Light Fae Academy: Year Three

by Nala Kingsley

  “Zoth broke your heart?”

  “I know. Maybe I’m a little overly dramatic considering we weren’t dating, but it really hurt. I thought about not letting him know how much it affected me. I wanted to prove to him that he meant nothing to me. I set up to do a video chat with another guy, and I couldn’t do it.”

  “You loved him that much,” I murmur.

  Her lips quirk. “Not at first, I couldn’t do it, but the more I thought about how much I cared for him and how much he hurt me, and you better believe that I was able to do it. Only…”

  “Only what?”

  “He ended up being the one on my screen. He hacked the program so that if I ever did that, it would cut to him. And we started to talk about feelings actually. Yes, demons have feelings, and we worked things out, and we’ve been together ever since.”

  “Oh, wow.”

  “A lot to take in, huh?” She sips her drink and eyes me over the glass. “What do you think?”

  “I think that I’m hurt that you didn’t just tell me all of this when it was happening.”

  “Seriously?”

  “You don’t give me enough credit.”

  “You’re thinking Bay will be Bay, aren’t you?”

  “It’s the truth. Yes, I’m thinking that, and Bay will always be Bay.”

  She giggles, and I laugh too, but then, after she finishes her drink, she sneaks out despite curfew to see her demon boyfriend.

  I don’t tell her this, but I’m worried. Zoth toyed with her heart once. What if he decides to use her again? Bay clearly is devoted to him, but does he deserve that loyalty?

  Chapter 20

  In bed, I toss and turn. Bay hasn’t always made the best of choices, but she’s a good fairy. Deep down, she’s not all dark. She made the same mistake I did in being friends with Thistle. I didn’t care for Spring from the start. And I was wrong about Bracken, but Bay was right, so we’re both not the best at judging people. Despite that, I’m going to do what I can to find the killer. I want to prove that Damon isn’t the killer, so why not also prove Zoth’s innocence at the same time.

  But, I don’t want to do this alone, and as much as I don’t think it’s possible that Bracken had anything to do with the murder, I don’t want to go to him for help.

  Not him, but there is someone I have in mind.

  Two someones.

  I’m done trying to investigate murders by myself. Yes, I had asked Thistle to help me, but he had been the murderer, and I had done a lot of investigating all by myself. Going to see the humans affected by the humans killed…

  A tear runs down my face, and I don’t bother to wipe it away.

  When morning comes, I pretend I’m not feeling well while the others all leave for their classes. I nod to Bracken, who lingers by my window, not to be a creep but to see if I’m just going to be late.

  “I’m not up for classes today,” I inform him.

  “You aren’t going to investigate, are you?” he asks.

  “Me?” I open my eyes wide, hoping he doesn’t realize I’m not directly answering his question.

  He chuckles and flies off.

  Quickly, before the boys can head to their classes, I do a three-way call to both Sage and Damon. Damon answers first.

  “Rosemary.”

  “Hi, Damon. I know we haven’t talked much, and I already apologized, but I can’t say I’m sorry enough—”

  “Rosemary?” Sage asks.

  “Why is he on the line?” Damon asks.

  “Funny,” Sage says dryly, “I could’ve asked the same thing.”

  “I know. I know. I didn’t want to call one of you before the other. I need to talk to you both.”

  “Let me guess,” Damon says, his tone similar to Sage’s. “You want to investigate the murder.”

  I blow out a breath. “I do.”

  “Why?”

  Sage's simple question should be easy to answer, but it's not. Nothing with me is ever simple, or so it seems.

  “Why?” I repeat. “Because I have to at least try. I don’t know why, but I just feel compelled to solve this. It’s stupid. It’s almost wrong what I did last year. I should’ve wanted to help the humans once the serial killer started to terrorize them, but no. I waited until Holly was killed and Cosmo was hurt. I hate that about myself. It’s one of my biggest regrets.”

  “Is it now?” Sage asks coolly.

  “One of them and far from the only one. I regret hurting you both. I hate that we fought, and I…” I swallow hard. “I know I can’t take back what I said, and I know that some of my words hurt you. I hate that we’re at odds. You both mean so much to me, and I know you hate each other, and I hate that you do.”

  “We aren’t alike,” Sage says.

  “Aside from wanting you,” Damon says.

  I wince. Of course he would say wanting you and not wanting to be with you.

  It hurts to ask this right now, and maybe I should focus on the reason behind the call, but I blurt out, “Honestly, guys, why do you even want to be with me?”

  “Maybe because you’re frustrating,” Damon says.

  “Your eyes light up when you’re passionate about something,” Sage says.

  “You have a tiny wrinkle between your eyebrows when you try to figure something out,” Damon adds.

  “It doesn’t hurt that you’re hot.”

  “That’s true, but you also want to try to change the world.”

  “You’re asking for help with this is great. I love that. I really do,” Sage says, but I can hear the unspoken but.

  “You don’t try to change me,” Damon adds. “You accept me for who I am. You jumped out of a plane without being able to use your wings. You trusted me. That means everything.”

  “You were my first,” Sage blurts out as if he doesn’t want to be undone.

