Shadows and Sorcery: A Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Adkins, Heather Marie

  “Wait. What? Already?” I blinked in confusion.

  But he was gone in a flash, no longer there to answer my questions. I was left with my mourning family, who most assuredly would rather it be me that had turned into ashes. I looked around, and it was the disappointment in my father's eyes that caused the tears to finally cascade down my face.

  No words could have explained how sorry and confused I felt. I still didn’t understand or know what had happened and I wasn’t sure if I ever would.

  Feeling ashamed and unwelcome, I didn’t stick around to watch my family mourn. Or judge me. I gathered up my skirt with both hands, ducked my head down, and pushed past my family, not once looking up to see the hurt that was surely written on their faces. And then I ran, not stopping until I was outside of the restaurant. The crisp night air whipped my hair over my face, covering the tears that continued to fall. Hunching forward, I placed my hands on my knees and screamed into the quiet night.

  “Miss,” said a man faintly from somewhere close.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing it were all a dream.

  “Miss, can you hear me?” The man cleared his throat and continued. “You have to get in.”

  I looked up to find an old man dressed in a fitted black suit. He held open the back door of a black limousine.

  “What happens if I don’t?” I could barely speak through the sobs caught in my throat. I looked toward the car, then back to the dark empty street. This was my one and only chance at an escape. No one else was around. I was positive I could outrun the old man.

  Just as I was about to step off the curb and run, the elderly man spoke.

  “I wouldn't do that if I were you. Not only is there a spell on you from the Council to assure you’ll carry out your sentence, but even if you did manage to take off, they would hunt you down and find you in seconds.”

  Director Evans’ words from earlier played back in my mind. He was right. I didn’t have a choice in the matter. With a shuddered breath, I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand and ducked into the car.

  I shuffled over to the window and glanced out. My parents were across the road standing in front of their car. My mother was in my father’s arms, her head resting on his shoulder. Her eye caught mine, and I saw it then the anger burning in them as she looked at me in disgust. My father shook his head and they both turned their backs away from me. I placed my hand on the window, wanting to call out to them, wanting to tell them it was all a big mistake, that I never meant to hurt anyone. But I knew it was a lost cause. They had never accepted me before, and that wasn’t about to change now.

  I slumped back against my seat and placed my face in my hands. I was a monster. A monster who’d taken the life from someone. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I mourned my cousin. She had so much life left to live, such a promising future—and I’d taken that away from her. I killed her. I screamed out to the empty car, surprised it didn’t explode into ash.

  The bang of the door shutting cemented what was actually happening. Until right then I had been in denial. I realized then I wouldn’t be going home. My family didn’t want me associated with them anymore. My life had changed from the moment I’d turned my cousin into nothing but a pile of ash. I was now a criminal, facing who-knew-how-long at Wildwood Falls Disciplinary Academy. Given the choice, I would have rather been sentenced to Wildwood Prison. I deserved to go to prison for what I’d done; I’d murdered my own cousin. My head dropped and I clung to my dress.

  I wasn’t sure if it was magic or my inability to wrap my head around the situation, but time seemed to pass in a flash. Before I knew it, we’d pulled up to imposing, black iron gates. A security guard walked out of his post, checked the driver’s identity, and then the gates groaned open. We jolted forward. As the car made its way over the gravelly road, I didn’t look up once to check the surroundings. I would be spending enough time here over the next however-many months.

  When the car door clicked open, I took in a deep breath and stepped out.

  The building looked to have been built in the early 1800’s, the sand colored brownstone had started to peel back, showing its age. I looked up and counted four stories. Windows lined the building in each direction. I walked up the steps that lead to the entrance between two large boulders, decorative symbols swirled around them.

  I couldn’t tell if the shiver that ran through me was from the haunted look of the place or from the frosty night air.

  The lady standing in front of the entrance was an even worse sight. She looked to be in her late fifties, her salt-and-pepper hair was tied up into a tight bun that sat on top of her head. The scowl on her face told me that I was in for it. She moved forward with such grace, I had to wonder if she was floating.

