Page 1 of Virgo Queen
Chapter One
Mallory
I must literally be the last remaining virgin in the whole Icarus Academy.
The reason I say this is because I’ve already blundered into two couples—and now a throuple—feverishly making out in the shadows of the dormitory stairs in my residential college.
Wow.
That’s… actually happening. Two guys and a girl.
Like an actual menage.
They’re blocking the stairs and they’re distracting. But I just keep going and mosey right on past. I’ve got someplace I need to be tonight.
“Sorry, guys. Don’t mind me,” I mumble as I edge around the amorous throuple.
“Sod off, McSnicker. We’re busy here.” One guy surfaces from that triple sex sandwich barely long enough to lob a discarded bra (regulation Academy uniform, meaning virginal white lace) in my general direction.
When I duck to avoid getting hit in the face by flying lingerie, I almost take a nosedive down the stairs.
“Geez Louise,” I grumble, teetering on the edge of disaster on my too-long legs in my borrowed platform heels. “Already own plenty of those, thanks. I have a whole drawer full upstairs.”
Not that anyone notices what I’m wearing.
Not even for my special night.
My classmates have already returned to their three-way.
Invisibility is an extinct magical trait in all four arcane races (plus the two hidden species the others don’t know about) that comprise the witching world. Magical traits are genetic, and therefore inherited, like we learn in Science of Witchcraft class our freshman year here at the witch academy.
But I don’t need any special DNA to slip past unnoticed in this Academy.
Totally unacknowledged in any way after the whole bra incident, I steady my wobbly steps, avert my eyes politely—like the good girl I am—and tiptoe past the half-naked threesome who are now panting and groping (they’re a girl from my dorm and two guys from our rival college I barely know). There’s barely room to squeeze past on the twisty haunted house staircase that plunges from the student dorm in Villa Hadrian—that’s the name of our residential college—down to the spooky basement.
Somehow, I make it work. I have to.
In typical Mallory McSnicker fashion, I’m already late.
Late to my own birthday bash.
Given my general McSnicker clumsiness (which is one inherited trait I could’ve done without), it’s definitely not a smart idea to hurry down these corkscrew stairs in the dark. The ancient treads are worn with age and barely lit by the occasional rusted branch of candelabra sticking out from the shredded ruin of the blood red Victorian-eraTrue BloodFangtasiawallpaper.
But I hurry anyway.
It’s easier to camouflage the fact that I’m the tallest, skinniest girl in the whole school when I’m wearing the plaid skirt and blazer and saddle shoes stipulated in the Academy Codex. Tonight I’m a lot more conspicuous (at least in theory) teetering along in these glittery platform heels and a sparkly silver party dress that barely hits mid-thigh on my giraffe-like legs.
In this getup, I’ll be lucky if I don’t break a leg before I even manage to show for my own birthday bash. Despite the fact that I’m tempting fate, I rest a hand on the wall for stability—because everything in this Academy is ancient, and the banister rotted away decades ago—and pick up my pace till I’m trotting (unsteadily) down the stairs.
The metallic grind of axe-murder metal, mingled with a snarl of youthful voices and an occasional girly squeal, floats up from the dark cavern of the dorm basement.
Firelight flickers from the battered oil drums we use for illumination down there. Facets of light dance against the ruined wallpaper and make my dress sparkle like fairy dust in the darkness.
I pause to let myself savor the magic of this moment.
Just for a sec.
I’m no wicked telepath like my classmate Ronin Pendragon, I’m pretty much a nonentity in the magical superpowers department. But the whole school’s excitement pulses from the basement like a beating heart. We’re not supposed to be partying down there, in the unsafe and basically condemned medieval dungeon basement—which is also rumored to be haunted.
