Strange Academy (Hot Paranormal Romance) (16 page)

“I’m not apologizing to you. For anything. Ever.”

She fought back her panic. Hot breath on her face. Flaring Roman nostrils. The low growl of his voice. She swallowed a sudden urge to backhand him across the jaw—or to grab him by his shiny hair and force him closer.

“Right.” Don’t twitch, eye. “Why would Lorde Gray apologize to a Non?”

Smoky eyes scanned her face. His lips parted. She stared. In the silence, his breathing seemed loud and heavy. Framed by black lashes, his eyes darkened.

She watched, frozen to the spot, while his hand lifted from the chair arm. A lock of her hair had fallen forward. In slow motion, Gray’s fingers came toward her face as if to tuck the hair behind her ear.

Her senses went live, anticipating the intimate gesture. A gentle touch from a man who might no longer be her enemy. Cool fingers against her sleep-warmed cheek. She sucked in a breath and couldn’t release it.

Suddenly, Gray blinked. He looked at his hand as if it didn’t belong to him. Disbelief widened his eyes. Then he looked down at another part of his anatomy.

She looked, too. A half-bulge poked at the silky fabric of his pajama bottoms.

Drawstring. She could have them off in half a second. A chill passed over her skin.
Out, damn thought
!

As if he could read her mind, Gray practically ran out of the room, toward her bathroom.

She shivered. Despite the modern insulation, Strange Hall’s stone walls could be drafty, she’d noticed. Or maybe it’s the lack of a big, masculine heat source a couple of inches away? She hugged her arms around her kimono.

Gray had gotten hard for her? Did he feel the chemistry between them like she did? The thought warmed her. And scared her a little.
No
. It couldn’t be. He’d just woken up. A normal male condition.

A condition he hadn’t had earlier.

And what, exactly, was he doing in there? Was he relieving himself or
relieving
himself?

When he returned a few minutes later, she rose from her chair. It was the only way she could keep her attention above his waist. Okay, so it slipped a little and she noticed there was a little less Gray down there—but still more than usual. She nearly giggled, picturing Lorde Gray pacing and thinking about baseball in her bathroom.

He made a beeline for the door to the hall.

“Wait,” she said.

He turned to her, a muscle twitching in his cheek, as if he was fighting for control. Lines furrowed his forehead.

She crossed the room to where he stood by the door.

“What did I drink?”

“Lykoktonon,” he snapped.

Sadie narrowed her eyes.

“In case you came into contact with Regina’s saliva. Lykoktonon, if administered efficiently, counteracts the effects of the lycanthropone.” He delivered this speech like he was lecturing from a podium.

“Uhm? Lycanthropone?”

“The researchers have isolated the werewolf hormone.”

“You have researchers?” Her brain spun. “There’s so much I don’t understand.” Her voice cracked with regret as she remembered the sister and aunt she didn’t understand, either.

“You did okay—” Gray stopped. “I mean, you don’t understand anything. You should leave.”

She looked at the pyramid of unpacked boxes in the corner of the room. Leaving would betray Pippa’s faith. Never again.

Besides, how could she resist the chance to observe superheroes in their natural habitat?

For a second, she let her doubts play out. She would never be a part of this world. What would happen if she left? They’d find a witch and she’d be the one to put her books on Pippa’s empty shelves. And she’d go back to her ordinary life. It just seemed so unimportant, compared with these people’s mission to protect the world.

Gray opened the door. Thalia the Muse seemed to glow in the darkness, a white marble shadow behind the dark man. “Sadie?”

She tried not to stare at his lips. It didn’t work. They were inches away. His warm cinnamon scent reached out to her. Breathing sounds filled the room. His head was tilted a little to her left. For some reason, she tilted hers to the right.

“Yes?” she said, realizing their mouths were aligned. All he had to do was lean down...

He leaned down.

Her stomach tightened. She tilted her face closer...

His lips moved. His voice was a whisper. “Don’t slap any more students or I’ll report you to Cross.”

She watched him stride away.
Any faster,
she thought,
and he’d be running.

Chapter Eleven

Gray stared down the demon, listening to the low growl in its armored belly. A steady challenge glowed in its red eye. The other blinked a sickening green. Silently, the hideous beast waited for his next move.

