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

by Adkins, Heather Marie

  * * *

  The ballroom was located in the east wing of the building, far away from the classrooms. Laurel said that they used to use the room for grand balls and parties for royalty. I walked in, mesmerized by the size of the place. The ceiling was high and large silver columns were spread out in a circular pattern in the room, with the dance floor in the center. Tables sat on the outskirts of the dance floor. Large double doors at the back of the room stood open, leading out to a courtyard, where various stands were set up displaying a few games the students and teachers could play.

  A couple of my classmates walked about, dressed in white shirts and carrying silver trays which carried drinks and hors d’oeuvres. It was still early, so there weren’t too many attendees who were there strictly to enjoy themselves.

  There were two-foot high center pieces on each table, and silver and gold sequined streamers reached from each column to the center of the high ceiling. I had the sneaking suspicion whoever had the job of decorating the ballroom had used a little magic to help them out.

  I was so caught up in taking in the view that I jumped when a hand settled on my shoulder.

  I swallowed a gasp and spun around to find Killian smirking at me.

  “Do you have to sneak up on me?” I asked, begging my heart to stop hammering in my chest.

  “I didn’t.” He gently moved a strand of my hair off my shoulder. “You were just so lost in thought that you didn’t hear me call your name.”

  I cleared my throat, taking the slightest step back. Just the other day, he had kissed me. Then he seemed to have played mind games with me, and today, he’d vanished from sight. Until now. What the hell kind of game was he playing?

  “I thought you said you wouldn’t be caught dead here,” I said.

  “Yeah, well, you know, vampires. We can be rather fickle. Change our minds a lot. Follow our fancies on a whim, devil be damned.”

  I narrowed my eyes and shook my head, utterly confused. “Is there something you wanted from me?” I asked. “Because I really need to get to work.”

  He looked me up and down, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Ah, I was wondering about the outfit.”

  “Yeah, well, some of us would like to get out of this school as quickly as possible. I told you. I’m working the festival.”

  He nodded. “I get that. Just, uh, don’t overwork yourself.”

  I wrinkled my brow at him.

  “I wouldn’t want to see you stressed out,” he said. “Maybe after a couple of hours, you could call it a night.”

  “Why do I have the feeling you’re trying to get me to leave?”

  He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his black slacks. It dawned on me that he was wearing all black, and his black button-up shirt showed off his nice form. I shook my head, scolding myself for letting my thoughts get away from me. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said.

  “What’s really going on?” I asked. “Laurel told me you were warning her off from even coming tonight.”

  He let out a small laugh. “Laurel exaggerates. I simply mentioned that these parties weren’t really her style. She’d be bored.”

  “Of course she’ll be bored; she’s working tonight, not coming as a guest.”

  “Still. It’s probably not worth her time.” He looked away, toward the open doors. If I had to guess, I’d have thought he was searching for something out past the courtyard.

  “Ms. Dakana,” said a voice from behind me.

  I turned to see the home economics teacher gesturing for me to come to her. I gave Killian an irritated face. “Gotta go.”

  “See you later,” he said.

  “Or not,” I mumbled.

  “We’ll see,” he countered, a smirk playing on his lips.

  I followed the home economics teacher to the serving station, where she handed me an apron and a silver tray. “I want to see you with this tray in your hands at all times, and if it’s ever empty, you are to rush back here and refill it.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  I glanced back over to where Killian had been standing, but he was gone. In that second, a strange chill ran over my body, as if icy cold fingers had trailed down my skin. I didn’t know why I suddenly felt so freaked out, but something inside me was telling me to be careful.

  12

  For the next thirty minutes I plastered on a smile, rolled back my shoulders, and worked the crowd. I noticed that everyone here came from a lot of money, they were dressed up in the most beautiful full-length gowns and men in tailored suits. I overheard one couple talking about how their donation was going to a good cause. So that was what this event was for. To celebrate and see where their money went. They looked down on me as I offered them food and napkins. I sighed in relief when I ran out. As I made my way back in search of the teacher, I ran into Christine. She, too, had an empty tray in her hands.

  “You’re empty too, huh? Where’s the kitchen?” I glanced around the room, looking for Killian. I was still on edge about his weird behavior earlier and I wanted to keep an eye on him. But he was nowhere to be found. I moved my neck against my shoulder to feel Rascal, but then I remembered that he was back in my dorm room; no familiars were allowed here tonight. That little fella had grown on me, and I missed his company.

  Christine grabbed my arm and pulled me through the crowd.

  “Daydream much?” she commented.

  My cheeks flamed red. Once again caught daydreaming about Killian. I ignored her as we walked toward the bar area. We continued past, and she pushed us through a set of double doors. They swung shut, and the breeze caused me to shiver. Christine instantly let go of me.

  “Oh, thank goodness you girls are here. The catering crew we hired stormed out moments ago and we still need to get more hors d'oeuvre made.”

  “Made?” I asked. But we don’t know how to make these.”

  Ms. Marble grunted. “Fine. You two make more desserts then. The recipe is on the work station counter. Go, go!”

