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Magical Mistake (Magic And Metaphysics Academy Book 2) Page 3
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"Another one!" he called.
He didn't need to tell me twice. The second and third stinging hexes sailed in his direction one after the other. He moved out of the way of one and then the other with relative ease. Alright, then. I was making this too easy. I had to think of a way to make it tough.
I focused on my magic and sent the next hex flying at him. This time, instead of arriving in one bolt, it splintered into five, spiraling around him.
Francis breathed heavily, but still managed to dodge them.
I scowled and fired off a few rapid-fire hexes. This wasn't about me being angry at him anymore, I simply didn't want to be bested at this game. Or challenge, or whatever it was.
With a determination I hadn't felt in a long time, I fired off another couple of hexes, making these scatter like the one before. He fell for my trap and landed straight in the path of the bolt I'd thrown after the distraction ones. He yelped, but stood straight away, no worse the wear for my assault.
"That was a good one," he complimented.
"Thanks."
"Ready to go again?"
I nodded. "So long as you aren't hurt?" I cursed myself inwardly. Why did I care? He'd hurt me, it stood to reason that me hurting him wasn't going to be a big deal. And yet, that wasn't how it worked inside my head.
"I'm fine. I regenerate quick." He pushed up his sleeve so I could see the lack of injury to his arm.
"Alright." I rolled up my sleeves, indicating I was ready to get down to business. If he wanted a concentrated attack, he was going to get one.
The next couple of rounds went along the same lines. I fired all the magic I could at him, he dodged, and even if he didn't, there was nothing more than a minor scratch on him. I should've been satisfied that I wasn't hurting him, but instead, it was fueling my anger.
He'd kissed Kristi. Even though he'd told Brooks he liked me. Even though he'd acted as if he liked me.
Anger bubbled away in my gut, burning and churning and being generally unpleasant. I didn't want to be this person. More of my anger should be directed at Kristi. Deep down, I knew she was responsible for what had happened, even if she'd denied it over the phone.
Yet here I was, getting angrier at Francis instead.
My next hex was stronger than the other ones had been. I didn't intend for it to be, and I wanted to take it back as soon as it left my hand.
Francis dodged it with ease, proving my concern to be nothing more than superficial. He didn't need my help saving himself from my anger. That only made it worse.
My next bolt was even stronger. And the one after that. And the next one.
"Argh!" Francis screamed, clutching at his forearm.
I dropped my hands from their attack position even as the blood rushed from my face. What had I done? In that moment, I knew it was something horrible.
He lifted his hand, and a huge red gash greeted me. I licked my lips, the red liquid calling my name, desperate for me to press my mouth against it, taste the metallic tang of his blood against my tongue. My vampire side had never been this hungry before, and I wasn't sure what was causing it.
I stalked over to him. "Let me fix it," I whispered.
He smiled at me, clearly unaware that it was my anger that had caused the injury in the first place. I tried not to let the guilt well up.
Kneeling beside him, I took his arm in my hands to examine the wound. The blood glittered in the light of the gym and I licked my lips again. I should use magic to heal the wound I'd caused, but at that moment, I was far more interested in something else. I hadn't even realized it was possible to hunger for another vampire's blood. I'd never felt like this before, and I'd been around several vampires with injuries, including Dad.
"Lou?" he asked weakly.
I didn't answer. I continued to stare at his blood.
"Lou?" he repeated, stronger this time. "I need you to do your thing."
"Sorry," I mumbled, snapping out of the blood induced trance. I smoothed a finger over the wound as I sent my magic into it. I wasn't the best person to be doing this as healing wasn't my strong suit, but I was certainly better than nothing. I'd was able to do a decent job of patching him up.
"Thank you." His eyes didn't leave me. They burned into my skin as if he was touching me with a thousand red hot pokers. It was like he knew something that I wasn't ready for him to.
"I should go." I rose to my feet, then caught sight of blood smeared finger. Without thinking about it, I raised it to my mouth and sucked off the blood. It was all I could do not to moan at the taste.
