Blood Haven: Year One: A Mayhem of Magic World Story

by Nicole Zoltack

  My nostrils flare. “I don’t want to talk about her.”

  “He does love her.” Mercy gasps.

  “I do not,” I grumble, marching ahead, but they fall into place beside me.

  “He fancies himself in love with her,” Bermon corrects.

  "Ah. Yes, well, sixteen is a bit young to settle down anyhow." Mercy grins.

  “If all you two are going to do is talk about her, I suggest you leave me behind,” I say stiffly.

  This unsettled feeling in my soul has nothing to do with Bellanore Shade. Yes, she is a lovely werewolf, and yes, I do like her, and maybe I can grow to love her if given a chance, but Bermon is right. She acts as if I don't exist, and I haven't gone out of my way to change her thoughts and opinion on me.

  Why? Am I scared? Nothing scares me, but this strange feeling won’t be shaken. It started a week ago, and I can’t shake it. Moonstone Academy has been in session for a month now, and it’s our first year of three. By the time we graduate, we should, in theory, be able to control our animals as well as any other magical abilities that we possess. Not all humans are created equal, and neither are all werewolves. For that matter, neither are all shifters.

  “He really does have it bad,” Mercy whispers to Bermon.

  Bermon grunts, and I grimace. As much as I am glad that they’re being nice to each other, although granted their arguments are more on Mercy than Bermon, I do not want them to gang up on me.

  I inhale sharply and make a turn around a water fountain of a marble wolf howling at the moon. Does either of them have this same feeling inside of them? I swear my life is about to change, but I don't know if it's for the better or if everything will come crashing down on me.

  “Maybe this will make you feel better,” Bermon says. “I heard that there is a party that Bellanore might be attending tomorrow.”

  “What party?” Mercy asks with a frown. “And why don’t I know about this? Who didn’t invite me?”

  Bermon chuckles. “I don’t know if any of us are invited.”

  I side-eye him. “You want us to crash a party? I don’t think that will make a good impression on Bellanore.”

  “Maybe, but…” Bermon shrugs and then shakes his head. “No, it’s a terrible idea. We wouldn’t be able to just sneak in.”

  “Why not?” Mercy asks suspiciously. “Oh, is it a human party? But humans wouldn’t be able to tell that we’re werewolves, so what’s the… It’s not a human party, but it’s not a werewolf one, either, is it?”

  “It’s not,” Bermon admits.

  I eye my friend. “What are you not telling us?”

  “It’s a party to celebrate the blood moon.”

  Mercy gasps and covers her mouth with her hands before slapping her palms on Bermon’s chest.

  “You cannot even be considering going to that party!” she yells as she slaps him again and again.

  Bermon grips her wrists and lowers her hands, which are curling into fists. She’s a fierce werewolf, a born fighter, and she hates vampires with a special vengeance.

  “Why would Bellanore attend a vampire party?” I ask, not bothering to correct Bermon. It’s actually a ball, not a traditional party, and it’s for the red moon, not the blood moon. Although I suppose a blood moon is red.

  Bermon eyes me. Even Mercy gives me a look.

  “What?” I ask, holding out my hands.

  Mercy jerks to free herself from Bermon’s grasp and marches around him to stand in front of me. “Bellanore… She has some kind of connection to them somehow. I don’t know the specifics, but she might… She might have a vampire ancestor or something.”

  I gasp sharply, so many scents infiltrating through my nose, but I also smell the distinct sharp smell of brimstone. Anger. Mercy’s absolutely furious.

  “I forgot about that,” she murmurs, shaking her head. “I know she’s beautiful. That vampire ancestor might be to blame, but seriously, Julian, can’t you find someone else to be in love with the idea of being in love with her?”

  Scowling, I flick my head to try to get my shaggy brown hair out from my eyes. “You can’t just go and choose who you love.”

  “So you do love her?” she presses. “You never quite answer that.”

  “I… I would like to get to know her.”

  “And going to this party will give you the chance to get to know her,” Bermon says.

