Reading, Writing and Necromancy Read online

  Khaba slapped Derrick on the back. “So, let’s get down to business. I understand you have a favor to ask me.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You do realize anything you want me to perform with djinn magic requires you rub my lamp first.”

  “Right,” Derrick said. “Hasn’t your lamp been rubbed enough for the evening?”

  Khaba grinned. The smoke grew denser, obscuring Josie’s furnishings and the textiles on the walls. Warm swirls tickled around my ankles. Josie coughed and waved the smoke away from her face.

  I could barely see myself in the haze, let alone anyone else.

  “Um,” I said, waving a hand at the smoke with growing concern. “Is something on fire?”

  “No, it’s my magic,” Khaba said. “Men aren’t allowed in the women’s dormitories. I thought it best to grant Derrick’s first wish in the privacy of my office.”

  The smoke slowly dissipated. Derrick no longer leaned against a bedpost. He lounged against a file cabinet. He stepped back in surprise. I sat in a chair before Khaba’s desk.

  Josie lay sprawled across his desk. “Ow,” she said, wiggling away from a tray of papers and sliding off.

  Khaba opened a drawer in the file cabinet. “All electronics go in this drawer.” He arched an eyebrow at me.

  How did he know? It was so unfair!

  “Those aren’t mine.” At least, they weren’t anymore. I emptied my pockets into the shadowy abyss. The phones didn’t make any noise as they dropped down. “We confiscated those from students earlier.” I peered into the void, trying to see the bottom.

  “Careful.” Khaba placed a hand on my shoulder. “A student once fell in that drawer trying to retrieve his iPod. He never came out.”

  I straightened.

  He nodded to my other sweater pocket. “Tell me those are wands in your pocket. Because if not, there are some things I don’t know about you—including how happy you are to see me.”

  He opened another drawer. This one didn’t look like a bottomless pit. There were wands, half-eaten bags of candy, a knife, a dildo, one box of cigarettes, and two bongs. I suspected those were all the nonelectronic items he’d confiscated from students.

  I set two of the wands inside. I kept the third one. “Do you want to know who the students were?”

  He glanced in. “No need to. I know those wands: Ben O’Sullivan and—hmm, that’s odd. Sherice Stevens?”

  “Sherice wasn’t with them,” Derrick said. “Dwayne Evans and Balthasar Llewellyn were. One of them probably stole it from her.”

  Khaba appraised Derrick with respect in his eyes. “I see you aren’t a complete waste, even without your invisibility.”

  I had inwardly grumbled about finding students, but now I wondered if it had been a blessing in disguise. If Khaba saw Derrick as valuable, he might not need to fire him. “That’s right. Derrick used his magic to collect the wands and cell phones. We caught students in one of the secret passages. He makes a great security guard.”

  Khaba grimaced.

  I went on. “Think of how great he’d be with an invisibility cloak, or hoodie or whatever it is my students were wearing last semester when we thought they were trying to steal answer keys. He could still be a valuable asset to the school. You should have seen him tonight … busting students.” I faltered, seeing the way Khaba was giving me that look. His dean-of-discipline look.

  “Let’s just drop this topic before I ask what you were doing in a secret passage, Miss Lawrence,” Khaba said.

  Oh. Me and my big mouth.

  “It’s all right. I was keeping her out of trouble.” Derrick playfully nudged me with his shoulder. “Like I always do.”

  “Enough chit-chat.” Khaba removed his vest and turned so that we could see where the tattooed lamp on his flesh had migrated. He sat in his cushy chair behind his desk. “The sooner you rub my lamp, the sooner I can grant your wish.”

  What a relief the lamp was between his shoulders rather than somewhere risqué.

  Derrick massaged Khaba’s shoulders without complaint. Khaba raised his eyebrows at me. “You get back here too. You and Inv—Derrick have the same wish.”

  “I can help,” Josie said.

  “I only have enough time for this wish. Your wishes would take far too long.”

  She giggled. “My wishes would take all night.”

  “My point exactly.” He smirked. “Plus, it helps if you know your wish and keep it in mind as you rub the lamp. I doubt you would be able to think of anything other than my hot body.”

  “I could! Come on, I want to help. You never let me rub your lamp.”