  “Aha, so you are the infamous one who turned your cousin into ash,” the lady muttered under her breath. She looked me up and down, shaking her head. Turning on her heel, she went through the large, iron door. I gulped, knowing then and there that this school was going to be worse than hell.

  3

  “I don’t believe I have to warn you to keep quiet,” the woman said, her voice laced with ice. “You’ve arrived past curfew, and all our students have already retired for the night.”

  “I’m s-sorry, ma’am. I didn’t—”

  “You can address me as ‘Principal Grayson.’ And when I said to be quiet, that meant no talking. If you are this bad at following instructions, I imagine it’s going to be an extremely difficult time for you here.”

  I held back my apology and any explanation of innocence I felt the need to get out. Principal Grayson obviously didn’t want to hear it, and I doubted she would believe me anyway.

  Our footsteps clicked against the marbled floors, dimly lit sconces our only source of light. The ceilings had to be ten feet high, painted with murals of cherubs and swirling flowers. I supposed they were supposed to make us think of being good and wholesome, but they contrasted strongly with the dark cement walls.

  Principal Grayson stopped in front of a door that was inlaid with beveled glass. “This is my office. If you are instructed to come see me, you will come here immediately. If you have any questions, queries, or otherwise, you can find me here, at which point you will knock and wait for instructions to enter. Otherwise, my office is off limits.”

  I swallowed back a vocal answer and simply nodded.

  “It’s too late in the evening to give you a proper tour, so I will simply show you to your room. I must reiterate the importance of your silence, as your roommate is most likely asleep.”

  Roommate? I hadn’t expected I’d have to share a room.

  We ascended a large wooden staircase that creaked as it took our weight. Principal Grayson kept her chin high, not bothering to check if I was following her or not. At the top of the stairs, she snapped her fingers, and the sconces along the walls lit up. They weren’t bright, but I assumed she kept them dim on purpose. We trudged along the carpeted hall, passing a few wooden doors along the way. Finally, she stopped at one and turned around to face me.

  “This is your room,” she said, her voice kept low. “We have rules at this school, and one of them is keeping your belongings tidy.”

  “But I didn’t bring anything. I didn’t have a chance to pack a—”

  With the snap of her fingers, my suitcase from back home appeared at my feet. Principal Grayson raised a brow at me. I should have known the school was run by a powerful witch.

  “Tidiness,” was all she said.

  I nodded. “Yes, Principal Grayson. I understand.”

  “I will go over the rest of the rules in the morning. For now, get some sleep. Classes start at six sharp.”

  I held back a groan and gave her a nod. She pursed her lips and marched away from me, back down the hall toward the stairs.

  Blowing out an anxious breath, I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and turned the knob of the door. It didn’t make a sound as I pushed it open. Inside, everything was dark, save for the glow of
a street lamp illuminating a large window. The light saved me from having to search for a lamp, providing just enough brightness for me to spot the empty bed on the right side of the room.

  Keeping as quiet as I could, I set my suitcase down at the foot of my bed and slipped off my shoes. My feet were sore, and I was a bit lightheaded from everything that had happened. I slipped off my dress, resolving to sleep in the full slip I wore beneath it. I was too tired to bother changing into anything else or removing my makeup. All I wanted to do now was sleep. I would deal with everything else in the morning.

  The sheets were cold as I slipped between them, making me feel even more alone. My family probably wasn’t even thinking about me. Or if they were, it was almost assuredly with bitterness. They had to be relieved that I was stuck here, unable to cause any more damage or embarrass them with any other mishaps I might conjure up.

  A single tear slipped down my face as I nestled my head against my cold pillow. My gaze landed on the dark lump of a figure on the other side of the room—my roommate asleep in her bed. The pressure of the day pushed down on me, and my eyes began to close.

