Sabrina, Agatha and Dorcas were sat outside class waiting for Prudence when Thorn passed them, the clack of her knee high tweed boots sounded, she loved those Steampunk style boots and wore them almost constantly. Thorn carried a stack of books in her hand completely unaware of Agatha's glare. In an instant Agatha was on her feet and had all but blind sided the elder girl, she slammed the books out of Thorn's hands but before they could crash to the floor Thorn caught them and they hovered back up into a neat pile cradled by her arms.
"You're going to want to be nicer to Prudence." Agatha all but growled while Dorcas and Sabrina just stared in surprise.
Thorn flashed a smile. "Or what, baby witch? And has it really come to Prudence sending her sisters after me rather than doing the deed herself?" She made a show of pouting. "Pity. Is this because Daddy likes me better?"
The group's eyes went wide, no one but the Spellman family, the sisters and Father Blackwood himself should have known who Prudence's father was. Agatha was the first to recover, eyes still dark as she stared the taller girl down.
"You really shouldn't make enemies of us, and certainly don't think we're scared of you because you're a Mortimer."
Thorn grinned. "Of course not! It's no fun if you fear me just because of my name, it should be because I'm more powerful."
The sisters and Sabrina hated to admit it but she was more powerful than them – maybe not Sabrina but her magic was far less free flowing then Thorn's was.
"We'll burn you." Sabrina tried to get Agatha to stop, she could see it wasn't helping but the dark-haired girl didn't seem to take the hint.
"Good luck with that."
Thorn carried on down the hall then, her heels clacked on the onyx like floor and Sabrina felt herself relax, everyone at the Academy of Unseen Arts knew not to mess with Thorn Mortimer, she was powerful, a thoroughbred witch and basically the Academy's valedictorian; everyone knew it except for Agatha it seemed. Thorn hadn't started fights but she'd never lost one.
Agatha slumped back down onto the wooden bench between Sabrina and Dorcas where she quickly realised Prudence wouldn't be happy when she got out of class. Sabrina sniffed at the air a little distastefully.
"Can you smell burning?" Asked the blonde and the other two girls started to look around.
"Yeah." Muttered Dorcas. "Unholy God, your hair is on fire!"
The pair quickly set about patting Agatha's long braids out before any real damage could occur. The smell would linger and her braids had ended up a little lopsided but that was it.
Dorcas sighed. "You really shouldn't antagonise her like that. Burn her? Really? The whole school knows Pyrokinesis is her speciality."
That was true, Thorn was unmatched when it came to fire, it was her plaything. Frankly Miss Mortimer was annoyingly good at all her classes, especially Demonology but fire was her true forte. Faustus had actually wondered many a time if she were capable of summoning Hellfire.
The soon to be ex-student made her way down the long halls through each room with a small smile on her face, she could have turned Agatha into ash but it would have been over the top, it hadn't been needed, Agatha just had to remember who not to threaten and she'd promised the High Priest he'd have no more problems with her. She walked up the wooden staircase and knocked on the door to Father Blackwood's office, Thorn could see him through the glass with his back to her hunched over his desk but as soon as he turned to see her he gestured for her to enter.
"Thorn," Did the Father just smile at me? "to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Em, sorry to bother you, Father Blackwood." She said a tad disjointedly.
"No, no bother at all, I was almost done anyway."
"I was hoping you'd read my Demonology essay and suggest any edits."
In all honesty he'd been looking for something more interesting to do than grading papers and finishing his lesson plan.
"Certainly, though you very rarely need to make changes."
Thorn really was his favourite and he hated that he couldn't turn that off. Faustus rounded his large desk and shuffled his things over to one side so as Thorn could set her books down.
"Thank you, Father." She smiled. "This is my final Demonology essay for you and I just want it to be perfect."
"Always so dedicated to your schooling, it is something to be admired, Thorn."
Her smile grew before she turned her attention back to her books and took out her essay. She hunched over the desk similar to how Faustus had only a few moments previous and the High Priest could see straight down her corset, he knew she'd not been putting herself on display for him on purpose but for the love of Lucifer she was distracting. It was only when she started to speak again that Faustus drew his attention back to the world around him.
"I suppose edits isn't really why I'm here. I know you gave us free rein with which demon we chose but I've found that certain parameters you set don't match my chosen subject."
Thorn looked up at him then as she finally sat down and damn those emerald eyes and stunning cleavage; Faustus had to mentally shake himself.
"Well," he began in a deep voice "which demon have you chosen?"
"Balam." She answered a little fast. "Though me research suggests that Balan might actually be his true name."
Faustus raised an eyebrow and rested his hands in a pyramid under his chin. Silence hung between them for a few seconds.
"Balam is not just any demon, he's a Prince of Hell."
Thorn nodded, he loved it when she spoke of her work, she was always so animated.
"Yes. I think that's why I'm having problems. I wanted your help, you'll be able to tell me if I've overlooked something or if this is utterly unusable and I should start from scratch. I'd rather not do that but like I said I want this essay to be perfect for you."
Faustus reached across the desk and took her essay into his hands, it wasn't as long as some of the pieces she'd handed in over the years but he suspected that was because she'd not finished.
"I'll read it now for you."
There was that smile again, so beautiful but hiding a powerful danger. "Thank you, Father."
