Royals of Villain Academy 8: Vicious Arts Read online

  Vicious Arts

  Book 8 in the Royals of Villain Academy series

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  First Digital Edition, 2020

  Copyright © 2020 Eva Chase

  Cover design: Christian Bentulan, Covers by Christian

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-989096-56-7

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-989096-57-4

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Next from Eva Chase

  Academy of the Forgotten excerpt

  About the Author

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  Chapter One

  Rory

  A moment before my phone chimed, the four guys waiting in the scion lounge with me had been casually shooting the breeze. Malcolm Nightwood and Connar Stormhurst were facing off over the pool table, Jude Killbrook and I had launched into another round of his favorite racing game, and Declan Ashgrave was nursing an espresso in the armchair next to me.

  At the thin sound, every mouth snapped shut and every pair of eyes shot to me. I’d never seen a text alert met with such solemn anticipation. Jude paused the game. Malcolm lowered the pool cue he’d been about to aim with, the base rapping sharply against the floor.

  I jerked forward to grab my phone off the coffee table. It wouldn’t necessarily be the message we’d been waiting for… but it was. My mother’s name stood out starkly at the top of the text. I need you at the main residence this afternoon, 4pm. We have things to discuss with the other barons.

  I’d bet we did. I rested the phone on my knee, my mouth gone dry. I wasn’t supposed to know what she was referring to—none of us in the room were. My mother didn’t realize I was getting inside info from her assistant, Maggie, who didn’t agree with the barons’ recent plans any more than I did. Mostly because their recent plans had involved using the magic we all could wield—magic fueled by fear—to terrorize the nonmagical locals we’d previously kept ourselves secret from.

  Apparently the barons planned to blow up that secrecy on a nation-wide scale. We’d secretly ruined their attempt to rule over the town just off the university campus, but rather than take that failure as a signal to back off or at least slow down, they were dreaming up ways to exert their influence on the highest levels possible.

  Maggie had warned me that my mother would probably want to loop me in today. The five of us scions had been distracting ourselves, waiting for that call.

  “She wants me to meet her at the Bloodstone residence for a discussion with the barons.” I glanced at Declan, who was nearly a baron himself, even if the others had been shutting him out lately because of his family’s known sympathies for the Naries. “Nothing on your end?”

  He took out his own phone to check and shook his head. “Obviously they can’t be bothered to include me in this discussion. If they’re willing to make decisions this big without any Stormhurst baron at all, they can’t feel that guilty about leaving me out too.”

  The former Stormhurst baron, Connar’s mother, had died at my mother’s hand just a couple days ago. Her loss should have shut down any further major changes, but it seemed the remaining barons had decided to throw the laws out the window.

  “They’re leaving all of the rest of us out,” Malcolm said, his smoothly confident voice gone ominously dark. “We’re scions just as much as Rory is, but no one’s summoning me or Connar or Jude to join the discussion.”

  “That’s hardly a surprise in my case or Mr. Musclehead’s,” Jude said wryly with a tip of his head toward Connar’s brawny form. “Baron Killbrook wants me dead, and Conn was openly defying his mother before she kicked the bucket. I suppose your dad realized you’re the one who got your sister out of there and figures that can’t mean anything good.”

  His assessment of the situation sounded about right. Jude had been assaulted and nearly killed once already this month, by an attacker we had to assume had been sent by his supposed father to cover up the fact that Jude wasn’t really his son. Connar had refused to spend any time in his mother’s presence since his parents had temporarily magically manipulated him into hating me, and Malcolm had removed his younger sister from the Nightwood home just a couple days ago to keep her out of reach of his father’s anger.

  He hadn’t done anything to piss off Baron Nightwood directly yet, but chances were high he’d do that soon. Also two days ago, the five of us had agreed that we wanted to be there for each other in every way for as long as we possibly could, both as colleagues and as lovers, and Malcolm refused to continue pretending he supported the man who’d tried to ruin my life more than once. After we’d gotten the news about the barons’ new focus, we’d agreed that we were done trying to play their political game.

  People had already died because of the new campaign to rule over the Naries. Children had died. The memory of the little boy lying limp and bleeding on one of the town’s driveways made my stomach turn with a jab of guilt because I hadn’t managed to intervene.

  We couldn’t stand by and wait for the perfect opportunity anymore. This might be the best chance we got, with only three barons to contend with and their allegiance no doubt shaken by the fact that the evidence Connar and I had planted suggested Baron Stormhurst had sabotaged their experiment in town. Standing up to them was a huge step, but with the five of us presenting a united front, I didn’t think they could outright ignore us.

