Chapter 11

Hour Three: Basic Combat.

The only time a spirit whisperer was required to take a combat class was in their first year. Back in the day, it’d been optional, but now, it was required. I guess the academy had finally realized that pumping their spirit whisperers with all that knowledge and power was a tad useless if they were so easily, like, stabbed by thieves or something.

Oh. Thieves. Talon.

I exhaled sharply and pushed my way through the doors of the Hand and Blade Arena, so-called because hand whisperers and blade whisperers were everything when it came to non-magical combat. Even though both professions were blessed with the powers of their own deities, they relied a lot on physical skill, prowess, and training.

Of course, there wasn’t a human, angel, or otherwise in Europia who could snap a dragon’s neck with their bare hands without being a hand whisperer. Their goddess, Stryke, was a serious bad-bum, fabled to be the one deity in the pantheon willing to stick up to bullies. Supposedly, she’d beat up and bound Mord, the god of murder, pain, and death, about a hundred years prior. Since the gods actual doings were complete mysteries to us mortals, we could only take it as spectacle. But, to be fair, there hadn’t been a single documented murder whisperer—yep, that’s a thing—blessed since then.

“I hate this class,” I said, and Elijah grinned at me, spreading his wings wide in the big open space of the arena. The ‘room’, and I used this term loosely, was about three times the size of my hour one class. It had a glass ceiling that glimmered gently with runes, like the ones on Professor Cross’ glasses, and was enchanted to keep magic both in and out.

For this particular class, we wouldn’t be using magic, but there were spectator sports held her that did. That, and the arena was sort of the last chance barricade in case the walls of the city and the Royal College were breached. Wars could—and had been—won here, such as the one with Scythia.

“There’s not a spirit whisperer in their right mind who doesn’t hate this class,” he drawled, putting an arm around my waist. As soon as he touched me like that, I felt the tiny bee in my belly start to buzz, wings fluttering. “Last few days, you’ve been lucky. The professors in this class get things off to a slow start with lectures and rules and safety tips … bunch of nonsense. Prepare to get your ass kicked.” He tried to pull away from me, but I held tight. Why not? Unless in my hour two class—ghost and spirits—nobody could see him here. May as well take some comfort from that, right?

“I was traumatized by a naked dude’s erect dick popping out from under my jacket this morning,” I whispered, and Eli’s mouth curved into a sexy little smile. I’d even managed to run into Professor flubbing Tiukka between hour one and home to grab a new jacket … and some clothes for my shadow friend.

I now had a slash on my record that Spicer couldn’t expunge: a uniform violation for not wearing my damn jacket. The bitc— bleeding blitz had barely even glanced at my naked friend. Oh, no, his nudity hadn’t even been a factor.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Trubble leaning against the tall stone walls of the room with this beatific expression on his face, like he’d just been dipped in rose dust and was no longer of this world. Seriously?! He looked like the cat who got the cream. Or should I say, the fox who got the body? Whatever.

“In that case,” Eli continued, pulling me along until we stood in the center of the room with the rest of the students, “allow me to soothe those dark memories away with a much better erect cock later.” He licked my ear and made me shiver before grabbing a handful of my right breast and giving it a squeeze. Pleasure exploded through me, and I made this weird … sound that drew the eyes of all my classmates.

What must they be seeing? The fabric around my boob crinkling up?

“I’m going to kick your ass for that later,” I whisper-growled as a feather drifted around my face and I batted it away. I was so not going to admit that I liked what he’d just done.

“Ah, young people,” Professor Cross murmured, like he was somehow put out by us. But the look on his face, that reminded me he’d died at age twenty-five, barely older than I was. My guess … was that in all reality, he was lonely and wanting. Reaching down, I curled my fingers around his and gave them a squeeze. It was just for a second, but a shock of something raced straight through me and into him.

I felt that.

Carefully, Spicer pulled his hand from mine, and stared at his fingers, but if I’d given him some sort of prophecy or vision, he didn’t acknowledge it.

The professors of this class—a married pair of men, one of whom was a hand whisperer and the other, a blade whisperer—organized the class into groups based on purported skill level. It wasn’t worth mentioning that I was placed in level zero, for this with little talent, skill, or physical strength. Part of me almost blurted out the story of the Mrs. and Mr. Grandberg, but then I realized how stupid I would feel if I was then moved into level three or something.

I made myself feel better by making note that Felixa was also in level zero.

“You started here, too, right?” I asked Eli and he gave me this loose, lazy shrug that I liked far too much for my own good. “Okay, I’ll take that as a no then, so what level did you start in?” I plant my hands on my hips and let my gaze drift down the clusters of students, milling around in their uniforms and generally looking confused.

