He doesn’t want me here. He is Blake Mephistopheles. They call him Phist. He’s hard, stubbled, leather-clad—and an asshole. And here is Hellespointe Academy, where black magic is a shortcut and the teachers turn a blind eye to spell-fueled cage fights. He thinks he can chase me off by making me uncomfortable. He wields his good looks and his charisma like a sharpened blade. A wide, thick, hard one. I’m affected. Any girl would be. Sure, he’s threatening. He’s huge, and he has all those gleaming muscles. And then there’s that sneer of his, that sexy sneer—But it doesn’t matter, because I’m going to kill him. He murdered my sister, and the only reason I came to this school was for revenge. One way or another, Blake Mephistopheles must die.