  I stood up. “Well, you’re coming anyway, whether they like it or not. We should leave in the next hour—she wants me there by four.” I hesitated, the enormity of the step we were about to take looming over me. “That is, assuming you want to go ahead with our protest.”

  Malcolm tossed his pool cue onto the rack. “It’s been a long time coming—I’m not leaving it any longer.” He walked over to me, his hand rising as if to rest on my back, but at the last second he stopped, his fingers closing. His arm dipped down toward the arm of the sofa for a second before he offered the touch after all.

  That kind of uncertainty wasn’t like the Nightwood scion. He’d acted a little strange with me right after he’d gotten back from moving his sister to her new apartment, but we’d gotten caught up in dealing with the bigger news. Now wasn’t the time to try to hash out a possible personal issue either. I set my hand on his shoulder, hoping the gesture would at least reassure him about whatever was on his mind.

  Beside us, Declan’s mouth twisted into a thin smile. “If they’re going to shut me out anyway, it doesn’t benefit me to k
eep playing by the rules.”

  Jude sprang up from the sofa, flicking his dark copper hair back from his eyes. “Watch you tell off those three jackasses, Fire Queen? I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

  A solemn expression tensed Connar’s chiseled face as he set his own cue on the table. “Since we have time, should we ask some of the Guard to come along? There are only three full barons now, but they are still barons. Extra backup might be useful.”

  The barons did have plenty of power that went beyond their political status. The five families that ruled over fearmancer society were the strongest mages around, and our parents had far more practice at using their skills than we did.

  I nodded. “And having people from the Guard along will give us witnesses—they’d be able to spread the word that the scions are on the Naries’ side now. I don’t think we should bring a huge crowd, but if we each have one person along for support, that should be a decent size. We’re still trying to solve this by talking if we can. We don’t want to look like we’re marching into battle with them.”

  Baron Nightwood had accused me of trying to form an army when he’d first found out about the Scions’ Guard—a group of fellow students the guys and I had recently started recruiting. Our official story was that we simply wanted to ensure our safety after Jude’s attack and the chaotic magical aggression that had broken out on campus once the nonmagical students had become open targets. The baron hadn’t been completely wrong, though. We’d picked people we believed were against the new policies victimizing the Naries in the hopes that they’d support us on those matters too.

  It was time to find out exactly how loyal those allies would be when called to a real conflict like this. I just hoped we wouldn’t end up leading them into literal battle.

  “We’ll meet at the garage in forty-five minutes?” Declan said.

  I let out a shaky breath. “Sounds like a plan.”

  My heart thudded as I headed up the stairs to my dorm, figuring that was the best place to look for the current members of my part of the Guard. My first two recruits had come from among my dormmates.

  One of those girls, Victory Blighthaven, was lounging on a sofa in the common room when I came in. A couple of our other dormmates were eating lunch at the long dining table. Victory looked up at my entrance, and I tapped the front of my shoulder, the same spot where she had her Guard badge pinned on her sweater.

  I didn’t want to say anything in front of the others. If their families were particularly devoted to the barons, word might get back to my mother and the others before we could make our appearance.

  Victory followed me into the hall and then the stairwell with a toss of her auburn waves. Even now that she was on the Guard, she seemed to feel she needed to make a point of not caring that much what I might have to say. For most of my time at Blood U we’d been at odds; I didn’t think we would ever become actual friends. But that was part of the reason I trusted her. While she might not like me, she’d proven that she could set aside her ego enough to recognize my authority when our goals aligned. And I never had to worry that she’d lie to me to spare my feelings.

  I cast a quick deflective spell around the stairs to temporarily ward off anyone who might have otherwise passed by. “The barons are getting ready to push their agenda against the Naries even more,” I said. “All of us scions are going to confront them and make it clear we don’t agree with the direction they’re taking. We’re hoping to bring a little backup just in case things go sour—or, I’d prefer, to make it less likely that they will. Are you in?”

  Victory frowned. “I’ll be openly going against the barons myself, then.”

  “You would,” I said. “It’s okay if you’re not ready to do that. They’ll probably mostly see it as us ordering the rest of you to help us rather than an idea you came up with on your own, if that makes you feel any better about it. And… I don’t think they’re going to back down until enough people stand up to them. If you want all the crap on campus to stop, we could use your help.”

  She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Is it true what they’re saying—that your mother killed Baron Stormhurst?”

  I’d known that incident couldn’t stay under wraps for long. “She found evidence that Baron Stormhurst was the one who called in the joymancers to defend the Naries in town. That’s how she responded.”

