Page 41 of Her Dreadful Will
Pain. Corruption.
Chaos.
But chaos magic wasn’t a thing anymore, if it ever existed. No textbooks referenced it, and no professors at the Institute had mentioned it. She only knew of its potential existence through a whispered conversation with Tarek a couple years ago. Chaos wasn’t an affinity, he’d said. It was more like a curse, or an addiction. For some it was inborn, for others a learned habit. Whatever it was, the Convocation had strictly forbidden its mention or practice. She didn’t ask Tarek how he knew of it.
“What are you thinking about?” Achan was dancing near her, a distracting aroma of smoky citrus wafting from him.
“What kind of cologne is that?”
“You’re asking about my cologne?”
She flushed, smirking. “Well, you won’t answer any of my other questions.”
“It’s ‘Guilty’ Pour Homme. By Gucci.”
“And are you guilty of something?”
“Ah, I see what you’re doing.” He grinned, taking her hands lightly and moving them both in a slow circle. “You’re trying to sneak in more questions. Tell that busy brain of yours to take a break. Stop wondering, and just—be.”
Releasing her hands, he drifted away, and Soleil tried consciously to relax, to feel the music in her veins, the way she did at home when it was just her dancing like crazy to “Shake It Off” while Cerberus watched in a confused half-panic. She’d taken some hip-hop and jazz as a kid, so she had decent moves. She’d even mind-flexed her way onto the cheerleading squad and made it halfway through a semester before guilt overcame her and she faked an injury to get out of it, letting the alternate have a shot. Soleil sometimes wondered if she could have made it through the cheerleading auditions on her own merit, but she’d gotten nervous and yielded to the temptation to tweak Mrs. Valdez’s will in her favor.
Stupid memory, stupid guilt. She was supposed to be relaxing, freeing her mind. Not thinking, just dancing. Just movement, and the magic of the symbols on her body, and the moonlight seeping into her skin.
The playlist Lindsey had designed was a DJ’s dream—a perfect mix of fast and slow songs. Most of them were remixed anthems to power, nature, or the spirit, but he’d thrown in the occasional romantic number like a metal cover of “Can’t Fight the Moonlight”—an ironic choice that made Soleil smile.
The next time she stole a glance at Achan, he was in some kind of copycat dance-off with Delaney. He did a full-body roll that turned Soleil hot all over, and Delaney imitated it before doing her own sexy version of the Cabbage Patch.
“Busting out the ‘90s hip-hop—all right.” He copied the move, lips pursed in an exaggerated pout.
Delaney cracked up, doubling over, while Achan laughed just as hard and helplessly.
No chaos witch could be that silly at a moonlight circle. Soleil shook her suspicions out of her head. Achan was just fascinated with the creepier aspects of nature magic. Nothing scary, nothing dangerous.
Angelou whirled by, showering Soleil with a handful of glitter, herbs, and spice—jasmine and cinnamon, if Soleil’s nose was to be trusted. “Having fun yet?”
“Yeah, but I have to say, this is not what I expected.”
“This is just the beginning, to get everyone loosened up. We’ll move into the serious part of it soon. There’s drinks over there if you want one. Delaney makes this tea to enhance our connection. No drugs or alcohol—just natural stuff. Achan likes to keep things clean.”
No drugs and no booze at the witchy dance? Yeah, this guy was the furthest possible thing from an agent of evil.
A wild beat kicked up next, hollow drums and flutes echoing through the clearing. Lindsey sidled past Soleil, doing some kind of jig. The gold crescent-moon pendant bobbed against his forehead with each quick step, and he was grinning so infectiously that she giggled.
“I like your playlist,” she said, linking arms with him and syncing her steps to his. “Are you a DJ in real life?”
“Yes I am,” he replied. “I’m also a mechanic, specializing in the restoration of vintage cars.”
She glanced down at his fingers, thick and strong, and faintly smudged with grease. A wedding band gleamed on one of them. “Does your partner know? About your magic?”
“She does, so she’s technically a cognizant. She came to a couple of these gatherings, when we could get a babysitter, but it’s not as meaningful for her as it is for me.” He gave a resigned little nod. “She’s back in Atlanta with the kids right now.”
“Where did you used to have these meetings? Before Achan moved here?”
“We met in a couple of towns, usually near his place in Birmingham. Wherever he goes, we go. What he says, we do.” He never stopped smiling, and the light in his eyes when he glanced at Achan was nearly worshipful.
“Why?” Soleil said quietly. “What’s so special about him?”
“What’s so special?” Lindsey chuckled. “Everything. Can’t you feel it?”