Wouldn’t take a genius to recognize that this entire class is made up of first-year students.

“Level two,” Eli said with yet another sinful little smirk. But now I was having trouble looking past him because one of the professors—the blade whisperer with the pale blonde hair—was yelling at Trubble to get his butt over to the rest of the class.

Ah, crap.

Nervously, I watched as Trubble sauntered up, spoke briefly with the professors … and then took up a spot in the highest ranked group, level six.

Great, this should be fun.

I tried to soothe myself with thoughts of Vexer and dinner, but even those were slightly tainted by the fact that I had to tell him about my little lap dance with Trubble. That, and I was going to ask if tonight could be the night we looked for the razor wolf pack. Flying over the mountains shouldn’t be that hard—or that dangerous—especially if we went together.

And once we had at least a rough idea of where they were, then we could make plans to rescue poor Talon of Venin.

My throat got tight, and involuntarily, my hands clenched into fists. Not only did he give up his spirit to protect me, but Dyre gave up his life. I had to remember that. Even more reasons to get this stupid spell to work. Yes, these classes had been kicking my ass lately, but that was no excuse.

Once a night.

I needed to practice it once every single night, at least.

Air was missing out on his first year at the academy; Eli never got to graduate; Dyre’s kingdom was cloaked in shadows.

Shaking out my hands, I glanced over to find Jas clinging to my arm, digging her nails into my skin.

“They’re calling you, Brynn,” she ground out, and I snapped my attention to the front of the class where Trubble was waiting.

“Oh for dung’s sake,” I snarled, letting the teacher pair with me a student who was in no way supposed to be in the class with us. We stared each other down before he gave me a toothy smile and then flicked his fluffy tails out to tickle my chin. I batted them away and narrowed my eyes. “You realize you just tickled me with what’s essentially—according to you—your penis. You just tickled my chin with a bunch of penises.”

Trubble grinned at me and stepped close, close enough that Elijah stiffened up on my right side.

“That’s true,” the shadow hedged, his bronze eyes raking over my body and making me shiver. “So pay me back, tickle me with your wings which are, essentially and according to you, your vaginas. So tickle me with a bunch of vaginas”

“I didn’t say they were vaginas,” I snapped back, pushing beautiful white hair over one shoulder. “I said they were like boobs.”

“Tickle me with your boobs then?” Trubble purred, ears twitching his dark hair. “I’d love it. In fact, I might come in my pants all over again if you did.” My cheeks heated up as one of the student assistants passed by and put a wooden sword in my hands.

They gave another to Trubble.

Ah, shit.

“Let me help you,” Eli whispered in my ear, flicking his sapphire eyes up to Trubble and smirking. “Let me inside of you.” My breath exploded in a rush as Trubble—who as far as I knew, had only ever been in this form a handful of days in his whole life—spun the wooden sword in a circle like he was a gods-damned expert. Feather, pop.

“Cursed spirits, Eli, you’re not any better at this stuff than I am.” He gave me this confident easy smile, the one that’d drawn me to him in the first place. I still wasn’t sure where we were at in our relationship, but in my brief moments of sleep last night, I had dreamed of resurrecting him and keeping him as one of my husbands. “Oh, what the Hell?”

Relaxing my guard, I closed my eyes and waited for Elijah to possess me.

I’d never let a ghost do this before, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it now.

But also, I really wanted to kick Trubble’s arrogant—and very gorgeous—bottom.

Eli curled his fingers around my shoulders and put his lips to my ear, creating a warm breath that stirred my hair and made me shiver. He really was a mother-flubbing master of being dead, no doubt about it. But I also desperately wanted to see what he was like when he was alive.

“Just relax and let me in,” he said. “The more you want this, the more you accept this, the closer we’ll be, and the easier I’ll be able to manipulate your body.” His words were so sensual, so overtly sexual that I wasn’t quite sure what to make of them.

So I didn’t even bother to try.

I let my shields down … and felt another presence smash into me. Just before the full force of what was happening hit me, I heard a small voice whisper in my ear. “I’m so sorry,” it said, and then my eyes were snapping open of their own accord and I was racing forward, swinging my blade in an easy circle and spinning to meet Trubble’s raised wooden sword.

The professors hadn’t quite finished explaining today’s exercise, but suddenly, the entire arena was quiet except for the clack of wood on wood. My body spun and twisted, made movements that had my muscles screaming in agony.

But holy shit, I was a total flubbing bad-bum!

And there was no doubt that the spirit taking over my limbs right then was Dyre of Ha, an accomplished blade whisperer if I’d ever seen one. The professors and staff alike gaped at me as I flicked my wings out and smashed Trubble in the face, knocking him back several steps.