  “Dude, it took you until now to have sex?” Damon asks with a laugh.

  “I don’t sleep around with every fairy who looks at me.”

  “I don’t either.”

  “I don’t go around and kiss them all either.”

  “Hmm.” Damon sounds more amused than anything. “How do you become better at something unless you practice?”

  “Maybe you should practice being faithful.”

  “When you aren’t in a relationship—”

  “Don’t you want to be in one?” Sage interjects.

  “Boys, can we not fight?” I ask desperately.

  “I don’t think I like your judgmental tone,” Damon says.

  “I don’t care what you like or don’t like. I don’t want you to hurt Rosemary.”

  "No, because that's your job, right? You mistakenly thought she was Bay. You made a mistake, not her, and who did you blame?" Damon asks.

  “To be fair, afterward, Rosemary admitted that she acted like Bay to get me to like her. She even said she wasn’t sure who she was so how exactly you can try to twist that around on me—”

  “You could’ve helped her to find herself,” Damon says simply.

  “Is that what you call that stunt?” Sage snorts.

  “I’m beginning to regret calling you both,” I say with a groan.

  “Why? You know you miss me,” Damon says. I can just picture his grin.

  “You want to investigate the murder,” Sage says, bringing the conversation back on track.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “I have to say that I don’t know if I can work with Damon,” Sage says.

  “I’m not the happiest about that idea either,” Damon admits.

  “Look, I understand that. I really do, but I’m going to investigate with or without you, so… I just need to know if you’re in or out, and trust me, if you’re not going to be able to stop fighting, then just be a man and be out. I don’t need that to worry about on top of the murder.”

  “I’m in,” Damon and Sage say at the same time.

  “Good. Do you think we’ll have to wait until tonight to start?” I ask.

  �
��The security guards are all over the place,” Sage muses.

  “Yeah, but Bay’s able to get around them and leaves to be with Zoth every night,” I say. “Well, almost every night, so it is possible to do what we want after hours.”

  "Potentially what we want," Damon points out. "It would be better to do things during the day, when it's light out. We need to see the evidence. At night, too many things can go wrong."

  “For once, I agree with Damon,” Sage says.

  “Oh, good. Nice to know you aren’t a complete idiot.”

  I roll my eyes. “To look around during the day would mean disguises or…”

  “What’s your idea?” Sage asks.

  “And why do I have the feeling I’m not going to like it?” Damon asks with a groan.

  I just smile. “Oh, boys, don’t worry. This’ll be fun!”

  Chapter 21

  “You really need to get a new definition of fun,” Damon grumbles.

  I smile at him and place my hands on his shoulders. “It’ll be fun for me. I guess I should’ve clarified that.”

  “This is not one of your better ideas,” Sage mumbles.

  I turn so I can see them both. “It’ll work. It’ll be fine.”

  “Fine is a word that I don’t think I like associated with you anymore,” Damon jests.

  My smile returns. “If you’re cracking jokes, then you aren’t that upset about this. All you have to do is distract the teachers. It has to be a large enough commotion that it gets as many of them out of the office building as possible.”

  “How are you going to slip in undetected?” Sage asks.

  I wave my hand. I’m going to shapeshift into something small.”

  “A bug of some kind?” Damon guesses.

  I nod. “I was thinking a fly.”

  “Don’t you dare get swatted,” Sage growls.

  “Don’t worry. That is not on the to-do list.” I step back and admire my handiwork. “You both look like you’ve been through a war.”

  “I still say you could’ve just let us have a few real swings,” Damon says.

  I almost want to reach up and rub his swollen, split lip, only he’s not really injured. The entire campus has been spelled to remove magic so that any kind of glamor spells wouldn’t work, at least while out of doors. We have to have them look like they’re hurt badly without actually hurting them. Makeup is the best way to accomplish that.

  “What you two do to make sure they’re distracted is up to you. Personally, I think that shouting and pretending to throw jabs will work given how you two look, but you also have to do your best to avoid the guards. If they take you away too fast—”

  “We’ll give you the time you need,” Damon promises.

  “Don’t make a vow you can’t keep,” Sage tells him. “We don’t know how long she’ll need.”

  “I’ll be in and out as fast as I can, I promise. And I won’t get caught. Worse comes to worst, I’ll leave before I finish the spell.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be able to once you’re inside?” Damon asks.

  "They have to still be doing spells themselves, and the classrooms do allow spells, obviously, because we need them for class. The entire campus isn't magic-free. That would be a disaster. Besides, a spell would be the last resort. I'm hoping that the security guards and police missed something in their search of Professor Luna’s office. If I can’t find anything, only then will I do a spell.”

  “You would be amazing at chess,” Sage murmurs. “Always thinking a million steps ahead.”

  “I try. Now, go.”

  Sage leaves first, but Damon hesitates.

  “I promise you now that if we do ever have sex, that I will think a million steps ahead and give you more pleasure than you think possible.”

  “Would you now?” I murmur. “Is that all I am to you, Damon? Someone to have sex with and then to be brushed aside?”

  “Do you think that of me?” he asks, his eyes bright. He doesn’t look hurt at all by my question.

