Academy of Magic Collection

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Academy of Magic Collection Page 77

by Angelique S Anderson et al.


  “Not to jinx it or anything,” he started. “But did the kid just kill the Angel of Death, or...? Because I’m seeing a pattern here. Like, with the fire and the Apocalypse clouds?”

  Frankie and Knox chuckled, and Eve smiled. “Samael isn’t dead, but he has been returned to Hell. For now. Our fight for today ended in victory, but we are far from having won.”

  “What happens next?” Knox asked. “If we find a cure…if we can reverse what Mama Luz’s drug did to me, will he stop coming?”

  “I don’t know,” Eve said, her dark brows darting together. “But I know Lilith, and as a mother, I know she will never stop pursuing you, even if we can repair the veil by reversing the catalyst effect of the drug that caused Red Fever. She and Samael now have proof that their line still exists, mixed with human blood, but still viable if it can be enhanced. This is Ghob’s grand plan—to eradicate humanity by eclipsing all traces of it.”

  Frankie shook her head. “A contagion that either brings about your First Blood ancestry, your Lilin ancestry as a child of Lilith and Samael, or a mixture of the—” she stopped and stared at Knox, then looked to Jack. “A mixture of bloodlines…the virus must get confused if there are traces of more than one bloodline.”

  “So the immune system either shuts down or goes into overdrive?” Jack asked.

  Knox nodded. “And we get the wasting sickness, or Ferals…at least until the body can’t take the cell reproduction that goes nowhere, and just…”

  “Explodes,” Frankie finished. “But I think we can stop this now,” she added, her mind clearly racing as she darted glances at everyone. “We just need to get to that tree on Scrapper Island. We need to find a way to kill it, and then at least we’ll be able to get ahead of the mutations.”

  “You found the tree?” Eve asked, her green eyes going wide. “With white, intoxicating flowers and red, spiny fruit?”

  “Yeah,” Knox replied, seemingly surprised. “The sap it produces is some kind of hallucinogenic. It lures people so the tree can…devour them,” he finished, his face contorting in what seemed like actual pain.

  Frankie grimaced. “But the water it’s sitting in, I don’t know, it’s like the fountain of youth or something. It heals any injuries you have.”

  Eve sighed, exhausted. “Ghob must have created another Tree of Life—or at least, an attempted one. But since it doesn’t exist within the Graced walls of Eden, it doesn’t quite work the same.”

  “How could she have done that if she was kicked out of there?” Max asked.

  Eve shook her head. “I don’t know. But when I was told to go back and retrieve the fruit from The Tree of Knowledge that Adam had dropped, I couldn’t find it. Uriel insisted before God that I was lying and must have eaten the rest.”

  I remembered Midori’s lesson during my honing class about this—about Adam dropping the fruit. I was about to tell Eve that Ghob had been let back in, but Leo beat me to it.

  “Ghob took it,” he said from the shadows he’d wedged himself into with Rhea, Bryce, Alec, and Alita, all of them sitting in self-imposed exile. “We’re all taught that the Sylph and the Salamander queen let her back in The Garden so she could take that discarded fruit and make a replica Garden…Eden’s Bluff,” he explained. “But they apparently didn’t know she’d start making Frankenstein plants with it too, and Uriel was being blackmailed by her and Samael to keep his mouth shut,” he added, nodding to me.

  I turned to Eve. “I didn’t know Samael was blackmailing him too until he confessed that tonight, but I did hear Ghob say she would tell her sister that he’s the one who let Lucifer into The Garden…which must mean by proxy because he’d let Samael in.”

  Eve nodded to Petra. “Please find out if Nicholas and Cora have reached Snake Island yet,” she asked, then turned to Tirius. “We’ll also need to ask Dr. Zee to arrange a meeting with the sisters. We’re going to need some help now that Samael knows about Halsey. And Djin will want an introduction.”

  “She said like, eight names right there,” Max whispered close to my ear. “But the sisters are the other Element-queens, right?”

  I smiled and gave him a discreet nod. “I think so.”

  “So, we’re doing what here? Going back to the place Frankie and the Grim Reaper Junior just escaped from?” Jack asked, jerking a thumb at Knox.