  “You’re hoping that my seeing her surrounded by vampires will make me turn away from her, aren’t you?” I ask Bermon. “Why don’t you want me to be with her?”

  “You’ve been depressed lately,” Bermon says.

  Mercy nods. “Even I noticed that. Is it because of her? Because she doesn’t like you back?”

  I grit my teeth and heave a sigh. “I don’t know. I just… I’m not myself lately, and I don’t know why.”

  “The idea of going to a vampire party… Bermon, that’s crazy,” Mercy murmurs.

  “Yes, I know. I wish I never suggested it, but…”

  “It might help him, and besides. Bellanore is not one of them, even if she has a single drop of vampire blood in her. She might be in danger. We can go to see if she needs protecting.”

  “That is true,” Bermon says slowly, “but I don’t think—”

  "And then Julian can sweep in and save her. She'll fall madly in love with him! But are you sure you still want that?" Mercy asks me, finally including me in their conversation. I swear they would dictate my life for me if I let them, which I, of course, never would allow. My life is mine, even if I do feel a bit unsettled and anxious as of late.

  Mercy glares at me, and I realize she’s waiting for an answer, but I honestly don’t remember what she just said. Pathetic, I know, but…

  “You know? With her being part-vampire?” Mercy prompts. “Do you still want to be with her?”

  I throw up my hands. “Do you want me to want to go to this party?” I ask. “I would’ve thought you wouldn’t want me to.”

  “Not alone, you’re not,” Mercy says cheerfully.

  I glance at Bermon. “Why do you think she wants to go?”

  “Probably to spy on the vampires,” he says.

  I side-eye her.

  Mercy holds up her hands. "Don't look at me like that! I won't stir up any trouble or do anything that might jeopardize your chances with Bellanore!"

  “Do you even know her?” Bermon asks Mercy.

  "No. I don't think I have any classes with Bellanore. She tends to keep to herself, doesn't she?"

  I nod. “She does.”

  “A perfect, beautiful mystery.” Mercy rolls her eyes. “So, we’re all settled then? The three of us will—”

  “All of us?” I ask. “I don’t know if this is a good idea—”

  "Yes. All three or not one of us," Mercy says, reverting back to her cheerful tone.

  “I’m also not sure this is a smart idea, either,” I grumble.

  Bermon books with laughter. “It is Mercy’s idea after all.” At her glare, he hastens to add, “But it’s not a terrible one.”

  “No, not dreadful.” Mercy winks and rubs her hands together. “Good. I’m almost looking forward to this. It’ll be nice to have something to spice things up around here.”

  "That's just it. It's not around here. It's at the vampires' campus," I remind her. "Are we even certain Bellanore is going? Maybe I should just—"

  “If you want to get the girl, sometimes you have to be bold and daring. Girls like that.” Mercy beams as she nods knowingly.

  I heave a sigh. “I don’t like this,” I mutter.

  “Don’t you worry.” She grabs my hands, squeezes them, and then rushes away.

  “What do you think she’s planning?” I ask Bermon.

  “Knowing her? Our outfits.”

  I snort.

  “For your wedding to Bellanore.”

  I glower at him, but Bermon’s laughing.

  “She does take things too far, doesn’t she?” I murmur.

  “Yes, but
she does have a big heart even if she is a bit impulsive.” Bermon shrugs.

  “Why did you suggest the party?” I ask. “You don’t seem to think it’s the best of ideas either.”

  Bermon hesitates. “You do seem depressed.”

  “Yes, but a walk can help. Going for a hike. Mountain climbing. Enjoy some time letting my wolf free. Sneaking into a party for vampires? It’s asking for trouble.”

  Bermon inhales deeply and exhales slowly. “Sometimes, you have to dare to live if you want to live at all.”

  “That is the strangest way to say go big or go home,” I joke.

  He laughs. “It’s possible we’ll live to regret it, but I don’t think it can hurt too terribly.”

  “Oh, it might ruin my chances with Bellanore. It might end with us being caught and having our claws removed. It might end with—”

  “It could change your life,” Bermon agrees. “Isn’t that worth any risk?”

