But coping with someone who was passive aggressive was new to me. What I was supposed to do? On the surface he was apologising and handing out an olive branch. Which, I conceded, I’d probably ruined somewhat by refusing to shake his hand. The barbed comment about my ‘feral instincts’ however? If it hadn’t been for the books clutched under my sweaty armpits, I wasn’t sure what I’ve had done. There was a good chance that the Arch-Mage would have been scraping what was left of Thomas from off the polished staircase and I’d have condemned Mrs. Alcoon to spending the rest of eternity in stasis. I frowned to myself, vowing to do better next time. What was it Shakespeare had written in Macbeth? “Look like the innocent flower but be the serpent under’t”. Well, if Thomas wanted to play that game then I would rise the challenge.

I forced him out of my mind and focused instead on the matter in hand, turning the books thoughtfully over. The Fae tome continued to hum against my skin, although not unpleasantly. I scanned my small room. There were absolutely zero hiding places anywhere within its confines, other than perhaps under the pillow, which just seemed both ridiculous and pointless. Musing it over, I decided that the smartest thing to do would be to hide them in plain sight. There was nowhere I could put them where they wouldn’t be found, so if I pretended ignorance and just left them lying around as if I hadn’t just sneakily spirited them away, then perhaps no-one who entered my room would think anything of them than a little extra study materials. Maybe I could feign ignorance and pretend I hadn’t heard Slim tell me in no uncertain terms not to remove any books from within the library’s walls. I nodded to myself, then left them both casually on the bedsheet. Each one felt rather unpleasantly moist from the contact with my body. I’d just have to hope that there wasn’t any lasting damage to either.

From outside I heard the distant tolling of a bell, and then a clustered buzz of chattering and voices as the next lesson changeover took place. That meant I had just enough time to get myself to my Illusion class. I wasn’t entirely sure where it was, but maybe I would bump into Mary along the way so I wouldn’t be too late. I’d have to hope I didn’t see Thomas again too. Casting a quick glance back at the books to reassure myself that they were both there, and sending them a quick promise that I’d be back to look at them properly later, I left the room and headed off in what I presumed was vaguely the right direction.

I still felt unpleasantly damp under my robes. As I walked through an arched courtyard area towards the building where my lessons had been the day before, I attempted to take a surreptitious sniff of my armpits to see if they really were as bad as I was imagining. My actions didn’t go unnoticed, however, as a group of green-robed initiates whose acne explosions advertised their youth started snickering loudly. I glared at them and they abruptly stopped. I tipped my chin up and increased my stride, trying to make it look as if I knew exactly where I was going. I’d be damned if I’d ask any of these pimply teenagers where I was supposed to be.