"Lou..."
My eyes widened at Francis' voice, but I was saved from answering by the sound of the bell. I needed to get changed and ready for my next lesson. And get away from Francis.
The people around us rushed to the changing rooms, and I followed, almost running out the doorway and into the corridor, anxious to escape Francis and the accusations he'd no doubt have. I wasn't open about what I was, and it was for a good reason. If people knew...
A hand on my arm interrupted my thoughts and pulled me into a smaller, unused corridor. Well, I didn't know it was unused, but it certainly didn't have any people in it at the moment, and that was good enough for me.
"What happened in there?" Francis demanded, but there was an unidentifiable softness to his voice.
"I fired my magic too hard, I'm sorry." Looking at the lockers lining the wall, I didn't meet his eyes. I couldn't. He'd see the truth of me far too easily.
"You drank my blood."
I shook my head. Technically, I hadn't. I'd only sucked his blood from my finger, I hadn't drunk it.
"I saw you."
"I don't know what you're talking about." I looked up and regretted it the instant I saw the hurt in his eyes. He knew I was lying to him.
"You're a hybrid, aren't you?"
I considered all the ways I could answer his question before dismissing them. Yes, would admit what I was. No, would reveal it anyway. To not answer was basically an admission.
I had no way out. None at all.
"Yes," I whispered, the word barely audible.
It didn't matter, he heard. Understanding dawned on his face. "Why didn't you tell me?" Hurt seeped through every word.
"The same reason I don't tell anyone," I responded. "It's dangerous."
He pursed his lips before replying. "I'm not just anyone."
"You're not?" I hardened my eyes and my tone.
Francis caged me against the wall, and it was all I could do not to lose myself in the sound of his beating heart. "Why would you think that?"
"Because you kissed Kristi at the party. I saw you," I hissed.
"What?" Genuine confusion crossed his face. "I haven't kissed Kristi in months."
"Please don't lie." It came out as almost a whine, and I hated myself for it. Why should I let him know how jealous I was about it all? Especially when I'd already accidentally revealed one secret to him.
"I'm not lying," he said earnestly. "I promise, I didn't kiss Kristi at the party. I wasn't even at the party. I was called home for some business."
I cocked my head to the side, trying to work out if he was telling the truth or not. Part of me wanted to believe him, especially since Jayse has vouched for him. The rest wasn't so sure. I pushed the latter one away. That was the hurt girl who'd seen a guy she liked with a girl she didn't.
"You didn't kiss her?" I repeated, hopeful.
"I didn't."
"I'm sorry." I glanced down, unable to maintain eye contact with him when I'd acted so badly.
He leaned in and placed a finger under my chin, lifting it. I became very aware of how close our bodies were, and how much the wall pushed me up against him. There was no escape, though at that moment, I wasn't convinced I wanted one.
"You saw me kissing Kristi?"
I nodded.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what she's up to."
I barked a laugh. "Something bad, no doubt." I remembered how she'd gloated about it a
nd some of the pieces fell into place. She might not have been kissing Francis at all, and even if she had, it wasn't something he'd have chosen. She was purposefully doing it to get at me.
I had a few choice words for the girl. But I kept them to myself. For now.
"Do you want to show me how you think she kissed me?" Francis whispered, his breath fanning against my lips.
I shook my head. "I want to show you how I'd have kissed you," I responded, a sudden boldness overtaking me. Maybe it came from having had his blood on my tongue so recently. Deep inside me, there was an urge to taste it again. Somewhere, the dim recollection that sharing blood with another vampire meant something stirred within me, but I pushed it aside. Nothing was more important than feeling Francis' lips against mine.
As if he could read my thoughts, he closed the distance between us, pushing me up harder against the wall. His lips touched mine, and I lost it, pressing myself into him and losing all sense of anything other than his lips and mine.
He was everything.
