Demon Accords 8: College Arcane (19 page)

“That was bullshit. Nobody faults you for
getting smacked by a gargantuan werewolf who is three times faster
and stronger than any of us. Especially when that dick Jenks
blocked your powers. Trust me, Jetta and I know how tough they are,
and if you don’t kill them, they just Change and heal everything up
and you’re screwed. Caeco’s gotta know that,” Mack said.

Caeco beat him easily and then her boyfriend
got bitchsmacked. She’s embarrassed of me.

I put the pad down and rolled toward the
wall. The lights flickered a bit while I struggled with my
emotions.

“Well, I don’t believe that. But you rest and
I’ll go score you some really good stuff,” he said, sounding a
little weirded out. I’d kept the magic to a minimum till now, but
that was over. This morning had ended my time of hiding who and
what I was.

I was locking and warding the door every time
it closed, so I opened it for him.

“Okay, now you’re freaking me out. Do you
always do this much magicky stuff?”

I rolled back and grabbed the pad.
No. But
it hurts to move and I won’t get caught again—period.

“Yeah. I feel ya. Jetta and I vowed something
of the sort when our parents died. Don’t mind me, I’m just trying
to get used to the fact that my roommate is the male version of
Sabrina the Teenage Witch.”

A thought occurred to me.
I’m not scaring
you, am I?

“No, not really, but you’ve got this dark
mood thing going on which is totally understandable. It’s just I’ve
finally realized that despite the Mr. Normal Dude act, you are
actually, really truly a witch. And you seem a lot… I don’t know…
stronger than I thought warlocks were supposed to be.”

Yeah, well stay tuned. You ain’t seen nothing
yet.

“Okay, not making me feel better. Just heal
up and stay in one spot, okay? I’ll get some good shit from the
cooks and come back up.”

I nodded at him and he slipped out. I let him
get partway down the hall before I ordered the door closed and
locked. Then I reached under my bed and pulled out my empty
suitcase. Only it wasn’t really empty. Just spelled to look that
way. In a little cloth compartment where a normal traveler might
keep underwear and socks was a hand-bound book. My mother’s
grimoire, given to me on my sixteenth birthday by my aunt. It was
enormously valuable in its own right—the personal spell book of the
greatest of Ireland’s modern witches. But Mom was a Fire and Earth
witch like me, and her spells were all especially valuable to
someone with the same affinities.

Aunt Ash had given it to me with one
stipulation… I wasn’t to read the final five chapters until she
gave me permission. It was an on-your-honor type of promise, but I
had abided by it faithfully ever since. Till now.

Drawing a short, painful breath, I opened the
book to the last section and looked at the tidy cursive writing.
Most of it was in Gaelic, which I could generally figure out, with
a few notes in English here and there. The chapter title I
understood instantly:
cath draíochta—Battle
Magic.

Settling down, I started to read my mother’s
words, seeing my way forward with sudden clarity. College Arcane
was about to get schooled.

Chapter 19

Mack returned about forty minutes later,
carrying a big tray loaded with a bowl of creamy-looking soup and a
tall chocolatey shake. He hardly glanced at the self-moving door,
completely preoccupied by the story he could hardly wait to
tell.

“So the kitchen manager brings me this tray
and explains that she had these extra large straws and that they
should make things easier for you. Delwood, who’d been acting even
douchier than normal, pipes up and says something about you sucking
the rest of your life or some bullshit like that.

“Suddenly, every drop of liquid in every
glass or bowl on his table launches itself into his face. It was
friggin’ unbelievable. He jumps up, swearing and screaming to know
who did it, and your little friend Ryanne just stands up and
casually calls him a knob gobbling dingleberry who couldn’t be an
alpha in a dog pound. He goes red in the face and starts to come
toward her and she did something… something witchy ‘cause all of a
sudden, he gets this look on his face, turns all white, and stops
dead in his tracks. Miss Berg jumps up and starts screaming at
Ryanne to stop it. That little Irish spitfire turns to Berg and
says ‘Why? So he can hit me, too? Is this a school or a fight club?
And just try and put any bullshit Witchbands on
me
.’

