Avalon Academy: Book One: a Paranormal Academy Romance

by Bailey Dark

  Grimoires are witch’s tools. They are very dangerous when in the wrong hands and sorcerers are forbidden in messing with them unless guided by a coven leader.

  “I’m doing a report for Professor Morris’s class, and I’m trying to get a head start since we have a few days without classes.”

  She tsks. “Well, you’ll never find a Grimoire in here. Any that the school has possession of are held in the Sacred library.”

  Right, the Sacred library is a secret room that is hidden underneath the school. It’s warded off so that no one but people with the proper credentials can enter.

  “Great. So, can you take me there?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” she responds incredulously. “No one can just enter the Sacred library. You have to have special permission to view any item from that room, which takes months.”

  “I don’t have months,” I snap.

  “I don’t know what to tell you. Not even the professors have access to that room.”

  She walks to a nearby desk and shuffles through a drawer. “Here is the paperwork that you have to fill out. If you do that and hand it directly to me, I will get it to the Chancellor immediately. You’ll have your response in four to six weeks.”

  “It’s for a research project. Surely a decision can be expedited.”

  “That’s never happened,” she shrugs. “Your best bet would to just make friends with a witch,” she chuckles, walking away.

  “Very helpful,” I bark to her, retreating.

  The only way I’m going to get into that room is by breaking in myself, but the question of where it is lingers. Secret room locations aren’t shared and even if they are, I don’t have the slightest clue how to break in. I can’t go against my agreement to not involve other people, and truly I don’t know anyone who’s stupid enough to help me with such a thing. If I get caught trying to sneak into that room of all places, it would be grounds for immediate expulsion.

  “Where is the secret room?” I ask aloud without thinking.

  Huffing, I shut the door and turn to walk away, but I haven’t even made it three steps and the sound of the drawer—the one I had just closed—sliding open stops me in my tracks. I turn around, looking back and forth down the aisles. Nobody is there. I walk tentatively toward the drawer and look down to see one card sitting on top of all the others.

  I pick it up and read the contents. Avalon Institute original blueprints. It’s the location of the school blueprints within this library. I don’t know whether to smile or shake in fear. How did that happen? I asked for help and here it was. But the source of the help has me thrown off guard and feeling uneasy. Is Avalon haunted?

  As much as I want to sit here and dissect every second of this, I know I’m running out of time. I grab the card, shut the door once more, and take off toward the back stacks, searching for row H. It’s clear in the back left corner, in a secluded spot of the library. Thankfully, no one else is back in that section, so there’s no chance of being questioned and having to lie. I can’t let anyone know what I’m up to.

  I scan the shelf from top to bottom and find nothing. Searching again, I find the same results. I huff out a breath of air, frustrated, as I’ve come exactly to the point where the card has directed me. I slump down the length of the stacks until I’m seated with my head against the books.

  “God damnit,” I say, slamming my head a little too harshly into the stacks. A book is knocked loose from the shelf and falls onto my head. “Son of a bitch.”

  I grab the book swiftly, feeling a little dizzy, and look for the spot from which it had fallen. Right away, I notice there is something behind where the book had been. I pull a rolled parchment from its hiding place, into my clutches.

  A map?

  At closer inspection, I realize it was the blueprints I have been searching for. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say aloud.

  I stuff the map into my bag and hurry from the library. My heart pumps harshly against my chest as the realization that something or someone is helping me on this quest. There is no other explanation for the events of the day. I’m contemplating all of the various possibilities when I round a corner and pass Lance and my alcove.

  I stop in my tracks when I see out of the corner of my eyes that someone is there. Sneaking back to peek, I see two people are locked in an intimate embrace. It’s Lance and Holly. My body locks up at the sight, but everything changes when their lips meet. His hands roam her curves and her fingers grip his hair tightly.

  Bile rises to my throat and tears well. Betrayal seeps into every pore. No matter how desperate I am to believe there was an explanation, the truth is in every kiss they share. This isn’t a case of “she kissed me and caught me off guard”, he is enjoying every minute of it. His tongue practically impales her mouth.

  The same way he’s kissed me a hundred times.

  I’d known Holly was after him, but never in a million years would I have thought he’d succumb to her. Lance had always been mine, or so I thought. Clearly, I’m wrong. I want them to know I’ve seen them. I want to throw the biggest fit and make him feel like complete shit—assuming that some part of him still cares. But I do none of that. The biggest part of me is determined to put as much distance between myself and Lance as possible.

  I want to cry into my pillow in the safety of my own room, where my humiliation won’t be witnessed by others. We’ve went this long keeping our trysts secret and I’m not about to out us now when it’s plain to see that I’m nothing to him. Nope. Self-preservation demands I get the fuck out of dodge before I’m seen.

  I run to my room, slamming the door shut behind me and throwing myself onto my bed. I weep into my pillow until there are no more tears to cry. How could he? What have I done to deserve such a bastard move? We’ve been friends our whole lives. Don’t I deserve more than that?