“You little shit,” he ground out, blood pouring from his nose as he came at me. Whereas Dyre was working to make his brother hurt, it seemed like Trubble was actually taking care not to hurt me. We spun and danced, like nobles on the royal ballroom floor, our weapons clashing, the wood cracking with the force of our swings. I felt dizzy, disconnected, physically free from my clumsiness and my short stature and my lack of muscle. In that moment, I felt like I could do anything, protect myself from anyone.

The longer and harder I fought, the louder the crowd became, until they were cheering and goading us all on. I wondered how many of the spirit whisperers knew that I was possessed? Or how many of them had ever experienced the strange, weightless fluttering of having a ghost inside of them.

Trubble ducked under a downward slash that Dyre threw all my weight into, the wooden sword cracking and breaking in half against the floor. Instead of rising to my feet—my first instinct—the Vaennish prince threw us forward in a roll, spun, and then cracked his poor brother in the jaw with the hilt of the word.

His twin cried out and dropped his own sword, hot red crimson blood pouring out of his lip and down his face. Dyre must’ve been as surprised as I was because in an instant, he’d fled my body and faded away into the background to keep himself hidden from the other spirit whisperers in the class. I doubted it was his intention to do quite as much damage as he’d done, but holy ship, that was a lot of blood.

“Brynn of Haversey!” the blonde blade whisperer boomed. The fact that he knew my name was a surprise, but then, I was guessing that Jasinda must’ve told him. I dropped the broken bit of sword and clamped my hands over my mouth in shock. Trubble lifted his fingers away from his lips, stained with glossy red, and then gave me a smirk with his cut lip that made him grimace. “When there’s an assignment, you wait for instructions and you sure as shit”—cringed a little at that one—“don’t make our classmates bleed from the face unless you’ve damn well been told to do so.” The man sighed, his teeth slightly more pointed than Air’s, giving me some indication that he was at least part huldra. “Take him to the infirmary and get a flesh whisperer to check him out—and just be glad that I’m not giving you a slash for that nonsense.” The man paused and stared at me with lavender eyes, surprise brimming in his pale irises. “That was some seriously impressive swordplay; you’ll be moved to level six for the rest of the quarter.”

The professor—I was pretty sure his name was Jeremiah—walked away, mumbling under his breath.

Meanwhile, I ground my teeth together and wished Dyre were visible so I could tear him to pieces with my glare.

“Come on,” I growled at Trubble, wrapping my fingers around his wrist and yanking him along behind me. Jasinda scurried to catch up—handlers and spirit whisperers were not allowed to be separated. For all intents and purposes, Jassy and I might as well have been bound together the way I was bound to the ghosts and the shadow fox.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Elijah grumbled as he and Spicer kept pace with the three of us. “Dyre, you prick,” he continued, turning his attention in what I could only assume was the prince’s direction. If I’d wanted to, I could’ve activated my second sight and looked for myself, but why bother? At least this point, I didn’t want to see the asshole. Nah, I wanted to punch him right in the nipple.

“You do realize that you’re going to have to do what the rest of the quarter now? Or else I’m going to get my butt handed to me on a daily basis.” We stormed across the cobblestones and down the road—the Royal College streets were shaped like an infinity symbol—toward the large white and yellow stone building that housed the infirmary.

There was another infirmary in town, a much better one, so any critical patients were simply stabilized and taken back into New Akyumen, but that wasn’t to say this one was lacking in any way. It was considered the fourth best hospital in the country.

“Excuse me?” I said, moving across the gray and white marble floors. A woman appeared from the back, dressed in a professor’s uniform with full epaulettes on her shoulders. She cringed a little at Trubble’s bloody face, checked us in, and then led us down a hall to an empty room.

“I’ll wait here!” Jas called out, sitting down in one of the lobby chairs and pulling out some of our hour five homework, homework that I hadn’t even started yet. Oops. But knowing my handler, she’d probably do it for me anyway.

The receptionist left us in a small room with a marble slab for a table, a sterile cloth to staunch Trubble’s bleeding, and a glass of water that she forced him to take a sip of before she’d leave.

“You owe me an apology,” I said as Dyre faded into view in front of me, Airmienan standing by his side. The Amerin prince flicked the Vaennish prince an angry glare and raised his chin in a haughty, arrogant sort of way.

“You’re a guest in this country, try to remember that, will you?” Air snapped, but Dyre was just staring at me and his brother with copper eyes and a deep frown etched into his features. Once again, I was being used by ghosts and spirits and shadows—and I didn’t like it one cursed bit. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.