“Deldouche is still standing there looking
like he’s choking on his own spit and Jenks is looking angry but
uncertain of what to do and Mrs. Velasquez calmly stands up and
says, ‘You’ve made your point, Miss Flynn. Now let him go,’ and
suddenly Delwood just drops and starts coughing and your Irish girl
sits down and goes back to dinner like nothing happened.”

I grabbed my pad.
Is she in
trouble?

“No, can you believe it? They all just sat
down and pretended nothing had happened. Except Delwood, who had to
open his trap. He says ‘You’re not always gonna be able to protect
that little shit,’ and Ryanne just starts laughing. She says, and I
quote, ‘If you believe I have to protect
him
, then you won’t
last out the week.’”

I scribbled a quick
No shit?

“Yeah, friggin’ awesome,” he said, finally
putting the tray on my lap. The bowl was deep, the soup now only
lukewarm, which was fine, and I was able to suck some through the
giant straw. It tasted great, but even opening my jaw that much was
hard and painful.

Someone knocked on the door and I exchanged a
quick glance with Mack before commanding it to open.

Ryanne stood smiling tentatively in the
doorway, one of the blonde twins behind her, looking uncomfortable.
I figure it was Britta as she wasn’t wearing a sneer or frown like
Erika seemed to do.

“Hey, D, just checking on my driver. Personal
self-interest and all. Can’t afford to freeze me tender Irish
behind off, ye see,” Ryanne said.

I tore the top page off my pad and threw the
crumpled paper onto the little pile on the floor. Then I wrote on
the fresh sheet.
Erin go bragh. Can’t put any of the green
isle’s treasures in
jepar
…
danger.

Britta snorted as she read it and Ryanne gave
me a brilliant smile. “See, Britt, he’s a charmer, this one is.”
Then she looked around the room. It was looking messy. I waved a
hand and the pile of papers shot over to the wastebasket and the
clothes on the floor slid under Mack’s bed.

Britta frowned. “For a warlock, you spend
power like it’s nothing.”

“Ah, but Britt, if ye happen to have
billions, what’s a few quid here or there,” Ryanne said, casually
sitting on the end of my bed.

“You keep saying stuff like that, but it’s
not possible,” Britta said.

“So said the witch, eh Mack?” Ryanne
said.

“Yeah, well, I don’t know squat about magic
and witch stuff, but Miss Berg was shitting marbles trying to break
Declan’s door spell thingy. Thought she was gonna stroke out in the
hall,” Mack said.

Ryanne smiled a triumphant smile at Britta,
then patted my foot. “Well, we’ll not be tiring ye out. It was a
shit deal that was done to ya. Wait… they left those foul things on
you?” she said, staring aghast at my wrists.

“Oh, it’s alright. Declan broke them,” Mack
said, trying to calm her down.

“He what? Let me see,” Britta said, striding
over to the bed and bending down to stare at my wrists.

Ryanne leaned over and grabbed my hand,
lifting it and focusing on the bronze band below it.

“It’s fecking smashed,” she said. Then she
spotted the ink on my skin. She gently twisted my wrist and looked
close at the runes. “That’s fecking brilliant,” she said, looking
at me with a funny expression that made me nervous. Britta, too,
was staring at me.

“Ah, Declan, I’m hoping that ye understand
when I told them not to take these off before… ya know? Right after
the assault. I was thinking that if anyone had done that to me,
take my power and beat me up, that I’d fecking want to smash them.
I dinnae want ye to lash out and be left with anything unfortunate
on yer soul,” Ryanne said, looking uncertain.

You made the right call,
I wrote on my
pad. Unfortunate indeed.

“Exactly. Any of us would. I doubt Jenks
would have used you as an example if he knew what ye were capable
of. It might be time for ye to stop hiding yer strength,” she
said.

Oh, it’s long past that. But hey, a new week
starts Monday, right?

