Nightworld Academy: Term Six

by LJ Swallow

  She chuckles. “I’m glad you and Ash struggle with what to say about this.”

  “But I’ll always listen.”

  "What should I do?" she whispers. "About Tobias. I can't look at him, how could we work with him?"

  I sigh, wishing he’d leave the room; it’s as if he’s with us. "Maybe once you've spoken to your aunt and have time to deal with everything, you can make that decision."

  "Yes."

  "Whatever you decide, I don't think he'll stay away forever."

  Her pulse quickens again, and I hold my breath against her scent. "That's what I'm scared of."

  "You're scared of him?"

  Maeve turns her eyes to mine. "No. I'm scared of myself."

  I've no response to the hit of anguish from her words, apart from to do the one thing I know blanks Maeve's mind for a while. We kiss again, Maeve’s fingers in my hair and our legs wrapped together.

  Maeve pulls away sooner than I want, and I nudge her nose with mine. "I slept with you last night and you didn't even notice!" I roll my eyes in mock exasperation.

  She nudges my nose with hers. "I did. You give the best cuddles."

  Kinda weird, since I've barely cuddled anybody in my life. "You're saying I'm good in bed?" I cock a brow and this time she rolls her eyes.

  But she smiles too, the first time her face has brightened all evening.

  Warmth surges through.

  A smile I gave her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ANDREI

  I’m pissed off that I need to leave Maeve and skulk back to Petrescu. The hemia vamps might have blackout blinds and curtains, but the witches' rooms let through too much sunlight. Maeve won't come to Petrescu anymore and that includes sleeping in my room.

  I can never wake up in bed beside Maeve unless we're at mine and now the heartbeat follows her, she doesn't want to visit Petrescu. Fair enough, but waking beside Maeve and how she instinctively snuggles me when she's still asleep gives me a dose of what I need: comfort.

  Is her reluctance to stay all night due to the heartbeat beneath the house, or because of our unspoken issue?

  I remain unpopular in Walcott circles, but don't give a shit. I'm not interested in childish squabbling when I'm involved in something a hell of a lot bigger. I pass a guy from my Mental Magic class on the way past the common room and arch a brow as he throws me a filthy look. Jumping down the stairs two at a time, I burst through the door and pause.

  In the past, I considered pushing my luck and glimpsing dawn, believing a few sun rays wouldn't hurt me. Now I'm glad I never did, because those small burns the night we fought my mother hurt like a motherfucker. I look at my hand—no scars, naturally, but a lesson learned. Alaric warned me not to go with them that night, and I didn't listen, but a few burns were worth it to help protect Maeve.

  Hands in pockets, hunched over, I head off. For a while, I was at the edge of her Ash and Jamie's circle, and sometimes feel I still am. If acting on a problem won't wait until the evening, I'm excluded. That's not the worst though—I miss time with Maeve. Because academy lessons run late into the night, I see her more than if she had a normal human sleep pattern, but I can never spend time with her in the daytime.

  I'm jealous that Ash can sit with Maeve in the sunshine or Jamie can take her out before lessons start. It's so fucking unfair only hemia vamps are affected by sunlight, not others. Nobody knows why, although I've heard rumours the handicap comes from a curse.

  Oh yeah, witches and their fucking curses. I never believed that theory but look at Tobias's situation. Did one of our originals fuck with the wrong witches and now we all suffer the consequences?

  Nah. If that were true, someone would've figured out a way to change the situation by now. I eye the cloudy sky and listen for dawn birdsong.

  Nothing.

  My attuned ears pick up a noise close by, to the side of Walcott. I change direction and edge towards the wall. Two tall figures stand beneath the overhanging eaves, below Walcott bedrooms and I press myself against the brick as I watch.

  Focusing my senses, I reach out to detect who they are.

  Vampires. I wrinkle my nose when I can't sense any lamia or pneuma energy. Hemia.

  Loitering around Walcott.

  Fuck, no. Not again.