  “The island isn’t far from Uriel, so we’ll need to be careful,” Eve continued, sending Jack a sideways smile. He was about to say something else when Rhea started talking first.

  “They were just brainwashing us,” she said absently. “And they’ll just start brainwashing others at Eden’s Bluff now that we’re gone.” Alec sighed, then put an arm around her.

  “I just wanted to fit in,” Alita added. “Everyone was just so sure it wasn’t a big deal. But when we actually had to attack them, I just—” She met my eyes, hers brimming with tears as she pulled her red hair forward and tried to hide her face. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to kill anyone,” she added, turning then to Knox and Eve as tears streamed down her face. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  “I’ve put my faith in the wrong people before too,” Eve said. “I forgive you. All of you, if you truly believe you can see a clearer path now that your eyes are opened.”

  I wasn’t as gracious as Eve, nor did I think I ever could be. But I guess she did have thousands of years of experience. I decided I would try my best when everyone started coming forward, first to Eve, then to me, all of them with heartfelt apologies for leaving me in between the tears in the veil.

  I stiffened when Bryce approached me because he had been so adamant about eradicating humanity, but that all dissipated when he couldn’t even get any words out. He just broke down in sobs, and I let him hug me. We stood there for several seconds before he finally regrouped, and while I wasn’t really angry with any of them anymore, I would be lying if I said I trusted them. I knew I should, that I needed to if we were ever going to be able to work together to repair the veil and destroy the tree that was the cause of Red Fever…I needed to. But I didn’t want to.

  I watched as Alma and the others went to the new generation First Bloods of their line and spoke softly, offered comfort and guidance as Frankie, Jack, Knox, and Eve watched on, smiling. But in the deluge of emotion and newfound fellowship, Leo’s arms were still wrapped tightly over his chest. He’d already discarded the shirt Tirius had given him and was standing there as he’d arrived in just his black school pants and sandals. He paced slowly, turning away from Tirius when he approached, making his way to the edge of the cliff instead. Max stood across from me, watching it all like I was. We traded looks, and though there was so much we needed to discuss, we both knew it would wait. He nodded to me, and I started to walk toward Leo.

  He wouldn’t look at me as I stood next to him staring out over the moonlit sea. I didn’t know what to say—how to begin. I didn’t know if I forgave him, so I couldn’t even offer. I didn’t even know if he wanted to apologize, or even if I would believe him if he did. I didn’t know if anything he’d said to me was the truth. If anything between us at all had been real, or just the façade that the rest of the island had been.

  “You’d already taught yourself how to fly that night,” he finally said. “You just didn’t believe you could do it, but you could.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “I felt it when I kissed you,” he said without hesitation. “I knew then that Midori was right. You weren’t a Sylph at all…” Leo met my eyes just for a second, the muscles in his jaw tensed as he took a deep breath. “You were the brightest fire I’d ever seen.”

  He gripped his elbows tightly when a visible shiver gripped him. A shiver? I thought, as he stood next to me radiating heat as he always had. But before I could say another word, his wings shot out behind us, and he leapt from the cliff. He caught the cool breeze and soared under the moon, disappearing into the darkness.

  I stood there for several minutes watching the place in the sky where he ha
d been, wondering where he might have gone, or if he’d be back. I decided it didn’t matter because there were more important things I had to focus on now.

  “It’s hard to hate someone you can’t ever leave,” Knox said, walking up behind me with his arms crossed over his chest in the same way Leo’s had been. “And that’s the trick… You can’t leave, so you have to find a way to stop hating.”

  I looked up at him, his dark eyes and heavy brows seeming to hold up the weight of the world. He couldn’t have been thirty yet, but he seemed much older, and so tired.

  “I don’t know where he went, or if he’ll be back,” I said, turning my eyes to the stars again. “I didn’t get to tell him that I forgave him for betraying me.”

  “Do you?”

  I glanced at Knox quickly this time, surprised at the question. “I guess I don’t know.”

  A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Then that’s the only answer you need to work out.” I smiled at him as he gave my shoulder a squeeze. “And thanks, by the way…for going all supernova and saving my ass from the Angel of Death—apparently, my primordial…grandfather.” He sighed. “Everyone has a little crazy in their family, right?”