He’d thrown all he had at the demon. Nothing had worked. Soon, he’d be out of options. He stepped back and searched the pale monstrosity for a sign of weakness. Even his trained eye found no chink in its defense.

He placed his hands on it, cringing at the unnatural pebbled texture beneath his palms, as he braced himself and aimed a kick at what he thought might be a vulnerable spot between its legs.

“What the crap do you think you’re doing?”

The surprise of seeing Sadie, framed in the doorway of the teachers’ lounge, a stack of books in her arms, stalled his kick. A little tendril of coffee-colored hair had escaped her hairclip and was sticking to her cheek.

“I’m giving this demon what it deserves.”

Her eyes went wide in horror. The books crashed out of her arms onto the teachers’ lounge floor. She shoved—shoved!—him out of the way and plastered herself across the demon. Dark eyes flashed fire at him. “Don’t talk to Mr. Copier that way!”

“Mr. Copier can go to—”

“Shut up!” She turned to the machine. “The mean man didn’t mean it, Mr. Copier.” She ran her fingers over its sickly white surface. Lucky damn copier.

Something on the back of her legs caught his eye, and his mouth went dry. She wore those pantyhose with the seam up the back, like a movie star from a black-and-white film. His eyes followed the twin black lines from her brown high heels up the back of her curvy calves to where they disappeared under the her tight tweed skirt. Did they go all the way up?

She twisted back to face him, then looked down. So did Gray. An inch of her skirt was pinched between his fingers.
How had that happened?
he wondered.

He dropped it. She cleared her throat.

“Gray, this takes a gentle hand. You have to respect your copier. You have to love your copier.”

“I’m not going to love the photocopier.” He needed thirteen copies of the eleventh grade alchemy test. Twelve stapled quizzes sat on the wooden table behind him. He’d been here thirty-seven minutes. His hatred burned like an acid fire in his belly.

“Tell me what the problem is, Mr. Copier.” She ran a short fingernail over the black buttons on the panel. “A-1. Do you know what A-1 means, Gray?” She spoke to him like he was a child. A dumb one.

His teeth ground. “I don’t speak
Photocopier
.”

She rolled her chocolate-brown eyes as she walked past the chairs sitting empty at the meeting table to a stack of blue bricks under the window. He got another view of her heart-shaped rear as she bent over to pick one up. She sauntered back, carrying one. With a little smirk, she opened a metal drawer in the machine, ripped the packaging off the blue brick and dumped the new stack of paper into the empty space.

The foul beast’s eyes turned green. It spit out his last copy. He clenched his teeth to keep from grinding the enamel.

“Maybe I’m a superhero after all.” Sadie flexed a little bicep. “Paper-Toner Woman, helping the helpless in offices around the world. No, I’d look terrible in spandex. You shouldn’t take out your stress on poor Mr. Copier, Gray.” She patted his shoulder. “You really need to get laid.”

Too much. A sleepless night filled with chocolate-brown eyes and his body’s treacherous needs wiped away his resolve. The last restraint snapped.

He caught her between his arm and his chest and easily lifted her onto the glass of the photocopier. Taking advantage of her surprise, he stepped between her knees. Wide-eyed, her lips in a shocked pink oh, she gripped the shoulders of his sports jacket for support.

“Volunteering?” He leaned in. Her eyes got wider, her lips rounder, and her fingers dug into his shoulders. Her dark gaze scanned his face, then stopped on his mouth.

“Gray.” Her breathy plea sucked the air out of the room. Her hands moved up his collar. Insistent fingers in his hair tugged him down to her.

Her pink tongue moistened, then hid behind, beckoning lips. Their mouths met with a soft wet heat.

He gently bit her full lower lip, and she opened to him. Her whole body responded, quivering madly against his chest. She tasted like sweet mint, as if she’d been chewing gum.

“Your body remembers me,” he said, nibbling her lips.

He felt her lips turn down, telling him she didn’t understand. He willed her to remember their forgotten kiss. “Remember.”

There was a flash of warm light as he slid one hand up the seam on the back of her pantyhose. Sadie moaned into his mouth. He slipped his hand between her thigh and her skirt, caressing firm flesh.

Click
. What? The door. The knob was twisting. Panicked, he broke the kiss. Damn, what had he been thinking? Sadie. A Non. In public. Damn. If he didn’t think fast, his family was about to be humiliated.

The door inched open.