Suddenly, I was just desperate to see Vexer, hold a living person close to me and breathe in his skin.

“I don’t know what came over me,” Dyre said, hanging his head in shame. He reached down to his belt and unhooked a small mask that I hadn’t noticed before. It was a near perfect replica of, well, of his brother when Trubble was in that form. Dyre slipped it over his face, his purple and white tail swishing behind him.

“Whatever it was,” Trubble said, sounding stuffed up from all of the blood, “I forgive you.” I took a moment to look between them, trying to decide if Trubble was being sarcastic or not. “You’re upset. You’re dead. And you miss me, I get it.” The living twin hopped down from the table, removing the cloth from his face and spattering the floor with red. When he embraced his ghostly twin, I just about died.

That’s actually kind of … cute?

Crossing my arms under my breasts, I waited them out until Trubble pulled away and Dyre was left to face me again.

“You don’t need that class,” he told me with all due seriousness. “I’ll teach you to fight. Give me a chance, and I’ll make it up to you. You’ll be the only spirit whisperer in the kingdom who’s actually able to defend themselves.” Dyre swept a dramatic bow, and then rose up to his full height, swinging his katana onto his shoulder and then disappearing just before there was a knock at the door and a flesh whisperer stepped into the room.

All my spirits faded—even Eli and Spicer—leaving me with a bleeding, living boy.

The flesh whisperer had Trubble sit on the edge of the table and then carefully laid her fingers against the sides of his face. The bee of jealousy in my belly started to go a little crazy, and I clamped a hand over it to keep it quiet.

“Hold my hand?” Trubble begged. “I’m so scared.” He sounded anything but scared, more like he was asking me to climb into bed with him. But I stepped forward anyway and let him clasp his fingers around mine as the flesh whisperer did her work, the scent of her magic so similar in smell to Trubble’s blood that the entire room became tainted with the stink of copper.

As bad as his injuries were, it only took her a couple of moments to fix him up.

“You’re welcome to head home and bathe before you return to class or you just can clean up in here, whatever you want,” she told him, passing over two small gold cards that we could give to the professor of our next class to explain our tardiness. Well, that I could give to my next professor; Trubble wasn’t even a student here.

The flesh whisperer excused herself, leaving the two of us alone in the room together.

“I know it wasn’t right what he did,” Trubble said, pausing at the stone counter in the corner and using the fresh cloths and running water to clean himself up. The Royal College had some of the most advance plumbing in the world, all these underground aquifers and pipes that water whisperers manipulated to deliver streams of fresh water at the touch of a handle. “But my brother’s worried about our country, our mother, and to be quite honest with you, I don’t think he’s altogether sure why he sacrificed his life for yours.” Trubble glanced over his shoulder and smiled to soften the blow, slipping off his borrowed gold jacket to wipe the blood from his chest.

The sight of that warm cloth moving over his muscles made my own body feel hot and achy. I shifted on my feet and accidentally bumped a few jars on the shelves behind me. They wobbled precariously, but the only one that did fall, Trubble lunged for and caught in a single hand. As I stood there and gaped, he set it back on the shelf above his head and looked down at me.

“Except, of course, for the fact that he has a crush on you.” The shadow boy stared me in the face with slanted, bronze eyes and a wicked little smile. My heart thundered wildly in my chest as he leaned down and hovered his mouth over my own.

“So you have a crush, too?” I whispered, but Trubble just smiled and pressed his lips against my own, invading my mouth with his tongue, tasting me as I leaned back against the wall beneath the shelves and quickly dropped my wings to the floor to avoid breaking anything.

Even though he’d washed his mouth out, he tasted like blood and copper, but for whatever reason, that didn’t make me want to stop. No, I pressed harder, putting my hands on his chest and feeling his heart beat beneath his skin. That sweet, gentle fragrance of lotus blossom surrounded me, wrapping me in a cocoon that I was suddenly desperate not to break.

Trubble put his hand on my waist, this firm, hot press of fingers, and then slid them along the waistband of my breeches.

And of course today was the day that I’d decided not to wear a skirt.

That didn’t seem to deter him at all as he curled his fingers inside my pants and skimmed his way over to the laces on the front. With his other hand, he used quick, deft movements to untie them, yanking the laces completely out and dropping them on the floor. Trubble’s left hand slipped underneath my panties, two of his fingers tracing these slow, elegant movements over my clit.

Pleasure spiraled out from that spot, taking over my body, making my knees feel weak. I curled my hands around each of his shoulders to hold myself up, but when he took it a little further, slipping his fingers inside of me and using his thumb to tease my clitoris, I collapsed and just barely caught myself.

