by J. L. Weil
Sighing, I tried to contain my temper. “With all due respect, General. I didn’t cause the incident. I stopped it. I saved Haley's life, putting my own at risk in the process, and ending up in a hospital—unconscious for two days. But you know, you are welcome.”
“Do not mouth off your grandfather,” my father barked, standing.
“Yes, Sir. It won’t happen again, Sir.” I bit the inside of my cheek not to tell them what I really thought. This was the story of my fucking life. Being in the military was amazing, but growing up in the James military family, not so much.
“What you did was carry the first daughter over your shoulder, and flash the entire country. The pictures of her… her…” Grandfather stopped, uncomfortable with the term.
“Ass?” I offered, trying not to laugh, but he arched a warning brow at me.
“Those pictures are in every tabloid in the country!” he seethed.
“With all due respect, Sir. It is not my fault that she was wearing a glittering headband as a dress.”
“Ethan…” my father warned, in a tone I knew all too well.
All humor left me.
An exasperated sigh burst from the General’s lips. “This isn’t funny, Ethan. In your short life you have managed to create an extraordinary career already. Being recruited into the most prestigious covert program at fourteen, sent straight to Delta Force. Leading your own team...”
He began to pace the room as he listed all my achievements one by one, without missing a single point. In all honesty, I was surprised he even knew them all. I stared at him half shocked, that was the closest thing to recognition that I had ever received from him, or my father, for that matter. I’d take it.
“All the missions, all the merits you have received... Your record is impeccable, and frankly, enviable,” Father added, standing next to my grandfather. “And more than that, worthy of our name,” he finished, facing me, and something close to self-pride filled my chest.
“And then, you make a stupid mistake like this one.”
Aaand it was gone. “Well, it was good while it lasted,” I mumbled to myself, feeling my grouchiness awaken.
“What was that?”
Frustratedly, I shook my head. “Nothing, Sir.”
“You have to be smart about this, Son. This is the moment you want to exploit. This is your career high.”
I repressed the dubious glance from taking over my face. “Being pulled out of Delta Force to be a bodyguard is the high of my career?”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Grandfather barked. “You don’t want to spend your whole life fighting wars. Take it from someone who did just that. My father, grandfather, and his father before him, all we have done is fight. Yet, there is so much more you can do with your life, and the younger you start, the better chance you have for greatness.”
“It got you the title of Secretary of Defense, didn’t it? And Father a seat in Congress,” I pointed it out, genuinely perplexed. I seriously didn’t understand the point they were trying to make.
“But we’ve had to struggle, fight tooth and nail to get here. That doesn’t have to be your path. You are a decorated hero, Ethan. The president was mesmerized by your record. He himself asked for you to be pulled out of war, because he didn’t want to trust his daughter’s life to anyone else. You’ve already left your stamp in the military.”
“A hell of a mark,” my father added, grinning. “Now it’s the time to exploit that,” he reiterated. “The political party has their eye on you. Another year of service to the president, and he assured us he will back you for Governor.”
“What?” I blurted, standing from the bed, and accidentally bumping the food tray to the floor. “Governor?”
“After that, the Senate, and then the presidency,” Grandfather added with pride, and I felt the floor shift under me. “But you have to be smart about it. This is your fate, Ethan. Your true destiny.”
“No,” I mumbled, trying to focus. “Politics are not my thing. That is not what I want.”
“You ingrate, little child,” Father growled. “Who cares about what you want? You can be the first Ethan James in the Oval Office. Think about what that means for you, for us, and the family name. This can be your legacy.”
“My legacy?” I whispered, stunned.
“Do you know how many senators I have spoken to, how many favors I’ve set in place to assure your future?” Grandfather warned. “I had to beg Harold to pull you out of Delta Force, so you could start early enough to—”
“Excuse me?” I blinked, the fire awakening in me instantly, and rushing through my veins. “You told the president to pull me out of the military?”
“This is a game of chess, Ethan. We have to play it wisely.”
I stared at them appalled. “Delta Force was everything to me.” My words were a strained whisper, as I desperately tried to contain the volcano brewing inside me.
“Ethan…” Father warned, and my gaze flew to him.
“Which one is it, then? Am I so extraordinarily amazing that you can’t wait for me to be in the Oval Office, or such a fucking tool that you had to beg the president to give me a job?” My hands fisted at my sides. “You know what? I don’t owe you anything. Everything I have achieved, I have done it on my own.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” the General scuffed. “It is time for you to start acting like a man. We won’t be here for you forever, and this is your future we are talking about. Do you know how many people would kill to be in your shoes right now?”
Something snapped inside me, but instead of blowing, the volcano within stirred and simmered, the fiery waves of anger rose, slapping like lava against my chest. Ripping the IV and other cables from my body, I walked toward the closet and took my clothes out, beginning to dress.
“What are you doing?” Father’s clipped voice reached me while I pulled up my jeans under the hospital gown.
“I’m going to go home, call the Master Sergeant, and ask for my job back.”
“What?!”
“Don’t be an idiot,” my grandfather snapped. “You left the force under presidential orders; do you really think anyone is going to go against Harold? Get back in bed.”
