Darkwells Academy: Written in blood: An academy paranormal/urban fantasy romance

by Abby James

  “I heard about Juliet’s class. Mr French still can’t get over how Juliet managed to send the balsic rock through the window. One of his worst students turned into his best in one day.”

  “I only wanted to give her a nudge. But I didn’t think that would happen. That’s why I need to learn to control my ability. If only I could meter out the energy. And I’m sick of avoiding everyone’s touch.”

  “You’ll learn. You just have to believe in yourself.” She gathered the text books she’d stacked beside her. Exams were over, but Lorna, like Jona, was driven to better her ability. “I’m going to head back to Kishani and read for a while before bed.”

  I finished the last of my carrot cake and left soon after Lorna, but made it as far as the lawn when Emrol caught up with me.

  “Hello stranger,” I said.

  Since I was no longer affected by Emrol’s gorgeous looks and seductive eyes, I enjoyed his company.

  “Heading back so soon, and alone.”

  “Amy is busy elsewhere.”

  “With that sorcerer Duncan. I just saw them now. I didn’t realize she had a thing for him.” He sounded put out.

  “Not everything evolves around you, Emrol. People do fall in love with other people. That is unless you are Mila or Pen. And where are the two Marcel sisters?”

  He shrugged. “I managed to escape.”

  “That would be a first. I’m sure they have planted a tracker on you so they can find you even on the moon.”

  His seductive smile would’ve worked months ago, but my immunity was solid, thanks to my desire for Luca.

  “How’s your training going?” Emrol said.

  “Slow and steady. Although I have to be the worst supe in Darkwells.”

  “And how is your training with Luca?”

  I hesitated.

  “Don’t think you are that secretive, Samara.”

  “Are you keeping an eye on me?”

  “I may be.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “I’ve been interested in you since you first arrived.” He shrugged, feigning innocence. “Call it a harmless fascination.”

  “Luca is a good teacher. McGilus—”

  “Cut the shit, Samara. I know this was Luca’s idea.”

  “Actually, it was my idea. Luca didn’t want to do it. But I coerced him into it.”

  He looked down at me for a few long moments, searching my eyes for the truth. “I have a major crush on him. Okay. I thought if I could force us together he would take notice of me.”

  It was better Emrol believe that than know the truth. Even though it was the truth, but not the entirety of it. Emrol suspected there was something off about me, but he could not guess everything, surely?

  “I would like you to visit the fae realm.”

  I stopped and turn on him. “You’ve got to be kidding. After last time. Do you really think I would fall for that? No way, Emrol.” I yelled as I walked away.

  “You miss understand me. You will not be enslaved. This is an innocent invitation, nothing more. My mother would like to meet you.”

  “Why would your mother be interested in me?” Mother’s were interested in their son’s girlfriends, not some random he happened to know.

  “The queen of the fae likes unusual things. She is most interested in you.”

  I ground to a halt. “Did you just say queen?”

  He nodded.

  “Your mother is the queen. That makes you—”

  “Prince of the fae realm.”

  “What about your father?”

  “In the fae realm the male line is not as important as the female line.”

  “I never would’ve guessed fae lived in a matriarchal society.”

  He grunted a laugh. “There is much that would surprise you about the fae. When lya is old enough she will inherit the throne.”

  He didn’t sound bitter about it. “And what will you become?”

  “I will always be prince. But my sister will have the more distinguished title. I will merely be the pretty prince. I like it that way as I have no responsibility.”

  Which would suit him to a tee.

  “Does that have something to do with why there are no female fae at Darkwells?”

  “Our females are too important to the fae realm.”

  “It sounds like a disguise for imprisonment.”

  “They make the laws, not us males. They aren’t trapped within the fae realm. They can move within the world if they choose. But they aren’t sent to Darkwells as it is felt to be too subversive.”

  “Why? Because they are trying to teach factions to get along and see each other as equals?”