  I stalk along the path and as I approach, I instantly know who this is. He's taller than most vamps, but skinny. I can't see his distinctive eyes, but I can see his slicked hair. He's with a guy around my height and build, also hemia. Sergei and his mate, Arek—two of my greatest fans. Ha ha.

  "What're you doing?" I ask.

  Sergei crosses his arms and backs away. "What are you doing?"

  "I'm not hiding in the dark,” I say pointedly.

  "We're not hiding," retorts Arek. "Just hanging out."

  "If you want to hang out, choose somewhere different than here. You know what Walcott think of us right now."

  Sergei sneers. "We can go where we want on campus. The witches don't run the place—a vampire does."

  I shake my head, but I'm confused. These guys stay on the edge of academy life as much as I once did, but more because they can't be bothered with anybody outside their close-knit hemia group.

  They definitely don't have any Walcott friends and they've no reason to be here.

  "How's your crazy witch girlfriend?" asks Sergei.

  I straighten. "She isn't crazy."

  "She must be if she's screwing around with Andrei Tepes."

  There's no point arguing with Sergei about this; he's as prejudiced as Yvette, ironically. "Sure. Okay." I point to the sky. "Don't 'hang out' too long; dawn is on the way."

  Turning away, I make my way back into the open. I've rarely seen the pair outside Petrescu house or classrooms, which makes their presence outside Walcott extra weird. Taking another glance at the sky, I pick up my pace as the first streaks of light burn through the sky.

  A guy steps from the shadows and I almost walk into him. A girl moves to stand beside him, with her arm around a smaller girl's shoulders, and I sigh inwardly when I see who. Yvette and a nervous-looking girl I don't recognise.

  And Cody. Great. This guy excels on the rugby pitch; one of few witches whose performance and physique match shifters. "Wait, Tepes," he snarls in my face.

  "Is this him?" he asks the other witch.

  She's on the shorter, curvier side with curly brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. She might be in my classes, I'm not sure. I don't pay attention to most people.

  "I-I don't know," she stammers.

  "Kimberly won't know because this arsehole interfered with her mind," spits Yvette.

  "I haven't interfered with anybody's mind," I say and make to pass them, but Cody seizes my arm. I scowl and drag it away. "Hands off, dude."

  "Have you been stalking witches?" he growls.

  "Huh? No. For fuck's sake; Walcott needs to get over this shit."

  This time when I move, he allows me a few steps before launching himself at me. He's wasting his time attacking me from behind, as I quickly sidestep, moving a few feet away. I laugh at how he looks around in confusion when he staggers into the spot I stood moments ago.

  "Someone scared Kimberly," says Yvette. "Vamps. They followed her."

  "Really? You mean they walked around campus. Y'know, at the academy. The one they attend.”

  Yvette pulls a face at my sarcasm.

  "I saw them waiting for me," Kimberly whispers. "They were hiding and I could feel what they were thinking."

  "Right." A solitary bird chirps in a nearby tree. Fuck. "Nobody followed you, Kimberly. You're paranoid because witches like these put stupid ideas in your head." I gesture at Yvette and Cody.

  But a doubt niggles. Sergei and Arek. Coincidence?

  "Did anybody touch you?" I continue. She blinks at me. "No?" I cock my head and sniff. "And you stink of alcohol. You’re drunk, for fuck's sake."

  “Nobody touched her this time," growls Cody.

  "I don't have time for
this," I say and gesture at the oncoming dawn. "And I suggest you find evidence before making accusations against people."

  I hold Yvette's gaze with stone-cold eyes, and she narrows hers before taking a step towards me. "Where's April?"

  "I don't know." I sidestep but she matches me.

  "Why did you just throw a block up in your mind, Andrei?"

  "Natural response to you, Yvette."

  "You might be able to get away with one murder thanks to your friends in high places, but not this one."

  Yvette’s pulse races and her thoughts cloud with grief. She's in denial and still lashing out at me, even with proof I didn't touch Lorna. Can't somebody help Yvette find peace? Counselling or some shit like that? I've done nothing to Kimberly, this is the closest I've ever stood to her. Yes, every witch's blood tempts every hemia, but I have zero inclination to touch any witch, apart from Maeve.

