I seized the spell in both hands, wrestling it away from me, much the same way I’d defeated Wanda’s snake spell when we’d dueled. That scared me more. Manifesting living animals out of nothing was abnormal magic and something I’d never encountered. This, though, was familiar ground. A witch wanted me dead. What else was new?

  The spell crackled into the visible spectrum, a sickly green-yellow light that thrashed in my hands like an eel, still trying to sink its teeth into me. Vivian continued to funnel power into her construct, her face a rictus of frustration when she couldn’t make the spell do her bidding. She actually blanched when she spied it, colorful and writhing in my outstretched hands. I pushed the barest hint of it back at her, and her chair cracked beneath her. She let out a cry and tumbled to the stones, landing hard on her ass.

  For one frenzied moment, I was tempted to hurl the evil eye back at her, harder than she flung it at me, driving her back up against the stone. It would be fast. Too fast for the young witch to block. I knew, without a doubt, that I was stronger than she was. I was stronger even before being blooded by that foul leech, Janeth. Though Vivian and I were likely the same age (or perhaps she was a little younger, though definitely older than Astrid) the disparity was laughable. She was a petulant little girl, only powerful because she believed she ought to be. It was a false strength built on arrogance and entitlement that overshadowed any witch I’d ever met, save maybe Celestine. But Vivian had a little talent, and she’d used spite to fuel it. Without her confidence, she was no stronger than any other witch in the room.

  But I was strong. It wasn’t arrogance. I’d had any sense of worth stripped from me growing up in a coven where I was unloved and unwanted. I’d carved a life from nothing. I’d done it without help. Spell, I’d done it while under attack from witches with more talent than Vivian Grimsbane. She might have been better than her classmates, but she wasn’t better than me.

  Letting the hex loose would feel good. At that moment, she was the avatar for every witch in my life who’d ever been cruel to me. She’d tried to hurt, perhaps even kill me, because I’d embarrassed her in front of her friends. A little taste of her own medicine might do her some good.

  Raw, naked fear spasmed across her face before she could stop it. Tally was right. She was terrified. Of me. Maverick Depraysie, scourge of children. What the spell was I doing?

  I pushed the violent urge from my thoughts. It wasn’t mine. Not really. Wanda warned me it could happen, especially while under stress. She’d almost killed Hellcat when she’d had an attack of madness. I had killed three vampires when I’d been consumed by this dark power and that meant I needed to keep it in check. Truly, I didn’t want the headmistress’ daughter dead, no matter how irritating she might be.

  I clenched my fists around the hex, twisting it in two, letting the remnants fall to the stone floor where they sparked and then died to nothing, leaving scorch marks on the pale stone. A hush had fallen over the room, and when I lifted my gaze, I found every set of eyes fixed on my face. Their expressions ranged from fear to awe. Every witch was on the edge of her seat, ready to sprint for the door if I conjured up a hex of my own. Vivian’s spell had been meant to knock me down a peg and accomplished the opposite. Now they knew. I was a true warlock, not a mundane coasting on meager powers and the Velardi name.

  I swept my gaze around the room once, meeting each pair of eyes in turn. Most of them averted their gaze immediately. Even Eira seemed spooked by my demonstration and only lingered a moment longer than the rest. Vivian’s eyes locked with mine when I finally reached her. She couldn’t seem to tear them away as if I’d strike when she blinked.

  “I’m not your black arts teacher,” I said, surprised when my voice came out level. “But if any one of you have a problem with the way I conduct my class and want to take it up with me personally, you’re welcome to do so now. Anything to get the tedious interruptions out of the way.”

  Silence. No one moved. They barely even breathed.

  “No takers? That’s disappointing.”

  I turned to face Vivian with a ghost of a smile. She inched backward as if she could press her way through the stone and materialize in the corridor beyond. She flinched when I spoke.