  She rushed away from us, and Christine and I shrugged at each other, not knowing exactly what we were supposed to do. Christine made her way over to one of the work stations where students were gathered around. I looked around, taking in the kitchen space. It was much like the home economics room in the main part of the school, but this one was much bigger, clearly intended for functions—catering for large crowds much like tonight’s event. There were ten work stations, each fully equipped with everything you would need to cook up a storm. Large ovens with stoves, sinks, and plenty of space.

  “Reagan, get over here. I need your help!” Christine yelled out, waving me over.

  She looked flustered, her cheeks red. She’d gathered ingredients and was set up on one of the work stations at the farthest end of the kitchen, the last one next to a door that looked like it went outside to a courtyard. I made my way over to Christine. Ms. Marble stepped in front of me and handed me a white apron. I gave her a tight smile, taking it from her hands. Something crossed between us as I touched her hand. A spark hit my fingertips. I quickly pulled my hand away and kept walking, not wanting to cause a scene.

  I met Christine at our table. She was busy cutting up some apples. I gave myself a second to put on my apron and think about what had just happened with the teacher. Had she intentionally sparked me? Or was I reading into something that wasn’t there? This whole night had been giving me the creeps. First with Laurel and her interaction with Killian warning her off coming tonight, then Killian being weird in front of me earlier. Something just felt off.

  After tying my apron, I met Christine at the bench. She didn’t look up as she passed me some green apples and a knife. I quickly got to work cutting up the apples. She had an old recipe book out in front of us. It had handwritten notes on old worn-out paper that looked as though it would break apart at a touch. I read the recipe she had opened. “Miss Anderson’s Famous Apple Pie.” My tummy instantly rumbled.

  “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s hungry,”
a voice said behind us.

  I turned around to see Laurel; she was tying her apron and came to stand beside Christine, nudging her with her hip. Christine let out a dramatic sigh.

  “I got told you girls needed some help getting this dessert out to the hungry guests,” Laurel said, reaching over to look over the recipe.

  “Yeah, I suppose more help would get us out of here sooner,” Christine said.

  She pulled over the ingredients, and we got to work, prepping everything to be ready for cooking.

  Christine picked up the chopping board that had all the cut apples on it. She placed them into a pot of water and attempted to turn on the gas stove. She flicked the igniter several times, but it didn’t produce any flame. Christine sighed loudly.

  “Argh. We don’t have time for this shit,” she mumbled under her breath.

  “Don’t worry about it. We can do some magic and get it working right?” I suggested, moving next to Christine at the stove.

  “We could try. I’m not sure if it would do any good. But if we’re doing it, we have to hurry and do it without the teacher seeing. We’re not meant to mix cooking with magic, at least not without practice first,” Laurel explained, huddling next to Christine.

  I wracked my brain, trying to think of the right spell for heating something up. All we needed was to get these apples boiled. I remembered my mother teaching me this one spell when I’d been younger. We’d been cooking potatoes on the stove and she’d read out this spell.

  Fire, fire by the power of three, give flame control to me, let me use fire, the fire is my need, give me my flamed light.

  “I’ve got it,” I said to the girls, clapping my hands together.

  I recited the spell while I brought up my hands, aiming them at the stove in front of Christine, who watched intently.

  “Fire, fire by the power of three, give flame control to me, let me use fire, the fire is my need, give me my flamed light.”

  Laurel beamed at me and joined in as I recited the spell a second time.

  Just as we spoke out the last word, I noticed movement to my left. I turned slightly to see what it was. Killian. He was running toward us. Blazing orange magic burst from my hands, heading straight for Christine. It all happened so quickly, I didn’t get a chance to stop the magic from leaving my hands. A loud explosion shook the room. I was thrown backward and landed hard against another body. A scream pierced my ears, and everything was drowned out by smoke.

  13

  My throat felt as if it were being scratched from the inside. I covered my mouth, coughing so hard, I thought my lungs would come up. Killian’s arm was around me at once, lifting me up. I turned to him, confused, not able to wrap my head around what had just happened. But I knew. I didn’t want to face the truth, but I knew that something terrible had just happened to Christine.

  I pushed away from Killian, madder at myself than with him, but needing to take it out on someone. Next to me, on the floor, Laurel was crumpled with her eyes closed.

  “Killian, check Laurel,” I said, and then I rushed over to Christine.

  No, no, no. This can’t be happening.

  I crouched down beside Christine’s unmoving form and held my breath. She wasn’t breathing. I lifted her hand and dropped it again. It flopped to the floor, cold and heavy.

  I put my hands on her shoulders and shook her, not knowing what else to do.

  “Christine, no! Christine. Please!”

  Behind me, there was a moan.

  “What happened?” Laurel asked.

  I turned my head to see her blinking, supported by Killian’s arm. Her eyes widened when she saw me leaning over Christine.

  “No.” she said.

  I shook my head, tears beginning to fall down my cheeks. “She’s not breathing,” I said.

  Looking at her again, I saw a small pool of blood behind her head. She must have hit it on the counter when the fire had burst. Not only had she gotten injured from the fire, she had a fatal-looking head wound.