“Declan, I don’t think anyone expects ye to
class on Monday,” Ryanne said, looking me over. My skin, the part
not covered by bandage wraps, was turning a deep purple over much
of my torso and face.

I’ll be there.

“Okay, well that’ll be smashing, but don’t be
going if yer ribs and jaw are still all a mess, alright?” she
asked, standing up.

“Hope you feel better soon, O’Carroll,”
Britta said, maybe actually meaning it.

“Right then. We’re off,” Ryanne said with a
big smile at me and a wave to Mack. The girls left in a swirl of
perfumed air and when the door had shut and locked itself, Mack
turned to me. “See, that girl really likes you,” he said. “And
Britta seems a lot nicer than her sister. Just as hot, but
nicer.”

So you like the tall blonde types or the
smaller Asian types?
I asked.

“Oh, I like all types. I don’t believe in
discriminating, Declan. It’s an ugly concept and I’m so not about
that,” he said smugly.

I lay back, sipping my shake, and thought
about the visit. As painful as the fight had been, both physically
and esteem-wise, at least one new friend had stood out. She’d
understood. I’d wanted to kill them so bad, right at that point
where I was most helpless. Delwood and Jenks both. Part of me still
did, still wanted me to sink back, close my eyes, and send my power
outward to find them. To silently burn out their hearts or brains,
or drop the ceiling of their room on them. Maybe short out a nearby
appliance and send thousands of high amperage volts through their
bodies until even their werewolf healing was overwhelmed. My short
read-through of mother’s grimoire had shown me the section I was
interested in, but I’d also seen sections on massive war spells,
magic of mass destruction. It was there, waiting for use. But my
reasoning side said no. It spoke logically of carefully,
strategically crafted responses that would get my revenge and show
the rest of the school a much different side of me than what they’d
seen today.

“Listen. It’s our first Friday at college and
apparently there’s a whole bunch of off-campus parties happening.
The gang wants to see if we can get into any of them. But I can
stay and hang with you, if you want?” Mack offered, almost
twitching as he checked himself in the mirror.

Can’t rest if you’re here banging around the
room. Better if you go out.

“Well, that’s true. It probably won’t be much
fun without you, but at least it’ll be quiet here, right?” he said,
zooming around the room, changing his shirt, and spraying an
obnoxious amount of Axe body scent on himself and his clothes.

There was another knock on the door and when
I opened it, Ashley, Ariel, Jetta, Justin, T.J., and Caeco were all
there. They crowded in with a burst of overwhelming noise and
confusion, asking about me, hoping I was feeling better, full of
excitement to go out. Jetta checked me over like she knew something
about medicine. Turned out she’d helped the vet treat her family’s
horses and picked up a thing or two. After a moment or two, she
herded the others out, leaving just Caeco and me.

My girlfriend was still acting awkward around
me but had taken a clinical approach, sort of an efficient
caregiver thing. She fluffed my pillows, moved a bottle of water
closer, and placed the tray of food on a little green stuffed stool
right next to the bed.

“I think some of my nanites may still be in
you. They’ll help you heal,” she said, looking around for something
else to move or pick up.

I wanted to ask her about her embarrassment
with me, but I couldn’t bring myself to write the words. To ask if
she was ashamed of my showing—or complete lack of showing—today.
Three times I picked up the pen, but I always chickened out. What
if she admitted it out loud? How would I handle that? The moment
passed and she gave me an awkward kiss on the top of my head, a
troubled glance, and was gone.

The noise of my friend pack dwindled down the
hall as they headed out for their first college social adventure
while I lay in my bed, still having trouble breathing.

This was not how college was supposed to be,
not how I’d envisioned it.

I let myself wallow in the injustice of it
for a minute, then I snapped out of it. Sipping more soup, I pulled
mom’s grimoire out from under the covers and started to read.

The first topic was battlefield healing and
after reading it through twice, I got out a Sharpie and paper and
drew me some runes of healing, following my mother’s clear
instructions, almost hearing her voice in my head.