Supernatural Academy: Year Three

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Supernatural Academy: Year Three Page 3

by Eve, Jaymin


  “He’s hiding something,” I murmured to Asher.

  “Don’t worry about Jesse. He’ll work through it soon enough.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him. Typical dude answer.

  He replied by wrapping huge hands around my biceps, pulling me closer as his full lips pressed into mine. As the scent of ocean and home filled my body, Jesse became a distant memory, and I lost myself for a bit.

  “Fuck, I love you,” Asher growled against my lips. “I still can’t believe I have you back in my arms. It’s why I need you to move in with me, because when you’re not close the panic kicks in. That feeling when I thought I’d lost you … I don’t want to experience that ever again, Maddison. Fuck.” His chest rumbled, but he got himself under control quickly.

  It was a feeling I knew all too well.

  I’d been broken last year, into a million raggedy pieces. I never thought I’d find my way back to being even remotely whole. But apparently love was an amazing healer, and when you were bathed in enough of it, some of the cracks healed. I wasn’t—and would never be—the person I was before losing Asher, but I thought of myself now as the Japanese people did with broken things. When they broke a bowl, they repaired it using gold. Highlighting the crack. Because your flaws make you who you are, and they should never be hidden.

  I was littered with gold-infused cracks, and maybe that made me even stronger.

  The chimes of the musical bells sounded and I sighed. “What class do you have now?” I asked, not willing to step away, enjoying this moment to be wrapped around him.

  He pressed a lingering kiss to the top of my head and my eyes briefly fluttered closed. “I’m teaching water magic this morning, then I have some fight classes in the afternoon.”

  Pulling back to see him, I smiled. “Same schedule as last year, I see.”

  He nodded, brushing hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “Yeah, there’s really no point in me specializing in anything. I have Locke Industries, and water magic is my strength, so I’m honing my fighting and attack spells. I graduate this year anyway.”

  My heart hurt, and I tried not to let that show on my face. Asher leaned closer. “If you leave of course. Wherever you are, Maddi, is where I am. I don’t even care if I have to take a permanent water magic teaching position to stay here.”

  I chuckled, and the vise across my chest eased. “Since you own half the school, and have your own house on Academy grounds, I don’t think you need to worry about being kicked out.” A darker laugh emerged. “And the gods might have wiped us all out by next year anyway, so let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  Asher made a low, rumbling sound that started deep in his chest. “You can’t think like that, baby. I know it looks bad, and at times we’ve been in way over our heads during this battle, but if there is one thing I know about you, it’s that you’re a survivor. And so am I. No one is going to tear us apart again, not your parents, or mine, or whatever gods they recruit. A path will show itself, and we will not falter.”

  Path. Exactly what Mab had said. I found that interesting. Maybe something was in the works, something bigger than any of us, because I was getting the “signs” … they were coming in loud and clear. “I’ll try not to be such a downer,” I said, forcing a smile across my face. “I have everything right now, and I’m going to enjoy it.”

  “That’s my girl,” Asher said, and then with one last kiss on the forehead, he laced our fingers together and led me to an archway covered in vines. He walked me all the way to my class, and we reluctantly separated at the door.

  “See you at lunch,” I told him, on my tiptoes for one last kiss.

  He deepened the kiss, possessing and claiming my mouth, and then he was gone. Stumbling into the room, flustered and red faced, I sank down in a desk near the center. If I hadn’t already died once, I would be certain Asher was going to be the death of me. In the best possible way.

  Chapter 4

  “Good morning, year three students.”

  Quark stood front and center, and I leaned forward on my desk, enjoying once again seeing his familiar face. The troll was someone I’d grown to like and respect. He was brash, unamused by idiots, and super smart. It was unusual for the demi-fey to teach outside of their academy, but Quark definitely walked to his own beat.

  “In this course we’ve been moving through the history of our people, focusing on the wars for the most part. We might take a step away from that somewhat this year, but before we do, I’d like to pose a question to you all. Why do you think we focus so heavily on war when we explore the history of supernaturals?”

  He generally started every class with a question, wanting to see lots of involvement and discussion. Hands went into the air, and the troll pointed to a vampire to the right of me: Brenda.

  “We focus on war because it’s the easiest way to showcase the very worst…” she paused for a beat “...and the very best of our people. And nothing else truly shows the division between our races and how far we’ve come to exist in the supernatural communities the way we do.”

  “War is a great way to see the repeated mistakes we keep making,” I added. I meant to mutter under my breath, but the words came out louder than intended.

  Quark met my gaze, his eyes super dark today. “I would agree with both points. If you study the history of supernatural wars, generally they all start in the same place. Usually because of our race differences. Usually because of misunderstandings. And often because of the minute—some would say insignificant—things that divide us.” He leaned back against his desk, face somber. “At times I think we’re learning from our mistakes, but then the next war comes along and I realize that we are forever going to repeat them.”

  It was so true. One of the shifter wars started because a vampire wanted their territory. Another war between fey and bear shifters because of a love affair gone wrong. All started by powerful, egotistical supes, usually filled with too much race pride and too little respect for all the lives that would be lost.