  I glanced at Killian, noticing his eyes go dark. He was looking at the blood too. Black veins spread over his face in a spiderweb formation, and I could have sworn his fangs grew. And though he didn’t move an inch, I could hear a low growl hum in his throat.

  I swallowed hard, fear pulsing through me at what he might do.

  “Did I...” Laurel’s hands flew to her mouth and she scrambled to her feet. “I did it again.”

  “No, Laurel, it wasn’t...”

  Suddenly, the doors to the kitchen flew open. Miss Lattner, one of the home economics teachers, rushed toward us. There was still a small flame on the stove. Miss Lattner grabbed an apron and pounded the fire out.

  Laurel and I backed away, letting the teacher have room to inspect Christine.

  Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she wasn’t dead.

  Laurel shook beside me, her eyes glassed over with tears. I heard her mumble quietly. “I did it again.”

  I wanted to tell her it wasn't her, that it was my fault. I knew that flame had come from my hands. It was me. But before I could tell her, Miss Lattner jumped to her feet. “I need you three to go straight to Principal Grayson’s office. Now!”

  “Listen,” Killian said, his face back to normal but his brows still drawn down. He stepped toward Miss Lattner. “This was an accident.”

  “Young man,” Miss Lattner said holding her hands out in front of her. “I said you need to go to Principal Grayson’s office immediately.”

  “But you don’t understand! Why won’t you just listen to me?” Killian’s voice was loud and harsh, and I found myself flinching at his words.

  “How dare you take that tone of voice with me!” Miss Lattner shouted. She waved her hand in front of Killian’s face, and he backed away. “To the principal’s office at once!”

  Without another word, we all marched out of the kitchen and walked quickly to the office. Killian put a hand on my back, and I was in too much of a stupor to pull away from him. It took everything I had not to start freaking out.

  There were too many things whirling about in my head. Christine was dead. And Killian’s vampire nature revealed itself, however briefly.

  I wondered how he’d kept himself from pouncing on Christine and drinking her blood. I could only hope that he always had his impulses under control, no matter the circumstance.

  The three of us entered Principal Grayson’s office and shut the door. Laurel started pacing. Killian went over to the window, not facing either of us. I stood as still as a tree, biting my nails and wondering what was going to happen next.

  Had I just killed Christine? Had the monster in me come out again? Poor Christine! Another victim of my reckless power.

  There was no way Principal Grayson would let us go with just a warning. In fact, this was so serious, I could only imagine we would be sent away to jail or some other correctional facility that was even worse than this place. But maybe that’s what I deserved.

  It seemed as if we were waiting for hours before Principal Grayson finally came in. She marched in with squared shoulders and her lips in a straight line. She went promptly behind her desk and pulled out a large binder.

  “Miss Lattner has informed me of the incident in the kitchens. I’m sorry to announce that Christine is no longer with us.”

  Tears flowed down my face. I wrapped my arms around myself, barely able to speak. “No. No! She’s dead?”

  Principal Grayson took a deep breath. In that small moment, I could see the sorrow in her eyes. But as quickly as it came, she seemed to push it away.

  “This is, of course, awful news and very tragic. The worst possible thing that could happen, and there will have to be repercussions. Not just for those directly involved, but also for the school.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Laurel said, her high-pitched voice barely audible over her sobs.

  “I’m afraid we cannot let it sit unattended, however. We must find out all the details of the predicament now, while it’s fresh in your minds.
It is customary that I allow you each to say your part so that we have the full story. So which one of you wants to speak first?”

  “Principal Grayson,” Laurel said, her lips quivering. “I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t have any control. It just... It just happened.”

  “It wasn’t her,” I said, jumping in. “It was me. The fire came from my hands.”

  Principal Grayson looked between us. Her eyes narrowed and she let out a curt breath. “Well, I don’t think I’ve ever encountered two people claiming responsibility. I’m not sure who to blame. Killian, what did you see?”

  “Principal Grayson, I’m not going to be a big help. I’m afraid I didn’t see the source of the flame. I only saw the explosion, and when the smoke cleared, Christine was on the ground. I’m sorry. I wish I could say I saw more.”

  “Yes, well,” she studied him, her mouth drawn down at the corners. “I appreciate your honesty.”

  “The only thing I can think of,” Killian continued, “was that only one of the girls has been known to cause destruction with fire.”

  My jaw dropped. I wanted to argue. I knew it wasn’t Laurel; it was me. Even though I’d only ever accidentally killed using powers that turned someone into ash, I knew this was my doing. But Laurel nodded, bursting into tears.

  We couldn’t understand what she was saying, but her body language suggested she was admitting guilt.

  I turned to Killian, not able to grasp the fact that he was blaming Laurel. I was sure he’d seen the flame come from my hands. Why would he lie? Why would he protect me? He and Laurel were friends—if not more, from what I could gather. Why would he throw her under the bus like this?

  “Well, I will have to do some more investigating,” Principal Grayson said. “I would like the three of you to go directly to your rooms and wait for my instructions. I will have to call your family and report the incident. We wouldn’t want word to get out about this. Goodness knows there have been families in the past who sold this kind of information to the press, and it was a nightmare getting it all under control. We’re going to have to address this with careful consideration.”