Academy of Magic Collection

by Angelique S Anderson et al.

  “Family drama,” Alice said. “Surely you’ve heard of our relations, the other Wardwells in Connecticut? I believe our nephew Hunter will take part in the exams later this week.” Alice rolled her eyes in a gesture that seemed out of character from what I knew of her. “We don’t speak, but Cynthia, Alex’s aunt, sent a letter boasting about Hunter’s plans. She always loves to rub in Hunter’s achievements.”

  I blinked, not understanding.

  “It seems,” my mother said, her eyes on me, “that the Wardwells have had a bit of a family feud for the last few decades. One side of the family has been allowed to attend Spellcasters, while the other side has been barred from admittance.”

  “The school has barred our branch of the family tree,” John said. “However, after last night, I believe the academy should allow my son to test. He saved a sorcerer spy when none of the PIA healers, Alice, or I could. We’ve been training him as if he would attend for two years. Healing is his most advanced magical discipline, but I would wager to guess that he is among your best students in many others too.”

  My stomach tightened. John’s words sounded like a challenge. I’d always thought of myself as being one of the top incoming students, if not the top. And yet, despite the fact that I had an inkling Alex would give me a run for my money, I wanted him to attend the academy.

  I was competitive, but I also liked a challenge.

  My hand found Mother’s arm. “You have to let him try. He saved Father.”

  Across the table Alex’s blue eyes widened at my show of support.

  “I’m aware of that, Diana. However, there are other matters to take into account. Like how admitting the boy would go against the contract Headmaster Bell signed at the school’s inception,” she paused, her lips pursed in an expression that indicated she was weighing out the pros and cons of a choice.

  The pressure in the air mounted, and Alex squirmed in his seat as Mother’s dark eyes appraised him.

  Finally, Mother’s expression softened. “But I believe you’re right. This boy earned a spot at the entrance examination. And should he pass it, then he is Spellcasters material. This branch of the Wardwell family may consider their banning null from this time forward.”

  Alice clapped her hands, and the tension in John’s face melted.

  “What happens if I don’t pass the tests?” Alex asked. It was the first time he’d spoken since I entered the room.

  Mother stared at him, her gaze unyielding. “If you do not pass the examinations, then I will have no reason to allow you into Spellcasters. Unless a student claims the legacy route, which you cannot do, they must pass the three entry exams. So, might I suggest when you show up at the academy later this week, you bring your ‘A’ game if you truly want to attend.” She cleared her throat and her eyes shifted to Alex’s parents. “I hope you’ll understand. I appreciate you saving my husband’s life, but there is only so much I can push the needle. I cannot allow an unprepared young adult to join the halls of Spellcasters. It would be doing my country a disservice.”

  My mind flitted to Jackson, who I was sure hadn’t excelled in his testing. I suspected he’d only been admitted because his parents, legacies in their own right, donated large sums to the academy. I would never contradict Mother in front of the Wardwells, but it would definitely be wrong if Alex didn’t get accepted after Jackson weaseled his way into Spellcasters.

  John’s fists clenched into a tight ball. “There’s no need for concern. You’ll soon see for yourself that my son is the best thing to ever hit Spellcasters Spy Academy.”

  Chapter Five

  “Tabitha! Phoebe!” I ran across the lawn towards the cherry red car coming up Spellcasters’ driveway. My best friends stuck their hands out the windows and waved.

  “Di!” Phoebe exclaimed when they got closer. “I can’t believe we’re here!”

  I beamed at them, so happy to see them for the first time since we graduated high school two weeks ago. “Did your parents let you borrow that car, Tabby?”

  Tabitha Goode, one of my best friends since I was young, twirled her long black hair around her finger and gave me a sly smile. “Nope. This is a ‘welcome to Spellcasters’ gift. They’re positive that I’m a sure thing.”

  I had little doubt that she was right. Both Tabitha and Phoebe were descendants of Salem witches, a prestigious claim in the witching community. Their parents were also alumni of Spellcasters and retired spies turned wealthy entrepreneurs. Knowing what to expect, the Goodes and Peudators had trained Tabby and Phoebe nearly as rigorously as I had trained.