  “I just don’t know if Bellanore is worth it.”

  “You can stop this if you truly want to,” he says. “If I misjudged, if the melancholy isn’t because of Bellanore…”

  I hesitate. Whatever it is inside of me, it wants more. My life is missing something, and maybe some excitement will help.

  Despite myself, I grin. “I’ve always enjoyed a good party. If the vampire’s one doesn’t help any, I’ll just have to host my own.”

  “Sounds like a plan, Julian. Sounds like a plan.”

  Chapter 3

  Romelia

  On the morning of the party, I'm ready to rush out of my bedroom. I overslept, and if I don't leave this moment, I'm going to be late for classes.

  I’m ready to burst into the hallway to head to the door to the castle and almost plow into a box.

  “What in the world?” I mumble.

  Tyra pops her head above the box. “It’s addressed to you. I think it’s from your parents. A guy dressed in a uniform brought it.”

  I sigh. “Yes, it’s probably from a servant. Go and put it on my bed.”

  “Are you sure? If this was coming to me, I would be opening it right away.” She shakes the box a little. “It’s fairly light, but look at the size of this thing!”

  “We have class,” I remind her. “We’re both going to be late.”

  “Yes, but aren’t you curious?”

  “No.”

  “No?” she all but shrieks.

  “Tyra, I’ll be able to open it after classes. Then, I will be able to…”

  The look she’s giving me is ridiculous, so absurd that I have to burst out laughing.

  “How can you handle the suspense?” she moans.

  “Easily.” I take the box from her and reenter my room to put it on the bed. “There. It can stay there until—”

  My cell rings.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. When I peek them open, I glance at the clock. Too late. Even with our vampire speed, we’re going to be late for Blood Magic.

  But I can’t not answer the call. Not with who the caller is. If I don’t answer, she’ll just call again and again and again until I cave and answer. She’s done that to me before.

  With a sigh, I answer. “Mother, hello. I—”

  “Romelia, how are you?” she coos.

  I lift my eyebrows at Tyra, who shrugs. Tyra's my mother's niece, so Tyra knows Mother well enough to know that my mother never coos.

  “Mother, I’m late for class. I—”

  “Oh, that’s all right. You’re doing so well in all of them, I’m sure.” I can just picture her waving her hand airily.

  “Actually, Blood Magic isn’t the easiest of courses and—”

  “That’s wonderful, dear. Did you get the package?”

  I eye the massive box on the bed. It’s wrapped in silver and gold with a massive bow on top. It’s gaudy, and just looking at it makes my stomach twist into knots.

  “Yes, Mother. I—”

  “Did you open it?” she asks eagerly.

  I sigh and then sigh again when I spy the playful smirk on Tyra’s face. She claps her hands without making a sound, and I just shake my head.

  “I take your silence as you opening it now, I suppose?” Mother asks.

  “Yes, Mother.”

  I can’t deny her anything. Feeling very much played, I move to the box and turn one of my nails into a claw.

  “Don’t use a claw,” Mother says as if she can see me.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” I retract the claw and grab one of the flaps, intent on ripping the box open with my super strength.

  "You do have a letter opener, don't you? I know your father, and I bought you one."

  Or seven.

  Like a doting, dutiful daughter, I pluck one of the dagger-shaped letter openers from my nightstand and open the box.

  “Oh,” Tyra says as I lift out the dress.

  No, not dress.

  It’s a gown.

  Even I have to admit it's stunning. It's all silver with a low neckline. A ruby gemmed broach sits in the middle of where my cleavage would be. Beneath is a black corset with a gothic design bodice. Above the skirt is a sheer black overlay with longer points that resemble a spider's web. There's even a batwing cape that attaches via silver bracelets to each arm, which is a bit much if you ask me.

  “What do you think?” Mother asks fervently. “Isn’t it stunning? You will look simply stunning in this at the ball, don’t you agree? In the bottom of the box, you’ll find a necklace and two rings.”

  “This is for the ball?” I ask, shocked. “I was going to wear one of my black and red dresses—”

  “No, no, dear girl. You can’t. Every other girl will be wearing red and black, and you must stand out.”