  I nodded as we turned to walk back to the others and smiled. “Have you ever had cabbage stew?”

  A note from the author

  Poisoned Garden is the second book in Tracy Korn’s new Sci-Fi / Fantasy series, First Bloods

  (books can be read out of order)

  Prequel 1: “Feral”

  Prequel 2: Nervous Water

  Book 1: Bad Seed

  Book 2: Poisoned Garden

  Other books by this author include The Elements series:

  AQUA

  TERRA

  AER

  IGNIS

  Don’t forget to sign up for Tracy Korn’s reader group and get some free welcome reads!

  http://www.TracyKorn.com

  Pin up Prep by Chelli Larsen

  Chapter One

  1950’s

  “Did you see this one, Ginger?” Betty hopped up from the bubblegum pink carpet to shove the glossy fashion magazine under the nose of her best friend. “Have you ever seen anyone as beautiful?” The wistful tone of her voice wasn’t lost on anyone as Betty continued to gush, “Her name is Gloria Graeme. Do you think she has one of those Bullet Bras on?”

  A derisive snort from the floor indicated what her other best friend, Francie, thought of Betty’s question.

  However, Ginger did her best to see the image that was far too close for her liking.

  Francie popped her gum as she replaced the cap on the nail polish that she had been using. “No, Betty Mae, her bosom is just magically formed into the shape of a cone. All the pin-up models are. Didn’t you know that?”

  Betty made a face at Francie. “You don’t need to be such a wet blanket, Fran! There is a lot of very important information in this magazine that a girl’s got to know.”

  Ginger, knowing better than to get in between her two friends when they were bickering, chose to be silent. Leaning back, she decided it was best to watch the show and only referee if absolutely necessary.

  Francie batted her eyes and spoke in a mockingly breathless tone. “You are so right. I mean, how could we possibly exist without knowing the answers to such earth-breaking subjects such as 'Hats to Make You a Beauty,’ and my personal favorite, ‘How to Stay Ten Pounds Thinner.’”

  Ginger perked up at that. She secretly would have loved to know the answer of how to stay ten pounds thinner. Jeepers, who was she kidding? Ginger would have loved to take off at least fifteen—mostly in her bosom.

  “Honestly, Betty, you don’t need to be pouring over those magazines,” Francie continued in her normal tone. “We don’t look anything like those girls, and I for one am glad of it.”

  Betty gasped dramatically. “Well, I’m not.”

  Francie’s brow rose sardonically. “Betty, what in land’s sake is wrong with being you?” With a sigh, Francie snatched the fashion mag out of Betty’s hands and began to read. “Look here, ‘Paris has decreed that yellow is the must-have color this summer!’” Francie lowered the magazine enough to roll her eyes at her friends. “And here all of these years I was under the impression that Paris was a city and not a person who could talk—who knew? How can a color be the bee’s knees? Oh! Here is an article over where the new waistline will be. I have news for you, your waistline hasn’t relocated to your knees. It’s the same place it always was. Honestly, Betty, this is just a pack of lies trying to sell you an idea that doesn’t exist.”

  Betty drew back, clearly affronted. “I don’t believe you. It’s true! Every last word of it. They can’t lie, Francie, it’s in print—black and white!”

  Francie huffed in exaggeration. “Betty, people don’t look like this. If you went all over Clarkstown, you would never find a girl who looked like Kim Novak, which I highly doubt is her real name! Or Marilyn Monroe. Sorry Betty, this is a fashion magazine meant to lead unsuspecting women to the shops to empty their pocketbooks.”

  Betty snatched the magazine back and straightened the bent pages with a glare towards Francie. “Honestly, Fran, you are ridiculous. You have bent the pages and look! You’ve even gotten polish on the cover! You’ve gone too far this time! Tell her, Ginger!”

  Ginger glanced up. It was obvious that neither one of her friends would be happy unless she joined the conversation. “I think you both sound like a bunch of babies.”

  Betty and Francie’s eyes widened, and then in solidarity, they stuck their tongues out at Ginger.

