by LJ Swallow
He takes my other hand and squeezes them. "Go back to your room. I'll bring you a hot chocolate. With marshmallow."
"If they let you into my room," I mutter.
"Leave the door open and we'll be fine." He pokes my nose. "If you're really lucky, I'll find two marshmallows."
As I wander to my room, Jamie's warmth and humour follow me, taking the edge off for a moment. At least until I catch the eye of two guards, the taller one with a buzz cut whispering something to his stockier companion.
They fall quiet and, as they stare at me, a chill replaces the warmth.
My time as the academy witch with unusual powers is over—I'm now firmly in the sights of the supernatural world outside of these walls.
Inside my room, I sit on my bed, tidy from not sleeping here last night. Amelia's bed also isn't slept in, and I slump against the wall as I think of her. Where the hell is she?
The photo of her and Matt is still propped on the nightstand beside the lavender and chamomile hand cream she uses. The tidiness reassures me of one thing—Amelia left voluntarily and the text message was genuine, not forced by somebody else.
What did she take when she left? Ignoring how intrusive the act is, I open her nightstand drawer and look inside for clues. Moving on, I search the drawers holding her clothes. The bathroom. The wardrobe. Everywhere. The drawers are half-empty of clothes and her rucksack missing. Amelia is headed on a long trip.
A light rap on the door stops my investigation and I look around. Please don't be someone taking me away for questioning. I'm too tired.
Jamie stands with two large mugs, white with the Walcott crest that matches the ring on his slender fingers. "Two marshmallows. I had to fight for them."
"I hope not."
"Nah. First in best dressed." He winks and nudges the door with his hip until it's almost closed, allowing us enough privacy without causing more issues.
Taking the warm mug in my hands, I sip the chocolate and the white marshmallow bumps my nose. "I tried to figure out what Amelia took with her."
A shadow crosses his face. "Did she take much?"
I nod. "I'm positive she left on her own, but I don't think she'll be back soon. Not voluntarily, anyway."
"Shit." Jamie sits on my bed and stares at Amelia's the way I did. "If anything happens to her..."
"I think this was planned. Amelia isn't reckless."
Jamie wrinkles his nose and sips from his mug. I join him on the bed and we silently drink for a few moments. The enormity of the day creeps up on me and hits my heart, forcing tears into my eyes. I take a ragged breath and cradle the mug, drinking to hide my face and distress.
Jamie sighs and takes my mug before setting both on my nightstand, then opens his arms. "Come here," he says quietly.
I'm grateful for his embrace as he enfolds me in his arms, and I hold him as tightly as he holds me, relishing the comfort in the middle of this shit storm. I push my face into Jamie's chest and inhale his clean scent. Jamie instinctively knows what I need as he tenderly strokes my hair, the sensation lulling the storm.
"I'm scared," I admit, the words half-muffled by his soft cotton shirt.
His heart quickens and he holds me tighter. "Everything will work out."
I curl into Jamie, arms around his waist as I hold onto my one anchor. I want to believe his words, but the unknown we face between now and when we fix the situation scares me.
As does something else. For the first time since I arrived at the academy, I'm facing a night alone.
"I wish you could stay with me. I don't know who might come in the room when I'm sleeping." I shiver at the thought. "What if they drag me away before I notice them? Or Lorna was killed by a Dominion member who lives amongst us?"
He lifts my chin and gives a small smile. "That won't happen. Plus, you can defend yourself if you need to."
"If I have the energy." My stomach backs up my words by growling at him.
"When did you last eat, Maeve?"
"I'm not hungry."
Jamie draws away and shakes hair from his face. This Jamie looks strange, with his eyes rimmed by dark shadows and a day's growth dusting his strong features. "A mug of chocolate and two marshmallows won't fill you up. I'll find you something else to eat."
"It's fine, Jamie. I'll wait until breakfast."
"And what if Tobias comes and asks us to leave? You're no use to anybody if you've no energy."
"I feel like I'm no use," I mumble.