  “I must?” I roll my eyes.

  “Necklace?” Tyra mouths. At my nod, she roots inside the huge box to find the jewelry for me as I sit beside the box, the dress on my lap. It’s a little crinkled up, and Mother would be furious if she saw me “mistreat” the dress like this, but I just know that if she’s gone to this much trouble to pick out my attire, that there’s a reason for her interference.

  “Yes, Romelia. Why wouldn’t you? That silver color will bring out the red in your eyes.”

  I roll said eyes. “Because red eyes are so rare for a vampire,” I mumble.

  “Don’t mumble,” Mother lectures, “and don’t be unappreciative.”

  “Thank you, Mother Dearest. This gift is kind beyond measure.”

  “You’re very welcome.” She has to be beaming. I can hear it in her voice.

  Tyra just shakes her head at me, grinning as she hands me the jewelry box. I don’t bother to open, so Tyra reaches for it. I let her open the box to reveal a silver chain with a ruby droplet that matches the broach on the dress. One of the rings completes the set, whereas the other ring houses a silver diamond.

  “Mother…” I’m almost afraid to ask, but there has to be a reason behind all of this, and she’ll get to it eventually. I might as well find out now instead of later. “I know the dress is for the ball, but why exactly do I need to stand out so much?”

  “Honey,” Mother says, her voice so sweet that her fangs might start to develop cavities, “do you know of a vampire named Constantine?”

  “No.”

  “No? He attends the academy with you.”

  “There are a lot of vampires here, Mother,” I say dryly.

  “I suppose so, but… Constantine isn’t like a lot of vampires.”

  “How so?”

  “He comes from a very rich and very powerful family.”

  Now it all makes sense.

  “All I am asking is for you to seek him out and consider him. That’s not too much for you, is it? I would think not.”

  “Of course it’s not,” I mumble. Before she can scold me again, I correct myself. “Of course it’s not.”

  “Very well. Enjoy the ball!” Mother hangs up.

  I toss my phone onto the bed and hold out the dress.

  “It�
��s glorious,” Tyra gushes, “and the necklace! The rings!”

  I shove the box off the bed. It tumbles to the floor as I pat my bed. Tyra perches beside me, and I rest my head on her shoulder.

  “Your mother is a bit overbearing, I’ll admit,” she starts, rubbing my back.

  “There’s a reason why I came to the academy,” I tell her.

  “Your mother didn’t approve?”

  “I had to convince her, but even if she would’ve tried to talk me out of it, I would’ve come. I… I wanted to get out from under her shadow. She means well, and I know she loves me, but…”

  Tyra brushes my hair back and pats my head. I sit up, back perfectly straight. That's one thing my mother would never allow—a slouched back. In some ways, she is very old-fashioned and has ideals like those from the thirteen-hundreds, although that does make sense. She was turned around that time period. It wasn't until recently that she fell in love with an incubus. They can make anyone pregnant, after all, even vampires, and now, I am one of those so-called living vampires.

  Mother had other lovers before Father, of course. You can’t live that long without outliving a dozen or more, but she won’t talk to me about them. I haven’t asked, and I honestly don’t want to know. She and Father are married. As far as I know, they do love each other, and I think Father does love me in his own way, but he is a demon, and that’s not always something that’s easy for me to accept. I mean, I can understand why an incubus would be drawn to a vampire. We live by taking the lifeforce of another. Some people believe vampires are a type of demon. I don’t know. I think vampires are separate from demons, but that’s not an argument I’m going to have with my father.

  “Sometimes, I think it would be nice to not have to worry about my parents and what they think,” Tyra says.

  I quirk an eyebrow. “You don’t worry about what your parents think.”

  "For the most part, yes, I do what I want, but they do think I need to listen and obey, and I know that they think that I'm only sixteen and, therefore, a child, but I know what I want."

  “And what is it that you want, Tyra?”

  “For the immediate future, to have a wonderful time at the ball.” She giggles. “As for the future, I know I don’t want to bother with any of the HEX Unite business.”