  “That’s a demerit for you, Ms. Grimsbane. If you’re going to hex someone, I suggest being more subtle about it. And also to pick on someone your own size. You’ll be staying after class. We need to have a talk.”

  Her swallow was audible, even over the smattering of mutters that broke out after I addressed her. When she answered, her voice was small, and less sure than I’d ever heard it.

  “Yes, Professor Velardi.”

  “And Ms. Grimsbane?”

  She hesitated. “Yes, sir?”

  “Stir your potion. It’s beginning to smoke.”

  Chapter Five

  Maverick

  Vivian recovered some of her earlier confidence by the end of the class.

  She’d begun speaking not long after the door clicked shut, leaving us in the cavernous potions classroom. Everything here seemed oversized, a monument to the Grimsbanes’ overindulgence. It felt even larger with only two of us present.

  “You had no right to talk to me like that in class,” she said hotly, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Like most witches, she was well-endowed and was purposely emphasizing that fact. If she couldn’t make me cooperate with force, she’d try to seduce her way into my good graces. It didn’t matter that I was married. She’d try anyway. It was another tried and true witch tactic. If Wanda had come at me with it a year ago, I would have been tempted. Now I had Tally and... whatever we happened to be. It was insulting that Vivian thought she could even measure up.

  “I had every right,” I said coolly. “I’m your professor, not your babysitter. If you’re not prepared, I will make that fact known. I’d have corrected Eira if she’d given a woefully underwhelming answer. Don’t mistake instruction for an insult, Ms. Grimsbane, or you’ll be offended in every class.”

  “I don’t appreciate,” she started, but I immediately interrupted.

  “Try something like that in my classroom again and I will give you more than a demerit. Don’t pick fights you can’t win.”

  She looked like she’d swallowed a lemon. She jerked her chin up defiantly but didn’t quite meet my eyes. Instead, she stared off to one side of my face as if I wasn’t even worthy of that consideration.

  “You’re like every other male,” she said. “You have way too high an opinion of yourself. You’re not as powerful as you think you are.”

  “Fine. Take your best shot, Vivian,” I answered with a smile as I held my arms wide as if giving her the target of my chest. “We’re alone here. No one will see you do it. Hell, if you can get in a good hex, I won’t even give you an extra demerit because you’d have actually earned a little of my respect. But more than likely, you’ll have your ass handed to you yet again, and you’ll whine all the way to your mother’s office.”

  Vivian’s jaw clenched tight. Her glare was nothing short of murderous, but she didn’t reply. I leaned against my desk, crossing my arms over my chest, mirroring her posture.

  “Now, I’m willing to remove the demerit... if you do me a favor.”

  Vivian’s lip curled. “Of course. I just have to do you a favor. Men. Always driven by their libidos.”

  I laughed. “Not that sort of favor. I have a wife.”

  “A plain, fae woman,” she answered, making the word ‘fae’ sound like a put-down. “I bet you’ve never laid a finger on a witch.”

  “And you’d lose that bet. I’ve been with three. And Tammy is anything but plain.”

  Technically the few witches I’d been with had been half-breeds mixed with some other species, often shifters. It meant they, like me, were pushed out of regular witch spaces. I was still in contact with Natasha. Scapegrace coven had been weighing the possibility of contacting Natasha in case I needed to produce the supposed mother of my child, Sybil. It would certainly help explain Sybil’s shapeshifting abilities—well, if Natasha was amenable to lying on my behalf, which I doubted she would be. I hadn’t exactly left a lot of happy ex-lovers. Usually they wanted more and I bolted.

  “And you’re monogamous with her, I suppose.”

  “I am.”

  “Truly disgraceful.”

  “My love life is none of your business, Ms. Grimsbane. Now, do you want the demerit removed or not?”

  “What’s the favor?” she asked.

  “I’m worried about one of your fellow students.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Which fellow student?”

  “Astrid Depraysie. According to Professor Madden’s notes, Astrid has missed a week of school.”

  “And... I already told you... she’s taken up with the remedial portion of our school.”

