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Her face warmed. Are you texting and driving?
Never.
Her smile grew too wide to contain. Liar, she typed. She was just about to hit SEND when a wooden ruler thwacked against the table.
She jumped out of her skin, the legs of her chair squealing across the floor. Dallas jolted as well, as if she had fallen asleep. Loren wouldn’t be surprised; the witch was always tired these days.
“Miss Calla!” Professor Griffith barked.
Loren shut off the screen, dropped her phone on her lap, and looked up at the professor. “Yes?”
The professor was glaring down at her with a look that could cut through stone. “This is the third time in two days that I’ve caught you texting in my class. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
Every student in the room, regardless of where they were sitting, managed to turn and stare at her. Until Darien had come along, she’d had no problem leaving her phone untouched for hours at a time. How quickly things had changed. But she figured it was to be expected when you were dating a hot-as-sin bounty hunter—especially one who’d pinned her to the wall of the shower before leaving Hell’s Gate last night and fucked her breathless. She’d had a really good sleep after that.
Loren straightened her spine. “Umm.” Words escaped her, and her phone was still buzzing on the lap of her skirt, making it impossible to think of an answer as her mind drifted to the new messages flashing across her screen. Was Darien saying more about her ass and how perfect he thought it was? Was he telling her all the filthy details about what he planned to do to her later? Maybe it involved the shower again and him standing dripping-wet before her—
Loren forced the sinfully delicious image out of her mind. “I’m sorry?” she tried.
Dallas snorted a laugh.
Professor Griffith’s attention snapped to the witch, whose smile immediately faded. “I fail to see what’s so funny, Miss Bright. If you continue to use enchanted stationary in my class, your chances of passing won’t look any better than Miss Calla’s.”
The blood drained from Dallas’s face. The last time Loren had seen the witch so pale was when Darien had brought them to the maze of abandoned warehouses and butcheries that made up the Umbra Forum, where they’d nearly been made into a meal.
That was one memory she could do without.
Flicking the mute button on the side of her phone before the professor could catch her, Loren jumped to Dallas’s rescue. “I really am sorry, Professor. I swear it won’t happen again.”
Professor Griffith arched a slender brow. “It better not.” She pointed her ruler at Loren’s half-hidden cell phone. “If I see you with that phone in your hand one more time, I will take it away. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Professor Griffith.”
Magenta-painted lips formed a tight line. “You get one more chance, Miss Calla. After that, I won’t be so forgiving.” She rapped the table with the ruler again and then pointed it at Dallas, who visibly recoiled in her seat. “You too, Miss Bright. If you fail my class, I’ll make sure not even the Red Baron will be able to bail you out.” She strutted back to the front of the room to resume her lesson.
Loren didn’t dare grab her phone for the rest of the class. She kept her arms crossed, resisting the urge to even glance at the screen that kept lighting up with incoming messages from Darien. Those last few minutes took forever to pass, but the bells above the academy finally chimed, the tuneless clanging filling the stone hallways and drifting through the open classroom door.
Dallas was one of the first students to stand, her books already stacked and in her arms. Loren pushed to her feet and hurried to gather up her own things, Sabrine doing the same beside her. Sab was the only person in the room who looked more disappointed than relieved that class was over. While the students of AA were always excited to practice magic, classes such as history tended not to be a favorite.
“Really?” Loren said to Dallas as they wove their way around tables and chairs. Ethan and his friends were wise to keep their distance, though Loren could feel them watching. “Enchanted stationary?” She had never heard of such a thing, but in a world of magic, there were few limits to what could be invented.
Dallas glanced over her shoulder, a smile playing on her lips—painted red with a glamour instead of makeup, as usual. Loren resisted the urge to give her hell for it. “My hand cramps up if I write for too long,” Dallas said. “I got Maximus to grab some from the Umbra Forum. It does the writing and the listening for me.” The fact that Dallas had to send a Darkslayer to one of the most dangerous places in the city to find the paper told Loren all she needed to know about it.
Sabrine gave Dallas a look of horror. “That sounds like a one-way ticket to a big fat F, Dal.”
Dallas waved the conversation away. “Enough. I’m starving. Let’s get to the dining hall before everyone beats us there.”
“Actually,” Loren piped up as they neared the door, “I’m spending lunch with Darien today.” The students ahead of them shuffled out of the classroom, giving them a clear path into the hallway. “I’ll see you guys next period.”
Dallas threw her free hand in the air. “Again?”
But Loren was already halfway down the hallway, squishing through clusters of werewolves, vampires, and veneficae. “I forgot my medication, so he’s bringing it to me!”
“You mean this medication?” Dallas called.
Loren turned to see Dallas making a crude gesture with her tongue and fist.
Her face turned beet-red. “Dallas!” she hissed.
