Crush

by Tracy Wolff

  “Text me when you get up and let me know what works for you.”

  I nod and turn to go inside, closing the door softly behind me.

  “You’re back!” Macy exclaims, bouncing off her bed. “How was it? Was the Bloodletter as scary as everyone says? Is Jaxon really not afraid of her? Did she help you get rid of Hudson? Could she—” She breaks off as she gets her first good look at me. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She grabs on to my shoulders and turns me around to face the mirror on her closet door. “Maybe because you look like that?”

  “Oh.” My cheeks are flushed, my curls are wild, and dark circles ring my eyes and make me look feverish. “I’m fine. Just exhausted.”

  I walk over to my closet and shuck all my snow gear.

  “So can I assume Hudson is gone, then?” she asks tentatively, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

  “You would assume wrong,” I say, collapsing on my own bed in my long underwear and turtleneck. I know I need to take a shower, but right now I have no motivation to do anything other than sit right here and pretend the last two days—and the last four months—have just been a really long nightmare that I’m about to wake up from any second.

  “What do you mean?” Macy’s eyes go huge. “He’s still in you?”

  “Ugh. Please don’t ever say it like that again.” I rub a hand over my very tired eyes. “But yes, Hudson is still in my head. The Bloodletter showed me how to wall off his powers so he can’t control me anymore, but he is definitely still in there.”

  “How do you know? If he’s not taking you over—”

  “Because he has a new trick. He talks to me now.”

  Macy looks at me like she isn’t sure how to process that new information. “He…”

  “Talks to me.” I roll my eyes. “Non. Stop.”

  “Like, he just talks to you?” Macy asks, and when I nod, she continues. “I mean, what’s he saying right now?”

  “He’s asleep right now, but I’m sure when he wakes up, he’ll have something to say.”

  “About?”

  “Anything. Everything. He’s definitely a vampire with opinions. Not to mention delusions of grandeur.”

  Macy laughs. “That’s pretty much every vampire everywhere. They aren’t exactly known for their humble natures.”

  I think of Jaxon and Lia, Mekhi and the other members of the Order. Macy might have a point there.

  “Sooooo…” Macy pauses like she doesn’t want to ask the next question but someone has to. “How are you dealing with having someone so evil inside your head? Are you okay? I mean, I know you said he can’t do anything in there anymore, but still…”

  To be honest, I don’t have the energy to go down this rabbit hole right now. And I don’t know, maybe I never will. Heather’s mom told me after my parents died that it was okay not to focus on the pain, not to discuss the trauma, until I was ready. So that’s exactly what I plan on doing now.

  The loss of control, the sheer violation on the deepest level, plus what it means to have another person in my head…much less a murderer… Well, I’m not ready to even think about any of that yet. So instead I’m going to do my best Dory impersonation and just keep swimming, just keep swimming. And—in this one instance—lie. “About like you would expect me to feel. Nauseated but it’s manageable.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Besides cry and eat a boatload of Cherry Garcia ice cream?” I offer flippantly.

  “I’m thinking two boatloads, but yeah. Besides that?”

  I tell her about the spell and the five things we have to get to turn Hudson human again.

  “So that’s why Hudson made you take the athame?” she asks, astonished. “He wants out, too?”

  “That’s what he says. Although he was only going for the four items. He has no interest in being turned human.”

  She looks alarmed. “We can’t let him out if he still has his powers. You know that, right?”

  “Believe me, I know. I’m just not sure how long I can handle having him in my head.”

  “I can only imagine.” She moves to my bed and sits down next to me so she can wrap an arm around my shoulders. “But don’t worry. We’ll get started tomorrow on figuring out how to get the last three things. And we should probably rope Flint in. I bet he’ll have some ideas about how to get the dragon bone.”

  “I don’t— You don’t—” I break off, not sure how to say all the things I’m feeling right now.

  “I don’t what?” she asks.

  “You don’t have to do this with me. I mean, it sounds like at least two of the tasks are going to be really dangerous, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “Are you kidding me right now?” Macy demands, and she looks outraged in a way I’ve never seen from her before. “You really think I’m going to let you do this by yourself?”

  “I won’t be by myself. Jaxon—”

  “Jaxon won’t be enough. I know he’s like super powerful and all that,” she says, waving her arms in a woo-woo kind of gesture. “But even he can’t take on the Unkillable Beast and win—even if you are there to help him. There’s a reason the thing is called ‘unkillable.’ I’ve heard stories about it since I was a child. To be honest, I didn’t think it was a real thing. More like the monster your parents warn you about so you don’t venture far from home. But if it’s real, I’ve got your back in defeating it.”

  “Macy.” There are so many things I want to say, so many things I want to tell her, but I can’t get any of them out. I can’t organize my thoughts, and I definitely can’t squeeze them through my too-tight throat. Finally, I settle on the one thing I can say. “Thank you.”

  She grins. “You’re welcome.”

  Then she reaches behind me and fluffs my pillow. “Let’s both get some rest. Tomorrow sounds like it’s going to be a big day.”

