No place is perfect,his mind insisted.
But somehow, the rattling and hissing of whatever monster those were seemed to echo around them, and Dan was no longer convinced that Crenshaw was as perfect as he’d been led to think.
As they entered the castle again, Dan had one last fleeting fear:Is that where they send those of us who fail? Are we fed to the snake like that man was?
16Maggie
Maggie had a moment of panic when she woke in an unfamiliar bed. She was naked and aching in places that hadn’t been made use of in far too long. The man next to her had the sort of tattoos that looked like they belonged on a grizzled soldier—or had been done in prison. Something about that niggled her brain.
“How old are you?” she asked as the rest of her orgasm-soaked brain started to function.
Sondre deflected. “Older than I look. Witches live a very long time.”
“Not an answer.” Maggie propped herself up on one arm, looking down at the man beside her. He didn’t look a day over thirty, and she’d had an “Am I a cougar now?” moment earlier. Surely not, though. He was the headmaster for the college, so he was what?
She guessed, “Forty? Forty-five?”
“Ninety-six.” He caught her hand as he answered, as if she’d bolt.
If not for her uncanny ability to tell lies from truths, she’d laugh. As it was, her mouth gaped open as she stared at him. He had the sort of gym body that rarely existed much over forty, and certainly didn’t exist in men over ninety.
“You’re old enough to be my grandfather.” She stared at him. “You don’t look—or move—like an old man.”
“Witches live for alongtime, Maggie.” Sondre stared at her, clearly bracing for her panic. “You will look younger over time as your body heals the ravages of age. You’ll feel younger, too. It takes a moment to adjust.”
Maggie felt her stomach twist as she tried to make sense of the idea that she could live that long and not visibly age. Would her son inherit her magic? Or would he grow old and die before her?
“So the people I’ll meet who look older are the non-magical relatives?” She had glimpsed a few people in Crenshaw, but no one looked anywhere near ninety. “Wait! Are any of the people here ones whose magic awakened when they were already old?”
“Sometimes. They un-age the first few years before beginning to re-age. Unsettling to see if you ask me.” Sondre stood, rising out of the bed in a way that said he was stripper-agile. A random thought slid into her mind that since he was this fit and this lithe, maybe she could convince him to give her a show. Thinking about that felt better than thinking about the reality of her life as a witch.
“How do you feel about stripteases, man-witch?” She watched him pace to a window like he could hear or see something out there she couldn’t.
He glanced back at her with an appraising grin. “I look forward to that if you’re willing. We don’t have that sort of bar here. Aside from one brothel, there are no half-naked women on display. A shame, really.”
A chime echoed in the room, the sound bouncing around as if it were a physical thing seeking a person. Seeking Sondre.
In no more than a blink, Sondre was re-dressed—including his robe. Knowing what was hidden under it, she somehow found the shapeless fabric sexy. He might not be much for conversation, but Sondre was fit and had stamina.
But somehow old. Let’s not forget that part!
He stepped out of the room, pulling the door shut. For a moment, Maggie considered getting dressed, but he was already back, frowning.
“The last student has apparently arrived,” Sondre announced, staring down at her with an unreadable expression.
“I thought you had to go fetch them or whatever?”
“Typically.” Sondre bent and slid his hands under her. “But this will save me time I can better use here.”
He lifted her halfway off the mattress as his mouth covered hers in a kiss that was more possessive than he had any right to be, but Maggie’s traitorous body had no objections. A great kiss was high on the list of reasons she’d missed dating. The others were what followed great kisses. The sheer truth was that orgasms were even better than meds at keeping her anxiety at bay, and he delivered enough joy that she felt blissful.
When Sondre released her from his kiss, she flopped back onto the mattress and shushed her mind.
Fine. Not captor. Not old. Acquaintances with benefits?
“I want more of you,” he said.
Maggie was too much of an adult to play coy. “Same. If you keep delivering that many orgasms, I’m in.”