  It was the same sort of bullshit that allowed the gods to think that what they wanted was more important than every other living being in the worlds. Those fucking gods, led by my parents, wanted to kill the Mother of All, absorb her power, and have the ability to completely remake the worlds. They were already super powerful, true gods, and yet that was not enough.

  Time and time again, it had been proven that absolute power created absolute corruption. The gods were no exception, and even if they did manage to pull off their plan, eventually they’d fight amongst themselves. Pride and pettiness, we all had it.

  A fury that was soul deep stirred in my gut, the sort of anger so strong it was self-sustaining with no help from me. The fact that these gods were willing to sacrifice everyone for their own selfish gains, that they would have killed all of my friends just to prove they could, just to hurt me, to make me do what they wanted … what the fuck was wrong with them? I mean, I was as guilty of being selfish as the next person, but I hoped I never reached the point where I could kill without thought or remorse for something as fucking stupid as more power.

  That was abhorrent.

  “What else can we learn from war?” Quark asked, walking through the desks. “Not even just the wars we’ve studied in this class, but on a larger scale. A generalization.”

  I put my hand up, already fired up. Quark nodded at me and words spewed from my mouth in a rush, most of it almost unintelligible because I was so pissed off.

  “We’ve learned that most of the time, when people do terrible things, they justify it in their minds. In reality, those who feel justified are the most dangerous, and arrogant beings hear no reason. They will sacrifice lives for their crusade. They will sacrifice everyone, and in the end, believe that those lost should be grateful to have been part of their vision.” I sucked in a ragged breath, the silence in the classroom heavy. “I appreciate and admire what Princeps Jones tries to do in this school, but most of the time, overcoming our diff
erences is like plugging a leak in the ocean with your fingertip. We’ll never stop the rushing tide, and everything ebbs and flows without interference. We are at peace now, but war will follow. It always does.”

  I realized I’d unintentionally sent power out in my speech. I dialed it back so that the heaviness would fade. Only it didn’t. Because it wasn’t just coming from me; everyone felt it too.

  Quark arched one barky eyebrow. “Do you think good people ever win?”

  I shrugged. “Good is a matter of perspective. It all depends what side of the war you fall on. For example … in the last great war between shifters and vampires, the shifters completely felt justified in defending their land, even though it was stolen from the vampires originally. And the vampires were justified in killing thousands of shifters just to prove the point of ‘no one steals from us.’ In both instances, the losers were the innocents sacrificed by their leaders. And those leaders … neither of them felt evil. They felt justified. As I said before, that’s the scariest place to have anyone in power.”

  He smiled, an odd look on his foreign features. “Yes, it’s quite scary,” he said softly. “The way leaders will sacrifice everything for their cause, never considering the ripple effect of that.”

  “They never sacrifice themselves,” someone muttered from the back of the room. A bear shifter. “My grandfather died in one of the wars, and his pack leader never even left the safe room.”

  Quark made a disparaging noise. “That’s not the norm for shifters. The alphas are usually front and center of battle.”

  The bear laughed darkly. “Yeah, the silver lining to that story is that he was dragged out and sacrificed by his own people. The bears won that day, but in many ways they lost.”

  Quark threw his hands up. “Another great point about war. There is very rarely a true winner. So many losses on both sides. It’s always a bittersweet victory.”

  All of these words were hitting me hard. Like he’d deliberately started this just to speak to my deepest fears. I knew a war was coming, I knew that’s what the leaders were discussing right now in Romania, a war that could kill thousands—if we didn’t figure out a way to cut the gods off before they started.

  “And with that, it’s time for us to move on from war,” Quark said. If only it was that easy. “Year three for History of Supernatural Races will focus on the land of Faerie, and what we know about our origins.”

  I sat a little straighter, hoping he’d start with the Atlanteans. But outside of a brief mention, he moved on to the structure of the power system on Faerie.

  Forty minutes later, the bell rang and I glanced at my eight pages of notes. I loved learning about our history and immersing myself in the supernatural races. The more I learned, the more part of it I felt. It was like the side of me raised human was fading with each year, with each new piece of information that entered my brain.

  “For next class,” Quark shouted as we packed up, “I need you all to prepare a speech on why the magic users are the most closely tied to humans. Remember to search through the timeline all the way back to the first crossing. To the Atlanteans. You’ll have a more compelling argument. A good place to start would be with the question of how we all became so divided when most supernaturals that left Faerie, originally, were the same.”

  I jotted down the homework and lifted my satchel. It was the leather bag’s third year with me and it was still going strong. I marveled at the quality of the bag Ilia had gifted me in my first year.

  “What class do you have next?” a familiar voice asked, and I spun around.

  “Simon!” I shrieked, throwing my arms around him. He was taller than me now, and more filled out, having lost all of that lanky youth he’d had in our first year. “I didn’t see you in class.”

  He laughed. “You looked distracted and I was in the back row.”

  I shook my head. “I should have known you’d be in that class. Sorry I missed you.”

  History was Simon’s thing … it was in his DNA.

  “Next class is Race Morphology,” I said quickly, smiling happily at him. “How was your time at home?”

