Wings and Shadowthief by May Sage
A Day of Fools
1st of April, 2158
Gwen was fairly certain she’d been this gross at some point in her life, but she couldn’t for the life of her remember when. “I think I hate you.”
She’d spent the morning practicing water magic with Blair, a fire witch.
When it came to actual spells, Gwen won against Blair every single time. But the other witch didn’t play nicely. Just when she’d been ready to send a water orb, Blair sidestepped and made the tiniest of sparks bounce off Gwen’s boot. Losing both her concentration and her balance, Gwen dropped the orb, drenching the earth under their feet, and fell face first into the muddy ground.
“I’m so sorry.” Only, Blair didn’t sound sorry because she was laughing her ass off.
She’d been concerned, at first, but thanks to the protection shields they always built around themselves before practicing, Gwen hadn’t hurt herself. Her pride was the only thing that had taken a hit.
At least there had been no one to witness her humiliation. They usually trained up in Skyhall because no place in Oldcrest rivalled the Eirikrson manor when it came to training space—especially now that the rest of Night Hill had been burned down. They were slowly rebuilding a few of the houses, but it would be months before they were anywhere close to habitable. Vampires didn’t have subtle tastes.
Over the last couple of weeks, Gwen had taken to training in the woods of Cosnoc. If they were to use Skyhall, Chloe would want to join in, or at least come to watch, and that wasn’t going to fly with any of the vampires of Cosnoc.
Chloe was over six months pregnant. Vampire pregnancies lasted twenty-seven weeks, which meant that she was ready to pop any day, and her mate was going insane. Literally. He didn’t want Chloe to walk, stand, or even lift her fingers. His slayers were hardly any better. Mikar, Bash, and Sylvain, patrolled around the manor night and day, flashing their fangs at anyone who dared approach. And even Alexius, generally detached from, well, anything, was concocting potions to make sure Chloe’s energy stayed “optimal.”
Thus smothered, Chloe spent most of her time shouting at the men to leave her alone. The females, Diana, Avani and Cat, took her side, threatening their mates if they dared displease the pregnant lady.
While amusing, the hill had become a bit of a minefield. Gwen visited almost daily, but she wasn’t about to tempt the devil.
On the other hand, if they’d moved their training to Skyhall, she wouldn’t be covered in mud from head to toe.
But all other matters aside, Gwen had limited her time in the presence of her pregnant friend since that day in the cafeteria.
Her condition had remained under control, but Eirikr’s warnings were never far from her mind. If he was right, if she was that soulless thing he described, then the shift had just been the beginning.
She’d deal with it when she could. For now, the one thing she could do was practice her newfound powers.
Which were all but useless against a fire witch able to melt her icy stick with a wave of her hand.
They were walking back to the dorm when she felt it. Him.
It had been weeks since last she’d stood in front of Jack, but she could distinguish his presence so clearly.
Her magic brewed under the surface, immediately aware, and a wave of anger crested inside her before she could even see him.
“Hey!” His voice had no right to feel this familiar to her.
Gwen had been one of the last to know he’d returned to New York, and no one had told her he was coming back—not even Tris, whom she’d spoken to hours earlier over the phone.
“Wait up!” His steps approached at an accelerating pace. She kept her head up and walked forward as Blair halted to greet him.
“Hey back! I heard you saw my mother,” Blair said, friendly as ever.
“Yeah. She’s scary. Hang on a sec.” He kept running, catching up to her just as she reached the dorms. “Gwen. Long time. You’re looking good.”
“I’m covered in mud.” She rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”
“Would you like the alphabetical list, or in order of priority?”
She wasn’t going to smile. She wasn’t. Not when the very thought of him still made her feel so damn enraged.
Part of her couldn’t explain it. She wasn’t even one to hold a grudge. They were tiring and pointless.
“Come on, Gwen. I want us to be friends again.”