  Just as I was about to drift off, the shadowed lump shifted, and I held back a gasp as two eyes stared back at me. It was probably a trick of the light, but I could have sworn they were glowing. Clenching my teeth together, I forced myself not to shudder. I had to be imagining things. I was tired and needed sleep. That was the only explanation.

  Ignoring the panic that threatened to throw my heart into overdrive, I squeezed my eyes shut and told myself to get some sleep. But sleep didn’t come right away; instead, every time I closed my eyes, I saw Miranda’s mother weeping over a pile of ash. The pile of ash I’d turned my cousin into.

  Gone.

  She was dead.

  Miranda was gone forever, and I had killed her. Whatever she had done in our past, however insignificant she made me feel, she hadn’t deserved to be murdered. Had I been fated to become a monster? Was there any salvation for me? Would my family ever forgive me?

  A skittering noise roused me from my thoughts. It sounded like a scrapping against metal. Claws? No. It was a smaller sound. I tried to scan the darkness of the room, but nothing out of the ordinary caught my attention.

  The sound didn’t come again. Just silence. I pulled my sheet over my shoulders and squeezed my eyes shut, begging sleep to take me somewhere safe.

  * * *

  I was awoken by what I could only imagine was a far-off church bell. At first, the sound confused me, but when I sat up and looked around, I remembered where I was.

  Too bad it hadn’t been a dream.

  Remembering the creepy eyes that had bored into me the night before, I swiveled my head toward my roommate’s bed, but it was empty. And neatly made. It was so pristine, it could have been a display bed in a furniture store. Was my roommate that much of a neat freak? Or was this one of Principal Grayson’s rules?

  Checking my phone, which was low on battery, I gasped at the time. Classes would start soon. And breakfast would only be served for another twenty minutes. I still had to get ready and figure out where to go.

  I jumped out of bed and froze. Hanging in the corner, near the foot of my roommate’s bed, was a large birdcage. Inside it, a brown owl with bright green eyes stared back at me. That explained the claws on metal I’d heard last night. This must be my roommate’s pet.

  Getting my wits about me and remembering I was in a hurry, I threw open my suitcase, grabbing a top, underwear, and a pair of jeans. I spotted a door that I hoped led to a bathroom. After last night, I was desperate to wash all the shame away.

  The odds were surprisingly on my side, and after the quickest shower I could manage, I slipped into my clothes and ran out of my room, not even bothering to dry my hair. I was risking it turning out frizzy, but who could I possibly need to impress at this school?

  I almost tripped down the stairs when I spotted Principal Grayson. It was as if she were waiting for me, standing as stiff as a board at the foot of the stairs holding a yellow sheet of paper.

  “Good morning, Principal Grayson,” I said. I figured I could try to be polite. It might win me some points. Or it might not matter at all.

  “This is your class schedule.” She handed me the paper. “There’s a map of the rooms on the back so you won’t get lost.”

  “Thank you.”

  She didn’t smile back at me. “You better hurry. The kitchen just put the last of the eggs out, and I’m afraid the bacon is gone completely. You’ll need some energy to power through today’s classes, so get to it.”

  With that, she turned and headed back to her office.

  I checked the paper and whipped my head around, trying to figure out where I was and where I was supposed to go. Nobody was in the halls, and I was a bit astonished at how punctual everyone must have been. Was everyone in the dining hall? I rushed off down the hall, hoping I was going in the right direction, and also hoping I wouldn’t draw too much attention to myself by charging into the dining room so late.

  I could hear the clinking of silverware on flatware as I approached the large double doors that led into the dining hall. Rows of tables held dozens of students. I would have to guess there were between fifty or sixty kids roughly around my age. A few looked up, but mostly I was ignored. I supposed the students here were used to fresh meat showing up now and then. It gave me a small moment of relief to realize I couldn’t be the only witch getting into trouble in the world.