  “Sweet!” I said. “I was gonna ask Mother to let us borrow some school bikes to get to Wandstown, but this is way better.”

  “What do you say we head straight there?” Phoebe slapped the side of the car. “We didn’t have anything planned inside, did we?”

  I glanced back at the school. Since we’d come home two days ago Father had been recovering in our family suite. Guilt shot through me at the idea of leaving him, but just yesterday he’d insisted that my friends should still come to celebrate my birthday before the entry exams took place. Even if he couldn’t take us all out like we had planned, he still wanted me to have fun. Like always, he wanted what was best for me and for me to live my life to the fullest.

  I pasted a smile on my face. “Nope, my parents will still be here when we get back.” Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the cash Father had given me to blow in Wandstown. “Good thing I brought this outside with me.” I waved the two Benjamins in front of my friends’ faces.

  Both their mouths fell open.

  “Well, get in, Wake!” Tabitha revved her engine. “We’ve got a lot of celebrating to do!”

  “I just don’t understand why a guy always has to be a hot bad boy, a hot super nerd, a hot jock, or a hot Prince Charming.” Tabitha rolled her eyes as we exited the movie theater after a double feature full of licorice, popcorn, and sodas as big as our heads. “It’s stereotyping at its worst! I mean I’ve never met a guy exactly like any of those.”

  Phoebe chuckled, which only incensed Tabitha further.

  “I mean honestly, though, have you ever met a guy that was so one way or the other and hot? That’s another thing. Why is it that absolutely no teenagers in the movies are ever just average looking?” Tabitha arched an eyebrow, daring us to contradict her.

  As usual, I took the bait. “Actually . . . I might have met someone straight out of the movies.”

  My friends’ mouths dropped open, and a smile split my face. I loved shocking them and rarely got the chance to do so. “Remember when I told you guys about my father’s accident?”

  They both nodded and their expressions morphed into ones appropriate for a sad situation.

  “Well, he had to see non-PIA healers. A family outside of Boston, unrelated to Spellcasters—well . . . kinda unrelated. A part of their family are alumni and active spies. That branch is the Wardwells of Connecticut.”

  Tabitha’s eyes lit up. She recognized the name as I had the night Mother and I had warped to Massachusetts.

  “Anyway, this other branch of the Wardwell family tree has never been to Spellcasters. It was a dad, a mom, and their son and the son was hot with a capital ‘H’. Not only that, but he seemed nerdy too. Definitely the best healer I’ve seen of our age ever, and you guys know I’ve seen a lot of smart initiates coming through here. He was just like those super nerds in the movies—hot, intelligent, and quiet.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Tabitha crossed her arms over her chest. “If this guy exists, why wouldn’t you have told us about him when you mentioned your dad?”

  That was a great question. I’d called my friends the day after my birthday and told them what had happened to Father. I had mentioned that we were outside of Boston and that my birthday celebration—which was supposed to happen that very day—would have to be delayed. But I hadn’t mentioned Alex Wardwell at all.

  I shrugged. “I guess I was . . . processing everything.” I
t wasn’t a lie. Although days had passed, I still found it hard to believe what had happened to Father. And even more so that a young man had been the one to save him. My friends remained silent. Apparently, they didn’t know how to respond to that, although I noticed that Tabitha still regarded me with skepticism as we started walking.

  We’d gone down a couple more streets, and I was about to suggest entering the candy shop when a shrill voice caught my attention.

  “I told you I didn’t want to go to that dingy cabin, Jagger! It’s really not as impressive as you think. Just a rundown shack.” Miss Iris rounded the corner we were approaching on the opposite side of the street. As she spoke she yanked her arm away from her boyfriend, the shifter who had sucked her face off in the café. “Why are you pushing so hard to go there?”

  The shifter glanced around frantically at her outburst and moved closer to her, clearly about to answer, when Phoebe, who was generally oblivious to drama around her, began to wave enthusiastically. “Miss Iris! Hi!”

