Smoke and Mirrors (28 page)

Everything she had worked for, everything she had done to change her circumstances and work toward a better life, all gone on the whim of a creature who thought she was a joke.

Anger was slowly boiling through the humiliation. It kept her warm and focused as she shifted from a weak shamble to a stomping rage back home.

If she’d thought it would do her any good losing him, she would have called up an illusion to hide herself from her shadow, but she didn’t want to waste a single iota of her energy on him anymore. Aside from that, if he kept even a scrap of her ruined clothing, plucked a single strand of hair she had left behind on a pillow, or even took one of the utensils she’d used on breakfast that morning, he could use that as a focus object to track her down whenever he wanted. Just like Viper had.

To his credit, he didn’t do a thing to interrupt her on her way. She’d never seen the streets so empty as they were as she marched her way home. There were a few motorcycle cops mirroring her path, even if they didn’t realize she was the one the airborne monster was following. Within a few blocks, there were also a good number of news and police choppers in the air, circling the dragon from what they probably thought was a safe distance.

As soon as she reached her apartment building, she turned on a heel to glare up at the serpentine form lingering above. He stopped when she did, hovering, each flap of those gigantic, bat-like wings stirring a miasma of trash, dead leaves, and paper fluttering into a whirlwind around her. A couple of the motorcycle cops pulled over, looking back and forth between her and the winged serpent staring down with those glowing, star-filled eyes.

“Leave me alone!”

She punctuated the demand with a slash of her hand, sending the illusion of a jagged spear tipped in searing hot metal hurtling toward him. As he dodged aside, moving by instinct, she slipped into the building.

Her guts went watery at the earth-shaking roar that sounded outside, drowning out the steady drone of the helicopters and sirens, but she ignored it and trudged up the stairs to her floor. A few people were huddling together in the hallway, including her mother and her neighbor, Charlie, who was holding the squirming, yapping daschund Schlong in his arms.

The moment she spotted her, her mother ran forward, gathering her up in a tight hug. Kimberly’s face crumpled and she clutched at her mom, burying a muffled sob in her hair.

“Where have you been? Did you see that thing outside making all that noise?”

“Yeah, we thought Godzilla might be on the rampage,” Charlie said.

Kimberly shook her head, not wanting to talk around the lump in her throat. Frowning, her mother leaned back, peering into her face. Realizing that her daughter was in distress, she turned to Charlie and her other neighbors, wrapping an arm around Kimberly’s shoulders as she led her to their apartment.

“Let me know if you hear anything on the news. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Charlie and the others nodded, resuming their speculative chatter to each other. Once they were inside, Kimberly’s mother led her to the living room couch, sitting her down and wrapping the old throw on the back around her shoulders. Clasping her cold hands in one of her own, she tugged her into a tight hug, kissing her temple.

“Tell me what happened. Where have you been?”

Sniffling, Kimberly choked out a few words, doing her best not to burst into tears. “Oh, Mom, I screwed up so bad. I don’t think I can fix it. Any of it.”

Rocking her and squeezing her hand, her mom didn’t reply right away. As angry as she had been at her daughter disappearing for days without a word, it was clear it wasn’t the time to be reprimanding her.

“Whatever happened, whatever you may have done, I believe you are strong enough to get through it. You are smarter, stronger and braver than I ever was. I don’t say it often enough, my baby girl, but I’m very proud of you.”

That was enough to start Kimberly bawling. Her mom held her tight, tucking Kimberly’s head under her chin. When the worst of the sobs died into hiccupping whimpers, she ventured a question.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Kimberly gave a few uncertain snuffles, swiping a hand under her nose before answering. “I messed up everything. I trusted this guy to help me, but now I don’t have any of the things I need and won’t meet the requirements to graduate even though the professors gave me a few extra days to figure things out. I made a total fool of myself and now none of the other magi will ever respect me. I’ll never get the job I wanted. Which means I have to keep working for Don.”

Her mom sighed, lightly brushing her fingertips over her temple before running her fingers through her hair in long, soothing strokes. It was no secret in the household that Kimberly hated her job and planned to leave it as soon as she could afford to. If she knew how to make enough to support them both, her mother would have happily told her to quit then and there. The reality was that without that secondary income and occasional extra free food from Don, they would be out on the street, homeless and hungry.

As Kimberly’s eyelids fluttered shut, her mom made a thoughtful sound before speaking again.

“I don’t always understand what’s happening in your life,” she said, “but I know you’ve been doing an incredible job of balancing school and work. Sometimes it takes a long time to fix our mistakes. I know that better than you probably think I do. But you’re doing all the right things to build yourself a better future than the one I’ve been able to make for you. You’ll get through this, baby girl. I know it.”

“I don’t know,” Kimberly whispered. “I wish it would all just go away. I don’t know if I can handle this anymore.”

“Stick with it, you’re almost there. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. You haven’t had much time to experience life’s possibilities, kiddo. I never wanted that for you. I know how hard you work, and I’m sorry it had to be this way, but if I can help make it better in the meantime, just tell me what I can do.”

Kimberly wasn’t about to tell her she’d already done more than she knew. She was right.

There was no real option but to soldier forward. Professor Reed might have been trying to get rid of her, assigning an impossible task to ensure she wouldn’t pass her finals, but it occurred to Kimberly that the centaurs had promised to help her. A centaur familiar certainly wouldn’t regain her much in the way of respect, but she could deal with the indignity of showing her face at school long enough to get her certificate of graduation.