  Ginger shook her head and laughed. “It’s the truth.”

  “Who asked you, anyway?” Betty retorted.

  Ginger heaved a sigh, tugged at her oversized sweater, and got to her feet. With a pointed look, she replied, “You did. Now, as much as I enjoy the sound of the you two squabbling with each other—and I want it on record that I think that this is the stupidest argument yet—it’s time to make up. Francie, what does it matter if Betty loves the fashion magazines?”

  Betty beamed at Ginger as Francie grumbled something suspiciously vile under her breath. But Betty’s smile fell when Ginger added, “And Betty, everyone knows that the fashion mags are full of trumped-up lies.”

  Francie grinned smugly as Betty’s cheeks heated. She burst out, “They are not lies! There are several articles about how to take care of your face and skin, some recipes, and look, there is even a coupon for a pattern here in the back.”

  Francie made a face. “Goody! Since we are all such great seamstresses!”

  “Sarcasm notwithstanding,” Ginger interrupted as she took the magazine and began to flip through the pages, “I don’t think it’s all bad.”

  Ginger stopped at an advertisement near the back and began to read.

  Noting that Ginger seemed to have been sucked into something or another, Francie asked, “What is it?”

  Ginger glanced up. “Hm? Oh, here is an advert for that new top-secret boarding school they are building just outside of town—Leopold Preparatory Academy. I’ve always wondered why nothing was ever built out there. Daddy said that it was government land and that the mayor of Clarkstown would never part with it. I wonder what changed his mind.”

  “Or how much dough it took to change his mind,” Francie added shrewdly. “It’s awful pretty out there, and it’s near the beach.”

  The other girls huddled close as Ginger read the advertisement aloud, “‘For those likeminded individuals who want to become more than they ever hoped to be. Apply at 77 Robin Lane on the fourth day of May.’”

  Francie sank back down on the bubblegum-pink brocade bedspread that matched the carpet and drapes and feigned indifference. “What of it? It’s not like we want to go to any old academy. They likely are only interested in really smart kids.”

  Ginger shot Francie a quick glance, noting the way that Francie’s mouth was pulled into a tight line. “I don’t know. It’s not like any of us love St. Mary
Margaret High. It might be a nice change of pace to try something new. Next year we will be seniors. Maybe we should give it a try.”

  Betty, who was still staring at the article, didn’t say anything.

  Francie shook her head, looking away while rubbing her arms unconsciously. “It’s not that bad at St. Mary Margaret’s.”

  Ginger felt torn at her friend’s obvious discomfort. A part of her wanted to drop the subject just to see Francie revert to her same sarcastic, lovable self. But another part of her, that thirsted for knowledge and wanted to excel at everything, that part couldn’t pass up the opportunity to check out the new school.

  Ginger bit her lip with indecision and moved to sit by Francie. Cautiously, she said, “I don’t think we should be so quick to discount it. I am not saying that we have to go or anything. But it might be fun to check it out. It’s not like we are doing anything else this summer, or ever, for that matter. What could it hurt?”

  Francie didn’t say anything, but a worried look had settled on her pretty face.

  Betty came and sat beside them. “I heard that Dean Woods’ dad was chairman of the board. He is a big political man, isn’t he?”

  Dean Woods was also Ginger’s next-door neighbor, and the high school’s star quarterback.

  Ginger nodded and then, trying to defuse the sudden tension in the air, added, “Forget about it. The applications aren’t for a while anyway.” Pasting on a bright smile she really didn’t feel, Ginger added, “Francie, what plans did you have for the summer?”

  Francie shrugged. “The same thing we do every year I suppose. Go to the beach, the pool, shopping, rinse, repeat.”

  Betty tapped the closed magazine, refusing to let it go. “I want to make this summer count. I know you think I am nuts, but I want to make more of myself. I am tired of being a flat at St. Mary Margaret’s. I am tired of being the poor girl without any parents. If you are right and these pin-up girls invented themselves, why can’t I do that? Why can’t I be more? I want to start all over again, and maybe this academy is what I need. Come on, Ginger. Come on, Francie. Wouldn’t you like people to see you with the same admiration and respect that pin-up girls receive?”

 

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