Page 57 of Phoenix Academy: Madness

Maybe I can figure out the witch's name and find out more information from pursuing research in that direction. If a witch made someone like the Heretic, a witch couldunmakehim, and that witch could be me. The only way I'll find out more is if I go to the closest coven, though, and that means sneaking off campus—something I've considered dozens of times but never really endeavored to try.

If there's no other way, though, I'll have to leave this place, with or without taming my magic or releasing the trio from their familiar bond. There are so many things I could learn from the witch covens, especially now that my mother is no longer around to forbid me from wading into the depths of witch politics too deeply. They might have answers, and unlike the Blue Phoenix I see in my prophetic dreams, they might actually give me those answers.

The only thing is, I don't know if I can leave this place so easily. Somehow, without even realizing it, in the past four months I've started to become attached to the school. I like having my own bed indoors, feeling safe on campus, and learning new things in classes with talented people who know magic exists. This feels like a place where I get to beme.

More than that, I know that if I sneak out, I may never get to come back. And I'll miss certain people I've met here, regardless of how hard I try not to think about them.

"What'cha reading?"

I jump at Reggie's voice, whirling around and shoving the book awkwardly behind my back. "Just a boring history book about magic."

"For a boring book, it sure has distracted you." He cranes his head around to try to see what I'm holding behind my back, and I realize—too late—that I've just made the book that much more interesting by trying to hide it. "And you're acting like it's embarrassing. What is it, a guide to tantric sex or something? You can show me. I promise to only makeonedirty joke. Well, two. Cross my heart."

"It's not tantric sex." Just saying those words to Reggie is enough to make my heart flutter, my stomach do somersaults, and a blush rise to my cheeks. Damn him and the wicked smile he's now sporting in my direction. "I swear it isn't anything perverted! Just a... a book on dark magic."

"Huh." An aisle over, someone—probably the librarian—shushes us, and I realize my voice has been rising in embarrassment with every word I say. So it's a miracle I don't screech in horror when Reggie asks me, "If it's a book on dark magic and not sex, why are you acting so weird about it? I thought you were only blushing because you have a crush on me. Not because you're into the arcane arts."

"A crush?" There it is: another shush from the next aisle, because I can't seem to pitch my volume to librarian-approved lows. Quieter, I tell him, "I never said I have a crush on you."

"Never had to."

"Who told?"

"Other people know?" Cocking his head, he leans a hip against the bookshelf next to him and grins at me. "Do you mean my brother? Nah, he would've mentioned it. Must be David—somehow I doubt one of our teachers knows about your little crush. Huh. Did he figure it out on his own, or did you tell him?"

If I could hold up a mirror to my face right now, I have no doubt that I'd see a giant tomato with a blue wig on its head, that's how bright red I must be blushing. "I didn't—I mean, I guess I, I mean... Wait, how didyoufigure it out?"

"Because you like looking at me." The quirk to Reggie's mouth makes it clear that he doesn't think I'll contradict him. "Also, apparently you kissed my brother, and we all know whohelooks like: me."

"Technically you look like him."

"How dare you," Reggie quips with a smirk. "So, wannareallyfind that tantric sex book? I'm sure there's one around here. Maybe100 Ways a Witch Uses a Broomstick."

Scowling, Ithwaphim gently on the nose with the book I'm holding, like a trainer punishing an errant puppy dog. "I can't do that to your brother. Also, gross, witches don't use broomsticks at all, much lessthatway."

"Really? Because I saw the most delightful video—ow. Ow! Okay, stop hitting me with the book already, I'll shut up."

Laughing and scowling at the same time, I point out, "I don't think that's possible."

By the time I catch my breath, I'm somehow inches away from Reggie, staring up into his face. This close, I notice things—like the fact that his braids are just a little bit smaller and shorter than his brother's, and his eyes are a slightly different shade of golden brown, not just because he wears contacts.

Also, when he smiles, there's a little dimple that curls up in the corner of his mouth that I've never seen on Xavier's mouth, maybe because Xavier doesn't smirk that cockily. Right now I find myself staring at it, a little out of my mind, leaning forward towards him until I can smell his subtle cologne, which is different too.

Reaching out, Reggie brushes the side of my mouth with the pad of his thumb, and my heart does things it's never done before.

Then I look up, meet his eyes, and realize this just might happen. We just might kiss.

Until, that is, someone shows up to stop us.

Chapter 27

"Wereyou planning on checking that book out, or were you just going to smush it against your coat until it loses all shape?"

I startle at Beatrice Trout's voice, coming from just behind Reggie. She's so short that she snuck up on us, and based on the look of irritation on her face, she knows what was about to happen.

"You know," she points out, "this isn't asocialclub. The library was founded to further knowledge of the supernatural and forge a generations-long bond between shifter and phoenix families. We've even worked tirelessly to have an exchange with other supernatural schools around the world, including schools of magecraft and wizardry. This isnotthe place for fraternization."

As Reggie solemnly says, "Yes, of course, we're very sorry," he's also somehow reaching around behind me to lightly pinch my butt cheek, making me yelp.

---