  Miss Iris whipped around, and I cringed. Even from a good distance away I could see the stark red blotches marring her cheeks. The couple had been fighting pretty seriously.

  At the sight of us, however, the angst painted across her face vanished and she smiled. “Girls! I was wondering when I’d see you here for our Diana’s birthday!”

  Miss Iris crossed the street, leaving her boyfriend behind with a scowl planted on his lips. When it was obvious she intended to talk to us for a while, the shifter took a seat on the bench behind him, apparently content to wait it out by himself rather than chat.

  “Did you stop by the café already?” Miss Iris said when she reached us.

  “No,” Tabby said. “We planned to go by later, for an early dinner.”

  Miss Iris wrapped her arms around me. “Good. You girls do that. I’ll tell Javi to make sure you get an appetizer on the house.” She pulled away from the embrace and looked me straight in the eye. “Are you feeling better, love? Your heartache dulled?”

  It touched me that she’d just been fighting with her boyfriend and yet, here she was, worried about me.

  “Hey Iris! We’re gonna be late!” Jagger yelled from across the street.

  The café owner shot the shifter a scathing look. “Oh so now you’re concerned about being on time?” She turned her attention back to us and loosed a frustrated breath. “I better get going. He’s being very . . . temperamental today. I don’t understand what’s going on, but it’s giving me emotional whiplash. A few minutes ago he was talking about swinging by Butcher cabin before our movie date to see if he can restore it. But then just yesterday he was saying how he should buy a nice house in the town to impress Father.”

  I cringed, and Miss Iris gave me a knowing look. “Exactly. I haven’t told him yet that dear old Dad is less than taken by shifters. It never seems like a good time to bring it up.” She sighed heavily. “But when will it ever be, really? I suppose that after making love he’d at least be in a good mood, but that would be such a downer.”

  My friends and I averted our gazes. We weren’t virgins but hearing an adult you respected talk about their sex life was different than talking about it to your friends. Unfortunately, my eyes latched right onto Jagger, who was staring intently at us and mumbling like a crazy person, which wasn’t any better.

  Miss Iris’ eyes widened as she realized what she’d said. “Oh lord. That was an overshare, wasn’t it? I’m sorry, girls. I’m a rambler, just ask the wine club ladies. Forget I said anything and go have your fun.”

  She gave us each a hug before walking back across the street to her boyfriend. After they disappeared I turned to my girlfriends. “Did that seem weird to you guys?”

  Tabitha nodded, watching as the couple walked down the street, bickering once again. “You mean that he didn’t introduce himself to us? Or that he grumbled not-so-quietly the entire time she was talking to us? I mean—good Gods—it’s not like we’re some hot guys who are gonna steal his girlfriend away.”

  “He did seem a little abrasive,” Phoebe said.

  Definitely that, but there was something else strange about that whole ordeal too.

  “Whatever, they’re just two adults with issues,” Tabitha said. “Let’s go get lunch. I’m starving.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me down the street alongside her.

  But whatever was going on with Miss Iris and Jagger felt deeper than typical relationship issues. I shot a glance at Phoebe, who was more affected by other people’s emotions and troubles than Tabitha. She too looked carefree, like she’d already moved on too. I shook my head, trying to clear all the weirdness out. Then again maybe I just felt like the fight was heavier because I’d just gone through a breakup and Miss Iris and I had a special bond?

  Tabby and Phoebe started discussing all of the specialty candy they would buy. Unable to filter through what I’d seen with Phoebe and Tabitha chattering, I forced myself to set the scenario aside. Whatever had been off about that situation—if it had been anything at all—I’d figure it out later.

  Chapter Six

  Two days later the shriek of Mother’s teakettle woke me. I shot up in bed to sit upright. “Oh my God! Get up! Get up! Get up! Today’s the day!” My pitch rose higher with each sentence until I practically sounded like a deranged mouse.

  On the foldout couch across my room, Tabitha groaned and threw a decorative pillow in my direction. Since she wasn’t looking, it missed by a good four feet, but the middle finger she flung at me next was dead on.