  “They do not wish to see our laws influenced by the Darkwells ethos. They tolerate the males attending because we are not the decision makers.”

  “You are just sent to look beautiful and distract all the human females.”

  His laugh was genuine this time.

  “Not wanting to diminish you at all, but it seems you guys are expendable.”

  “I would rather my fate than my sisters. Running a kingdom is a twenty-four hour job.”

  “But very rewarding.”

  “Not rewarding enough for the effort involved.”

  “What do you plan on doing with your life?”

  “I will stay at Darkwells for as long as my mother permits and then as long as my sister permits. I like it here. I find humans very entertaining.”

  “You mean you find us easy to beguile.”

  “That as well.”

  “What sorts of things will you sister have to do besides sit on her throne and look beautiful?”

  “She will have to protect the realm from supe invasion.”

  “I thought everything was peaceful now.”

  “It is on the surface. But many supes see our realm as the last vestige of sanctuary from the encroaching wissend.”

  The sound of someone running behind us broke our conversation. I turned to see a young woman running toward us.

  “Are you Samara?” she said once she caught her breath.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve been sent to tell you Ms Lane is awake. Dean McGilus is with her now. And he thought you may like to see her.”

  “God yes, thanks for that.”

  I turned to Emrol. “I will consider your offer. I too am curious to meet your mother. But I’m going to check this is not a trick before I go.”

  Emrol splayed his hand either side of him. “I would never dare trick you again, Samara. I now realize you are too smart for that.”

  I backed away, smiling at him. He bowed.

  Really he was too luscious and cheeky to stay angry with.

  8

  Medic was on the ground floor, toward the back of the castle. I had visited the day I arrived and thankfully remembered my way. The room was large and airy with huge bay windows kept open most of the time to allow the fresh air to flow through. The healers believed in the regenerative power of nature. Through the one class I had attended on the Restorative Power of Nature, I learned that healers were sensitive to the rhythms of the natural word and could tap into the essence of nature’s healing power when what they had inside was not enough. Healers had an affinity to all living creatures and were often seen wandering the gardens or through the forest as a means of restoring their own equilibrium.

  I scanned the long row of beds until I spied McGilus sitting in a chair by the bed closest to one of the bay windows. The healers had raised one end of Ms Lane’s bed, and her and McGilus appeared deep in conversation. He glanced up as I approached and nodded his head in my direction. Ms Lane, following his gaze, turned to me. Even with her pale complexion she looked at peace, her smile welcoming me close.

  “I see my message reached you in good time.”

  “Yes, thanks for letting me know.”

  This close I could see the tightness around Ms Lane’s eyes and the flat glassiness of her stare. The spell was a powerful one to last this long even af
ter the healers had worked their magic.

  “I will leave you both to talk. I have other matters to attend to. I invited you here, Miss Wright, but see to it you don’t tire Ms Lane out with too much chatter.”

  “I won’t.” I flashed him an innocent smile.

  I waited for McGilus to go before I slid down onto the bed beside her. “You look good for someone who’s just come out of an induced coma.”

  “The healers at Darkwells are amazing.” Her voice sounded tired. I shouldn’t stay long. I stared at the paisley pattern of her bedspread unsure of how to start the conversation. The last time I saw her she was speaking with another’s voice and trying to force me through a portal.

  Ms Lane saved me the stress of what to say. She placed her hand over mine and the soothing waves of her ability caressed over me like a mother’s hands. Ms Lane was back, the wonderful, tranquil woman I had met on my first day at Darkwells.

  “I am so sorry, my dear. You know I would never have done anything to hurt you if I was of my own mind.”

  “I know that. I don’t blame you at all.”

  She pushed back into her pillow. “Being possessed like that.” The memory seemed to age her before my eyes. “It was a dreadful feeling. I will spend the rest of my days remembering how it felt.”

  “What did it feel like?”

