Shadows Of The Night

Chapter 5

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.