  "I said, I don't have time for this," I say and back off. "Speak to one of the professors if you're worried."

  As I head away, Cody's laughter follows me. "They're covering shit up. Hell, the academy head is a vamp, of course she's biased and protecting you."

  The air around changes, the atmosphere more threatening, but not only because the morning light streaks the clouds. If students begin to question Theodora's leadership and motivations, everything will go to shit.

  Do Walcott have their own 'Vincent' turning their race away from the others?

  Chapter Fourteen

  MAEVE

  I sit in the Walcott common room on the blue sofa by the window, sinking into the plush cushions. Jamie sits beside me with both hands circling mine, as I focus on sights and sounds around me to ground myself. My palms are damp and heart races at the news my aunt has arrived at the academy.

  Part of me never expected her to visit—either due to her mental state or to avoid the unpleasant situation. Until I've spoken to Marie, I can't bring myself to talk to my parents. I swing from anger and grief that I've lost the old Maeve but tell myself she always existed. Nothing has changed.

  But everything has.

  Jamie's quiet calm flows between us as he gently rubs the back of my hand with his thumb. Two days later and Andrei's intensity over the situation hasn't dropped. He's trying to help, but I'm smothered by the attention. Ash remains confused and struggles to talk to me, admitting he doesn't know what to say.

  Jamie is Jamie. His natural empathy means he'll talk to and distract me when I need or sit with me and offer comfort on my terms. The afternoon in the cottage plays on my mind when I’m with him. At that moment, not only did I want the twisting pain soothed, but I needed a reminder that I’m here and I’m me.

  I’ve craved Jamie’s kiss and touch, and in that blind moment wanted him to be the one to take that pain away. We don’t have Matt and Amelia’s telepathic bond, but there’s something in how we immediately recognise each other’s needs and share energy, magically. That surely extends to a physical relationship—if Jamie would just let go. Honestly, how many nineteen-year-old guys have his self-control?

  I worry that his holding back could cause a magical block too.

  I waver between tears and fake composure because I don't want to break down. Will I remember the questions listed in my head? The ones that cycle over and over and stop me sleeping.

  "Promise me you won't try to run again," he says, staring ahead. "If you want to leave the academy after you've spoken to your aunt, tell me. I'll take you somewhere."

  Is that what I want? The claustrophobia I've felt at the academy since I arrived has grown since Tobias’s news, but this is where I need to be. I can't walk away now; these people are my life, and we owe it to each other to work through and survive.

  And once this threat is over? I don't know. We'll never be ordinary students striving for grades and a decent position in society. Each of us has a situation that sets us out of the norm. Between us, have we screwed up Jamie's chance at normality?

  Have I changed his future?

  Jamie looks up in surprise when I turn my head and kiss his cheek. "Thank you, I'd like another Jamie date, but check with Amelia first?"

  "Why?"

  "The Blackwoods," I murmur.

  Jamie immediately closes his eyes. Blackwood. The name I didn't want to speak right now, but they're never far whether we mention the name or not.

  "Do you think the Blackwoods know who I am?" I ask.

  "They suspect—I think that's why Gabriella tried to dig into your mind. Because you didn't know, she found nothing."

  I nod. "I don't have any memories."

  "Are you certain you'll be okay with Marie?"

  "Yes, but Sofia cornered me before to ask why my aunt is here. I won't be able to hide the truth from people for long."

  "In your own time, Maeve." He strokes my hair. "Sofia won't react well."

  "Why?"

  "I've told you before, she's jealous of your powers."

  Is Jamie right? Or is this something more sinister? "I expect she'll corner me again later. I don't mind as long as she isn't in the room with me when I speak to Marie.”

  "Do you want me to walk over to Theodora's with you?" he asks.

  I squeeze his hand tighter. He's the polar opposite of Tobias, instilling calm through our bond. Our mutual attraction matches though, only Jamie has a better hold on his than Tobias. That said, working on Jamie's impressive self-control grows into a challenge for me. Jamie pulls me to my feet and envelops me in his arms. "Everything will be okay, Maeve. You're strong. You've got this."