If she didn’t, she would have to go with the previously unthinkable Plan B and live out her life as a mortal, never using her powers in the open again. She wasn’t foolish enough to openly practice magic without her graduation papers. Without that certificate, if word got out to any of the local covens that a rogue mage was casting around town, she’d be hunted down and destroyed for the sake of the greater community. Assuming she wasn’t on a most wanted list already for being outed as a sorcerer.

Even after she graduated, no magi would work with her now. Her hopes of being picked up by The Circle went down the drain the moment Cormac revealed himself for being the lying snake-in-the-grass he had accused Viper of being.

Chances were also good that a number of the Others in town would shun her. Rieva had thought they might make a tidy sum working together, but Kimberly wasn’t sure how long that would last once word spread about what a fool she’d made of herself.

Even so, while Rieva might have been laughing with the rest about how Cormac had fooled her, the changeling had extended an offer. Kimberly might be able to make a living as a freelancer if she played her cards right and didn’t make the stupid mistake of being so quick to trust anyone ever again. She would hold Rieva to her word and see how things played out.

They didn’t have to like each other to work together. And anything had to be better than working in that café with a man who openly hated and opposed everything she was for the rest of her life.

It wasn’t fair, but nothing in her life ever had been. She didn’t have any intention of letting anyone use or abuse her again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Kimberly spent another day recuperating, but insisted on going to school and to put in an appearance at work on Friday despite her mother telling her to stay abed and stop worrying about the rent. She didn’t want to miss the last day of school before finals week. She had the feeling there would be some late nights spent studying her materials over the weekend. She also didn’t want Don to think she’d quit, or to think about how paltry her paycheck would be with all the hours she’d missed. The least she could do would be to give him an apology in person for blowing off work.

Assuming he didn’t kick her back out the minute she stepped foot in the door, that was.

She was too tired and beyond caring what anyone thought about her anymore to bother hiding how sallow her complexion had become or the dark smudges under her eyes. She trudged to school on Friday morning, ignoring the whispers and points and stares as she stepped through the Gate on 77th and entered the main hall at Blackhollow.

Even the snickers of Aidan and his cohorts as she passed them in the entrance hall didn’t get more than a slight curl of her lip. Where she once would have flinched and hurried on, now she hardly noticed or cared about their mockery. She had faced down dragons and wyverns. Their taunts were nothing compared to that.

A fair number of familiars were racing up and down the halls along with the students, squirrels and cats and birds and mice, all on the run or wing to deliver messages to the professors before the first classes of the day. Despite the high, arched ceiling, Kimberly had to duck a small flock of ravens flying too low on their way to deliver gold sealed pre-acceptance letters to some hoity-toity coven to Professor Reed’s classroom. Budding excitement that one of those letters might be for her died a quick, quiet death when it occurred to her that none of her professors—not even Professor Reed—had given her any indication that they had sent letters of recommendation ahead to any of their covens.

The other students kept their distance, save for Xander. He zipped around a group of chattering third years to fall into step beside her, his relief at seeing her quickly fading into concern.

“Hey, what the heck happened? You never showed on Sunday and I haven’t seen you in school or at that café all week. Did you get sick?”

She gave him a wan smile. “Sort of. But I survived. Yay, go me?”

He smiled back, though it was still tempered with worry. “Okay, sure. Go you. What the heck did you survive? Are you sure you should be here? You look like hell.”

She snorted. “You charmer, you.”

“Hey, what can I say? I know how to talk to the ladies.”

That got a laugh out of her. She scrubbed a hand down her face, surreptitiously lightening the circles under her eyes as she did it. The move would have been more effective with a mirror handy so she could see what she was doing, but it would have to do for the time being.

“I’ll be fine. I’m just exhausted. I don’t want to talk about what happened here. Maybe you can walk with me to work after school?”

He nodded, then reached out to grab her backpack. Ignoring her weak protests, he carried it for her to Professor Lim’s classroom for her first period of the day; Conjuration.

“I’ll see you in Circles after lunch. Professor Cohen gave me the green light to start your circle for you since I already finished prepping mine and so you won’t have as much catching up to do.”

She gave him a grateful smile, sinking into her seat. “Thanks, Xander. You’re the best.”

He winked and shot her with a finger gun, heading to the hall as the first bell rang. “You know it. See you in a bit!”

She waved, then settled into concentrating on her class, even though it was one of the ones where she had to fake results on practicals with illusions. She found the theory behind the spellwork fascinating even if she couldn’t conjure enough spark to light a candle. The best she had ever learned how to do was make illusions so thorough that they fooled every sense, including touch.

Her fires might not leave a mark on a person, but they would still feel like they were being fried to a crisp until the illusion was dispelled. Illusory food would have taste and consistency, but it would never satisfy anyone’s hunger. There were any number of things she could do, but none of it held the substance of elemental magic. Everything she did was designed to fool the senses, not reshape reality.

The hour spent on reviewing planar conjuration stirred a peculiar longing in her for abilities she’d never possessed. It had been years since she’d yearned so deeply for something she couldn’t have. Her acceptance of her failings early on had only spurred on her desire to prove she could make it anyway by graduating and clawing out a place for herself in a world where she didn’t quite fit in.

That drive to succeed had served her well over the past four years. Despite all the ridicule, all the setbacks, and all the hardships, she had found ways around all the spells she couldn’t cast. Where her own innate magic failed, she found alternate sources of power, sometimes relying on arcane hedgemagic found in some of the most ancient of dusty tomes in the back stacks of the library to find glyphs, runes, and circles that netted her the same results as the elemental spells her fellow students cast.