I rubbed myself against him, wanting more. No, not wanting, needing. It no longer mattered that we both had class to get to, or that he'd uncovered my greatest secret. He could have it so long as he kept giving me kisses like this.
The dim awareness of my teeth lengthening within my mouth came over me, but I pushed past it, more interested in sensations than something as normal as teeth.
I nipped at his bottom lip, the sharp edge of my tooth slicing through the soft skin and causing blood to well up. I ran my tongue over it.
Instead of pushing me away, Francis groaned and pressed against me more. His fangs grazed my lip and a sharp sting told me he'd done the same as I had. I let him draw my blood. I wanted him to have it. He deserved it. He'd cherish it.
It didn't even matter that exchanging blood with one another meant something. At that moment, we were nothing more than pure instinct, our bodies touching at every possible point, our blood mingling in our mouths.
I broke the kiss and leaned my head back, a loud moan sounding from somewhere deep within when his teeth grazed against my neck.
My eyes snapped open and I pushed him away. As much as I'd been enjoying what we were doing, realization hit me like a slap in the face.
"Did we just..." I couldn't get the words out past the lump in my throat.
Francis panted in front of me, his mouth reddened with blood, his fangs poking out over his lip and a dazed look in his eyes that I was certain I shared.
He touched his lips. "I think we did."
"You know what this means?" I demanded.
He simply nodded. "It felt right," he reasoned with a shrug.
I didn't say anything. I couldn't. Because as much as I wanted to dispute what he'd said, I couldn't. He was right. What had happened between us was natural. And not in the way that vampires craved blood. This was natural in a way that only meant one thing.
And I couldn't think about that. I was only nineteen, I didn't want to face that I'd found...
No, I wouldn't think the word, it'd only make it true.
"I have to go," I mumbled.
This time, he let me go. Thoughts assailed me as I charged back into the locker room to get into my clothes. I was late for my next lesson, but that hardly mattered.
I'd kissed Francis. I'd kissed Brooks. How was this possible? I'd gone from the girl who was hardly interested in the opposite sex, to one who went around kissing two guys in the span of...well, a day. Who was I? And what had changed?
The meaning of two vampires sharing blood flitted through my mind.
One word.
It couldn't be true.
And yet, it was.
Mates.
Chapter Four
When my laces couldn't be tied any tighter, and my clothes couldn't be any neater, I had to face leaving the locker room. Walking through the door meant seeing people, and I felt like I had a big set of lips painted on my forehead. Like everyone would know how close I came to having sex with Brooks, then kissed Francis and exchanged blood with him. A sense of him, very faint, rested comfortably in the back of my mind.
Would we be mated forever? What if we weren't compatible? It happened so often that teenagers fell in love and got married only to get divorced in a few short years. What did mates do when it didn't work out? Stay mated anyway?
Slinging my backpack over my shoulders, then taking all the time I could to adjust the straps and straighten it, I finally had to walk out the door.
After a deep breath, I straightened my spine and held my head high and strode purposefully through the door, as if everything in my world was just fine.
And ran smack into Jayse. He wrapped his arms around me and kept me from flailing backwards into the locker room. "Hey, slow down." His voice washed over me. "Are you okay?" The concern he showed me was more than I could take at that moment, and I burst into tears.
Jayse took my hand and pulled me through a door and into the athletic closet. It smelled like gym socks and rubber balls, but I didn't notice, because as soon as the door closed behind us, he sat on a bench and pulled me into his lap.
Next to Jayse, I felt tiny and dainty. Sitting in his lap, suddenly I'd never been more protected. Crying harder, I buried my face in his chest and curled my legs up. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight, rocking while I tried to calm myself down.
"I'm s-sorry," I said with a hiccup.
"Shh." He tried to soothe me, but his kindness only made me cry harder. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and show him how much I appreciated the way he'd treated me from day one. The gentle giant, the protector. The way I wanted to show him my appreciation made me feel like a total slut.