  He shrugged. “I hate to say it, but it was actually … okay. My parents didn’t treat me like complete garbage. They even took me on one of their expeditions.”

  I snorted. “Let me guess, you topped our grade and they had to acknowledge that you’re both smart and talented as fuck? They probably need you more than you need them at this point.”

  He shrugged, a half smile on his face. We were kind of blocking the path, so he linked his arm through mine and dragged me out of the classroom. Back in the hallway, we walked arm in arm toward the morphology room.

  “I’m glad to see you looking happier than the last time I saw you,” Simon said softly. “I’ve been worried about you.”

  Emotions swelled inside me, and I wondered how I could keep feeling all of these feels without exploding. “To be bluntly honest ... I’ve been worried about me too.” I shrugged. “But, I’m working on celebrating the happiness I have now, so, in general, I’m feeling a little less maudlin about the whole thing.”

  Simon stopped in front of my next classroom, releasing my arm, and turning to face me. “The gods don’t know who they’re up against. I have never, for a second, worried that they would win. I know you, Maddi, and I know that you’ll figure out a way to take them down…” His eyes jerked up to something over my head. “And with that, I’ll leave you here. See you later, friend.”

  As he took off, power and heat washed along my spine, locking me in place. A firm hand pressed against my lower back, slowly tracing higher, heat burning across my skin and sinking into my blood. A shudder of longing ran through me as my eyes closed against my will.

  It just felt so good.

  “You can do anything, Maddi,” Asher murmured, close to my ear, his body heat seeping into me.

  Tilting my head back, I rested it against his chest, staring up at him. “Together we can,” I murmured. “I tried it on my own and I was a fucking mess.”

  I’d been proud of how I survived without Asher, but something told me that time would have eaten away at my strength, until eventually I succumbed to the grief in a way that was not recoverable. Even now … I couldn’t think about it. That time was so dark that it was banished into a box that I locked up tight, never to be touched again.

  “Why aren’t you in water magic?” I asked, not complaining, but surprised to see him.

  Asher grinned. “Finished teaching that class already.” I quirked an eyebrow at him, waiting for the rest. His smile just about melted my underwear right the fuck off. Sexy asshole. “And I might have forgotten to mention another class this morning, in the hope of surprising you. See, this year's Race Morphology class is so small they’re combining third and fourth years.”

  I didn’t even have to wonder what that meant. Happiness ripped through me. “We have a class together?”

  His laughter was warm and husky. Spinning, I hugged him tightly and let out another cry at the sight of Axl, Jesse, Calen, and Rone over his shoulder. “All of you?” I choked out.

  Fuck. I was a right old emotional mess these days. Damn hormones.

  Jesse nodded, and for the first time in ages he met my watery gaze. “All of us, sweetheart.”

  Chapter 5

  My old Race Morphology teacher had been replaced with someone new. A demi-fey.

  I was sitting in the center row, Asher on one side, Jesse on the other. Calen and Rone were behind me, and Axl was in front. All of us watched as the centaur made his way into the room, ducking down to fit through the classroom door.

  “Good morning, class,” he said, his voice a rumble—I had to focus hard to understand him. “I’m Lennie, your new Race Morphology teacher. I generally step in for third and fourth year classes, because we focus a lot more on the demi-fey. As you can probably tell, I have some experience with demi-fey in general.”

  He threw his head back to laugh at his own joke, strong,
bare chest shining in the lights that were above, and I couldn’t help but laugh too. It was almost infectious. The centaur was a mix between a horse and human, the bottom half of him—the horse half—was huge and light brown in color. I knew nothing about horses and couldn’t compare to a breed, but he looked strong and powerful, his dark tail swishing almost to the ground behind him.

  In truth, the tail was the part that was weirding me out the most, but he was quite spectacular.

  The top half of him was handsome—in a horsey-human way. His skin was a similar shade of brown to his body, just lighter.

  The rest of the class was still laughing with the centaur, except for my guys, but they all wore smiles. It was weird though, because he hadn’t really said anything that funny. And yet it was like it was comedy hour, and the teacher was the funniest creature alive.

  “Centaurs can induce emotions in others,” Asher murmured to me, his eyes warm. He didn’t look upset, so clearly the teacher wasn’t doing anything on purpose.

  He brushed a thumb across my cheek, still broadly grinning. “This is a good look on you,” he added as he twirled a long strand of aqua hair around his finger. “Pure joy. I’d like to see more of that.”

  “Why haven’t we had classes together before?” I murmured.

  “Because you would have failed,” Axl piped up, shaking his head. “Books before boys, Maddison. Books before boys.”

  It was solid advice.

  The centaur resumed his position in front of the white board. “Sorry about that. I promise that I don’t deliberately push my power; it’s an innate part of being a centaur. Something you will learn this year.”

  For the rest of the lesson, Asher played with strands of my hair, paying no attention to the teacher. Calen dozed in his chair and he wasn’t even subtle about it—at one point, his head was back, mouth open. His favorite way to sleep, apparently. Rone stared out the window, and Jesse was drawing something in his notebook. I tried to catch a glimpse, but in his usual style lately, he hid it from me.

 

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