  Khaba kicked his feet up on the desk. “You can rub my feet if you want.”

  I stood next to Derrick, massaging Khaba’s right shoulder. I wondered how this magic was any different than my affinity. The magic of the Lost Red Court worked through the human body, usually with touch, but not always through sexuality like a siren’s or a green man’s. Thatch had said Red affinities used electrical impulses, which is why we weren’t weakened by electronics. If I was touching someone, I could increase another Witchkin’s magic, like I had with Miss Periwinkle and Maddy. Like I had with Derrick in the past. Theoretically that meant I should be able to increase Khaba’s abilities to detect whether Derrick’s memories had been tampered with and what might be the truth.

  Physical contact alone wouldn’t activate my powers. The touch had to be pleasant for me. I didn’t know if I could use my magic without drawing attention to myself. I didn’t want to endanger myself like I had with Julian by revealing what I was to a Fae—even if Khaba was my friend.

  I glanced at Derrick. He looked up from kneading Khaba’s muscles. “Should we switch sides? You know, to make things even?”

  “Good idea,” I said.

  As he scooted around me I took that opportunity to lean against him. I pressed my lower back against his crotch. He arched himself away from me. His tight pants became a whole lot tighter. He shook his head at me, looking like he was trying hard not to laugh.

  Two seconds of grinding was not enough to make magic happen.

  As we massaged Khaba, I leaned closer to Derrick. I crossed my arm over his. He bumped me with his hip.

  “Are you concentrating on your wish?” Khaba asked.

  “Yes,” Derrick said.

  I refocused my attention on wanting him to help Derrick remember.

  Khaba nudged Josie with one of his bare feet.

  She blinked her eyes open. “Yes,” she said.

  “Think about their wish. Not yours.”

  I stared into Derrick’s eyes. He smiled. A flutter of energy uncoiled inside me. Red light twitched in my core. Khaba took in a sharp breath.

  I shifted my hip so that it touched Derrick and repositioned my foot so that his feet sandwiched it. The contact of his body against mine sent little thrills through me. A mischievous smile curled his lips upward. He dipped his head lower, his mouth inching toward mine.

  I glanced at Josie. Her eyes were closed.

  I placed my hand over Derrick’s. His lips brushed against mine. Pleasure swelled in my chest, flashing through my nerves and tingling out of my hands.

  “Son of a succubus!” Khaba bucked in his chair like an electric jolt had gone through him. He kicked Josie, knocking her out of her seat. His chair pushed back with enough force to roll over my feet.

  He fell onto the floor ungracefully. “What did you just do?”

  I stumbled away from Derrick, into the wall. Derrick tripped into the filing cabinet. Khaba’s cheeks were flushed, and he was breathless when he lifted himself from the floor. Josie replaced her glasses on her face.

  “Um, sorry,” I said. “Did I do something … bad?” I hoped I hadn’t drained him. Or burned him. He was my friend. I was afraid I had done something horrible to him.

  Khaba fanned himself. “I haven’t felt magic like that since … huh.” He looked me up and down. “Your magic is like your mot
her’s.”

  Alouette Loraline had been powerful. Did that mean I was powerful? As much as I wanted to be a respected witch, every time I did something that reminded people of my biological mother, I suspected it drove me closer to the dark side.

  I bit my lip. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

  He smirked. “Hardly.”

  “Where’s the lamp now?” Josie asked.

  Khaba glanced over his shoulder and waggled his eyebrows at us. “Looks like it migrated south for the rest of the evening. No worries. I’ve been rubbed enough for the day to satisfy the requirements of my magic.”

  Khaba gestured for Derrick to take a seat. “Let’s get this party started.”

  Derrick sat down, the back of his pants splitting with a loud tear. So much for returning those pants to Thatch without him noticing.

  “How about for your first wish I fetch you a pair of pants?” Khaba asked. “That doesn’t even require any magic.”

  Khaba’s memory magic was in between the dream magic I’d discovered I could do and Thatch’s torture chair to draw out fears. After Derrick had stated his wish out loud, he sat in a chair across from Khaba, eyes closed, hands on the armrests. The hot-pink pants Khaba had brought him looked like capris on Derrick’s long legs, but at least he could sit comfortably enough to meditate.

