Jaxon bounced his legs nervously. He instinctively pulled his hood moreover his shaggy hair as his eyes darted from left to right. Why was he so nervous? He was three seats away from the si-witch herself. The half siren half-witch vengeful chick could split his skull with her scream. He fidgeted in his seat as he focused his eyes on the teacher, but his mind kept asking questions such as what if she glances in his direction or he gets asked to pass something to her.
He inhaled deeply, in his attempt to slow his breathing. He could protect himself just as he had done the following night but the truth was, he had never created a shield that big or even teleported before. It was as if his conscious mind was pushed to the back seat and his subconscious took charge. That kind of magic did come back late in the night when the shudders took over and the feeling of sudden death drove fear into his heart.
A buzzer suddenly went off and Jaxon flinched, relaxing a little at the realization that it was just the bell. He rushed out of the class as Marisol turned her back and rushed to his room. He closed the chamber door with comical heaves as he attempted to catch his breath.
“What’s wrong with you,” Quincy asked as his hands skimmed over his various books.
“I just escaped the wrath of Lilith,” he said dramatically his back pressed against the door.
Quincy paused and bit his lips as he resisted the urge to burst into a fit of laughter. “OK then,” he replied and continued his search.
Jaxon shrugged off his hoodie revealing a black v-neck shirt. “I’m going to take a quick shower, he said and disappeared down the hall. Quincy sighed as he realized that he didn’t have the book he needed on Necromancy, well partial necromancy: communion with the dead. It would probably be in the witch’s part of the library, accessible by only the most powerful witches in the academy. For with great power comes great responsibility, so why not give that kind of power to the already powerful.
Quincy sighed and shook his head. He always knew that there was something odd about Mr. Morello, everyone saw a fragile little man but Quincy knew better. He had seen something similar end badly and he refused to let it hurt anyone close to him again.
Quincy leaned against his bookshelf deep in his thoughts, until a few minutes later Jaxon reentered the small living room area. His hair glistened as the water dropped from it. He pushed it backward, running the towel through the ends. As he raised his hands and ran them repeatedly through his hair, his shirt raised, revealing smooth tan skin and a drool-worthy V line that caused Quincy to raise a questionable brow.
He was kicked out of his thoughts and confusion took over his facial expression and body language. He was about to voice his disbelief when a genius idea suddenly hit him over the head.
“Hey, um, Jaxon,” he called, walking towards the doe-eyed masculine beauty. He turned around a little shock, pure innocence in his eyes.
“I need your help with something,” Quincy said with a dangerous glint in his eyes.
Jaxon immediately shook his head.
“You don’t even know what I was about to say,” Quincy said rushing to block his path as he headed back towards the hallway. It was then Quincy realized that they both stood on the same height and Jaxon has been slouching purposely.
“I don’t care,” he responded shaking his head.
“I’ll owe you one,” he bargained.
“You already owe me two,” he retorted. Quincy wrecked his brain searching for something but he just kept on coming up blank. He refused to give up. He needed that book to communicate with his sister to ask her what she knew about his tattoo. He knew that she was hiding something from him before she died and he had a feeling that it was related to his tattoo.
“It's really important and related to how we can find out more about that mark on your neck,” Quincy said honestly.
Jaxon’s shoulders dropped and he nodded reluctantly. Quincy released him with a pat on the back and he walked towards his hoodie thrown over the back of the couch. “No, no,” Quincy immediately objected. Jaxon paused and stared at him confused.
“You need to look like a real warlock when you walk in there,” he said causing Jaxon to raise his bro sassily.
“You know what I mean,” Quincy immediately corrected. “You need to look, confident and powerful as if you're next in line to be high warlock of your province,” he continued.
Jaxon stared at him surprised at how close he got to home. Lyron was the high warlock of his province and since Lyron adopted Jaxon, he was next in line.
“I’m not sure I can be...confident,” Jaxon said stuffing his hands into his pocket. “Also, Marisol is out there, who knows what she’s planning. What if she catches me,” he spewed up excuses.
“You are just going to the library. Also, I don’t know where your eyesight is at but compared to the slouching creep she saw last night- no offense,” Quincy paused, scribbling something on a piece of paper. “She will be wondering why she hasn’t tapped that yet and trust me your gonna wanna play hard to get so that she doesn’t spread a horrendous rumor about you and I probably shouldn’t have said that because now you may not want to go but who the heck cares I’m a classic villain, it's in my nature,” he ranted, handing the paper to Jaxon, who took it slowly and began to step back.
On the paper were clear directions on where to find the book and the name. As Jaxon left the room, Quincy shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need a filter,” he said aloud to himself and walked towards the cupboard, where Kilm hid the bottle of whiskey.
Jaxon inhaled deeply as he paused before the doors of the library. This was the second scariest thing that he had done since he started at this academy. Could he do another scary thing? Admittedly, he longed for the feeling he got after the first time. When he invoked his powers and created a shield powerful enough to stop the scream of a half siren half-witch hybrid.
Quincy had given him directions and all he had to do was follow them. Quick in, quickly out. He felt a rush as he nodded to himself and pushed back his hair from his face. He opened the library doors and entered. He attracted a few glances but he ignored them, focusing on the task ahead. He marched towards the staircase and paused. His eyes ran across the poster that said that no magic was allowed beyond this area.
He sighed and bit his lips. His eyes fell downcast, grazing over another warning plastered on the wooden railing. He unwittingly glared at it and then asked himself what would Lyron do. A smile graced his face as his eyes glowed green and with a wave of his hand the words rearranged themselves to his choosing, with that he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stepped through the high mage barrier, and jogged up the stairs. Unaware of the curious eyes that watched him.
He marched up the stairs and paused before the bookshelf. He trailed his fingers carelessly over the spines of the books, searching for one in particular. A sure rarity is called The Songs Of The Sea. This book held a lot more than just songs but myths. Myths, long forgotten by my man but still as powerful where he stands. A lyric, Jaxon vaguely remembered from Lyron's rumbling. It was the key ingredient of a spell that shielded him from evil eyes for as long as he could remember.
His hands paused and his fingers gripped and pulled out the small book from between the two clinging to it tightly. He observed the simplicity of the book in his hands but knew deep with his soul, he held the secrets of the sea.
“Ugh, hmm. You can’t have that,” a soft voice said from close by.
“And why not,” he replied turning the book over.
“Because you aren’t supposed to be in here and unless you want to get kicked out, I’d advise you to hand it over,” she said sassily, folding her arms and boring holes into the side of Jaxon’s head.
He smiled and placed his hands behind his back and turned. He resisted the urge to let his coolness falter when he realized who was standing in front of him. But he was confident his eyes gave him away. He cleared his throat and glanced away.
“I see you know who I am,” she said with a slight quirk of her lips.
Jaxon blinked at the floor and then threw on what he hoped was a handsome smile. “A beautiful girl,” he said surprising himself and Marisol who looked flustered. He swallowed his terror and took a step closer to her. He was 50% sure that she didn’t recognize him.
“I’ll make sure this makes its way back to you when I’m done,” he whispered against her ear and then fled the library.
Leaving a confused, flustered, and maybe even interested Marisol standing frozen in her skin.