Witch Born - LJ Swallow Page 0,19
attempting to commune with me and shake my head at the humming in my mind. Don’t they understand each incantation in the room today has called to my magic?
Fire is an element I use a lot, and one I’ll miss while I’m here. Yes, the destructive force may help Francesca’s ridiculous spirit-based magic, but she should be careful.
“Take this pain, and peace I’ll regain,” I say and hold my breath, hoping to hell nothing happens as the card ignites.
The white card turns to ash in my fingers, and the small smoke plume drifts upwards in the exact same way as everyone else's.
Thank the stars this hasn’t triggered any magic.
“How do you feel, Eloise?” asks Francesca, eyes shining with excitement. “Better? This exercise soothes the soul, doesn't it?”
No, because I wish the name of the person I wrote on the card is the one in the flames. “Yes. A little.”
Oriana laughs behind her hand and coughs out, “Bullshit.”
I nudge her with an elbow and try to keep a straight face.
Francesca holds her arms out, palms up, and the sun and moon charms on her bracelets jingle. “When I walked into this room today, I sensed such suffocating negativity that it broke my heart. To have this ebb away through a simple spell is marvellous.”
What the hell? I look around in confusion. Nothing feels any different here—at all. I’m strongly empathetic, and if I could use my blocked ability to listen to people’s minds, I bet there’d be no change.
To be honest, that’s one magic block I’m happy about, because I’d rather not hear what thoughts pass through some of these students’ minds.
Yet, if I had the mind-reading ability within these walls, would I be able to see Dorian’s, or does his hybrid state make his barrier to my mental magic stronger?
“Dorian,” purrs Francesca.
He sits up, hands on his knees. “Lucky last, huh?”
Scratching the back of his head, Dorian kneels up by the bowl with a serious look on his face. “I really do appreciate your classes, Francesca,” he says in his velvet tones. “Some days the anger becomes too much, you know?”
He looks around at me and winks.
Does Francesca know Dorian is taking the piss?
“You are very troubled, Dorian,” she says softly. “I’m always happy to help you deal with your struggles.”
He pushes hair from his face. “And I’m always grateful, Francesca.”
“What the hell is this?” I whisper to Oriana.
“Clever bastard claims he needs extra meditation, or counselling with Marcus, to deal with his ‘struggles’. That way he can swap out classes he hates for extra easy-mode lessons.”
“And Francesca falls for that?” I whisper.
“He’s Dorian Blackwood. Most people fall for his bullshit. That’s how he’s powerful.”
Wow.
But I sense something else here. The way Francesca looks at Dorian unnerves me. Not in a sexual way, but as if awed by him. His words to me earlier, that I should reject their food and regain some magic power echoes.
Is Dorian influencing her mind?
“Could I share what I wrote with the class?” he asks softly.
“Well, we don’t usually—” she begins and he tips his head at her. “Very well, if this would help you.”
“Immensely.” His dimpled smile and straight white teeth would be enough to dazzle Francesca without using magic.
With over-exaggerated care, he unfolds his card and clears his throat. “I’m angry because Eloise rejected my friendship.”
His keen eyes meet mine and I want to slap him as he pulls on a hurt expression. I tense as an amused murmur travels the room.
“You mean you tried to fuck her and she said no, right?” sneers Zeke.
“Excuse me, Ezekiel,” interrupts Francesca. “That is inappropriate. We do not use base language in my healing space.”
“No, I mean I tried to help her this morning in Roger’s class. Instead, she landed us both in the shit and we were both punished. That made me angry.” He lowers his eyes. “I know that anger is wrong, and that Eloise is someone to pity, but—”
I clench my jaw as the magic dances in my veins, and the flame close to Dorian burns brighter.
“Pity is a very strong word, Dorian,” says Francesca. “Sympathise, perhaps?”
“I highly doubt Dorian is capable of sympathy,” I retort.
“Everybody holds a light inside them, don’t they, Francesca?” he schmoozes. “I’m here to atone for my past and Eloise’s hostility provokes the bad emotions inside me.”
Omigod. Is she falling for his shit? With each word he uses against me, the higher the flame rises. Dipping his head, he folds the card again and reaches out to hold