Rosemary Johns - Rebel Academy - Crush

I winced. “How about screw the incubus and save our ears ?”

Sleipnir raised his hand. “You have my vote.”

I still had it.

Fox glanced up from the snowcat that he was building. He’d used a fallen branch as its tail, pushed a pebble onto its head to be its nose, and drawn on whiskers. Now, he was molding its ears as lovingly as if he expected it to spring to life.

“Seconded. These screwing to save the world dilemmas are tough on us superheroes. Just last week, I was faced with screwing Harley Quinn.” He smirked at the possessive way Sleipnir’s hair bristled to red. That was a fine bit of alpha posturing, when we all knew that last week , the most our whipping boy had been doing with his dick was wanking with it. “It’s okay, I didn’t go through with it. Batman was just bouncing up and down to do the honors. You should’ve seen his excited little face. I mean, I couldn’t actually see his face behind the mask, but he was up for it.” Fox smiled at us innocently. “So, what did the familiars find out about the mission?”

Magenta sighed. “Do you know the ruins? Almost five hundred years ago, the first Blessedly Charmed witch was born. I’m the only other one born after her, and it rather appears that I’ve corrupted the magic. To be kept pure, they built a small house in the grounds for a nanny and her alone.” When her hands bunched in her lap, I wondered if she was crushing one of her familiars or if they’d already flapped somewhere else. I wished that she was holding me, even if she crushed me. “Wasn’t I lucky to be kept only in the Bird Turret?”

“As lucky as me only to be locked in the attic, rather than thrown to the wolves like my brother,” Fox muttered.

“Flair says that there’s powerful magic in the ruins that doesn’t belong there.” Magenta’s eyes narrowed. “The House of Crows have stolen it from the angels: A Gateway .”

Fox froze. “I read the word Gateway with my power from Damelza on my first night. She was one pissed off witch.”

Sleipnir sprawled on the snow, cradling his head on his hands. “How’d you think we travel from the academy to other realms? The Gateway is both a powerful weapon and a way to walk between worlds. They shouldn’t exist outside Angel World, but I’d take a guess that our fae patron is asshole enough to steal one. Then he’s using the academy students like his personal mercenaries.”

“ Expendable mercenaries,” I added.

I remembered the way that Hector had fought the demons in the Eternal Forest because we’d messed up the stealthy plan and been discovered. I was haunted by the look of fear in his eyes, as he’d been snatched away from me. I’d battled to his side, but I wasn’t a warrior, and I hadn’t been fast enough. I hadn’t even seen what’d pulled him up into the air like he’d been wrapped in shadows, but then, he’d been ripped apart. His blood had wept across my face. It’d baptized my cheeks, nose, and lips.

Red, red, red.

I scrubbed my hand across my cheeks frantically. They were wet. But incubi didn’t cry.

Please don’t let it be blood…

I bit back a horrified gasp, and my breath became ragged.

Fox shot me a concerned glance. Then I noticed the snowflakes resting on his eyelashes. He was beautiful, and he was alive. My breath steadied.

It was snow, resting as gently as petals across my face.

There was no blood. But my slinky self would be going through that Gateway again tomorrow. What if it was the mage’s blood coating my face then?

After all, I’d failed to protect Hector.

I squared my shoulders. I was an incubi of the Night Lineage. I’d promised to protect and love Fox and I would . I wouldn’t let him be drawn into the darkness away from me. An incubus never let go of any of his lovers. Magenta, Fox, and Sleipnir were mine just like my pillows. There was no higher love than Pillow Love. Seriously, check the love poems on it. There must be loads.

Magenta shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. “Surely, they can’t be expecting us to carry out their dirty work…?”

Sleipnir shoved himself to his feet, stalking to the edge of the lake. “Valhalla! We’re assassins who kill. We’re not scouts, selling cookies.”

Magenta elegantly rose up, floating after him. “Why would an army scout attempt to sell baked goods?”

Sleipnir pulled her to him by her waist and kissed her forehead. “I’m not even attempting to explain boy scouts and cookies.”

I grinned. “I often get those two mixed up anyway, which is messy.”

Fox drew a smile onto his snowcat with his little finger, then twisted back to us with a smile that was as wide as his creation’s. “ Ta da! Let me introduce you to the Leader of the Abominable Snowcats. Once, there was a whole tribe of them but a couple of years ago, they wouldn’t listen and insisted that they swim the river Thames for charity.” He bit his trembling lip, and I dived across the snow to curl my hand comfortingly around his neck. Wait, had he just conned a snuggle out of me for the fictional deaths of the Snowcats? He rubbed against my cheek, before winking slyly. “It’s okay, it’s all water under the bridge now.”

I batted him away from me, and he laughed.

Should I curse him to have slime fall out of everything that he opened or to have slime fall onto him every time that he opened anything…?

Delicious decisions.

“Hey, is that Willoughby?” Sleipnir asked in a hushed voice that vibrated with awe.

Surprised, I shuffled to the edge of the lake, as Fox crawled behind me.

Then I gave a shocked intake of breath.

In the center of the frozen lake, Willoughby skated with a beauty and magic that shook me. His power was controlled but it still arched out of him in waves. The skates themselves were glittering ice, the same as the points of his blue hair. He looked like an ice sculpture come to life. Flares of branching patterns sparked out in lightning strikes across the lake on each jump and spin.

In the academy, he appeared stilted and formal, as if he was lost. Lysander dragged him from class to class or shoved him into his seat. But here, he was in charge with a grace and ease that any incubi would envy. My eyes widened, as he jumped dramatically, spinning in the air, round and round…

My heart pounded. No one could jump and spin at that speed. He was going to fall.

But he landed and he didn’t fall.

Yep, my dick did a jump of is own at that.

Ten points to both Willoughby and my dick.

“The ice will crack,” Sleipnir’s voice was low; his shoulders were stiff. “Float out there and save his crazy ass.”

Magenta stared at Willoughby, transfixed. “Such grace and power .” Then she smiled at Sleipnir. “Does he look like he needs our heroic rescue?”

“He looks like he’s standing on ice that cracked the moment I stood on it. How long would even an Ice Prince survive in that freezing water?”

Magenta’s mists curled around Sleipnir. “I sense that we’ve stumbled on one of Willoughby’s princely Rewards. Juni must hold being allowed this time on the ice over him as motivation for good behavior . The ice isn’t cracking because…”

“Ice prefers elves, everybody knows that,” Fox said, then spluttered, as Sleipnir booted snow into his face. “Or the magic of the academy does.”

Before Sleipnir could raise his boot to kick more snow onto Fox ( I’d get my own snowfox ), Magenta wound closer around the disgruntled god.

“You resurrected me: all three of you.” She stroked Sleipnir’s cheek. “There’s no greater connection than that between life and death. Yet there’s also a coldness in my magic, which recognizes the ice in Willoughby’s. Yours is hot. I adore how it warms me.”