I aimed my eyes upward, maybe in part to get them off his. I looked above the top of his head to where something hovereddirectly above it. That looked exactly like I remembered, too, exactly like it had in every dream and nightmare I’d had since I was ten.
A black, coiling, living flame writhed and glowed around a smoking black crystal.
The flame rippled as if under a heavy wind.
“You must be the mongrel,” he sneered.
The venom in his words drew my eyes back to his.
I fought to focus once I’d absorbed what he’d said, mostly bewildered.
A few students in my summer bridging course made remarks about my hybrid blood, of course, but even the worst of them, a witch named Elysia Warrington, hadn’t called me anything so crude, not to my face. Warrington mostly just smirked and talked about me as if I wasn’t there, trying to get a laugh.
And no, maybe I didn’t understand theexactconnotations of the slur, but it wasn’t all that difficult to puzzle out.
Anyway, the reactions of Miranda, Draken, and Luc made the meaning clear.
All three of them stiffened.
“I know everyone is anxious to see what nifty tricks you can perform, little mongrel,” the disturbingly handsome mage said. “I guess we can’t really call you awitch,can we? Much less a magia. Do you qualify as a magical beast, I wonder?”
Draken stood up.
For the first time, I felt actually alarmed. I watched my new acquaintance, maybe even friend by then, step towards the tall, platinum-haired mage, his shoulders stiff. Their heights nearly matched, with the blond being maybe an inch taller.
“You ought to be more polite,” Draken said through gritted teeth.
The new mage smiled.
“Oh my.” He looked disturbingly pleased with Draken’s reaction. “Did I insult your skanky little half-breed girlfriend, Hollywood?” His lips twitched. “A thousand pardons. I’m sure she’s quite proficient in the uses you make of her.”
At Draken’s stunned look, followed by his disgust, the blond mage laughed.
It was a dark laugh.
“Artemis’s tits, look at the gormless, slack-jawed surprise. Of course I know who you are,” he said contemptuously. “The great Draken Joran. Son to that drunk, overhyped hack, Gragen Joran. I knew you were coming to my family’s school before you did.”
He glanced at me. I was taken aback by the sheer hatred in those gold eyes.
“Cat got your tongue, mongrel?” he sneered. “You need Hollywood here to speak for you? That’s too bad. That tongue of yours must be talented if you’ve got him this wound up, ready to defend your honor already.”
“What an absolute pig you are,” Miranda declared. She sounded almost bewildered. “It’s almost impressive just how unlikeable you’ve managed to be in…” She checked her watch. “…just over a minute, and without even bothering to speak to most of us.”
I noticed the blond mage didn’t spare Miranda so much as a glance, nor look at Luc longer than it took him to catalogue his overall presence.
His eyes returned to Draken. “Well? Are we going to do this or not? All because I dared speak to your sweet little puppy with the impressively large tits?”
Draken’s face twisted in a darker disgust and rage. “Zeus and Hera. You really are a nasty piece of work,” he muttered.
“And?” the blond asked pleasantly. “How about it? I haven’t got all day.” He motioned towards the door leading to the street. “Shall we?”
Draken scoffed. “You want us to brawl like children?”
“I promise not to steal your half-breed from you, Hollywood, even if you lose.” He winked at me, his tongue pointedly pushing out his cheek. “Even if she asks ever-so-politely. Even if she gives me a run on that pretty mouth of hers?”
“You really don’t stop, do you??” Miranda asked in disbelief.
“Apologize,” Draken snarled. “Godsdamnit, you willapologize.Right now.”