Effortlessly, Trubble slipped his arm around my waist and hauled me up, depositing me on the edge of the marble table. He grabbed the edges of my breeches and pulled them down, even as I told myself I should probably stop. Talk to Air. Talk to Vexer. Do anything but what I was doing right that second.

“I’m not sure I should do this,” I whispered huskily, just as my breeches were yanked over one boot and left to hang from the other. He stepped close to me, standing between my legs and capturing my mouth with his own again. It was undeniable that I had an attraction to this guy, but was it right for me to keep going right now? Technically, a lot of Amerin would say yes, of course it was. I was a woman and it was my right to have as many lovers as I wanted.

But I didn’t want to think of myself like that. I wanted to be progressive, to promote equality, to not just collect lovers but cherish them.

“Wait,” I said, pulling away and putting my hand on Trubble’s chest. I could feel his heart thundering like crazy. “I can’t do this right now, not here.” Talon was still missing, there was tension between Air and me, Vexer and I had a brand-new relationship. Ultimately, it was my choice what to do right now, but I didn’t want to be wracked with guilt over it either.

Trubble stopped immediately, standing so close to me that his warmth made me feel comforted, closed in, like I was wrapped in shadows. The dark magic inside of me responded to that, and I leaned forward, putting my face in the hollow of his neck.

“Gods, you smell good,” I whispered, and Trubble grunted. He was shaking with adrenaline and need, but when I leaned back to look at his face, he had a peaceful sort of expression resting there. He looked so much like Dyre. If it weren’t for the eyes and the hair, I wasn’t sure how easy they’d be to tell apart.

“We should get dressed before the virgin walks in here and has a heart attack.” Trubble moved to pull away, but I reached out and grabbed the waistband of his jeans, holding him still. The look he gave me said he really did not want me to keep touching him right now.

“Finish yourself,” I said, letting go of him and feeling this sudden cold draft in the air when he pulled away. “And I’ll watch.”

“Maybe you should go in the lobby and wait for me instead?” he asked with a sharp-toothed little grin. “Being trapped in my usual body for an entire year makes me a little … sexually unstable.”

“I want to watch,” I repeated, scooting off the table and almost cracking my head on the marble table as I struggled to get back in to my pants. As soon as I grabbed the laces off the floor, I stood up and crossed my arms over my chest.

Trubble stared back at me for a moment like I was a crazy person and then shrugged, leaning his back against the far wall of the room and pulling his cock from his pants. He licked his fingers to lube them up and then took hold of the base, working his hand slowly up and down the length of his shaft.

Warmth flooded between my thighs and the muscles in my lower belly contracted painfully, asking me why I’d completely lost my marbles and said no to this guy. But in my heart, I knew I’d made the right choice. I wasn’t saying no forever, just for now.

Our eyes meet across the room, Hellim’s magic simmering in the air between us as Trubble’s lips parted and sensual little sounds escaped his throat. His eyes became heavy and half-lidded, but he never closed them, keeping his attention locked on me. When he came close to orgasming, I moved across the room and hovered my fingertips over his face, waiting for him to finish, watching him.

My right hand dropped down, fingers teasing over his knuckles as he worked himself hard and fast. I snatched a cloth from the counter and handed it to him, keeping our eyes locked as he groaned and spilled himself into the fabric.

“What the fuck is happening in here?!” Dyre snapped from behind me, and I whirled around to see Air, Eli, Dyre, and Professor Cross in the room. Oh, and also the flesh whisperer who’d just opened the door, presumably to check on us.

She, at least, had the good grace to back out and close it softly behind her.

The spirits, not so much.

“We’re just getting to know each other,” Trubble said as he cleaned himself off and tucked his dick back into his pants. “There’s nothing wrong with them. A strong woman needs a strong harem.”

“You are so old-fucking-fashioned!” Dyre snapped out, and I think if he could’ve in that moment, he’d have possessed me again and decked his brother in the face.

Me, I just made sure to look straight at Air and Eli; I had nothing to hide from them. If I was going to date multiple men, I’d have to be an open book.

“Jacking off a dude in the nurse’s office right before manners and etiquette?” Eli asked, and I couldn’t tell if he was angry … or just bemused. “That’d be an interesting one to ask Mrs. Maniri about: is it socially acceptable to fake an injury during class so you can be excused to fuck for the rest of the hour?”

“Shut up, Eli,” I said, cheeks red as I moved over to Air and took his arm in mine. “I want to be more honest with you,” I told him, even as I felt some guilt anyway, damn it.

“I think we could both be more honest with each other,” he told me, but I didn’t have time to guess what, exactly, that meant before the bells were clanging and we were heading to the far side of campus for the next class.