  “Then would you please get her and bring her back here? I’d like to discuss why she’s in remedial school when from the grades in Madden’s book, it appears she was acing this course.”

  “I... I can’t bring her back here,” Vivian said and there was an expression of panic in her eyes.

  “Oh? And why is that?”

  “Why do you care?” she answered, clearly wanting to avoid the subject with everything she had.

  “I care about my students and I want each and every one of you to succeed,” I lied. “What’s more—I don’t like the fact that an apparent A-student is in remedial school when for all intents and purposes, it appears she doesn’t belong there. I want you to either bring her here or take me to her so I’m able to get her caught up on the lessons she’s missed.”

  “I guess I’m keeping the demerit, then,” Vivian said, bending to retrieve her bag. “And it’s my first, so it’s not like it will sully my record, will it? I’ll have it expunged within the month for good behavior.”

  Good behavior. As if she’d be capable of such a thing. The blemish would be whited out with a nice dose of nepotism. She’d also graduate at the top of her class, whether she earned the honor or not.

  “You know where she is,” I insisted, thinking of how Tally had told me to force my hand with Vivian. “Take me to her. Now.”

  Vivian turned on her heel but cast me a withering glance over her shoulder as she strode for the door. “I don’t know anything about Astrid’s whereabouts—I was told she was in remedial school and that was it.”

  Vivian was inches from the classroom door when it snapped shut, the sound echoing ominously in the empty classroom. I had a hand out, hands clenched into half fists, the way I ordinarily called magic. Astrid sometimes teased that I should have been born to use my middle finger to cast, flipping the entire world the bird. Except... I hadn’t meant to slam the door just shy of her nose. Power had lashed out of me without my conscious permission.

  Fuck. I had to keep a handle on my power before something especially dark slipped out. The Grimsbanes would absolutely burn me alive for being a Blood Warlock. If they found out, that is. And they couldn’t find out.

  Vivian’s back was stiff with stress. She fisted her hands into the pleated green pinafore that made up her school uniform. It didn’t disguise the fact that she was shaking. She wasn’t rounding on me, because she didn’t want me to see the expression she wore.

  “Let me out of this classroom.”

  “At least tell me where Astrid is.”

  “I don’t know,” she answered, voice shaking.

  “Where is remedial school?”

  “There...”

  “Is no remedial school, is there?” I demanded.

  Vivian wouldn’t look at me but shook her head.

  “Then why—” I started.

  She looked up at me then. “Because we don’t know where she is and until we do, we didn’t want to get everyone worried so we said she’s in remedial school. We’re currently... trying to solve her disappearance.” Then Vivian turned in a whirl of checkered skirts, grinding the heel of her dress shoes into the ground as though she wished it were my head.

  “And, I’ll have you know that my mother will have your head if you mention a word of this to anyone!” she hissed.

  “And why is that?” I demanded.

  “Because we are trying to keep it under wraps until we know what’s going on,” she practically yelled at me. “There’s no reason to upset all the faculty and students until we know for sure what we’re dealing with. And if you have a problem with that, professor, see Mother in her office, but go prepared for a fight. She’ll throw you back to wherever you came from, broken mirror or no.”

  Vivian yanked the door open, finally breaking through my spell in her desperation and slammed it behind her. The sound echoed in the stillness, leaving me alone with my frustration and a mounting sense of fear.

  Vivian knew more than she was letting on. If she didn’t know where Astrid was, she knew what had happened to her. I was sure of it. I just had to figure out how to make her confess.

  ***

  Classes broke for an hour and a half, and I had to wade through a wave of day class students to make it to the courtyard. I resisted the urge to curse the witches who purposefully knocked into me in a vain attempt to smear potions or aim curses in my direction. Almost none of them had the power to make any lasting impression. I, on the other hand, did. But I, of course, stopped myself. That didn’t mean the urge wasn’t there. It a was knee-jerk reaction after so many years of rubbing elbows with witches. They could be vicious. It was always wise to get in the first shot.