  “Shut up, you big nerd!” Tabitha said, while Phoebe buried her face in her pillow. “We have hours until the testing starts. I don’t know why you’re so excited, anyway. You’re gonna get in no matter what.”

  My stomach clenched. Even though Tabitha didn’t mean that I was getting a free pass—she knew better than that—it still sounded like she’d meant that. And I hated when people thought I could just rest on my connections to get into Spellcasters. It belittled all the work I’d done.

  I’d studied hard for well over a year. I’d snuck forbidden texts out of Mother’s library, an act that would have severe repercussions if she found out. I’d stayed up late, woken up early, and made Father run me through drills to ensure that I excelled.

  I was better than my friends by a long shot, and that was saying something because they were damn skilled witches. In fact, at all the meetups and functions I’d attended, I had always been the strongest witch of my age. At least, that was true until I met Alex Wardwell.

  Who I’ll see again today.

  A grin spread across my face. Mending my broken heart with someone hotter and more driven than Jackson by my side was an extremely appealing prospect. I flung my covers off and strode across the room toward where my friends slept near the window. Once there, I ripped the curtains back, allowing light to stream into my tower bedroom.

  “Rise and shine, sleepyheads,” I said, my voice cheery just to piss Tabby off.

  “I hate you,” Tabitha muttered, flinging her face into her pillow. There were a few muffled sounds—a stream of profanity, no doubt. While Tabby fought the inevitable, Phoebe gave in, rose, and shuffled to the bathroom.

  “What do you guys think the first test will be?” I asked. Despite Mother being the headmistress for the last thirteen years, when it came to the entrance exams she kept me in the dark like any other hopeful initiate. In fact, other than the daily goings-on of Spellcasters, I knew nothing about the rituals that I would undergo this year. Mother insisted on maintaining an even playing field and I preferred it that way too. Not only could I tell others that the advantage they imagined I had was almost nonexistent, but not knowing what was coming was more exciting.

  “Who the hell knows,” Tabitha said, admitting defeat and rolling onto her back. “Don’t they change it every year?”

  I jumped on the hideaway, making the mattress bounce. She swatted at me but missed. “Yeah, but we should still brainstorm. We only have three hours until the first exam be
gins!”

  Tabitha released a dramatic sigh. “You’re such a competitive psycho, Di.”

  “You love me for it. And you know my mother’s motto is expect the unexpected.” I picked up a pillow and swatted Tabby on the leg. “Now come on, let’s talk about what to expect so we can do her proud.”

  Much like the rest of the academy, the overall vibe of Agnes Sampson Hall was dark, with its chocolate-colored wood walls, thick, red curtains at the ends of a stage, and decorative paintings done in brooding tones. But today, somehow, the hall seemed lighter, more vibrant and expansive than normal. That was probably because Sampson Hall was large enough to hold three hundred people but during the welcome assembly that preceded the first exam it wasn’t full, not even halfway.

  Still, peering into the familiar room sent shivers up my spine. Although I knew the turnout was less than that of previous years, I’d never seen so many witches my age in one place.

  I’d often dealt with witches who were older than me, specifically parents whom Mother held meetings with. But here there was a sea of Spellcasters hopefuls, all my age, right before my eyes.

  And Mother thought the curse would scare all but the most serious legacies off. I shook my head. It seems not everyone in the witching world is as superstitious as she thinks.

  “Where’s your hot nerd?” Tabitha folded her arms over her chest.

  I scanned the crowd. There were two applicants whom I recognized from when their parents brought them to the academy, but the rest were new to me. I squinted, intent on finding him, and suddenly, my gaze latched onto shining black hair and a tall muscular form.

  “Right there,” I said and pointed to the far right of the room where Alex and his family stood removed from the other families. “That guy with black hair and glasses.”

  It took a moment for Tabitha and Phoebe to find Alex, but I knew the moment they spotted him because both their mouths dropped wide open. I smirked. “See? He’s hot, right?”