  “Sink into the memory,” Khaba said. “Imagine yourself there again.”

  Derrick’s brow crinkled. Khaba leaned toward the crystal ball on his desk. It flashed yellow and white.

  Josie and I had somehow managed to squeeze both our butts onto the other chair in Khaba’s office. We both were petite, but not small enough for this to be comfortable. I leaned forward to see, accidentally jostling Josie. Khaba lifted the ball and squinted. He set it down again.

  The ball on Khaba’s desk started off the size of an apple, but as Khaba waved his hand over it, the orb grew to the size of a beach ball. White light flashed within and it clouded over. The sphere expanded further. I leaned back now.

  The image within was warped, but I could see Derrick chained to the walls of a dungeon. It didn’t look that different from the school dungeon where Thatch chained students as part of their detentions.

  I was so fixated on Derrick’s image, I didn’t realize the crystal ball had expanded again. The barrier of glass passed through me, containing all of us. I was inside the sphere and inside the memory. Derrick was no longer seated beside me. He was a participant in his memory.

  Khaba walked around to where Josie and I sat off to the side. “We are here as observers. Don’t touch anything. Don’t say anything. As long as you remain still, you won’t interfere with his memories.”

  We watched Derrick struggle against manacles holding him against the grimy stone. He was dirty and shirtless, cuts and burns etched into his skin. His blue hair was shorter than it was now, closely cropped to his skull, reminding me of a military haircut.

  Footsteps echoed down a set of stairs. Will-o’-the-wisps floated along the ceiling, bumping into each other and careening into walls.

  Derrick yanked at the manacles, the metal jangling. His eyes went wide with terror. He pulled on the metal so hard it cut into his wrists and tore at his skin. Fear radiated from him like a perfume, settling onto my skin. My heart raced alongside his.

  Something bad was coming. I wanted to tell Derrick it was okay. I wanted him to understand this was the past, and it wasn’t real anymore.

  The Raven Queen glided down the stairs and over the floor. Light caught on the sheen of black feathers that made up her dress and hair. Her black crown reminded me of an oil slick, a dark rainbow made of jagged points. Her eyes were all black like a bird’s. She tilted her head at Derrick, studying him with disinterest.

  Lurking in the shadows behind her stood Felix Thatch.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The Raven Queen’s Servant

  “Mr. Thatch! Help me, please!” Derrick’s voice came out a rough rasp. He sounded thirsty.

  “You know my prisoner?” the Raven Queen asked. Her voice was deep and sultry, the purr of a tiger before it strikes. A hint of a French accent laced her words.

  “He was one of my students.” Thatch glanced over at Derrick. “Briefly.”

  Thatch stood beside the Raven Queen, his gaze raking over trickles of water dripping down the walls and then Derrick with the same disinterest. His expression was like her own, cool and cunning. From his gleaming midnight hair to his pale complexion and lean build, he looked like he could be one of the Fae of the Raven Court. The thought sent icicles down my spine.

  “It has come to my attention this Witchkin knows Clarissa Lawrence, daughter of Alouette Loraline. Perhaps I should remove his entrails and leave him somewhere for her to find with a little note that says, ‘This is what you get for refusing my offer.’”

  Thatch said nothing.

  “Please, Mr. Thatch.” Tears ran down Derrick’s grimy cheeks. “Please don’t let her kill me.”

  The Raven Queen lifted Derrick’s chin to look into his eyes. “Kill you? I didn’t say anything about killing you.” She leaned her head back in a throaty chuckle. “Removing your entrails is painful, but it won’t kill you. It’s the blood loss that kills you. That takes hours. Or the infections. That could take days.”

  Derrick looked to Thatch in desperation.

  “He isn’t going to save you, mon cher.” She raked a talon-tipped finger against his jaw. Droplets of crimson formed under his chin. “Look into my eyes.”

  Derrick turned away.

  “Think of her. Remember a fond memory,” she said with uncharacteristic tenderness.

  “No. I won’t let you do this to me.”

  “Think of what her skin feels like against yours. Remember how soft her hair was against your face. How she smelled.”