  I couldn’t agree more. My eyes close the second my head hits the pillow, and just as I’m drifting off to sleep, I swear I hear Hudson say, “Sweet dreams, Grace.”

  38

  Take Me Under

  Your Dragon Wing

  “Hey, New Girl! Wait up!”

  I roll my eyes at Flint but move to the side of the hallway to wait for him anyway. “It’s March. When are you going to stop calling me that?” I ask when he finally catches up to me.

  “Never,” he answers with his usual grin. “I have a present for you…”

  He waves a packet of Pop-Tarts in the air above my head, but I easily jump up and snag them. I overslept this morning and am so hungry because of it that I almost pat the familiar silver foil wrapping and whisper, My precious.

  As we weave around the rest of the students in the crowded hallway on our way to History of Witchcraft, I quickly open the packaging and take a huge bite of the first pastry I pull out before sighing happily. Cherry. He knows me so well.

  “So…evil brother in your head?” Flint asks warily. He must see the question on my face because he quickly adds, “Macy told me.”

  I glance around the halls, note everyone who—per usual—is staring at me. As I do, I can’t help but wonder if Macy told the whole school. I mean, the other students have been staring at me since I first arrived at Katmere, so it’s hard to tell if I’m just the new gargoyle attraction…or the new gargoyle attraction with a healthy side of psychopath. Either way, a weight presses down on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

  “Hey, hey,” Flint says and places a strong hand on my back. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Macy just told me so you didn’t have to go through the trouble. On strictest confidence. I swear.”

  The skin around his mouth is pulled tight, and I suddenly remember what Macy told me several months ago—that Flint’s brother was one of those kill
ed in the tug-of-war between Jaxon and Hudson last year—and I feel like a total jerk. He must be as freaked out as I am that Hudson is back, and Macy figured she should warn him so he had a chance to process it in private.

  “It’s okay,” I tell him as we make our way through the door to class and slide into our seats in the middle of the room. “He can’t hurt anyone anymore.”

  “How sure are you about that?” Flint asks, an urgency in his voice that I’ve never heard from him before, even when he was trying to stop Lia. “You don’t know him, Grace. You can’t make blanket statements like that about someone as evil and powerful as Hudson Vega.”

  He’s deliberately kept his voice low, but obviously not low enough, because several people turn to look at us in alarm when he says Hudson’s name.

  “Evil and powerful, hmm?” Hudson strides into class and plops down into an empty seat on the other side of Flint, then proceeds to stretch…loudly. “I like the sound of that.”

  Of course you do, I think. Which says everything about you that I need to know.

  “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” he shoots back as he rolls his shoulders. “How long was I asleep, anyway? I feel amazing.”

  I lift one brow. That makes one of us—your snoring kept me up half the night.

  “That’s ridiculous! I do not snore.” He sounds so indignant that it’s all I can do not to laugh.

  Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

  “Hey, Grace. What’s going on?” Flint whispers as Dr. Veracruz walks to the front of the classroom, her five-inch heels making a clicking sound with each step she takes. “You’re just staring at an empty seat.”

  “Oh, sorry. I got…distracted.”

  Now he looks even more confused, not to mention a little annoyed. “By what?”

  I sigh and decide to just break the news to him. “By Hudson. He’s sitting in the seat next to you, all right?”

  “He’s sitting where?” Flint jumps out of his desk, much to my chagrin…and the amusement of most of the other students. “I don’t see him.”

  “Of course you don’t. Sit down, will you?” I hiss. When he doesn’t budge, I grab his hand and pull until he finally acquiesces. “It’s fine,” I reiterate. “It’s just a mental projection of his ghost that’s currently taking up residence in my head.”

  Hudson interrupts. “Hey now, I’m not a ghost.”

  I ignore him and keep my gaze on Flint, who looks skeptical but slides back into his seat, then leans over and whispers, “How could you possibly be fine with that in your head?”

  “Wow, Montgomery. Don’t hold back,” Hudson drawls. “Tell me how you really feel.”

  Will you please shut up? I snarl at Hudson but still keep my gaze trained on Flint. “Trust me. He’s been neutered. Nothing more than a Chihuahua in my head, all bark, no bite.”

  “Wow, thanks. I am not a neutered pet,” Hudson says with an offended sniff.

  Keep it up and I’ll figure out how to actually neuter you. I turn and hold his gaze so he knows I mean it.

  “There are the claws I’m so fond of.” He grins at me. “You really do have a bit of the badass in you, Grace, even if you don’t believe it.”

  Flint touches my arm to get my attention again. “How do you know?” Flint whispers as the teacher gives us the not-so-side-eye. “How can you be so sure he’s not a threat?”

  “Because, for now, the only power he’s got is to talk me to death. Plus, I’m sure Macy told you we’ve got a plan to get him out of my head and make him completely human.”

  “It’s a bad plan,” Hudson interjects.

  “Yes, she did, and count me in,” Flint says, even as Dr. Veracruz starts making her way toward us, her heels hitting the ground like shots from a gun in the now-quiet room.

  “For what?” I ask.

  “For whatever plan you’ve got to take the fangs out of Hudson,” Flint answers. “Because I am totally down for that.”