My world tumbled with the words, because I knew he was right. I was burned. They wouldn’t take me back unless the president himself told them to, and knowing he approved of the plans my family had for me, he would never do that. Yet, the fury inside me wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Ignoring them, I threw the hospital gown on the floor, and pulled the t-shirt over my head, slipping my feet into my worn-out boots.
“Ethan, stop this tantrum right now, and get back in bed!” the General commanded in a voice that would have made anyone tremble in fear, even me about an hour ago. Not now.
Not anymore.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I whispered, kissing her cheek. “I have to do this for myself.”
Her hands cradled my face, and she placed a motherly kiss on my lips. “I know, baby. I love you.”
“I love you too.” Straightening, I swiveled on my heel, and reached for my phone, taking the leather jacket that lay on the couch.
Father's hand gripped my arm before I could walk past him. “Ethan, stop! We are doing this for you.”
“You are doing this for yourself!” I roared, yanking my arm free. The volcano exploded once and for all. “You are doing this for a legacy I do not want! For an arrangement of letters that is more valuable to you than your own son’s happiness.” My gaze shifted, boring into my grandfather’s. “I’m done. You two might have allowed your fathers to dictate who you became. To imprison you in a life you did not want, all for the glory of the family name. But I will not.”
“Ethan, come back here! Ethan!” he bellowed, enraged beyond belief at my insolence as I stormed out of the room, and into the hallway.
All the doctors and nurses’ eyes went to us.
My steps halted midway, and I threw a look at them over my shoulder. “Don’t call me that. You
don’t even know who I am.”
“Wait! The doctor hasn’t signed you out. You can’t leave yet,” a nurse begged.
“Yeah, well. If you find out I’m dying, text me. I’m done with this shit.”
4
RENNA
I am swearing off portals forever...
The thought rolled through my head as I strutted down the academy halls to the headmaster’s office. I’d been summoned by Father. No surprise.
Word traveled fast, and my little adventure from last night was the latest hot topic buzzing around the campus. But that wasn’t all. There was also a rumor swirling that I’d opened a portal inside the castle.
Jacob had a big mouth.
Obviously, Tricksy had told her boyfriend about our failed venture in the artifacts tower, who then took it upon himself to tell the whole school. Bets were going around on whether or not this newest, colossal screw up, would get me kicked out of the academy.
I scoffed at the idea despite the lump stuck in my throat, as I rounded the corner and descended the circular stairs to the north tower.
Jacob’s big mouth was going to end up with my fist rammed down his throat.
I had every intention of speaking to my father, just on my terms. I’d wanted to go to him before the rumors made their way up the chain of command. Guess I underestimated the power of the gossip mongrels at STA.
This was one conversation I wasn’t looking forward to having, not when everyone else was off making out in their dorms, getting drunk, or hanging out in the commons.
Weekends at the academy were the only time when they let us do what we pleased, but within reason. We still weren’t allowed to leave campus without prior permission, a day pass that granted a student passage to the mortal world below us.
Spending my Saturday getting a stern lecture from Father, was not how I wanted this day to unfold.
I stopped outside the massive, carved oak door and inhaled, steadying myself. It wasn’t that I was afraid of my father, or being kicked out of school for that matter. A little weary, yes. I’d be a fool not to feel some apprehension and respect for the oldest, most feared vampire in history.
Yep, that was my dad.
For the first time in my life, I was afraid to disappoint someone other than myself. I had spent the last two years at the academy, proving I was deserving of the gift he had given me. Proving that I wasn’t just a troubled teen off the streets, and I was worthy of being his daughter.
Those were big ass shoes to fill.
My eyes scanned the words etched above the doorway, painted in gold letters.
Altius. Citius. Fortius—Swifter. Higher. Stronger.
STA’s motto.
Other academies existed, dedicated to providing a safe haven for supes of all ages, and a guarded environment where they could learn to control their abilities, so they weren’t deemed a hazard to the mortal population. Yet, this institution was superior to anything else. One of a kind.
Contrary to popular human belief, not everyone different was “out to get them”. Although we had powers, we were also part of this world, so we wanted to protect what was ours. That was not to say there weren’t truly evil creatures out there, that sought only to bring kismet and death.
A century ago, it was my father’s vision to unite the magical races, and create a place where the talents of the most skilled and unique of all gifted could be honed, sharpened, and turned into the perfect instrument of destruction. For the good of humanity, of course. So, after joining ranks with six mighty allies, our academy was born.
Over the decades, that dream morphed into the most selective and powerful supernatural institution ever seen. Hidden in a parallel dimension above New York City, the institute recruited only the most accomplished students from other schools, and brought them here to test their limits and make them exceptional.
After graduation, they were assigned to taskforce teams, and sent all over the world to protect it.
Of course, with my blatant disregard for the rules, and my awesome attitude, I doubted once I graduated I’d be assigned to a unit. I pretty much came with a warning label—Does not play well with others. I never had.
I’d been just a girl before, dodging the system—although running, was a more accurate term.