  Derrick squeezed his eyes closed and tried to twist away. She sandwiched his face between her palms, keeping his head still. Her lips parted, and she inhaled. As she did so, his breath was sucked out of him. In the gap between their faces, tiny particles glowed as they left him. He shook uncontrollably. He gasped and choked.

  I’d seen this before. I knew what someone looked like when they were being drained. She stepped back, licking her lips in pleasure. Derrick sagged limply in the manacles. His eyes were dark and bruised.

  She leaned in again.

  “I beg your pardon,” Thatch said, each word slowly enunciated. “Have you considered how leaving this one for dead will fail to serve your true agenda?”

  The Raven Queen idly ran a finger down Derrick’s chest. She drew a little x over his heart. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Derrick Winslow is acquainted with Clarissa Lawrence. He gained her trust and would easily be able to do so again. Rather than use him as a message, you could instead use him as a messenger.”

  She drew away from Derrick. “You have my attention.”

  “Let him go. Allow him to go to her on his own.”

  I wanted to believe this was Thatch’s way of plotting to protect Derrick, but if it was, why hadn’t he told me about any of this? He’d kept Derrick a secret from me, hadn’t revealed the nature of his curse, and told me the Raven Queen would use him to get to me. He’d never told me he had rescued Derrick. I watched in silence as Khaba had advised, a million questions in my mind as I did so.

  “What good will it do me to release him?” the Raven Queen asked.

  “If you plant the right seeds in his head, he will bring her to you. He will convince her of your true intentions to … help her.” Thatch placed his hand on his heart as though he spoke with complete sincerity, though his tone held a nuance of mockery. “Rather than drive Miss Lawrence further away by showing what you intend to do with her friends and family, show her the wonders of your magic. Show her your mercy. Convince Derrick why she needs you. He, in turn, will convince her. Having her trust already, he will do a far better job of it than I will be able to do.”


  “Hmm,” she said. She ran her hands over Derrick’s shorn hair.

  “You have given him the stick. Now give him the carrot.” Thatch waved his hand at Derrick. “You are the Queen of Pain and Pleasure.”

  She gave Thatch a disapproving smile, as though he were a naughty child she couldn’t help finding amusing. “You’ve grown far too soft at that school. I think you like this one.”

  “I’m impartial to all things, save my queen.” Thatch bowed. “And what I may do to serve your agenda.”

  “I will give him pleasure. I shall gift him with so much indulgence and gratification it will hurt.” She laughed. “But first, I want to see you use your magic. Entertain me. You know what I like.”

  Thatch bowed his head. “As you wish, my queen.”

  He withdrew his wand.

  Anxiety rose in me. I didn’t know if it was my own or Derrick’s I was feeling. I didn’t want Thatch to be a bad person. Surely he must have been pretending he would hurt Derrick so that he could help him escape.

  He stepped forward, walking back and forth in front of Derrick, looking him up and down. A smile twitched his lips. Slowly he lifted his wand and raised it to Derrick’s arm. He slashed it into his flesh like a knife, opening a wound deep enough that it exposed the muscle. Derrick cried out.

  My stomach flip-flopped at the sight of it.

  Derrick’s eyes went wide. He tried to pull away, but the moment he straightened his legs, his knees went weak again. I didn’t want Derrick to have to relive this horrible moment. I would have done anything to save him from this torment.

  I reached out, wanting to reassure him, but I couldn’t see my hand. I was invisible in his memory, a ghost of the future. I fumbled for his hand, giving it a squeeze to let him know I was there for him, even if neither of us could see me.

  I felt the pain rushing up his arm. I gasped at the suddenness of sensation in my own arm. Lightning flared into my veins from where the wand jabbed me—him.

  My brain was confused. I felt light-headed and foggy. Or was that the room that was foggy? I felt as though I was falling into a jumble of images and sensations. Feathers brushed against my skin, the caress unexpectedly pleasant. Lips nibbled my neck, but I didn’t know whom they belonged to. Nor did I care. I sank deeper into contentment. Black magic glittered before my eyes, dazzling me, lulling me into a trance. In my ears a thousand pleasant songs played at once, overwhelming my senses. There were words in that song, a suggestion I could almost hear. They tasted like blood and promises.