Page 11 of Spark of Sorcery
“Then let’s fucking remind them,” I say, bouncing forward, my shadows all too ready to inflict some serious damage on all these dickwads.
“No,” Beaufort says, catching me by the arm. “That didn't work last time. They’re operating behind our backs.”
“If she just wore the damn collar,” I say, scowling at Beaufort.
If he just kept his mouth focused on satisfying her pussy instead of spouting fucking nonsense and ending up entangled in arguments with her, things would probably be a lot more different to how they are. In fact, I’m pretty damn certain she’d be lying in my bed right now – she’d probably be coming on the end of my tongue right this second.
“You don’t think I’ve told her that over and over again.”
“You need to go say you’re sorry. Make it up with her. Girls love that shit. Get down on your knees, beg for forgiveness and before you know it, she’ll be riding your cock again.”
Beaufort grunts. He doesn’t do apologies, it’s not in his nature, plus he’s never had to. Guys in his position never do.
“You could go now,” I prompt. “Night isn’t over. It’sclear we’re not going to solve this mystery tonight and besides, our best lead is the girl herself anyway.”
“It’s too late,” he mutters.
“Then in the morning?” His body tenses. I cock my head. “You’re heading home?”
“Yeah.” He rakes his hand through his head. “I’ve been told.”
“Got my Ma bitching at me to come home too,” I say. I didn’t mind the idea yesterday. The thought of heading home for the night, eating home-cooked meals, sleeping in my own bed, hanging with my brothers, sounded pretty tempting. Tonight, it’s the last thing I want to do.
I guess Beau feels the same way because he says, “Leaving Briony here at the academy after what just happened, is risky.”
“You think she’d come with one of us?” I say, and by one of us – I mean me.
Beau shakes his head. “Anyway, it could be just as dangerous. We don’t know who’s using her to get to us and if they suspect the truth …”
I chew this over, munching on the gum in my mouth that’s starting to lose its flavor.
“Thorne will be here,” I say at last, “we’ll make sure he’s watching her.”
Chapter Five
Briony
It wasn’t Fox.
Whoever – or whatever – it was that saved me in the maze, it wasn’t the professor.
I race back up the stairs, berating myself as I go, the stone still clutched in my hands, buried under my jacket.
What the hell was I thinking? Of course, it wasn’t Fox Tudor who saved me. Why the hell would he? Just because he offered me advice about Madame Bardin does not mean … does not mean … what was I even considering it did mean? That the man cared about me? Had feelings for me?
How stupid could one person be? Whatever Fox Tudor once was, Professor Tudor is cold and hard and apathetic. He’d no more care for me than he would care to cut off his own foot from his leg.
No, it wasn’t Fox who saved me in that maze, and, therefore, it isn’t him I can trust with this secret.
Which leaves the question? Who the hell was it?
I race back along the pathways. The rain batters around me, the cobbled stones slippery and wet. Twice I slip, clutching the stone tightly to my body as I regain my footing.
Finally, I make it back to the safety of my tower and my room.
I sit down on my bed and stare down at the stone, tracing my fingertips along the fissures forming on its surface.
What can it mean? And why did it happen now?
