Royals of Villain Academy 1: Cruel Magic Read online

  My shoulders came up. I didn’t need any practice to know how to respond to that. “What the hell did you do to her?”

  He cocked his head as his gaze came back to me. “We can’t talk freely when there’s a feeb around. When I snap her out of it, she’ll just think her thoughts wandered off for a minute.”

  For the first time, I noticed the gleaming leaf pin by the neckline of the girl’s shirt. She was one of the Nary students Professor Banefield had mentioned.

  And this jerk had talked about putting her into a stupor the same way you might mention leashing a dog.

  He was already sauntering closer to me, leaving Victory to trail behind him. He tossed the cloth bag onto the dining table, and I caught a whiff of a meaty, citrusy smell that made my mouth water. My stomach probably would have gurgled again if it hadn’t balled into a knot of repulsion.

  “I think we got off on the wrong foot earlier. I’m Malcolm Nightwood, the Nightwood scion.” He made a grand gesture toward himself and pointed to the copper-haired guy who’d come up beside him, who offered a cheeky wave. “This jackass is Jude Killbrook.” Then to the beefy guy, who was watching me with a small smile that didn’t really fit his otherwise stern expression. “Our resident blockhead, Connar Stormhurst.” Then my former captor/rescuer. “And the stuffed shirt over there is Declan Ashgrave.”

  My eyes leapt to the guy with the bright hazel eyes, whose voice had been so gentle in the midst of the carnage this morning. “We met earlier,” he said, in an even tone I couldn’t read. “Welcome to the pentacle of scions.”

  So he was the Ashgrave I’d heard the head of the group talking to. He stood a little more rigidly than the others, but he didn’t look any more bothered by Malcolm’s casually insulting description of him than the other two did. Did he actually like this guy?

  They were waiting—for me to return the introduction, obviously. “Rory Fra—I mean, Bloodstone,” I said, stumbling. “Rory Bloodstone.” For now. I motioned to the dinner he’d brought. “You really didn’t have to.”

  Victory let out a sound like a muffled snort. The guys ignored her.

  “You’re one of us,” Malcolm said. “We look after our own. You’ve made it to the right place, with the right friends—good-bye to the prissy joymancers.”

  That last remark took me from bristling to furious in an instant.

  “What if I’m not interested in being friends?” I said.

  Malcolm chuckled. “Who are you going to hang out with, then—the feebs and the wimps like you had before? We know where you belong.”

  My voice came out taut. “No. I know where I belong. And it’s nowhere near jerks like you. So why don’t you get the hell out of my dorm room and bestow your ‘friendship’ on someone who wants it?”

  The room fell into total silence, all of my dormmates watching us. Connar’s folded arms tensed. Jude let out a low whistle, but his smirk had hardened.

  “You just got here, darling,” he said. “It’s a little early to start drawing battle lines.”

  A flush colored Malcolm’s neck. His coffee-brown eyes flared with anger. “I think you need to remember who you’re talking to.”

  “I know exactly who I’m talking to,” I said. “A superficial, insecure asshole who cares more about family names than who someone is and has to resort to insulting and tormenting everyone he thinks is less than him just to feel good about himself. Why the fuck anyone would want that in their life, I haven’t got a clue.”

  One of the girls gasped. If Malcolm could have incinerated me just with his gaze, I think he would have.

  Despite his expression, his voice came out cuttingly cold. “If that’s how you want to play this, be my guest. We’ll see how quickly your feeb-dressed untrained ass comes begging us for a hand up when you see what the world is really like. And when you do, you’d better be on your knees and ready to open wide.”

  He spun on his heel and stalked out. The other three guys followed him, not even Declan glancing back. My chest twisted as he disappeared out the door.

  It looked like he was just as much of an asshole as the rest of the scions. Why the hell had he tried to be kind to me this morning if he was going to stand by while his friend talked trash about everyone and everything that had mattered to me?

  “You do know how to make an impression, don’t you?” Victory said with a sharp little smile that looked a bit smug.