  “I knew what I was doing, but I was powerless to stop myself. He was in me. I could feel it, dictating my actions and speaking through my words. I tried to fight him, but he was too strong, the curse too great.”

  Ms Lane tightened her grip on my hand. Her troubled emotions, like aliens in her body, flooded into me. It was horrible to feel such heavy emotions come from such a gentle person. Of all the people he could have chosen to inflict his greed and hatred on, why did it have to be Ms Lane? Being an empath, every malicious intention and deed she would suffer tenfold.

  I placed a hand on top of hers and tried to think happy things. If I could funnel in her empath ability then I could reflect it back, make her feel good about herself and at peace instead of miserable. I smiled while I did it to remind myself I was supposed to be full of good thoughts, despite feeling the opposite, but all I saw was the way she had looked at me, the hunger in her eyes as she pinned me to the floor with an energy that was not her own. Ms Lane’s brow furrowed and she closed her eyes as if to block out what I saw. Christ, what was I doing?

  Time to switch tact. Happy thoughts, Samara. I thought of Luca’s kiss and how euphoric it made me feel.

  Ms lane sighed, her head falling sideways on her pillow. It was working. The crease on her brow softened and her lips parted as she gave a soft moan.

  Oh Jesus, I slammed down my feelings and thoughts. I was feeding her my own lust for Luca.

  “Ms Lane.”

  “Hmmm.”

  Dammit, I still had to learn to shut off my ability. I let her hand go. “I have something to tell you.”

  Her eyes flickered open. She looked so peaceful and happy I didn’t have the heart to say what I had to say.

  “Do you remember what happened to Merlin?”

  “Merlin?” She sat forward. “Is he all right?”

  “He flew into the portal, remember?”

  Her eyes widen. She palmed her mouth. “Oh, my poor friend.”

  “He saved me.”

  “This is all my fault.” She looked on the verge of tears.

  “No, don’t think like that. This is not your fault. This is Scullion’s fault. He’s the asshole that cursed you.”

  Her eyes flittered to mine. “What would he do with Merlin?”

  “You know Merlin. He’s too cunning and smart to be caught. He’s likely evaded Scullion and is loose within the city having a ball and causing havoc.”

  Ms Lane closed her eyes. “We can only hope.”

  “He’ll come back once he gets bored of his antics and gluttony, especially when he starts to miss you.”

  Ms Lane smiled a sad smile and rested her hand on mine. “You are so much like your mother. She had a kind soul.”

  “Thanks, that was kind of you to say.”

  Through her smile I could see her tiredness. “I’d better go. You look like you could do with a rest.”

  She nodded. “I’m not sure how knowing Merlin is out there alone.”

  “Do you want me to get a healer? They may be able to help you have a restful sleep?”

  She shook her head, “No. I will be all right.”

  I felt terrible leaving her looking so forlorn. She really cared for that little pain in the ass. But I had no more encouraging words. I could only hope Merlin was all right. He was cunning, but so was Scullion. Although I couldn’t see how Merlin would be of any interest to him. And if he was of no interest, I couldn’t see Scullion bothering with him. Hopefully Scullion didn’t do anything final about him.

  As if sensing they were needed, a healer arrived at Ms Lane’s bedside. The elderly woman frowned at me for lingering when it was obvious her patient needed rest. She shooed me away with her eyes, then turned to Ms Lane, placing a hand on her forehead. “It is time you rested some more, my dear. No point in taxing yourself for nothing.”

  Ms Lane’s limbs flopped down to her sides and her head lolled left. Watching it was kinda eerie, like her life force had just vanished. Not wanting to hang around and be put to sleep myself as a punishment for disobedience, I turned and hurried out the door.

  Once in the corridor, I pulled my scribe from my pocket and typed in bathroom. The footsteps illuminated across the bottom of the screen my current position. It headed up the screen and around the first bend. The feet then turned to face the first door, which flashed red.