  Rubbing my cheek against his soft shirt, I close my eyes and draw on the strength he and the others give me.

  Will I find answers, or will Marie leave me with more questions?

  Marie looks almost the same as last time I saw her; the eccentric woman with tattoos and platinum blonde hair cropped into a pixie style. She has the same jittery manner too, but this time she isn't confused by time, because when I walk into the room, reality smacks her in the face.

  We're in Theodora's office, although she isn't with us. There's a different scent to the room than usual—not Theodora's floral perfume, but a heavier spiced smell from a small bowl at the edge of her desk.

  Theodora never uses herbs; does Marie think she needs spells to keep me calm?

  She rises from the armchair and smiles hesitantly. "Hello, Maeve."

  Every question and comment I've rehearsed on the way over here evaporates from my mind and I can only croak out, "hello" before I sit in my familiar seat on Theodora's sofa. Over the weeks, this spot becomes the place I hear new and confronting things about my world.

  None more confronting than this.

  "I am truly sorry," Marie says almost immediately. "I've treated you badly." Her voice cracks and Marie's genuine distress rubs away some of my anger. "Tobias perhaps told you the story?"

  Tobias. I swallow and nod. "Very little. I walked away. You're the person who needs to explain to me what happened and why."

  "Before I do, please understand that I—we—chose this path to save your life."

  "But nineteen years and you didn't say anything to me!" I blurt.

  Marie chews on a red-painted nail. "Perhaps Tobias didn't tell you everything."

  "I didn't give him the chance. When he told me he'd murdered my family, I freaked out and ran."

  "Understandably."

  Clenching my teeth, I fight the shaking flooding my body and the desire to shout and cry. But what use will that do? If I drop into hysteria, I'll forget everything Marie says once we part.

  "Tell me everything," I say hoarsely and swipe at the tear escaping.

  Marie's face crumples too and she turns away for a moment, taking a deep breath as she does. Did she ever expect to be in this position?

  As she tells me the story, I listen without a word and lose track of where I am. I attempt to picture the people she talks about; their house and the life that we all lost.

  "Don't blame your parents," she finishes. "The man
and woman who raised you are your true parents in the way any adoptive parents are. The reason they never told you is they didn't want to cause you more problems."

  "You mean make me crazier?" I retort. "I spent years believing I had mental health issues and you could've told me what was happening!"

  She rubs her temples. "As I explained, part of the reason I struggle to place myself in the present is because I saved the Winterfall line and upset the world balance. This is my curse, but from the universe, not witches. I didn't lie when I told you saving people by changing the future affects our place in time. I paid a heavy price."

  Marie's explanation makes sense and saddens me. I don't want to be angry, but how can I not be? When I discovered I'm a witch, I reacted by denying and pushing away the obvious supernatural world around me. Eventually, the new reality brought me peace because I finally discovered who I am and what my 'troubles' really were. Now I'm facing a similar situation, but magnified a thousand times.

  Maeve, the future-sighted witch and catalyst for the explosive secrets in the academy, will reveal herself as more than anybody expected. What will the truth bring?

  Now I have her explanation: Marie destroyed her life by saving mine. My real mother knew she'd die and would never see her daughter grow up. Nausea rises as the nagging words I try to suppress move in. Tobias murdered her.

  "You told me the Winterfalls are descended from ancient witches. What does that mean?"

  "The Winterfalls' future-sight magic originated with the Norse seidr, which means their lineage stretches as far back as the vampires'. Only the Blackwood witches are as old. Through the years, the Winterfalls married other witches, of course, which means some spirit-attuned witches also have future-sight, but not at the same level as a pure Winterfall. I have the family in my lineage somewhere and that's where my visions come from." She sighs. "More of a curse than a blessing."

  I moisten my lips. "Have you seen my future, Marie?"

  I expect Marie to look away, but she meets my eyes. "I saw you arrive at the academy, but this vision happened at one of my less lucid times and I didn't know it wasn’t real. I've also seen a fire, but the vision is unclear too. I only know that you and your friends are with you—I hear their voices."