Page 20 of Magdalene Nox

Magdalene set her jaw. It was time to get this show on the road. She had heard enough, after all.

“Well, this is cozy, Doctor Fenway. I can see why the school is millions in debt and dead last in all the state and regional classifications. With its faculty gossiping and imbibing second rate alcohol at…”

She paused dramatically and raised her hand to look at her watch, the Vacheron making its satisfyingly expensive sound, and for once she didn’t mind the half-a-million dollars weighing down her wrist. “Ah, 10:30 AM. Isn’t drinking on school grounds against the school charter,my dears?” She practically spat the last words, mocking the cutesy term-of-endearment Fenway had used just minutes ago.

Yes, let them all know that she’d witnessed every word.Let them understand that she had heard Fenway malign her. Let them realize she had been right there when they talked about her.

When she was absolutely certain all eyes were focused on her, Magdalene took several more steps into the Mess Hall, each sounding like a gunshot. Something round, corpulent, and orange rose from the windowsill and after almost brushing against her—which took all her considerable willpower to not recoil from—disappeared from her sight.

Of course, these incompetent people had allowed critters to live at the school, in the Mess Hall of all places. The sheer number of health department regulations broken by the presence of the pest...

Still, she smiled to herself. She could see by the looks on these people’s faces that, given the chance, most of them would have followed the creature.

Magdalene pursed her lips and indulged in her emotions, rage and anger and disgust—from thirty years and those set alight today, by the memories, by the carelessness and cruelty of these people—as they raised their dragons’ heads and breathed fire.

Magdalene slowly perused the pale, astonished faces of those around her, then lowered her voice just enough to have their full attention. She knew she probably did not need to. They were hanging on her every word as it was, but they had played with fire, and they should have known better.

“My name is Magdalene Nox. I am the new Headmistress of Three Dragons. And you are all fired.”

7

OF RUINOUS CHAOS & THINGS HOPED FOR

Well, now Sam certainly knew her name. Magdalene could feel those burning eyes on her, the rage, anger, and after a brief glance, she noted what seemed to be a touch of resentment in them? Which only spurred her own fury in return. Not that she needed to reach very deeply for it. Everything that had happened since she’d set foot on this godforsaken island again had only increased her banking rage.

The gossip, the unqualified comments, the sheer gall to sit there and look righteous, and now this… Resentment, at what? At her not sharing her name? At daring to seek pleasure? Magdalene tossed her hair back and could see Sam’s nostrils flare and those long, slim fingers she had admired and daydreamed about curl into fists.

Oh, she remembered those fingers. Magdalene felt a flush rise above her tight collar and decided to attribute it to her still burning-hot anger. The alternative—that it was lust—being unthinkable and in this very moment, embarrassing. Because she’d kept begging for them–and she’d never begged anyone in her life.

She also remembered having been so foolish as to confess to things she had no business confessing, sharing sentiments like, “How can I still be hungry for you when you’ve sated me so many times?” and reaching out for more, for those hands, for that mouth.

Those words, the ones she so wished to take back, echoed in her mind now as their eyes met across the expanse of the Mess Hall, Sam’s full of challenge and her own very much able to withstand it, despite her treacherous heart skipping a beat. Was Sam daring her to say she knew her? That they had an insurmountable conflict of interest? Magdalene raised an eyebrow more in surprise than anything else.

And then suddenly, Sam did falter. Slowly, the gray gaze lowered, then turned away with a sort of embarrassment Magdalene couldn’t place immediately. Yet as she stood there, being watched and now known to everyone, it occurred to Magdalene that the reason Sam might be confused was because of that vaunted Nox poker face. Did she believe Magdalene hadn’t recognized her?

The blush, now vibrant on those sharp cheekbones, told its own story, and all Magdalene had to do was listen. The woman was hurt. Hurt by Magdalene not acknowledging her, perhaps thinking she didn’t remember her?

Damn.

She was here to do a job. Thirty years she had worked towards this very moment, and this was the absolute last complication Magdalene wanted or needed. A headache had started brewing at her temples, but she’d be damned if she’d raise her hands to try to alleviate it.

She bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to focus, to center herself, but the taste of copper only brought her back to the tiny hotel room in Manhattan where she’d bitten and sucked and, after having been thoroughly debauched herself, had Sam at her mercy. And Magdalene had been very merciful. Except, now—same as then—the look of vulnerability on those sharp features and in those ashen eyes unraveled her.

A splitting heart on top of a splitting headache? Nox, stop being a cliche!

Sheshouldjust pretend that she didn’t recognize her. Because the job was the only thing that was important. Nothing else mattered. And Sam held some cards in this game of theirs. Magdalene took a few seconds to consider the hand they’d both been dealt, and even with her temples pulsing, she discarded most of the issues.

All she needed was plausible deniability. She had that in spades, pun intended. Bases covered, Magdalene sucked on her teeth and narrowed her eyes.

She really should ignore that hurt expression, that tender, bruised look.She really should…Against every single fiber of her being, against the thirty years of longing, planning to stand exactly where she stood now, Magdalene’s fingers twitched at her side.

All she suddenly wished for was to tuck that stray, blonde, silky flyaway behind the small, sensitive ear and kiss the corner of that jaw, a spot that would tickle and arouse… She could feel arousal, hot and clawing, climbing up her skin, ready to breach the tight collar of her dress at any moment.

What a mess. And what a mess she was, still, for this woman…

And then, as surprisingly as her heart suddenly losing its goddamn mind over a one-night-stand, the woman in question found not just her courage but also her spite.

“Are we to simply assume you have the power to fire the entire faculty, Mrs. Nox?”

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