Page 14 of Spark of Sorcery

Why should I care who Professor Fox wraps his arms around – even if he wraps them around Madame Bardin?

“Well he had to in order to rescue me from the maze,” she says matter-of-factly.

“He rescued you?” I say, wondering if that high-pitch note in my voice is jealousy.

I have three of the academy’s hottest men chasing me – okay, I don’t want anything to do with them but that is hardly the point. Why the hell would I begrudge Clare this? She is intelligent, pretty and kind. Why wouldn’t a cold-hearted soulless man like Fox Tudor want her?

“Briony,” Fly says, tugging on my hair, “that was his job. To fish any students in danger out of the maze.”

“Oh,” I say, the jealousy fading as quickly as it had risen, replaced with something just as bitter.

Because if Professor Tudor was meant to rescue students from the maze, then why the hell didn’t he rescue me?

Chapter Six

Fox

Rain still cascades from the sky as I fly along the cobbled pathways back in the direction of the Great Hall. Its windows still glow from within but when I crash through the doors, I find only servants remaining, clearing the remnants of this evening’s dinner. They look up at me in alarm and I suspect I look wild. Ifeelfucking wild.

I sweep straight back out of the hall, up the staircase and along the corridor, stopping right outside her room. Inside, she’ll be entertaining – maybe an old lover, maybe a new, maybe someone she hopes to seduce.

I don’t give a shit.

I shoot my magic against the heavy door and it flies right off its hinges and crashes into the room.

Through the gap in the now open doorway, I spy her,leaning against her desk, smoking one of her thin cigarettes. There is no one with her tonight.

“Do you always have to be so damn dramatic?” she says, sucking on her cigarette and rolling her kohl-rimmed eyes. This evening she’s wearing a red velvet dress that clings to her body like blood, matching the color of her lips and her nails.

Lifting my hands, I stride into her room. I haven’t been here in years. I’ve avoided it at all costs. It gives me the creeps – and this from a man who sleeps in a fucking dungeon.

“What the hell did you do?” I bark.

She removes the cigarette from her mouth, rocking it between her fingers and flicking ash into the glass ashtray behind her.

“Plenty, I’m sure. You’ll need to be more precise, Fox.”

“You doctored that trial, manipulated it, kept her locked inside the maze for longer than she should have been.”

“And who exactly are we talking about?” Her eyes flash.

There’s no point attempting to hide it or to deny it. She attacked the girl in the maze – tortured her. It’s clear she’s worked it out for herself.

I am more transparent than I thought and it has brought her into danger.

“You know,” I growl, scowling at her.

She stubs out her cigarette and pushes off her desk, stepping towards me.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” she says all innocently. “You are going to have to tell me.”

She must feel the rage radiating off my body, she must see how tightly coiled I am, ready to launch at her – to fucking destroy her. But she looks amused rather thanafraid, as if I’m nothing but a nuisance child come to bother her.

“What did you do to her?” My magic sparks from my fingertips, shooting across the space and curling around her neck.

She grins, licking her lips.

“One of our favorite games, Fox. Do you remember? We had such fun together. I don’t understand why we still couldn't.”