  Of course I would find a statue to the left of the bathroom door, the figure of a female. I would’ve called it a woman if not for the cat shaped head and her long tail, which she held in one hand. Despite these two afflictions, the woman had a curvaceous body and ample breasts, swelled like melons with thick, pointed nipples. The sculptor had to be male to think of such detail.

  Inside and I could be excuse for forgetting I was in a bathroom. Marble spread the entirety of the room, across the floor and up the walls. A fountain took up the center space. The same figure standing left of the door stood in the center of the fountain. From her mouth spewed a jet of water which funneled down over her ample breasts to disappear at her feet into a pool. The water then tunneled down into a marble column and out of the row of faucets. The basins were in the shape of a shell and above each were mirrors. The corner of the mirrors were decorated with elaborate swirls looking like the tails of peacocks.

  After gawking for a good few minutes I headed for the closest cubicle and shut the door. I had to step up to sit on the seat, which was a large porcelain bowl. The flusher was a chain and on the end of the chain dangle what appeared to be a seahorse. Why wasn’t the bathrooms at Nylph this fancy?

  A faint vibration rippled up under my feet as I left the cubicle and walked across the floor to the basin. Was that a minor earthquake? Did earthquakes happen across the veil? I waited, expecting to feel the vibration again. When nothing happened I headed for the fountain.

  The moment I touched the faucet a tingle started in my finger tips, the barest feeling of a static charge. I jerked my hand away and the moment I did so the tingle stopped. It wasn’t the first time I’d received a small zap from a faucet, so it likely meant nothing.

  This time when I touched it there was more than a tingle. This was definitely the small juice of energy feeding its way inside of me. I could feel it funneling up my fingers and into my hands. From there it spread fast up my arms. As it did, it transformed from the feeling of energy into a thick substance rushing through my veins. The pain I felt as it moved along was like my veins swelling to beyond normal size. It was as if I’d been injected with a slimy ooze now making its way through my body.

  I went to pull away, but found my hand was stuck to the faucet. My heart jacked into rapid rhythm. Not only was my body feeling weigh
ted from the thick slimy feeling working its way inside, but my mind was slipping into major panic. The last time I’d been pinned to a faucet some asshole of Scullions burst through the door.

  I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to see someone there sneering at me, but all I saw was the shut door.

  “Help.”

  If I yelled loud enough someone in medic may hear. The corridor had been deserted when I made my way here, but someone may be passing.

  I gripped my wrist with my free hand and pulled, but it was stuck tight. Jesus, what was this? These things were not supposed to happen at Darkwells. No way would Scullion or any of his minions get through the wards.

  Maybe it was in my head. Maybe I was back in glamor, fighting against something that wasn’t real.

  I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. This couldn’t be happening. It was not real. But without opening my eyes I knew it was. My hand was still stuck. Using my left leg, I pushed against the base of the column to no avail. Soon my leg dropped to the floor weighted by the feeling of the horrible slime oozing through my veins. I could feel it creeping up my torso, up and up. I stretched as high as I could in a dumb ass lame effort to stop it from reaching my chest, but it kept moving, kept rolling along until it reached my chest. When it coated my heart I felt plunged into darkness and surrounded by a dread so great the terror seized my heart and lungs.

  From the darkness came hatred wearing a cloak of malice to drape across my shoulders. They drooped under the weight of such raw and ugly feelings. I was drowning. Was this how Ms Lane felt when she had been possessed? Was the same thing happening to me?

  Scullion, the asshole. I would not be his puppet. Somehow I found the strength to fight again. I wrenched my hand back, emboldened when I felt it move. I yanked again and again. Each time I dragged my hand a little farther across the faucet. I kept going and in my desperation I was only dimly aware of the pain on my finger tip. It wasn’t until I noticed the blood dripping into the basin did I realize I was gouging my finger on the rough surface at the bottom of the faucet. On seeing the blood, a manic impulse blanketed my sanity and I rubbed my finger back and forth in quick succession against the rough surface, grimacing against the pain, unable to stop.