So like this he can hear my thoughts?
“Yes. Now answer me.”
Answer me.
Of course. . .
“Of course, what?”
His voice is strained as he leans into me. Slowly consciousness eases out of the sluggish, drunken-feeling state. I return his gaze and glare.
Nice fucking try, devil.
I solidify my mental shields and my thoughts. Containing everything so he can no longer hear. He straightens and neutralizes his expression to closed off but irritated.
“Nice fucking try, what?” We both turn to golden eyes narrowed at Professor Asier before softening at me. “What was being tried?”
I look up to the professor and smirk, but I won’t be saying anything. Cleaver fucking devil. Thinking that I’ll have loose lips because I’m drugged. Simple pain relievers and healing tonics do not feel like this. Even the stronger stuff they use. I know when I’ve been drugged.
“How many times have you gone into your nightmare realm?”
He asks it to me, but I don’t feel like answering it. It’s not his business. It’s not any of their business.
It’s barely been two months at this fucking school and already so much bullshit has happened. This was supposed to be easy. I go to my classes, I graduate, I go home. It was never supposed to be this complicated.
Why the fuck did I not notice that damned vampire in the ally?
I grit my teeth and curl my nails into my palms. “I had asked if you would stay out of my business, Professor. You said yes.” Like a good boy.
When I look up to him his glare is infused with more than just annoyance and anger. There’s a frustration in his eyes that goes beyond irritation. It’s a pointed, fiery rage at me. Borderline hatred.
Well get in line.
“This is my business,” I state. Calm and clear and deadly.
A muscle in his jaw twitches. “And you don’t want to inform yourfatedabout such things?”
I glance at Callahan who’s watching our exchange with inquisitiveness. There’s no negativities or possessiveness coming from him. Which is at odds with how he was before when Professor Asier placed his hand on my shoulder before we begun truth pulling.
“Being fated means nothing until our souls become bound, there’s a claiming mark, and the proper documentation has been filed. The only person who needs to know my business is me. And unless the Mage Board or the Dean of Syngenia Universityexplicitly asks for the inner thoughts of some nineteen-year-old, I don’t need to tell anyone jack shit.”
There’s a sharp tug now, but I ignore it. Callahan doesn’t say anything as he takes the seat to the left of the bed and Professor Asier – who’s on my right side – brings a wall up. A mask slips over his expression until I can’t read anything from his face.
But his body. . . that is thrumming with damnation.
“I see,” he says, cool and neutral. “In that case, I will be seeing you Friday. There will be a written-only test on the first millennium of Syngenia that will be a quarter of your final grade. I will also not be accepting anymore late work for the rest of the semester so you better ace the test or else you’ll be dropped out of Magic History. It will be the same for Intro to Power Compulsion about late work.”
Then he leaves and that bomb hits like I’m sure he intended.
The Mage Board is going to kill me.
Callahan scoots his chair closer to the bed and grabs my hand. “It’ll be fine. We can study tonight and tomorrow after – “
“I have work.”
Or I did. I don’t know what time it is or how long I’ve been out. At least mentally I’m no longer feeling the effects of whatever drug Asier gave me. I’m probably fired.
Callahan’s hand squeezes mine. “You’ll probably say no but. . . could I just pay – “