  The adrenaline rush of my anger ebbed, leaving me empty. I gestured to the bag Malcolm had left behind. My stomach panged, but I knew if I ate one tidbit of the meal he’d brought, Victory would be running to him to crow about how I’d already accepted his charity.

  “If anyone wants extra dinner, you’re welcome to it,” I said, and ducked back into my room where I could be alone with all the painful sensations inside me.

  Chapter Six

  Jude

  Saying Malcolm was pissed off was like suggesting the Atlantic Ocean was a tad damp. He kept his head high and his gait steady as we crossed the landing to his dorm room, but I’d known him my whole life, and I could read his anger in every tensed muscle and flick of his gaze. He strode into the common room, where a few of his dormmates were chatting around a coffee table, and swept his arm through the air.

  “Everyone out. We need this space.”

  His smooth baritone penetrated the doors. It was nearly nine o’clock at night, but every guy in here knew better than to argue with Malcolm Nightwood.

  The three in the living area scrambled up and hustled past us without a word or even eye contact. A couple of guys who’d been in their bedrooms slipped out and fled too.

  Malcolm rolled a few syllables off his tongue that had meaning only to him, his fingers rippling like a piano player’s as he scanned the room. He was confirming no one else was still in residence. When the spell had satisfied him, he spun around to face the rest of us.

  “That brainless bitch,” he snapped.

  Everyone at Blood U knew better than to argue with Malcolm Nightwood… except our newfound Bloodstone scion.

  I might have laughed at the memory of her trying to take Malcolm on, like a lamb bleating at a fucking lion, if Malcolm hadn’t been so furious about it. If the conversation had happened in private, he might have brought her down a few pegs right there and left it at that. But she’d torn into him in front of the daughters of some of the most powerful families below the pentacle five, thrown his graciousness in his face, and he hadn’t been prepared for a fight.

  It was better that we’d left with one quick jab than stay and risk a larger fumble.

  “She’s brainless, all right,” I said, flopping onto the arm of one of the sofas. “She’s never worked a bit of magic before today, and she thinks it’s a good idea to go up against the four strongest mages in the school? She’ll regret that in no time flat.”

  “I should have flipped her on her ass right there,” Connar muttered, cracking his knuckles.

  Declan held up his hands, always the voice of reason. “But you didn’t, because no matter what she said, she’s still a scion.” He turned to Malcolm. “She didn’t really understand what she was getting into. She’s only been here a few hours.”

  Malcolm scowled. “Somehow I don’t get the impression she’s going to turn all sunshine and roses as she settles in.”

  “So we teach her what her proper place is,” I said. “And teach her quick, before she gets even farther into bad habits.” I didn’t care where she’d grown up or how ignorant she was, she couldn’t walk in here and do whatever she wanted expecting everyone to accept her like that. We all had our parts to play, scions more than anyone.

  If I’d pulled a stunt like she just had in front of that many witnesses… An uncomfortable prickle wrapped around my gut. The less I thought about that, the better.

  Years of searching to finally pluck her from our enemies’ grasp, the crown of scionhood dropped just like that onto her head where it should have been all along… You’d think she could show a little more gratitude.

  “We’ll teach her, all right.” The eagerly brutal light that was my favorite look on him came over Malcolm’s face. The corners of his lips curled upward. “Of course we will. We won’t even have to work that hard. She’s got a lot of catching up to do and an entire senior class looking for ways to earn for their leagues. A few well-placed blows, and she will come running to us begging us to have her back and help her learn the ropes. She might be a scion, but this place is ours. We decide what goes.”

  “Any blows you strike are going to need to be a lot more subtle than lighting a kid’s feet on fire if you don’t want Ms. Grimsworth cracking down,” Declan said. “Having the Bloodstone scion back under her watch is a big deal to her. You can… educate her, but we don’t want to come close to crossing any lines.”

  Malcolm scoffed. “Give me a little credit. She won’t even know what hit her.”