Stop it. You're always talking about standing against slut-shaming. That includes yourself! I tried to chide myself into calming down, but it wasn't easy. Even without feeling like a slut, I still had conflicting and strong emotions for three different men. It wasn't an easy situation.
Eventually, my tears waned and I pulled it together. Mopping my face on the end of my shirt, I scrunched it up to hide the tear stains. And probably snot stains. Ew. I hope he didn't see that part.
Cracking my swollen eyelids, I saw his soaked shirt first. "Oh, my gosh, I'm so sorry. I got your shirt all wet."
Tears welled and threatened to fall again. "It's okay," he said hurriedly as he saw my eyes fill. "Truly, honestly, really!"
His responses were so vehement I had to giggle.
"I love wet shirts. They're my favorite. They make whole contests about them."
My giggle turned into a short at his ridiculous antics to cheer me up. "Thanks, Jayse," I said softly, guilt still riding me.
"Hey." He ran his fingers lightly along my jaw. "What's going on?"
"It's complicated."
I watched him close the distance between his lips and mine, and as much as I felt like an ass for leading on all three of them, my body lit up at the thought of a kiss from Jayse. His lips met mine, and I reacted strongly. Not quite as out of control as with Francis, but there was no way I would be able to stop myself.
Jayse tasted me, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth. The pain from Francis' bite lingered, making me gasp. Jayse broke the kiss. "Did I bite your lip?"
Chuckling, I rubbed it with the back of my hand. "No, no, and that's why I'm crying." I climbed out of his lap, which wasn't as easy as I would've thought. He was just so damn big. I couldn't help but wonder if that meant everywhere.
Blushing, I began to pace. "Jayse, I don't know how to say this."
He furrowed his brow and reached out. I stopped in place when he caught my hand. "Whatever's bothering you, spit it out. I'm not going to judge you."
"I nearly had sex with Brooks, then I bit Francis and he bit me. I think we might be bonded now, because how else would I know he's in a classroom right above us this very second?" My voice cracked, going so high-pitched in my panic that I couldn't continue.
"Well, you sure spit it out." A huge grin spread
across his face. "Come here."
This time, he tugged gently, and I sat beside him. Being on his lap would've been too much.
"First of all, don't feel guilty. We've already talked about you. You know that in this world, polyamorous relationships aren't unheard of."
"They're pretty foreign to me," I admitted. I wasn't against them, especially considering how I felt about each of the guys. But still, it felt like I should be trying to achieve monogamy. Maybe all the time I spent with my parents in the wild made me think all relationships should be like theirs. Why should I stick to one certain model of how one should look?
"I hope you'll warm up to the idea," Jayse said. "When we realized we all had feelings for you, we sat down and had a serious discussion."
"So, did you guys sit down one day and make a pact about if you ever met a girl you all wanted to date?" I asked jokingly.
Jayse's face blanked. "Well, yeah. Don't all best friends do that?"
Laughing, I shook my head. "No, I don't think they do. Although, I can't say I've ever had a best friend."
"Good, then I can be your first." He stood and pulled me up. "They say the best relationships build from friendship, right?"
He was right. That was the saying. "So we're friends?"
I looked up at him and marveled once again and how enormous he was. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"How tall are you?"
"Six eight," he said.
"Wow."
He ducked his head and looked embarrassed.
"No, I mean, I like it," I said. It was my turn to feel bad for saying the wrong thing. "I like how tall you are. And big."
Jayse arched an eyebrow at me. "Thank you?"
I bent over with my face in my hands, embarrassed. "I get nervous and so tongue-tied around you guys sometimes," I said. "It's silly."
"It is. No reason to be anything around us, except yourself." He pulled me closer. "Can I kiss you again?"
I nodded, this time without the guilt. If they were okay with it, damn it, I would be too.
He bent into me, but the height difference made it pretty uncomfortable. I pulled away and looked around. Hopping up on the bench put me slightly taller than Jayse, which worked perfectly. I wrapped my arms around his neck and lowered my mouth to his, smiling along the way.