  I swallow hard and drop my gaze. I do not think that of him at all, and the way he’s staring at me makes me feel as if he can see straight through me to my very soul.

  “Come on, man, before I rip off your wings,” Sage growls from outside.

  I giggle. “Go. Don’t hit him too hard.”

  Damon holds out his hand. “Who says I’m going to hit him?”

  “Hmm.”

  He winks and then flies out of there.

  Magic still works inside the cottage, thankfully, and I shapeshift into a bug. The first class of the day should start within a half-hour. We figure it'll be easier to get the professors out of the office building now versus later during the day with classes resumed, mostly because there aren't as many guards around before the first class is to begin. Right now, our biggest fear lies with the guards, not the professors. If the guards think we're up to something, we might be arrested, and I will not go to Dark Fae Penitentiary for trying to solve a crime.

  Even if I am willing to commit a crime or two in order to solve the murder.

  Look at me. Justifying crimes with ease. I really do have some darkness inside me, and honestly, this bit of darkness doesn’t alarm me one bit.

  As a fly, I dart out of my cottage. Just having both boys in my room had given me all kinds of ideas, reminding me of dreams that have long since gone away. I think the stress of everything has affected both my sleep and my subconscious. I’ve been eating better, but my sleep has gotten so much worse lately.

  I make sure that I fly about haphazardly. Flies don’t always fly in straight lines, after all, and I do not want anyone to notice me. The boys are just ahead, throwing real punches, and more are connecting than not.

  Their shouts overwhelm me, and I don't bother to listen to their words. Already, several professors fly out of the building. Guards are heading this way too, and I ignore all of them and head straight to Professor Luna’s office. I had been here once a few weeks ago, when I asked her if she thought I needed a tutor because I wasn’t doing nearly as well in her course as I would have liked.

  “You are blocked, that’s clear to see,” Professor Luna said.

  “How do I get unblocked?”

  “Something is preventing you from opening up your mind fully. Magic can only do so much if the heart isn’t willing.”

  “I’m willing!”

  "Perhaps your subconscious isn't. Fear can also hold back a great many fairies."

  “I don’t have anything to fear,” I protested.

  She just tilted her head. “Being honest with oneself is the single most important tool a fairy can use.”

  “Even more than magic?” I asked, my tone becoming a little drier than it should’ve considering who I was addressing.

  “Yes, even more so than magic because if you aren’t honest with yourself about why you are using this spell or that magical technique, then why should you be doing that spell at all?”

  I took her words to heart, or at least I tried to, but I think my block comes from my heart. I can’t open that entirely, which is why I can’t pick one of the boys. Fear is affecting me, even if I try to pretend it’s not.

  Her office is smaller than some of the other professors’. Pictures of landscapes and even seascapes line the walls, hung up by vines. It’s so beautiful. Her desk and chair are both made from tree stumps, the desk obviously a much higher one. Folders and papers sit in neat piles on her desk, and I grimace. As a fly, I can’t possibly try to rifle through them. Using shapeshifting might get me caught, but I’m already thinking I’ll have to use other magic in order to learn what went on shortly before Professor Luna died.

  I can’t hear anyone else nearby, and I quickly turn back into myself, although I try to keep my height about half what it normally is so that I can hide easier if someone were to come in here.

  As I suspected, the papers and folders provide no information that could give a hint as to what caused her to be killed.

  There’
s a tiny engraving on the tree trunk. It almost looks like a lock, and I use the vine from the wall holding up the pictures to form a kind of key to press against the lock mechanism. A tiny part of the bark opens up like a drawer. Inside is…

  Nothing. Nothing at all. If it contained anything important, I'd never know. Did the police or guards find it? Had the killer taken it? Maybe Professor Ivy herself removed whatever had been in here.

  Voices seem to be growing louder. I don’t have much time. I might not have any time, but I’m not leaving just yet.

  Quickly, I shove the bark drawer back into place and close my eyes. My breathing slows as I focus on my beating heart, the sound of it drawing me deeper and deeper into my subconscious even while I remained of sound mind.

  Illumination is difficult enough when you are trying to tap into the innermost parts of yourself, but that’s not what I’m attempting here. No, I’m trying a form of illumination in an attempt to get into the professor’s head. The last time she was here or maybe the last time she taught class… or maybe her last moments. Whatever I can manage.

  Now, I focus on my nose, on the scents in the office, picking out the aroma that had been hers. Her voice echoes in my mind, and abruptly, it feels as if the ground opens up beneath me. I’m falling into someone or something.

  Professor Luna. She’s dead, but her consciousness had been here. She had been here. If I can just go back…

  The falling sensation continues until abruptly, I feel jerked about. My mind’s eye opens, rather than the eyes on my face. Although I can’t make out where I am, I somehow know I’m in her mind, seeing what she saw, which is not one but two shadowy forms.

  I’m starting to slip, to leave her head even as I desperately cling on. Where is she? And the forms, can I tell anything about them? No, no, I can’t. My desperation proves my downfall. All I can sense is her sheer fear. Professor Luna, in her last moments, knew she was going to die.