Time. No time. He grabbed a vial from his inside coat pocket and sprinkled the contents on himself.

“Gray? You just disappeared.” Her eyes went wide.

The door opened and a light-haired man backed in, his arms full of papers and books.

Gray tugged his now-invisible jacket out of Sadie’s fingers. She inhaled sharply, nodding as if she understood.

He tried to make no noise as he stepped toward the door. Some of his fellow Metas had enhanced senses and the slightest slip could cost him. I’ll never be this stupid again, he vowed.

“Uh, Sadie?” The man at the door turned. Gray’s gut dropped like it had gone bungee jumping without him. Damn. Cross.

His thoughts churned. How had Cross known he was there the day Sadie had found out? Had Cross seen his footprints? Had snow on his lapel betrayed him? Or could Cross see him? What was the principal’s Talent?

Cross looked straight at him. Gray held his breath.

“Dr. Cross,” Sadie said.

Cross dumped his stack of papers and leaned casually on the meeting table. “It’s Christian, remember?”

“Right. Christian.” Sadie smoothed her skirt.

“Is everything all right, Sadie? I’m asking this because you’re sitting on the photocopier.”

Gray relaxed. Cross hadn’t seen him.

Sadie slipped off Mr. Copier. “Everything’s not okay.”

Cross pulled out one of the old wooden chairs for her, like a real gentleman. Sadie took the seat and Cross sat opposite, watching her, giving Gray a perfect opportunity to slip out.

He stayed put.

“Well, what’s the disaster today? Poison?” Cross asked casually. “No, wait, this is Thursday. Thursday is arson, isn’t it? Need me to order you another desk? Such interesting things have happened since you came.”

“It’s time for me to leave.”

His throat went dry. Leave? She couldn’t leave.

“It’s what Gr—“ She hesitated. “It’s what everyone wants. Everyone has been right all along. I don’t belong here.”

Gray swallowed. Right, he remembered. He wanted her to go.

“Your speech isn’t very convincing, Sadie.”

Her gaze darted, just for an instant, to the copier, and he felt like punching something. Trying to intimidate her hadn’t convinced her to go. But being attracted to him made her run the other way. Not great for a guy’s ego.

“I can’t teach. I don’t fit in. It’s not fair to the kids. I’m sorry.” She stood. “I have to break my contract.”

“Well, enjoy your vacation.” The odd tone of Cross’s voice made Gray’s stress knot flare.

“I’m not going on vacation,” she said cautiously.

“Do you know what you did this fall, Sadie?” Cross’s chair squeaked as he leaned back in it.

“I came here. I found out Aunt Pippa wasn’t murdered.”

Cross cocked his head at her. “Murdered?”

“But she wasn’t. Now I know.” She gave him the
Reader’s Digest
version of her recent thought processes.

“Murdered. No.” Cross made a little scoffing sound. “Grief-stricken from your aunt’s death, you ran off to Cancun. You took a lover. After a month, you came to your senses and returned to your life.”

Sadie blinked at Cross, who continued, “They were going to make him dump you, but I insisted it be the other way around.”

“No, I didn’t, Christian.” As she sank down into the chair, Sadie’s eyelid trembled. So did her voice.

“But it’s what you’ll remember. It’s the memory our team of psychics created for you in case you decided to leave the school. Very pleasant. I mean, if you like the dark-haired type.” Cross sounded slightly miffed. “And look at all the money you’ll save on airfare.”

Sadie’s fingernails dug into the wooden armrests. “I won’t remember anything? Anyone? Carmina?”

“Just cross the magic circle protecting Strange Academy, and it’ll all go away. But wait a few days so I can have the psychics add that you don’t believe Pippa was murdered. So you won’t end up back here investigating your aunt’s death again.”

“This is...Why? Tell me why.” Her halting speech was out of character. This conversation was painful to watch, giving Gray a bitter taste in his mouth. She was seeing the truth here, the reality of the new world she was in. It wasn’t all primary-colored battles of good versus evil, where evil always ended up sprawled on the ground and good’s cape flew dramatically in the wind.

“You weren’t the only one to get a letter from Pippa,” Cross told her. “Mine contained the suggestion that we bring you here. I took it to the board of directors. There was some concern.”

“Because I’m a Non.” Her throat worked as she swallowed. “But my family—”