Granted, I might’ve brought that on myself with my cleavage shot earlier, but still. This isn’t about my flirty little games. Whatever Baz wants everyone else to think, deep down he’s drowning in darkness.
My heart clenches. They say the bad boys are the most alluring. That we just can’t help but be drawn in, because we always want to fix them.
I get it, really. I nursed Jessa through a pretty rough bad-boy phase last year that damn near shattered her heartandher savings account.
But in my case? It’s a hundred times worse.
Whatever the source of my empathic gifts, it’s in my verynatureto want to fix Baz—some innate part of me that I can’t control or dim. Just like it’s in my nature to make people their perfect cup of tea and to invite Carly and the Claires to sit with us at dinner last night despite their obvious attitudes. Even now, I feel the tiniest bit guilty about trying to piss Carly off a few minutes ago, all because I know that bitchface of hers is mostly for show.
The difference is, other than Kirin, I’ve never been attracted to my Kettle Black customers. And Carly and the Claires aren’t my type either.
But Baz?
That boy is hard to ignore, and he fucking knows it, too.
He holds my gaze, his smoldering intensity cutting right to the bone. And to other parts. Suddenly I want to kiss that stupid half-smirk right off his face, to make him ache for me, to hear him moan my name as I ride him into the sunset.
As if he can read my thoughts, he lifts his eyebrows, then smiles.
A trickle of sweat runs down between my boobs, and I turn back around and shift uncomfortably in my chair, trying to pretend like I dropped something.
“And how about you, Miss Milan?”
I startle at the sound of my name and whip my head up, my cheeks already flaming under the weight of the collective stare.
“I… I’m sorry,” I stammer. “Could you repeat the question?”
“We’re discussing our elemental gifts, which you would know if you were paying attention to the lecture rather than to Mr. Redgrave. As handsome as he may be, that face will not help you understand your magick or, for that matter, pass my class.”
A snicker rolls through the room, along with a few whoops and catcalls, and I’m just sitting here like a total chump, trying to melt away into my chair.
“Don’t keep us in suspense, Miss Milan,” Professor Maddox pushes.
“I… I’m blessed with all four,” I say, then rush to add, “as far as Miss Trello and Professor Phaines told me.”
“Did you not complete the test?” she asks.
“I did. It could be wrong, though, right?”
“What could be wrong?”
“The test? The vision… thing?”
“I suppose in magick anything is possible. But no, Miss Milan. In the hundreds of years the Academy has been fostering witches and mages, the test-vision-thing, as you’ve so eloquently called it, has never been wrong.” She shakes her head as if to admonish me, but her energy tells a different story. She’s amused, and more than a little curious about me. “What Miss Milan is too modest to say is that she’s one of our rarest magickal students—a spirit-blessed witch. This means she possesses all four elemental affinities and will eventually learn to wield the full spectrum of elemental magick. Definitely someone you want in your corner, even if sheiseasily distracted by charming mages.”
Another collective laugh, and I’m just about ready to set witchfire to my own ass.
Lucky for me the clock strikes ten, and the class abruptly stows their notebooks and tablets, spilling out of the rows toward the exit and letting me off the hook.
“All of you should be signed up for the companion lab!” Maddox shouts above the rush. “Tarot Divination and Spellcraft with Professor Eames! Happy Tarot-ing!”
As Nat and I pass by the podium at the front of the room, I’m half-expecting Professor Maddox to pull me aside and scold me for my lack of attention. But she only raises her eyebrows, her lips curved in a sly smile as if she’s having another one of those conversations in her head.
I offer her an apologetic smile in return, then scoot out of there as fast as I can.
Out in the hall, Nat and I make plans to meet up with Isla for a late lunch, then part ways.
I’ve just made it outside when someone calls my name from behind. I turn around to see the cheerful-looking guy that was sitting with Baz and the others.
