Page 38 of Bonds of Magic (Vesperwood Academy: Incubus #3)

NOAH

I couldn’t get to Pointe Claudette until the next evening, which meant I had to skip the poker night Nat was organizing. I thought about suggesting that Sheridan should go in my place, if Nat wanted someone she could take money from easily. But I didn’t want to foist him on people l actually liked.

I couldn’t avoid seeing Cory again in class that afternoon. Not that I didn’t try.

I divided the class into small groups, two students sparring on a mat while a few others clustered around, giving pointers and waiting their turns. It was still basic hand-to-hand combat. I didn’t move into weaponry until sophomore year.

I’d been going from group to group, assessing and instructing. I was standing one mat away from Cory. Ostensibly, I was watching the group in front of me, but it was hard for my eyes not to return to him. He was currently in the center of his mat, sparring with Felix.

To my surprise, Cory was holding his own.

Granted, Felix wasn’t exactly a whiz at combat either, but Cory looked more at ease in his stance than I’d expected.

He was on the balls of his feet, weight distributed evenly, waiting for Felix to advance.

When he did, Cory was able to block his blows the way I’d shown everyone.

He looked pleased with himself when he and Felix broke apart, and I flushed with pride.

Of course, that happened to be the moment he flicked a glance in my direction.

His face went from happy to stony in an instant, and he turned away so sharply, it felt like a cut. Which was ridiculous. I wanted distance between the two of us. But I hated to think I’d hurt him.

“Looks like everyone’s doing well down here,” said a voice behind me. I turned to see Cinda walking up to me.

“They’re trying,” I said. “Whether they’re succeeding is another question. But they are trying. What brings you down here?”

Cinda smiled a motherly smile and said, “It’s been a few weeks. I wanted to check in on my patient. Cory hasn’t been back to see me.”

“Was he supposed to?” Worry flashed through me. I’d gotten the impression that he had healed from that night in the snow. But maybe I should have forced him to check in with her.

“No, no,” she said easily. “I’m pleased if he hasn’t felt the need to. But I like to check in just the same.” Her voice was soft. “I don’t think he has a lot of support here. So I figured an extra bit couldn’t hurt.”

I blinked. Since when did Cinda know anything about Cory? Part of me wanted to object, and tell her I could support Cory fine on my own. But that was childish. Maybe he could use some more people looking out for him. If I really cared about doing right by him, I shouldn’t stand in the way of that.

“That’s kind of you.” I was proud of how natural the words sounded.

She shrugged. “I know what it’s like to lose people.”

I tried to recall what I knew about Cinda. She’d come to Vesperwood a year ago. She hadn’t been at another university before, but Isaac had said she was highly recommended nonetheless.

Had he told me anything else? I had a nagging sense that he might have mentioned something about her family. Was there some kind of accident? I couldn’t remember, and it didn’t seem right to ask her point blank.

If Cinda noticed my pause, she didn’t seem bothered by it. She just said, “Would you mind calling him over here?”

“Cory,” I barked.

He looked up, confused, but as soon as he saw me, his eyes went hard.

“Over here.” I said. “Now.”

He sighed and walked over, his posture sullen. When he joined us, he didn’t even greet Cinda. He just stared down at his shoes. I was torn between the urge to tell him to act like an adult, and to beg for his forgiveness. I settled for silence instead.

“How are you feeling, Cory?” Cinda asked, when neither of us spoke.

“Fine.” He didn’t look up.

“Are you sure?

“Yeah. I’m good.” He flicked a glance at her, then resumed his study of the polished wood floor.

“Sweetheart, would you look at me? Please?” Her voice was so gentle.

He looked up, and she caught his chin in her fingertips. I wanted to scream. What right did she have to touch him? To stroke his cheek the way I wished I could?

She tilted his head this way and that, inspecting him for who knew what. His black eye and bruises had faded weeks ago. Maybe it was just an excuse to get him to look her in the eye.

“Any lingering pain?” she asked. “Any trouble breathing, or strain when you move?”

“No.” Cory held her gaze. “Really, I feel fine. Totally back to normal.”

“Well, alright.” She released his chin. “I’m glad to hear it. But you know you can come see me if you’re ever in pain, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded emphatically.

I had the sense he wanted the conversation to end. I did too. Being this close to him made every nerve in my body light up, made them sing with pleasure.

It was torture.

“I guess that’s that.” Cinda clapped her hands together briskly and turned to me. “Thank you for letting me interrupt your class.”

“No problem.”

She cocked her head to the side. “How are you feeling these days? Any need for more—”

“I’m fine,” I said, as forcefully as I could. I didn’t need Cory thinking there was anything wrong with me. “But I really should get back to my students.”

“I’ll let you do that.”

She headed for the door, and I watched her leave. When she was gone, I turned, ready to tell everyone it was time to switch. But Cory was still standing in front of me.

“What did she mean?” he asked. “About how you were feeling?”

“Nothing.”

“It didn’t sound like nothing.” His eyes were accusatory.

“She’s a Healer. They’re always on the look-out for baby birds they can mother.”

“It sounded like she thought something was—”

“Drop it, Cory.” It came out colder than I meant it to.

“Fine.” He turned around.

“Wait. I wasn’t done.”

He didn’t walk away, but he didn’t turn to look at me again either.

“What?” He bit the word off.

“Were you telling the truth? To Cinda?”

“Why the fuck do you—” Cory broke off and looked over his shoulder. “What do you care?”

I dropped my voice. “I care because you came into my cabin with a burned torso not so long ago, and you refused to go to the infirmary for it. I want to make sure you’re really okay.”

“Really?”

“Really.” I lowered my voice even more. “Look, just because things have to be…a certain way…doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. You’re my student. I want you to be healthy. And safe. I’m trying to—”

“Well, don’t,” he snapped. “I told you before. I don’t need it.”

“Cory, I just meant that—”

“Have fun in Pointe Claudette tonight,” he said, then stalked away.