How the hell did I end up being a ward of the state?
Long story, but the gist of it was I’d been dealt shitty parents, who preferred drugs over the little girl they’d created. I was eight when the courts finally took me from that dirty shack they’d called a home, and placed me into foster care.
Except, no one wanted to adopt a bratty kid, with a sharp tongue and a bad attitude. And the truth of it was, I didn’t want to be someone else’s problem, so I didn’t allow myself to care, to open up, to be loved.
It was easier to stay pissed off at my parents, at my social worker, at the world…
Of course, when I was placed into a home, I either sabotaged a good situation, was treated like a maid, or someone in the house had roaming hands—be it a brother, an uncle, or a husband.
There were nights when I could still smell the stench of cheap cigarettes in my hair, and the feel of dirt on my skin. The empty feeling of loneliness. The hot burning of endless tears. The clawing of hunger. Sometimes, I woke up screaming for a mom who never came, others at the pudgy man pinning me down with the weight of his body.
Then I remembered what I was, who I was, and what I could do.
Never again would I be someone’s problem. Never again would I be hopeless. Or alone.
I guess my parents taught me something after all.
How to survive.
But it was Ambrose who had given me a second chance at life—not to just survive, but to live—to thrive—to kick ass.
I knocked three times, before pressing down on the thick metal latch. The heavy wooden door squeaked open under the pressure of my palms, and I breathed in the scent of rich cigars and expensive cologne. It was a combination that would always make me think of my father.
My gaze drifted to the center of the floor, where a tiled, circular design was placed. Within it lay the five markings that represented the school’s crest. The symbols of the Supernatural Council, otherwise known as the Consilium Aereum. Bookshelves climbed up the walls on either side of the stone fireplace, low burning embers crackling and floating upward. Tapestries of his prior life hung on the walls, in what seemed like an impossible story for one man to have lived—histories I could hardly fathom.
The headmaster’s tower was three stories—the main level used for work, the other two floors were his personal quarters. Sadly, I’d spent far too much time in his office, on the receiving end of more lectures than I could remember. If anyone else had been in charge of overseeing the academy, I would surely have been kicked to the curb, deemed unfit for STA’s program. Not because I lacked the skills or the sheer determination, but because I broke the rules and contradicted basically everything.
In my opinion, the Aereum needed to loosen the strings on their panties and boxers. They were a bunch of ancient, uptight immortals—my father excluded of course, but even he had his moments.
His office was in the back of the room, a bit elevated from the rest of the main floor. I climbed the short set of four stairs, eyes drawn to the wall of windows that overlooked the waterfalls intertwining around the tower. I loved this room, the sound of the rushing water, the hominess, and the sense of belonging it gave me. The couches were damn comfortable too, the kind you could curl up in, with a good book and a cup of tea.
I’d never forget the first time Ambrose brought me here. It was in this room that my life changed forever. It was where I’d awoken as a vampire.
The man behind the massive polished desk, fixed his stern sapphire eyes on me. “Renna,” he spoke in a deep voice that was like onyx and honey, with just a hint of a French accent, or some other similar language, but older. My name echoed throughout the tall ceilings of the tower. “Sit.” He gestured to the pai
r of plush crimson armchairs in front of the desk.
Ambrose Bellmare wasn’t my biological father. He was the vampire who had turned me—saved me. Dressed in a black suit of fine silk, he was the epitome of night, sleek and ageless. Few dared to cross Ambrose’s path, not without anticipating death.
I plopped into the chair with an ease that defied how I was feeling inside. One of Ambrose’s lessons—never let your feelings show when dealing with an adversary. Not that I thought of him as my enemy, but he held enough sway and authority within the academy, that it would be wise of me not to forget who or what he was.
He closed his laptop and folded his hands on top of his desk. “The Aereum has requested your presence,” he stated flatly.
A pesky cluster of nerves fluttered in my stomach, but none of that edginess showed in my face. “Why?”
“Do they need a reason?”
Yes! No. “It would be helpful if I knew what I was walking into.”
“Like when you walked into the artifacts tower, and opened a portal to the Underworld?”
Shit. My throat bobbed. “I can explain.”
His lips twitched. “Renna, you have an explanation for everything.” He shifted back in his chair, crossing an ankle over his knee. “It is one of your many qualities. I only wish you would use that ability to talk yourself out of situations, before you got into them.”
“Yeah, well. What fun would that be? Besides, I’d never get to see you otherwise,” I pouted, concentrating on the red embers of his forgotten cigar on the desk.
“Is that what this was? A ploy to spend time with me?”
“Of course not,” I snorted. “Believe it or not, I was actually trying to pass my history class,” I stated, folding my arms, and slumping further into the chair.
“Enough, Renna,” he warned, in a sharp voice that left the iron on my fangs singing. “If you’re going to ignore the rules, do so in a way that doesn’t have the entire academy talking about it.” He sighed defeatedly. “I know that I am lenient with you, but the Aereum won’t be. Your behavior sends the wrong message to the other students. We can’t have the order of the academy tested. It defeats all that we’re trying to accomplish.”
