Page 26 of Bonds of Magic (Vesperwood Academy: Incubus #3)

CORY

M y eyes widened. I’d completely forgotten about our lesson. Our misadventure in Hunt Haven had pushed it out of my head entirely.

“Coming,” I called. “I’ll be right out.”

Noah had never actually opened my door before, but with my luck, tonight would be the first time.

I scrambled to pull on a new shirt and grab my coat, grimacing in pain as my skin stretched and moved.

I smacked the back of my hand on the wall when pulling on my coat, and while jumping in pain from that, managed to stub my toe on the desk.

I was breathing hard and looked like a raccoon popping up from a trashcan by the time I finally got the door open.

“Everything alright in there?” Noah said, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” I shook myself, then wished I hadn’t. “Yeah, all good.”

He must have caught my wince because when I turned to walk down the hall, he put his hand on my shoulder. It was only there for a second before he pulled it away, but a shudder ran through my body nonetheless.

“What?” I tried to keep my voice even. I’d be damned if I sounded as electrified as I felt.

He gave me a flat look. “You sure you’re okay? You seem a little…unsteady. If it’s too late to get started tonight, we could—”

“I’m fine,” I interrupted. “Stubbed my toe is all. Putting my shoes on.”

He held my gaze. My cheeks heated. But then I remembered why we were starting late in the first place.

“Where were you earlier?” I asked. I might as well take advantage of the fact that Noah was looking at me for once. That was a rare occurrence, lately.

“Off campus. I told you that already.”

“Yeah, but where off campus? Pointe Claudette?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He started walking. “Come on. If we don’t get going, we won’t have any time left at all.”

Anger flared inside me, and I was silent for the rest of our walk. Noah was silent too, but he usually was, so I couldn’t tell if it meant anything. The fresh shirt I’d put on rubbed against the burns on my stomach, and I hoped he couldn’t see the face I was making in the dark.

Right in front of his cabin, my shoe caught on a rock. I tumbled forward, already anticipating the pain of my chin hitting the ground, but Noah’s arm swept in front of me, pulling me upright.

I yelled in pain and pushed against his arm. I ought to have been grateful he’d kept me from falling face-first on the icy forest floor, but all I could think about was how much his arm hurt, pressed up against my stomach.

“Stop, stop,” I shouted, trying to shove his arm away.

He let his arm fall, not protesting. But he stared in consternation as I moaned, gritting my teeth against the pain in my abdomen.

I wanted to wrap my arms around myself, but that would only make it worse.

Instead, I hunched, hands on my knees, and tried to catch my breath.

A little whimper escaped my mouth as I inhaled.

“Cory, what’s actually wrong? You’ve been walking stiffly the whole way here, and it’s clearly more than a stubbed toe.”

“I’m fine,” I said through gritted teeth, still not over the pain flaring in my middle.

“Like hell you are. Was this Sean? Did he do something to you?”

That pulled me up short. “What? No. He had nothing to do with this.”

I mean, technically, he kind of had, but not in the way Noah meant. Sean didn’t set the enchantment on that door. Sean hadn’t even known I was in Hunt.

“I…had an accident,” I said, hearing how lame that sounded. “Forgot I’d lit a candle, leaned over it, and my sweater caught on fire.

Noah just looked at me.

“My skin got a little singed. It doesn’t feel great when I press on it. But that’s all.”

Noah stomped up the steps to the cabin and opened the door. “Get in.”

It was more of a grunt than a set of distinct words, but I did as I was told. My torso might be on fire, but the rest of me was cold and eager to get inside where it was warm. I shrugged off my jacket and started for the couch, but Noah shook his head.

“This way.” He pointed to a door on the far side of the kitchen that I’d never seen open. It proved to be a tiny bathroom, with a shower so narrow I was astounded his shoulders could fit inside it. There was a window above the toilet, and a potted fern sat on the sill.

“Sit.” He pointed at the toilet lid.

I did, grateful to be off my feet. The walk down from the manor wasn’t that long, but it had tired me more than I wanted to admit.

He pointed at my shirt next. “Off.”

“I think I’m fine, actually.”

I was a little indignant. What right did he have to bark monosyllabic orders and expect that I’d obey? I knew he probably just wanted to be sure I wouldn’t die in his cabin and leave a mess for him to clean up, but I wasn’t going to die. Not from this, anyway.