  Connar looked from one to the other like a pit bull ready to spring. “What’s the plan, then?”

  I leaned back against the sofa. I knew what my role here was. If any of these guys would still give me the time of day if they had the full story—which was doubtful—it’d be for my ability to provide the entertainment. So I’d keep delivering.

  “I don’t think she should get to do much other learning until she’s proven she can learn to give respect where it’s due. She’ll have a class schedule after her assessment. I can already think of a few fun ways we can make her wish she had us on her side.”

  “Do you have some new illusions up your sleeve, Jude?” Malcolm said.

  I spread my hands. “Hey, might as well earn for my league at the same time.”

  He chuckled. “Whatever. As long as it’s good, I’m down. What have you got?”

  Chapter Seven

  Rory

  Professor Banefield had said he’d come get me for my assessment at nine in the morning. It hadn’t occurred to me in the moment that I’d dropped my phone back in my parents’ house and my dorm room didn’t appear to have any clock. Maybe the other fearmancers had a magical way of telling time?

  In any case, at least it gave me one reason to be thankful that I slept so restlessly that I was up with the rising sun.

  When I ventured into the common room again, it was empty except for the Nary girl—the one Malcolm had called a “feeb”—who was eating a bowl of cereal in the same hunched defensive position I’d seen her in yesterday.

  Now that I’d seen how the mages around her were inclined to treat her, I could understand why she might take that stance. She didn’t appear to have suffered any ill effects from Malcolm’s daze, which one of the girls must have finally snapped her out of after he’d left, but what the hell did I know about the effects of that kind of magic?

  “Hey,” I said tentatively, stopping by the edge of the table. She wasn’t magical—she didn’t even know magic existed—and weirdly that made her the only person I’d met so far that I could really trust. “I didn’t expect anyone else to be up this early.”

  The girl gave me a wary look as she chewed the spoonful she’d just popped into her mouth. “I like to get out of here before anyone else wakes up,” she said, in a tone that hinted at a whole lot of hassling she’d gotten when she didn’t.

  I glanced toward Victory’s bedroom door with a grimace. “I can understand that. I’m Rory, by the way.”

  She bobbed her head, her ponytail swinging with the movement. “I heard. Ah, my name’s Shelby. Sorry you ended up stuck with this bunch.”

  My mouth twitched into a smile, and her shoulders relaxed a little. Her gaze followed me as I puttered through the kitchen. The sink was stacked with dirty dishes, a sour smell rising off them.

  “Doesn’t anyone clean up around here?” I asked.

  “The housekeeping staff come through in the middle of the day and take care of everything,” Shelby said. “That’s one thing I like about this place.”

  Because the posh fearmancers couldn’t bear to pick up after themselves? Lovely.

  I opened one of the fridges and noted the names sharpied onto every container. “I guess there isn’t any common food.”

  “No. There’s, um, a cafeteria for the juniors in Killbrook Hall, and seniors are allowed to eat there too, but… no one does. It’s basically social suicide.”

  I was pretty sure I’d already committed that at least twice since setting foot on campus. “Oh, well. Will you at least still talk to me when I’m shunned?” My smile shifted into a wry grin.

  Shelby looked as if she was surprised to find herself grinning back. She rubbed her hand across her mouth and then blurted out, “If you want, you can have some of my cereal—and milk too, of course. It’s nothing fancy.”

  A tiny spot of warmth formed amid the ache that was still squeezing my heart. “Thank you,” I said. “That would be really nice. Fancy’s not really my thing anyway.”

  By the time I’d poured myself a bowl, Shelby had already disappeared into her bedroom. How did the staff of Villain Academy convince Naries to come here? Or, maybe more pertinent, how did they convince them to stay here after the hell the regular student body must put them through?

  Questions I guessed I’d have to save for another time.

  I scooped an extra handful of cereal to carry in to Deborah and headed back to my room. She wriggled out when I opened the sock drawer. Her Thank you as I set down the cereal brought a pinch of guilt into my gut.

