Gibbons' screaming grows louder, so I glance at Silas.
"We'll need privacy for what I have in mind."
He nods and pricks his finger to cast a blood magic spell. Runes flare to life in a large circle around us. Although I can still hear the faint echo of holiday music outside the parking lot between the interim headmaster's screams, I'm positive we won't be overheard now.
"Now that we're nice and alone—" I begin.
"Hang on, Oakley. Silas, come here," Everett says, gently pulling me to my feet and trying to pry the shard from my shoulder with his fingertips.
Pain lances out from the injury. I try to brush him off, but he pins me with a glacial glare unlike any expression I've seen on him so far.
My elemental is pissed.
"Hold still. You need to be healed."
"That can wait. Silas needs to conserve his magic for what I have in mind for Gibbons."
Gibbons' delectable screams of pain turn into sobs as Crypt casually tosses one of his eyeballs to the side. Baelfire bares his teeth again.
"I have several things in mind for this kiss-ass for trying to kill you. Why rush?"
"There's the spirit, lizard." Crypt grins in maniacal approval, pressing into the mage's broken arm so Gibbons shouts again. "Let's take it nice and slow so our girl can savor his screams."
Seeing the vengeful, twisted fury on their faces just for me makes my stomach flutter.
Like I said. I'm catching feelings.
"Ready?" Everett checks with Silas, who stands behind me with a necromantic healing spell already prepared. He's removed his winter gloves so his blackened fingertips are visible, which earns a gasp of horror from Gibbons.
"Necromancer!" the old caster croaks, sniveling as he tries again to free himself. "No, no, it can't be! H—how could the brightest student now be one of the damned, soulless?—"
"Shutup," Baelfire snaps.
Everett finally pries the nevermelt from my shoulder while I try not to show pain. The moment it slips free and the blood begins gushing, Silas's spell sinks into my skin. It's the same prickling, unnatural sensation I've experienced countless times at the hands of the necromancers in the Nether, but somehow…more intimate.
Probably because of our bond.
Better?Silas asks in my head, his focus still on the arm he's healing.
I nod.Let's hope you have enough magic left over for what comes next.
Which is what, exactly?
I'm going to corrupt you further. Hope you don't mind.
He smirks and lightly kisses my brow just as he finishes the spell. My arm still aches, and my fingers are ice cold, but the worst of the damage is gone.
I once again crouch beside the interim headmaster. He's a bloody, one-eyed mess who glares like he wants to kill me.
"I have three questions for you."
His lips curl in disgust. "I'm not telling you anything. You are the prophesied doom of the mortal world, the scourge of all mortals! Wretched, nasty little horror?—"
Crypt reaches down and breaks the mage's nose with one twist of his hand. "One more word from you that isn't an answer to my keeper's questions, and you'll be fodder for the wisps."
Gibbons makes a strangled sound, puffing air to try to blow off the blood. “Fine!Fine, I’ll talk. I’ll tell you anything you want if you let me go after!"
My nose wrinkles. Ally or foe, there's nothing worse than a person with no loyalty. "First question. How did you know what I am?"