I stood up again, not quite able to suppress a wince. “You said yourself, we’re short on time. We should get started.”

“Not until I know you’re not about to keel over from pain,” Noah said, and any triumph I felt about having predicted his motives was swamped by a wave of humiliation.

“I’m fine ,” I said for the millionth time.

“Are you going to make me undress you? Because I will. If you’re going to act like a child, I’ll treat you like one.”

My options were to surrender or to throw a tantrum, and neither left me much dignity. I chose surrender. At least that meant I could remove my shirt as gently as possible.

I hissed as I started to pull it off. The fabric had stuck to the burn, stretching my skin as I moved.

It was awful. I didn’t even complain when Noah helped me tug it free.

Anything to get my arms down sooner. I balled the shirt up in my hands and held it in my lap as Noah’s eyes roamed over my skin.

He let out a long whistle, but not of the ‘ goddamn, you’re hot ,’ variety. It was much more ‘ goddamn, what did you do to yourself, you idiot .’ I looked up at him mutinously.

“You didn’t get those burns from grazing a candle,” he said. “Not unless you lay on top of it and about a hundred others for five minutes, just for fun.”

“It was an accident,” I repeated. I didn’t look down at my stomach. I knew it was a mess, and it contradicted everything I said.

“Why didn’t you go to the infirmary?”

“I didn’t think it was that big a deal.”

“Or you didn’t want to tell anyone how it happened.” Noah gave me a hard look. “What the hell were you doing, Cory?”

I hated this. I hated giving obviously false answers. Hated the well-meaning questions. Hated having to hide the truth.

But I knew if I told Noah exactly what had happened, I’d get an earful.

Plus, he’d probably tell Dean Mansur, and fine, maybe the dean should be aware of the fact that some of his students were proposing to force the truth out of him, but then I’d also be forbidden to keep investigating.

And I hated feeling useless most of all.

I sighed. “Look, what I was doing isn’t important.

But what I found out is. There’s a group of students—Hunters, mostly—who don’t believe the story about Erika dying in an accident.

Valeria, her older sister, is their leader.

And they’re talking about finding a way to force the dean to tell the truth. ”

Noah’s eyes narrowed, and he nodded at my torso. “And you think that discovering that was worth the cost?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Cory, the dean knows there are people who are unconvinced. He’s been dealing with this for weeks now. He’s got it covered.”

“They were talking about using violence. Valeria was against it, but still, how long until someone decides to take things into their own hands? The dean might not be safe.”

“Isaac Mansur has been dealing with threats longer than you’ve been alive. He knows what he’s doing. You, on the other hand, don’t.”

Noah held my eyes, watching like he wanted to see his insult sink in. I looked away first, my eyes moving to the shirt in my hands. Only then did he speak again.

“Whatever you were doing, it was obviously reckless. I shouldn’t have to remind you that your life is already in danger. I’d make you promise not to do this again, but I suspect you’d break that promise, and I don’t want you to cheapen your word.”

I frowned, trying to work through what he was saying.

“Instead, I’ll ask you to tell me before you feel compelled to do something else stupid. At least that way if you get yourself killed, we’ll know where to find your body. Can you do that?”

His words were harsh, but the light in his eyes made me scared to argue with him. I had a feeling I never wanted to see Noah when he was truly enraged. He was so tall, looming over me with his broad frame, practically filling the room.

“Yes,” I said reluctantly. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Good. Now stay still while I get you cleaned up.”

He turned and pulled a first aid kit out from underneath the sink. From the outside, it looked like the kind you could pick up at any drug store, full of gauze and alcohol wipes. But when he flicked open the lid, it was so much more than that.

There were vials in various colors. One was filled with clear liquid that might have been rubbing alcohol, but what was the bottle filled with green liquid and a swirling gold spiral?

What was the pink one with purple bubbles that sloshed back and forth?

There were tubes of ointments and little jars of salves and bandages covered in the script of languages I didn’t recognize.

There was even a box of Band-Aids that were shaped like different parts of the human body.

“What do they do?” I asked, pointing at the box.

“Painkillers,” Noah said. “Stick them on the affected bodypart and they melt into it, dissolving pain as they go. Last about six hours each.”

“Oh.”

He removed a small glass jar filled with bright blue jelly, streaked with swirls of red, like raspberry jam.

“This should accelerate healing,” he said. “If you won’t go to Cinda, it’s the best I can do. Now hold still.”