His brows dip into a stern expression. "Wrong. People have failed to teach you properly. Tobias is right, we need you at full strength to fight whatever the hell is going on."
"But we all need to be together." I say. "Us. Ash. Andrei. Amelia."
"And we will be," he whispers and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "And until they're here, you have me. I'm not leaving you. Not until they drag me out." He's earnest and I believe him—Jamie barely left my side since this morning when he promised a grim Tobias that he'd watch over me.
My stomach growls again and Jamie laughs. "That's my answer. I'll bring us food."
I'm left with two half-empty mugs and a matching emptiness inside. Sipping my cooling hot chocolate, my thoughts return to the others who should be with us.
I'm terrified I'll never see Andrei again and have a new understanding about Amelia's grief over Matt. The extreme feelings I have—the hurt and loss—aren't because I spent one night with Andrei, but because he's become one of the most important people in my life.
He's my cornerstone; the guy who's as similar to me as he is different. Knowing how similar hurts my heart more, because only somebody who knows the real Andrei will understand how hard this is for him.
My throat thickens as I picture him alone and trapped by circumstance, and I silently beg for Tobias to have the answer.
I push the thoughts away and Ash jumps into my mind, piling the worry on. Where the hell is he? I have a strange feeling that he's okay, whether that's because I want to fool myself in order to cope better, I don't know. The universe sends me positive thoughts about Ash; thoughts of Andrei chill me.
I'm relieved when Jamie reappears in the room with two small, white plates and hands me one. A simple sandwich. White bread. Cheese. Salad.
He sits beside me again, one hand on my knee, as he eats his matching sandwich with the other hand.
I stare at the plate, hating the ordinariness in the middle of a crisis. One I'm powerless to help with.
For now.
"Please eat, Maeve."
"Do you think the others are safe?" I whisper, stomach churning again.
"We have to believe they are." His endless optimism seems at odds with the recent Jamie—the withdrawn guy fearing for his life. Has this situation knocked him back to the world? "What were Tobias's thoughts when you spoke to him earlier?"
How do I say Tobias was as freaked out as me—more rattled than I've ever seen him? And what about the other issue? Jamie needs to know.
"I have to tell you something." I pick at the edge of my sandwich. "About Tobias."
Jamie pauses in his chewing. "What's wrong? You've lost the rest of the not much colour in your face."
I half-smile. "Tobias told me why has was at Ravenhold."
"Why?" he asks. "Maeve? Tell me."
I've no way to sugar coat this. "He killed a witch," I whisper. "Witches."
Jamie almost drops his plate and stands. "What the fuck, Maeve?" I stare back, unable to say anymore. "I'm bloody glad you said something before he dragged us away from the campus to who the hell knows where."
"We can trust him, Jamie."
He stares at me. "I want to trust him, Maeve, and I started to, but this... This changes everything."
My chest tightens in alarm. "He's rehabilitated."
"You trust him?"
"What choice do we have? Tobias is our hope at digging Andrei out of this crap. I swear he's not the dangerous one in our lives. I have to trust my instincts about this. You have to trust them." Jamie shak
es his head and my heart beats faster at his silence. "I could've hidden this from you, but I'm proving there're no secrets." He purses his lips. "You trusted him, Jamie. When he returned the pendant to you."
"Please don't use the pendant as a subject change," he mutters.
"I'm not. I'm using the pendant as an example of why we can trust him."
Jamie huffs and drops back onto the bed. "I don't know who to trust anymore."
Reaching out, I take his hand and wrap my fingers around his. "We trust each other."
All of us. Once we're back together.
I move to snuggle up to Jamie, arms around his waist and head against his chest. “Things are bad. We need to stick together, Jamie.”
Jamie’s chin rests on my head, and he hugs me to him. I’ve spent the day coiled and ready to retaliate to whatever is thrown my way, unable to relax. His gentle guidance over the hours has gradually soothed me, and for the first time, I allow my racing mind to calm.