  Sadness quickly turns to anger. Fuck him. Fuck her. Fuck it all. I’m a gods damned champion, for fucks sake. I’m bigger than this and I have more important things to concern myself with. No matter how hurt I am, the truth of the matter is, I’ve been avoiding cementing our relationship for a reason. I might not have known what that was, but clearly my subconscious knew something wasn’t right. I am going to thank god that this is happening now, before the whole school knows we have been messing around. I am going to brush the dirt off my knees, get the fuck up and get this book. And once I do that, I am going to fly both middle fingers high in the sky while I tell Lance to take a jump off of Pike’s Peak.

  Okay, so maybe I’m not going to do that, but right now, I’m going to find a way into that damn room. Anything to erase the memory of the second largest betrayal of my life.

  Chapter Nine

  I scour the map for hours trying to devise the best way to get into the Sacred Library. It is located directly under the D’Morte Library, but how you get below ground is the question.

  There are dozens of doors in every corridor, but none that I have personally explored. If it in’t an entrance to a classroom or my dorm or any other public space, I don’t bother with it. Which makes this whole endeavor even more frustrating.

  I have some scouting to do, and although I’m reluctant to leave my room—afraid to have a run-in with Lance—I know I’m running out of time. I mark a few of the corridors that make the most sense for entry to the lower half of the school. The question of the day surrounds whether the door would be warded against entry, or if I’d at least get to the basement without trouble.

  I make a quick list of supplies I needed, including a flashlight, pen and paper, and my phone to take photos. I have no intention of actually trying to break into the library, I’m not foolish enough to attempt it tonight. No, this first adventure is just for scouting the scene and finding out what I’m up against. Chances are the break in will require additional preparation. There is no way that the school wouldn’t have security in place for the Sacred Library.

  I watch the clock until it read two o’clock. At this hour of the ea
rly morning I should go unseen. The halls are sure to be deserted and I can move about as I please. At least, I hope beyond hope I’m correct in that idea.

  I start in the corridor to the left of the D’Morte library. Every door is unlocked and none of them lead to the basement. Moving on, I go to the corridor to the right, and again nothing leads to the basement. Perhaps my initial assessment has been incorrect. Maybe thinking the entrance to the basement being by the library doesn’t make the most sense. Why would they want to make access to a secret room easy?

  They wouldn’t.

  Pulling out the map, I take another look and decide to go to a corridor on the complete opposite end of the school. One I’ve never been down before. It takes ten minutes to get to that end of the school. The place is massive. With the fact that it’s such a small population of students, the size of the building is ridiculous. But there is money in magic and the ostentatious school proves that point.

  When I finally get to the corridor, I open one room at a time until coming upon a door that is locked. Of course, it would be. I haven’t brought tools to try to unlock it. Tired and frustrated, I am about to give up and try again tomorrow when footsteps sound on the hallway leading in my direction. Panicking, I try to make a run for the nearest unlocked door, but I’m too late.

  A tall figure cloaked in black rounds the corner and stops abruptly.

  “Gwen?” a familiar voice asks.

  Tristan.

  “Were you following me?” I bark.

  “No. I- I wasn’t,” he says, sounding taken aback.

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same,” he shoots back. “It’s three AM, Gwen. Clearly, we have the same idea.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “And what pray-tell might that be?” I’m sure as hell not going to be the first one to give up my reasons for being here.

  “We are obviously both in search of something,” he says off-handedly.

  “Obviously,” I parrot. “What are you looking for?”

  There is no part of me that truly believes he would give up his reasonings for being here.

  “I’m looking for an entrance to the lower half of the school,” he admits, much to my shock.

  “F-oorrr what?” I draw out.

  He sighs. “There’s a secret library down there, and I need to get in.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, well good luck with that. You think you can just stroll in a secret library?”

  Knowing him, he can. His powers have already surfaced. I’m sure over the past five years he’s grown stronger and more powerful.

  “No, I don’t. I’m working to figure that problem out.”

  He’s thrown me off guard with how truthful he’s being. He hasn’t told me what he seeks in the library, so perhaps half-truths are allowed? He probably has a better idea than me about how to get in there. Maybe it’s okay for me to give him some information. The way I see it, I don’t have a choice. I know damn well I need help. There is no way I’m getting in there without any abilities.

  “It would appear you and I are seeking the same location,” I finally admit.

  I watch his head nod. “I figured as much. What have you found?”

  “A host of empty classrooms, a couple of janitorial closets, and a locked door.”

  “Have you tried to pick it up?”

  “Didn’t bring supplies.”

  “Why don’t you use your abilities?”

  “Why are you asking so many damn questions?” I shoot, sick of the back and forth. “You know as well as I do, I haven’t harnessed my abilities, or the door would already be open,” I grind out.

  “Alright, stand back. I’ll do it.”

  I do as instructed, moving out of the way. Tristan’s hand rises and turns slightly. The sound of the lock clicking open sounds.

  “It was that easy,” I say dryly.

  “I got that ability three years ago,” he shrugs.

  I want to smack him. He has no idea the salt he’s pouring in an already festering wound.

  “Now what?” I question.

  “I thought you didn’t want my help,” he says, sounding cocky.