“We’ve never been friends,” she retorted, not slowing down as she made her way to the room where she’d been moved after her shift.
“Friendly, then. Besides, I need you.”
She laughed out loud. Oh, that was going to be rich. “You need me?”
Now, she was smiling from ears to ear.
“Wait, why are we heading toward my place?”
She owed him no answer, so she didn’t attempt to give him one, walking up the stairs of the right wing.
She wasn’t about to complain. There was no more grumpy roommate and no more busy common room in her future. Still, moving her things to this wing had felt like an end. Maybe a beginning too. Certainly a change.
At her doorstep, she asked again. “You can tell me what you want in the next sixty seconds, or I’m going in and locking the door.”
“You’re here?” he asked. “Down the hall from me?”
“I don’t know your room, Hunter.”
“But I know yours.” He said it probingly, almost like a question.
Gwen glared into his annoyingly beautiful light eyes. “Let’s never talk of this again, shall we? That leaves you thirty seconds.”
“I need you to activate a spell.”
She huffed. Seriously?
“Daily,” he added.
“You have to be kidding me.”
He winced. “I get you don’t like me very much at the moment, but I don’t have a choice. I need powerful elemental magic infused into this every day, or I’ll go crazy again.” He was holding a small pendant between his fingers, a delicate amber filled with magic she couldn’t identify at first.
Part of her wanted to escape into her room and shut the door. Another part was intrigued.
“Crazy?”
He nodded. “I told you I don’t remember that night, and that was the truth. Some part of me takes over when I’m in danger. A part I can’t control. This ensures I remains conscious at all times—presumably, even when that…thing surfaces.”
“Shadowthief,” she said.
He frowned.
Rather than admit she’d looked into it after his confession in March, she pretended the term was common knowledge. “An inner self able to surface, entirely independent from your consciousness, is called a shadowthief. When it’s not schizophrenia, that is.”
He leaned against the wall. “Did I ever tell you I liked when you sound like a prim teacher?”
“Did I ever tell you I don’t care what you like?” She unlocked her bedroom, immediately regretting it.
She hadn’t been as tidy as usual that morning. Her bed was unmade, and the clothes on her chair remained unfolded.
Not sharing with Michelle had made her complacent.
“Why not ask just about anyone else?” she asked.
“Because Terra White said I needed a cosmic amount of magic. You’re the most powerful witch I know.”
“Aww. You think flattery will get you somewhere. Cute.”
Jack laughed.
It wasn’t a bad sound at all, all things considered.
“You’ve changed, Gwen. You didn’t used to—“
“Have a spine?” she interrupted derisively. “Sorry to disappoint. I have one now, and zero desire to let you use me.”
She moved to close the door, but he pressed his flat palm against it, holding it open, amusement gone from his eyes. “I have never wanted to use you. Not then, not now.”
“Sure sounds like it.”
“I need a service from you, and I’ll pay whatever you want, no matter the rate you charge.”
Way to make her sound like a prostitute. He must have realized it, because he winced. “For your magic. Clearly.”
“I don’t sell magic.” Or anything else. “Move.”
To her surprise, he stepped back.
She closed the door and flopped her back against it, suddenly exhausted.
“I need you, Gwen.” She could hear him clearly from the other side. “I wouldn’t ask if I had any other alternative.”
That couldn’t be right. There were dozens of better witches than her here. They even had a hellwitch around, for heaven’s sake. And Greer Vespian.
This was another game.
After a long sigh, she unlocked the door, and opened it again.
“All right. Let’s have a look.” She reached out for the pendant, careful not to touch Jack’s shirt underneath.
Immediately, she felt what it needed, and pulsed waves of energy through it until it vibrated contently.
“There.” She stepped back.
“Thank you.” His smile was getting on her nerves. “What do I owe you?”
“Don’t you wish you knew. You promised me whatever I want. I’ll hold you to it.” There was magic to words, especially when spoken to a witch.
This was a game. And she was going to win this time.