  “What do you actually like to eat?” I asked, feeling a little ridiculous. She’d chowed down on the pet food and bits of cheese and fruit I’d brought her happily enough the four years I’d thought she was just a mouse, but maybe there was something she’d prefer now that she could tell me about it.

  A hint of amusement crept into her dry voice in my head. Oh, any kind of human food is wonderful, really. Although I have to admit I was particularly fond of cheese even before I became a mouse.

  “I’ll see what I can do about getting you some then.”

  The woman who’d brought my birth mother’s clothes had also thoughtfully left for me a basket of basic toiletries. In the bathroom, I stayed in the shower under water scalding enough to dull the inner burn of grief until I heard someone else come in. I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out who. I waited until whoever it was had ducked into their own stall and then made a dash back to my bedroom.

  The thought of wearing any of the clothes that had belonged to my fearmancer mother made my skin crawl, but my tee and jeans from yesterday kind of smelled, and maybe I’d get what I needed here faster if I looked more the part.

  I pawed through the wardrobe until I came up with a silky blouse with a subtle print and navy slacks that matched. Neither showed a ton of skin or clung to my body too tightly, but my eyebrows went up when I looked at myself in the mirror mounted inside the wardrobe’s door.

  Holy shit. I was all sleek and professional-looking—I’d totally pass for a fearmancer now.

  The sight made me want to tear the clothes right back off. I reminded myself of my plan, confirmed that my birth mother’s old shoes were too small, and slipped on my sneakers from home. The black suede didn’t look too weird with the dressy outfit.

  Good luck, Deborah said when I brushed my fingers over her soft fur, giving the black splotch on her flank an extra rub the way she’d always liked.

  “Do you want me to get you, like, a book or something?” I whispered. Now that I knew my mouse had a human consciousness residing in her, leaving her to trundle around aimlessly for hours on end felt ridiculously cruel.

  Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. I just relax while the mouse instincts take over, and I don’t really get bored.

  I still hesitated before closing the wardrobe, but I did have to get going.

  Rather than wait around while the other girls bustled around the common room, I headed downstairs so I could meet Professor Banefield by the entrance to the hall. I flipped through a design book in the library for about half an hour before I spotted his barrel-chested form pushing past the doorway. I hurried over to meet him.

  “Rory,” he said, no stumbling over my preferred name this time. “You’re looking well.”

  I don’t feel it, I thought, but I just gave him a smile.

  “Are you settling in all right?” he asked as we set off along the path to the Stormhurst Building.

  “I think so.” Other than the fact that I’d managed to piss off the school royalty in less than twenty-four hours. A minor detail.

  The athletic building smelled like floor wax and a lingering whiff of sweat that apparently not even magical cleaning practices could quite remove. We found Ms. Grimsworth and four other people who I took to be professors, two men and two women, waiting in a huge gymnasium. It looked bizarrely normal with the starkly colored lines crisscrossing the pale wooden floor and the basketball hoops perched partway up the walls. I’d gone to watch a couple of the volleyball games one of my classmates was competing in at my old college, and the gym there had been pretty similar.

  “Good morning, Miss Bloodstone,” the headmistress said, her voice echoing off the high ceiling. “Are you ready for your assessment?”

  “I guess,” I said. “What do I have to do?”

  Her lips quirked into a wry smile. “Not a great deal. The process tests your innate proficiencies. The types of magic we do are divided into four major domains: Physicality, Illusion, Persuasion, and Insight. Knowing where your strengths lie will help us guide your studies. Most students here have one or two strengths. Your fellow scions each revealed three. I wouldn’t be surprised if you show the same.”

  So Malcolm and his friends really were the most powerful mages around here. And I’d made enemies out of them in two seconds flat. Nice work, Rory!

  “Okay,” I said. “That sounds simple enough.”

  “Stand in the circle there,” Ms. Grimsworth said, pointing to a blue shape marked halfway across the room. As I walked over to it, I realized the four professors formed a square around it, each an equal distance from me. I was right in the middle.