Thorn had just expected him to skim read it, Faustus Blackwood was a very busy warlock after all but no, he carefully went through every line while she waited. He had to read slow because Thorn had gone into an awful lot of detail and he didn't want to miss anything. The first six or so paragraphs were read in utter silence but then she drew his attention momentarily away.
"You're son not here?"
"No." He shook his head ever so slightly. "He's with his Nanny."
The younger witch nodded seemingly happy with his answer though Faustus didn't look up from her essay to see it. Once some distance into her work he glanced up but quickly had to force his head back down to the handwritten text, she'd crossed her legs which showed off the lace tops to her stockings and milky thighs. He swallowed audibly
After a while Thorn found herself at a loss for what to do, sit there quietly was the obvious solution but she'd never been one to just sit and do nothing. Her green eyes trailed over to his bookshelf on the far right of the room and she tilted her head slightly to try and read the titles though it wasn't too much avail. They didn't look regularly used or even touched, probably for display purposes more than anything else, but still Thorn found herself curious.
"May I, Father?"
She gestured to the shelf and Faustus' eyes peered up but for a second before he have a curt nod and returned to her essay. Carefully Thorn rose to her feet and went to the bookshelf to peruse. Faustus hated that he couldn't keep his blue eyes from straying up to admire the backs of those long legs, smooth and perfect that ended in some really unnecessarily high heels.
Faustus hadn't ever paid any attention to a woman's shoes before, not one iota, not with Constance or any other woman he'd bedded. But those long legs vanished into some seriously stunning boots with little silver buttons and a brocade pattern in a color that matched her eyes. They were a focal point that drew the eye in and forced his attention upwards to the ridiculously short black skirt and then further to the laces of her corset and her long raven-hair. He'd thought Thorn Mortimer beautiful since the her Dark Baptism but she'd never been so prominent in his mind before, maybe it was because he knew he'd been leaving soon.
The essay though, he had to finish her essay, so Father Blackwood forced his head back to the last few paragraphs. Her work was good – always was. He heard her remove a book from the shelf but no, he only had two more lines, he'd not look up again. Almost the second he'd finished Thorn spoke as though she'd been able to tell how far through he'd been. Faustus set the essay back on his desk and made certain to look at her face and not the way her raven-hair cascaded over her shoulders.
"I have this book in my dorm." She looked at the leather-bound book with such care.
"Yes, Jenkins Ascelin wrote some rather interesting and easy to comprehend texts. However, I am curious as to why a witch as advanced and skilful as yourself would keep such a tome amongst her things here at the Academy."
Thorn seemed a little mournful then and slipped the book back into place before she returned to her seat.
"Gray gave it to me when I had my Dark Baptism, it's the last thing he ever gave me."
"Yes, your brother was a very good warlock. He truly excelled at Invocation. Very impressive, your brother's Invocation, your Conjuration, it would have been nice to discover what your younger brother advanced in."
"Probably Herbalism. Alistair was forever mixing things together." She took a breath. "Anyway, I'm taking up your time. What do you think about my essay?"
Faustus had actually momentarily forgotten about that. He picked it up again and thumbed through it.
"It's actually rather good. You're right, certain prerequisites of the task won't be possible for you to complete."
Thorn sighed. "I need to chose another subject, don't I?" She'd expected that.
Father Blackwood thought for a moment then shook his head and set her work down again.
"No." Thorn raised an eyebrow. "Usually I would say yes and have you start over but I am curious to see where this goes. I cannot fault your work so far, it might not be the essay I set but it is a very good essay. I would rather see where this takes you than you throwing yourself into something new." He drummed his claws on the desk quietly. "No student in my time here as Dean has ever handed in something on Balam or any other Prince of Hell."
"I could always do two, finish this and write something else that would fit your original parameters." She suggested.
That right there was why Thorn had always been his favourite, not only did she work as hard as she could, excel and carry power wherever she went but she – for some reason – always went out of her way to try and please him; something she usually succeed in doing.
"I appreciate your work ethic, Thorn. I wish more students were like you." He handed the essay back. "But no, that won't be necessary, just complete this."
"Okay, thank you, Father."
Thorn gathered up her things with a faint smile on her purple lips and turned to leave, it would be better once she was gone, Faustus would be able to calm his racing heart, but then a scrap of paper on the floor beside his desk caught his eye.
"Wait." The young witch instantly turned back, arms full of books. "Come here."
Thorn obeyed quickly without argument, in fact thinking about it she'd never argued with him over anything, always so eager to please him. She half rounded the his desk so as she was almost stood next to him. Faustus reached down teasingly slow and plucked the little scrap of paper from the floor, he leant back comfortably in his high backed chair so he could read her delicate handwriting.
"Consequences of his actions?" Faustus raised an arm up.
"Sorry, Father." Thorn took the paper scrap, their fingers brushed together lightly, his skin so warm. "I write little notes to remind me of stuff I want to look into."
He couldn't argue with that. "I'd recommend instead of focusing on consequences, you think more about he reasons for defying in the first place."
Thorn nodded, his suggestion seemed more logical. "Yes, Father."
It would have been so easy for him to just pull her down into his lap or push her against his desk and keep her there, but Father Blackwood resisted and watched Thorn leave his office completely unaware she'd gotten to having the High Priest between her legs. Witches didn't do love very well but they certainly did passion.