  Absent of students, the courtyard was actually pretty. The pristine walkways were flanked by shaped topiaries, native plant life, and flowering trees. At this time of year, they were bare, their leaves forming curling, red-gold hillocks beneath their trunks. I’d catch small dew fairies flitting here and there, gone before I could really lock eyes on them, off to cause mischief some place else.

  Even though it was February in Haven Hollow, the seasons and months didn’t follow a linear plan here. From what I understood, the seasons came and went whenever they saw fit and now it was Autumn. Samhain was around the corner and students were already making plans for the celebration. The witches would be out en masse soon to raid the orchard outside the castle’s walls, gathering their offerings to the Autumn Fae. Costumes were underway for the masquerade and the bonfire after. If Astrid were here, she’d be thrilled. Samhain was her favorite holiday.

  My mind flashed back to the last Samhain we’d spent together. I’d played a dirty trick on her then, using her naivety to swap bodies with Wanda. Astrid had hated me for it. Well, Wanda had too. Was that the last Hallow’s Eve I’d spent with my little sister?

  Taliyah sat in the middle of the Autumn splendor, lounging on a bench beneath an oak. She didn’t look touched by it in the least. I guessed my winter queen wouldn’t be partial to autumn the way I was. Isis perched on her shoulder, and Tally had taken to stroking her feathers, eyes distant as she mulled over some secret thought. She had a book open in her lap, the cover that would allow people to pass her by, ignoring the eye she kept on them over the pages.

  I paused to watch her. I didn’t have moments like this often. Taliyah was sharp, observant, and almost always on the move. There was rarely a quiet moment to observe my new wife at rest. Her posture was more relaxed than I’d ever seen it. She’d adjusted to the strangeness of the Hollow with grudging grace, shouldering the weight of extra responsibility with stoicism. I admired her for that. I wouldn’t have fared half as well in her place.

  She was a rock in a storm. And she was mine. My friend. My wife. Perhaps more, if she wanted that. The urge to kiss her was strong, but I shoved it down. It wasn’t fair. We were here to work, not work out our budding feelings.

  Tally startled a little when I sank onto the bench beside her. I smirked at her.

  “Boo.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “You aren’t funny.”

  “Then why are you trying not to smile?”

  She schooled her expression, wiping the ghostly possibility of a grin off her face. I was sad to see it go. Her smiles were earned, and I always felt a fierce thrill of triumph when I managed to draw one out of her.

  I’d purposely left a gap between our thighs, giving her the space she deserved. My heart beat a little faster when she scooted closer so we were pressed close together, Isis’ downy body the only thing that kept us from being face to face. I made a soft sound, and Isis fluttered down to land on my lap.

  “Did you learn anything by walking around and watching the students?”

  She nodded. “A lot actually.”

  “Such as?”

  She flipped her book closed and frowned. “Astrid was right. There’s definitely something going on here. Did you notice any odd behavior from your faerie students in class today?”

  I tried to think back, cursing myself when I drew a blank. I’d been too focused on the witches, constantly plucking off mediocre curses and putting pressure on one in particular to really notice too many of the fae students. Eira had been surrounded by a group of faeries, but I’d assumed that, like the witches, she preferred to be surrounded by her own kind.

  “Not particularly. Why?”

  “All the faeries I’ve seen have been moving in packs of three or more.”

  “And that’s odd?”

  “For spring and summer? No. They’re sociable and they like being around each other. It’s unusual for autumn and winter, though. They’re more independent, especially the winter faeries. We don’t get along with each other at the best of times.” Taliyah caught me staring and a light flush colored her cheeks. “I’ve been talking to a few winter faeries I’ve come across. Cardinal was right. I don’t know much about my people. And I can only gather so much from Bea. She’s spring, which means she’s practically my opposite. She won’t know the ins and outs of the Winter Court so I figured it was time I learned.”