  “It doesn’t look like I have a choice. We need the same thing.”

  He studies me for a moment, and I shift under his gaze. I hate being at his mercy, but if I want to finish this challenge, I need him.

  “All right. Follow me, Princess.”

  I grind my teeth. “Do you not call me that.”

  He laughs heartedly. “You haven’t lost your spunk.”

  “No. It’s just become more lethal,” I shoot at his back.

  I watch as his shoulders shakes in laughter.

  “Although I must say you’re abnormally hostile tonight. Everything okay?”

  He doesn’t seem to be mocking. His voice is genuine. Full of concern. It makes me instantly angry. I don’t want any pity from him, and I certainly don’t want him to act like he gives a fuck about me.

  “Let’s just cut the shit, Tristan. You and I both know you don’t care and neither do I. We’re both here to finish our challenge, and once it’s done, we’ll go our separate ways and complete the rest on our own. Let’s not pretend this is a new budding friendship.”

  He stops and turns towards me. He stalks so close that even in the darkened underbelly of the school, I can see his intense eyes.

  “I know you’re angry, Gwen. You have every right to be. But don’t mistake things. I do care,” he stresses, moving even closer. “I always have.”

  I take a deep breath, inhaling. His scent nearly makes my eyes roll into the back of my head. It’s masculine and delicious. Sandalwood mixed with something I can’t place. It’s all him and without my permission my body leans into it. Wanting…him.

  “Despite what you think, I still know you,” he continues, not seeming to notice the way my body is reacting to him. “I can tell you’re not okay. What’s wrong?” his eyes implore.

  The need to be honest with him is so intense, I can barely contain myself. I’m scared about the Trail of Crowns, I’m sad about how things were between us now, and I’m pissed at Lance. I am a cacophony of emotions and it has me off balance.

  “I really don’t want to talk about it. It’s been a really bad day, and I just wanna get this over with and try to get a couple hours of sleep,” I say, hoping that will placate him enough to drop it.

  It doesn’t.

  “What did Lance do?” he says with cold fury.

  How does he know that it had anything to do with Lance? I mean, it’s part of the issue, but not all of it. In fact, it’s the smallest piece of the current issue, which is telling in and of itself. Perhaps that should say volumes about my true feelings toward Lance. I should care more about what I’d seen.

  “Why do you assume it’s Lance?”

  “Because there have only been two people in this entire world I’ve known you to care that much about. You’ve never allowed things to fester. The way you look right now, this is about him as he’s one of the two.”

  “And who’s the other?”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore,” he says. “Are you going to deny this is about him?”

  I shake my head unwillingly. Something about Tristan has always broken down my barriers and this time is no different. I’m ready to spill my guts to him. I’m ready to open myself up and bare all my deepest hurts and fears to him. Nobody, not even Lance, has ever made me feel like this.

  Lance’s betrayal stings, and I want—no, need—Tristan to validate my feelings.

  “Lance and I have been secretly… I don’t know…dating?” I say on a question. “We haven’t officially labeled anything.”

  “Why not?” he questions.

  Because something inside of me has been broken since you left. Because I never felt about him the way I felt about you.

  The words are screaming in my head, begging to be let loose, but I say none of it aloud. “That was my choice,” I say instead. “I didn’t wa
nt to ruin our friendship before I was certain I wanted more. I thought it was an exclusive deal, though.”

  “I see,” he says, clipped. “I never would’ve thought you and Druitt.”

  Tristan’s reaction to the news gives me satisfaction. He doesn’t like it. That much is clear in the way his eyes are narrowed, and how frown marks line his mouth.

  “He’s upset with me about a couple of things. We had a slight falling out over the past couple days, but nothing that we couldn’t work through,” I go on, hoping to further Tristan’s jealousy. “I thought he loved…”

  “You,” Tristan says, cutting off my sentence.

  I nod. “How did you know?”

  “He always has. It’s been plain to see ever since I’ve known him. What happened?” he presses.

  “I caught him and one of our classmates making out. In our secret alcove of all places.” His shoulders straighten and the fury I thought I saw earlier intensifies.

  “I’ll break his neck,” he growls.

  My hand shoots out against his firm chest.

  “No. I’ll take care of it. It’s my issue. I should’ve never told you. Please, don’t go anywhere near him,” I beg.

  He brings his hand up and lays it on top of mine. A chill shoots down my spine and butterflies take flight in my belly. I hate the reaction he still draws from me, even years later. He doesn’t deserve it.

  “I know I hurt you and I will live with that forever, but I’m not about to stand around and let Lance hurt you too. You need to be able to trust someone right now, and if it can’t be me, it needs to be him.”

  The passion in this voice shocks me and warms me to my core. Despite everything he’s done, the pull to him is a living breathing thing. It beckons and pushes me into him. Before I’m able to recognize that I’m not imagining it—that I am actually moving toward him—it’s too late. I sweep into his arms and my lips crash to his.

  Everything around us ceases to exist as our tongues collide expertly. It feels as though we have been doing this forever. His moan of pleasure coaxes me to push things further. I run my hands through his hair, pulling gently.