  Victory’s gaze turned more considering. The scions hadn’t told our Guard what we were planning, but she had to suspect, given what she knew about me, that I was a heck of a lot more likely to think of turning to the joymancers for help than any of the barons were. Most fearmancers saw the mages who worked with joy as the enemy—and the feeling was mutual. But I’d been raised by joymancers for most of my life, and I’d seen how generous and loving they could be too, even if they rarely extended those attitudes to fearmancers.

  “All right,” my former nemesis said. I wasn’t sure what had convinced her, but maybe she’d simply decided that she was safer throwing her lot in with the scions than the three remaining barons. “Do I need to come now?”

  “We’re meeting at the garage in about half an hour. Grab your jacket and maybe something to eat if you haven’t already—it’s going to be a bit of a drive.”

  Back in the dorm, I ducked into my bedroom to grab my own jacket, bundling myself in the thin but down-filled layers of fabric. Far from the first time, a pang of longing ran through me to have my familiar here, to tell her what I was about to do and let out my hopes and my fears.

  Deborah had been much more than a mouse. The joymancers who’d stolen me away from my real home had transferred the consciousness of a dying woman into her so she could keep an eye on me. But she’d become a friend as much as a guard over the time we’d spent together. Last month, she’d died protecting me. The physical pain of the severed connection had faded, but the emotional loss lingered on.

  I took some time to sit on my bed and compose myself, imagining how I wanted this scene to play out. Then, girding myself, I headed out.

  Declan was already waiting in the garage with his younger brother, who was part of the Guard. The Ashgrave scion had been hesitant to involve Noah in our political conflicts at all—he’d spent most of his life doing everything he could to keep his brother out of the line of fire. But the younger guy was pretty insistent, and he’d managed to convince Declan that they were both better off if they stuck together.

  “I’m thinking we split up between three cars,” Declan said as I joined them. “The more cohesively we can arrive together, the easier it’ll be.”

  “Agreed. And we’ll want to keep an eye on each other as we’re driving to make sure we do arrive at the same time. I don’t want anyone to end up literally shut out.”

  Malcolm, Connar, and Jude showed up a few minutes later with three more members of the guard in tow and Victory trailing behind them. I was pretty sure all of those three were among the many classmates Malcolm had gotten on board. I didn’t always agree with the Nightwood scion’s methods when it came to imposing his authority, but he had formed connections with our peers from all across the school. Which was a good thing, because Jude, at least, hadn’t really chummed up to anyone outside the pentacle of scions, so he was relying on his friend’s social circle for support.

  I waved Jude over to join me at my Lexus. His father’s attack had left his capacity for magic severely damaged—he could barely gather enough energy to cast fairly simple spells, and only one or two of those before he drained himself. I was the only one of the scions who was strong in all four areas of magic. If anyone could offset the power he’d lost, it’d be me.

  And I’d be damned if anyone hurt him again.

  “We’ll ride together,” I said, including the guy who’d followed him in my gesture. “And we really should get a move on.”

  Jude raised an eyebrow at me, so I suspected he guessed at my line of thinking, but he didn’t argue. All he said as he slid into the back was, “Next time, I drive.”r />
  We reached the Bloodstone manor with the wind warbling around the car and Declan’s and Malcolm’s cars right behind mine. Several vehicles I didn’t recognize cruised out through the gate toward us, forcing me to ease the Lexus closer to the right side of the lane. My stomach tightened as I watched them leave. It looked as though the barons had already started—and finished—a different meeting even I hadn’t been invited to.

  I spoke a casting word to keep the gate open and drove on in. The guys parked on either side of me. We all got out together, our Guard flanking us. Ignoring the stutter of my pulse, I raised my chin and strode up the front steps at the head of our pack.

  The house manager, Eloise, came into the front hall to meet us and blinked at the size of our group. “Miss Bloodstone?” she said tentatively. “I’m not sure—”

  “It’ll be okay,” I said with as much assurance as I could summon. “Where are they?”

  “Well, I…” She dragged in a breath. “All right. They’re in the main dining room. Come along.”

  I didn’t really need her to guide the way, but I let her anyway. I hadn’t spent much time in my home’s main dining room since I’d returned to the fearmancer realm—the huge twelve-seater mahogany table had felt too intimidating for the solo meals I’d eaten before my mother had returned. Normally when I’d been here, I’d taken a plate into one of the cozier sitting rooms.

  The space was appropriate for a baron-style meeting, though. I walked in under the glinting chandelier to find my mother sitting at the head of the table and Barons Nightwood and Killbrook next to her on opposite sides. Maggie and a young man who must have been assisting one of the other barons stood motionless near the wall behind them. A few of the other chairs were pulled a little out in the wake of the visitors we’d seen leaving. I counted eleven wine glasses around the table, most of them drained, the tang of alcohol giving the atmosphere an uncomfortably celebratory vibe.