  “Oh, hell no.” For the first time, Hudson looks totally alarmed. “No way am I putting up with Dragon Breath over there while we try to figure shit out.”

  I smile at Flint. “That’s a really great idea. I would love your help. Thanks.”

  “It’s a really terrible idea,” Hudson grouses as he settles back in his seat with his arms crossed in front of him. He looks like a three-year-old on the verge of throwing a temper tantrum, full-on pout definitely in evidence. “Dragon Boy has a ridiculous temper.”

  Dr. Veracruz walks back to the front of the class and starts writing dates on the chalkboard. With Flint focused on taking notes, I turn my head just slightly toward Hudson.

  That’s a little stereotypical, don’t you think?

  “I wasn’t talking about all dragons,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “Just this dragon in particular.” For the first time ever, Hudson looks…ashamed? “Let’s just say I know the family.”

  “Miss Foster!” I jerk to attention as Dr. Veracruz all but shouts my name.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Are you planning on answering my question or are you going to spend the whole class period staring at an empty seat?”

  “I wasn’t—” I break off as my cheeks flood with heat, because what am I going to say? That I wasn’t actually staring at an empty seat, I was just arguing with a voice in my head?

  Yeah, because that sounds like a totally rational argument…not to mention a one-way ticket to social suicide.

  “I’m not just a voice in your head!” Hudson snaps indignantly.

  “Yes, Miss Foster?” Dr. Veracruz’s voice slices like a guillotine. “What exactly is it that you weren’t doing? Besides not paying attention in my class?”

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her, giving up because there’s no reasonable explanation I can put forth. And because the sooner I humble myself, hopefully the sooner she’ll go back to the front of the class and leave me alone. “I won’t let it happen again.”

  For long seconds, she just stares at me. Then, just when I think she’s going to turn away and head back to the front of the classroom, she says, “Since you seem so eager to make up for your lackadaisical attitude so far in this class, why don’t you explain to us about the true enemies of witches during the Salem Witch Trials.”

  “The true enemies of witches?” I ask faintly, because I have absolutely no idea how to answer that question. Everything I was ever taught in school told me that there were no real witches in Salem. Then again, everything in my old life told me witches don’t exist. So maybe she has a point.

  “Um, witches during the Salem Witch Trials…” I mumble, hoping for divine inspiration before I make an even bigger fool of myself in front of the class. Unfortunately, nothing is coming.

  At least not until Hudson says, “Tell her the real culprits of the Salem Witch Trials weren’t the Puritans.”

  What do you mean? Of course they were.

  “No, they weren’t. The Witch Trials were a power play by vampires, plain and simple, and the people who died there were pawns in a petty battle that a lot of people hoped would spawn the Third Great War—including my father. But they were wrong.”

  39

  Salem WTF Trials

  My mind is blown, completely blown, by this alternate version of history that Hudson provides. Part of me thinks it’s total BS, but with Dr. Veracruz standing right in front of me looking like she plans to turn me into something slimy if I don’t answer her soon, I decide to just go for it.

  I repeat what Hudson explained to me—minus the whole “my father” reference—and one look at her stunned face tells me everything I need to know. Namely that Hudson didn’t lie and that Dr. Veracruz didn’t expect me to know anything about the trials.

  The rest of class passes in a blur, largely because Hudson is in a very talkative mood this morning. And since I’m the only person who can hea
r him, I’m the lucky one who gets to hear all the things about all the things. Lucky, lucky me.

  I pack up quickly when the bell rings, determined to get to my Physics of Flight class on time. It turns out Flint is in the advanced class right across from mine, so we end up walking together. Something that, for no reason I can ascertain, makes Hudson cranky as hell.

  “Do we really have to spend all day talking to Dragon Boy?” he complains. “What could you two possibly have in common?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. How about the fact that we both despise you?” I fire back, not caring that Flint has an amused expression on his face as he watches me chew out the air next to him.

  “Believe me, that’s not exactly an exclusive club,” Hudson answers with a snort.

  I roll my eyes. “Which should tell you something about your people skills.”

  “All it tells me is that people are even more small-minded than I imagined.”

  “Small-minded?” I ask incredulously. “Because they didn’t go along with your little ‘conquer the world’ plan? How shortsighted of them.”

  Flint barks out a laugh but doesn’t seem to mind that he’s only privy to my side of this ridiculous argument.

  “Hey, the world could do a lot worse than to be ruled by me,” he says. “Look around.”

  “Wow. Arrogant much?” I ask.

  “It’s only arrogant if it’s not true,” he answers and nods toward the stairs that lead to Jaxon’s tower.

  I don’t have a clue how to respond to that, so I don’t. Instead, I turn to Flint and ask, “What’s this class about anyway? I mean, is it just the science behind flying or do we learn how to fly? How scared should I be?”

  “Most of us learn how to fly long before we get to Katmere,” Flint explains. “So this class deals more with the why than the how of flight. They call it a physics class, but there’s a lot of biology, too, because we learn about the structure and makeup of different wings. And we even dissect a few.”