I switch my focus to how cocooned I am by Jamie, physically and emotionally, and nestle closer, inhaling his subtle spiced scent. Since day one, Jamie has been my rock—silent and strong; always there if I ask, despite his troubles.
“Nobody will drag you away,” he whispers. “And if anybody wants me to leave this room, they’ll need to drag me away.”
“Promise?” I whisper, tiredness pushing away the stress.
“I’m here, Maeve.” As he says the words, Jamie strokes my hair and brushes away memories of the terrible day. I’m safe. I can close my eyes. If I sleep, the world will be better tomorrow. Surely.
Chapter Nine
ASH
I lean forward, head in hands and elbows on my knees. My head pounds and I'd happily lie down and sleep again. I'm no stranger to serious hangovers, but today's the worst I can remember. As well as feeling like shit, I've an alcohol-induced memory blank. Again, not unusual, but never this bad.
I'm not the only one hungover—Clive and Remi look like they'll puke any second, and each time I get a whiff of the day-old pizza inside the farmhouse lounge, I'm close to throwing up.
I can't begin to count the number of empty beer bottles around us, strewn on the floor, sofa, and table. We've had one hell of a night.
"You okay, bro?" asks Vincent.
I look up, squinting at the bright-eyed and amused guy. "The academy won't be happy with you," I rasp.
"What? For taking my boys out for a bonding session?" He claps me on the back and I almost fall sideways. "Not my fault you don't know when to stop drinking."
I take a deep breath and concentrate on keeping my stomach contents where they should be. "No. For not returning us to the academy last night. You know Theodora doesn't allow overnight trips."
"Never?" asks Vince. "You took one once."
I frown. "How do you know about that?"
"News travels." He looks over his shoulder. "I'll get the guys together and we can leave."
I sink back in the sofa and grimace at the taste of stale beer in my mouth. News travels, but how would it travel to him? He was missing at the time and our ‘excursion' with Tobias to deal with the hunters is a secret.
As Vincent orders the guys around, something scratches at the edge of my mind. I saw something when I was drunk. Something that bothered me. Closing my eyes, I focus on every memory from last night.
Arriving here.
Beers and pizza.
Watching rugby.
Vince's rallying speech about how shifters need to make their own rules—I can remember almost every word of that frightening outburst.
And then? Hazy. More beers. I eye the bottle. Too many beers.
A washed-out Remi plonks himself on the sofa and grabs his muddy boots he discarded beneath the table. "Looking rough, dude," I say.
He wrinkles his nose. "Big night. Where'd you go?"
"Huh?"
"Last night."
I shake my head, trying to dislodge whatever blocks the memory. "I don't understand."
"You disappeared for a while. Vince told us you walked off sulking because you argued about his opinions."
"No. I don't remember that. I only remember being in this room."
Remi smirks. "Good old alcohol memory blanks. We didn't see you come back either."
"Right." I eye the spot on the sofa where I woke this morning. "We fight sometimes."
"Yeah, you've a bruise here." Remi points to his forehead. "Man, I wouldn't fight your brother. He's built like a house."
I touch my face. What the fuck is happening here? Did Vince knock me unconscious? He's capable—I realised that the night he lost his shit with me at his party.
"What did you guys get up to when I was gone?"
Remi sinks back against the sofa and glances at Vincent. "Not much. Spent time with Vince and his mates. A few drinks."
I eye his muddy boots. Outside.
"Where are Vince's mates now?" I ask.
He shrugs. "Went home, maybe?"
Or maybe they shifted and are still out there.
Vince reappears, tossing his keys in his hand as he calls at us to get our shit together. He cocks his head as he looks at me. "What's up?"
"Nothing."
I glance at Remi, who shifts his gaze between us and looks away. Something happened.
When we head outside, I'm surprised the sun is already beginning to dip in the sky. Last night was a late one, but did we really sleep until early evening? That's not entirely unusual for kids from a Nightworld academy, I guess, but if I slept that long I should feel better than I do now.
We jump into Vince's Land Rover as he stands beside the driver's door and calls somebody on his phone. The property looks smaller and more isolated in daylight, the flat moorland around stretching towards the valley. The barn with the corrugated grey roof and padlocked door is clearer too, a few metres from the old house.