  Making my way to the cafeteria counter, I noticed some animals in the room. A parrot, a fox, even a giant tarantula were among them. Some were perched on students’ shoulders, and some pranced about the room or curled up at students’ feet. I realized they were familiars. I wondered if the students had brought their own pets or if it was something the school assigned.

  After grabbing a plate at the cafeteria counter and snatching the last two eggs in sight, I made my way to a table that was mostly full save one tiny spot at the end of a bench. When I got to the table, a lanky boy with reddish-brown hair moved his notebook to make room for me.

  “Thanks,” I said sheepishly. A strange thought suddenly hit me. I hadn’t known how I was able to turn my cousin into ash. What if my powers got out of control again? What if I accidentally turned someone else into ash? I averted my gaze from the boy, not wanting him to see my shame.

  “I’m Jeremy,” he said.

  “Reagan.” I dug my fork around into my eggs but didn’t take a bite. “I’m new here.”

  “I know,” he said. “I saw the car pull up from my window.”

  I furrowed my brow. Did I already have a stalker?

  Jeremy let out a small laugh. “Nervous I’ll ask you what got you sentenced to this place?” He watched me as he wiped his mouth and stood.

  I shrugged in response, still not at ease with looking into his eyes.

  “No worries, little lady,” he said, grabbing his tray and giving me a wink. “Nobody likes to be asked that. I’ll be a gentleman and spare you.”

  With that he walked away.

  I barely got three bites of my eggs before the bell rang for class.

  I wanted to ignore it. I wanted to skip class and mope in my room for the day. Mourn my cousin, if nothing else. But there was a pull inside me, something making me carry out my day of school. Then I remembered there was a spell on me, put there by the Council. I was bonded to this, and there was no escape.

  I stacked my tray in the return shelf and rushed out into the hallway. I squinted at the tiny map on the back of my schedule, harried to find my way. I ran down a corridor and took a right, hoping I wasn’t too far off from where I was supposed to go.

  Checking the numbers marked on the doors in gold, I found my first class and slipped into the room just as the bell rang. I cleared my throat, ignoring the stares from everyone in the room—including the instructor—and hurried to the first empty seat I could find.

  The ashy-blonde girl next to me gave me the smallest of smi
les. My stomach groaned from lack of food, and the girl looked away. So much for making friends.

  Facing forward, I found another pair of eyes on me. It was Jeremy. He was leaning against the back of his chair whispering to the dark-haired guy sitting behind him. In one hot second, the dark-haired guy glanced over his shoulder at me. Something strange coursed through my blood, like shards of ice in a river. Though I got a chill, my skin suddenly felt hot.

  Though he was sitting, I could tell he was tall. His dark hair contrasted beautifully with his light blue eyes, and I had to drop my gaze to keep from staring at him. I thought I heard a scoff, and I when I looked up again I spotted a girl seated beside him glaring at me. I recognized her eyes. Even in broad daylight, they seemed to glow. She had to be my creepy roommate—except she was beautiful, with flawless skin and silky, cinnamon-colored hair. She had the most perfect nose I’d ever seen on a person. I felt like I was looking at a fairy. That wasn’t entirely out of the question. Again, I forced myself to look away.

  “We’re continuing our conversation about rescuing spells,” the instructor announced to the class. Behind him on the board, the name “Professor Ingleton” was written in chalk. “The purpose—again, for those of you who were not paying attention yesterday—is to determine when to and when not to interfere.”

  With a wave of his wand, the professor created an illusion beside him of a little girl reaching for a cookie jar on a counter. The illusion was almost solid-looking, but if I squinted, I could see through it. Above the girl was a microwave. In her efforts to reach the cookie jar, she pulled on the cord of the microwave, which started to slip forward, closer to the edge.

  “As you can see, there is the possibility of danger here. Christine,” the professor said, looking at the ash-blonde girl next to me over the rim of his glasses. “What would you suggest as a rescue spell in this situation?”

  She shifted in her chair. “I guess, um, immobilize the microwave?”