As I wonder what's kept inside, an image begins to form in my mind. A dark space with boxes stacked around and—. A flash of pain hits as if someone has jabbed their fingers into my eyes. Wincing, I hold my head.
"I am never drinking again," I mumble.
Clive chuckles as he hops in beside me. "Yeah, I've heard that one before, mate."
Vince climbs in the van and starts the engine. As he drives us away from the farmhouse, he watches me through the rear-view mirror. Silent. Expressionless
The sleek, expensive car parked in the academy driveway could belong to any wealthy student's parent, but the number plate gives away who owns the grey Mercedes.
CONF01
A Confederacy representative.
"Oh no, you're in trouble for bringing us back to the academy late," says Clive with a chuckle, and he reaches over the seat to clap Vince on the shoulder.
He smiles back. "I'm not the one in trouble."
"Who is?" I ask.
The Land Rover judders to a halt and Vince immediately climbs out. He throws open the door and jerks his head towards the academy. "You all need to go straight to the Gilgamesh common room and wait there."
"Man, I'm tired. Can't we head back for a sleep?" asks Remi.
Clive shakes his head. "Dude, you already slept half the day."
"Yeah, but still."
I step out into the late afternoon and look around. "What's happening? Have the Dominion been on campus again? Shit." A myriad of scenarios spin through my mind. Is Maeve okay? What if they didn't come back from the club last night?
Vince wraps an arm around my shoulder, weighing me down as we head inside. "You know the Tepes kid, right?"
"Yes," I reply cautiously. "Why?"
"For once, the vamps and witches are at each other's throats and not ours." He smirks as if he's made a clever joke. "Literally."
"I don't understand."
A Confederacy guard stands unsubtly in the Gilgamesh house doorway and jerks his head towards the dorms and common room.
"Tepes. The kid killed a witch," says Vince.
Ice rushes through my vei
ns and freezes my heart as Maeve's face enters my mind. "Who?"
Vince pulls a ‘no clue' face and keeps walking. My legs feel heavy as I drag myself alongside him.
Maeve.
Holy shit. Andrei wouldn't kill her.
Would he?
Chapter Ten
ANDREI
I don't normally sleep well. Never have. Today, I can't because I'm worried I'll never wake again. Killing me in my sleep may not be the correct way to deal with the murderous vampire, but who knows how the Confederacy will handle the situation? They never expected a slaughtered witch in the academy, and I never expected the finger pointed at me for a murder on campus. New experiences for us all, I guess.
The authorities came in the daytime, interrupting dreams about my night with Maeve. I can't remember the last time I was so fucking happy and wanted to hold onto the feeling for longer, but the universe decided to screw me over again. The stocky guy who hauled my backside out of bed looked capable of screwing me over too.
A second guy walked in after him, grey hair, smart suit, big attitude. He looked at me as if I'd killed his dog and in my bleary confusion, I had no idea what was happening.
My first mistake was to laugh when he told me a witch had been killed and he'd come to bring me to justice. My second was attempting to leave the room. The big guy dragged me back inside and promised I'd pay if I tried to leave again.
He's guarding the door now—I've heard others talk to him. As if I'd try to run again—I wouldn't get far, and they'd accuse me of confirming my guilt. Mr. Suit didn't speak to me for long or question me about my movements. As soon as he made a comment about my mother and my past indiscretions with humans, I knew I was fucked.
Tobias forced his way past the guards early this evening and spoke to me briefly. He didn't have any information, but promised he'd help. I thanked him, but what's one guy against the might of the Confederacy? I asked Tobias who he thinks murdered the witch and he doesn't know.
I'm desperate to contact Maeve, but they confiscated my phone. For a moment, I picture the amusement on her face that I'm separated from my phone. Tobias knows about us, his face dark with fury when he demanded why I'd been so stupid. Maeve doesn't understand exactly how taboo what we did is, but I refuse to apologise.
