A soft purr draws my attention as Keaira jumps onto the bed and snuggles up to my thigh; my lips twitch at Lore’s annoyance, and her muttered words in my mind.
Keaira purrs into my hand as she snuggles back down, and I continue to stroke her until the racing in my chest doesn’t feel like a herd of wild horses stampeding across a deserted field.
“Mistress, if you’re ready, we must get going,” Lore says gently. “The guards are changing over. We only have a small window of opportunity.”
“Right,” I whisper. Gently picking up Keaira, I set her to the side so I can slide out of bed. I move around my room light on my feet as I slip on some dark work-out clothes and tie my hair out of my face. A quick glance at my clock tells me dawn will break in an hour.
Lore lands on my shoulder as I approach the door and twist the handle. I open it slowly and step out, careful to avoid all the creaking floorboards until I reach the stairs.
Halfway down, I freeze, hearing movement in the kitchen.
“The brownie?” I whisper to Lore. She ruffles her feathers in a shrug.
I continue down and curiosity has me taking a detour to poke my head into the kitchen.
But a familiar golden head of hair meets my eyes instead. I stop and move to turn, but my sneaker falls on the only loose board in the living room and lets out an almighty squeak. I grimace and turn back to the kitchen to see Paxton watching me, one eyebrow raised.
“You know, you just ruined my fun,” I say as I enter the room as if I had meant to all along. “I was expecting a brownie, but here you are, probably getting about as much sleep as I do… If you can call nightmares sleep,” I mutter as I turn on the tap and pour myself a glass of water.
Paxton nods and grunts as he swirls his glass in front of him. His eyes travel up and down my body, not admiring, more scrutinizing, and I realize how strange my attire must look at this hour.
“I like to go for runs when I have a nightmare. Helps to exhaust me… makes sleep easier, you know?” I say. It’s not an exact lie, either. But he seems to accept it and looks back down to the counter, his blond hair falling in thick strands over his eyes.
I take a sip of my water and watch him over the rim. His expression is haggard; dark bruises span his under eyes and the rest of his face is covered in sweat. Is this what Lore sees every day when I’m lost in my nightmares?
I drain the rest of my glass and wash up my cup. Moving toward Paxton, I hesitate before squeezing his shoulder, and he jumps as his eyes snap to me. “I don’t know what you’ve been through, but if you ever want to talk, I’m here. Or if you want to watch movies or play board games when you can’t sleep, come and get me. It would be nice not to have to be alone,” I whisper, hating how vulnerable I sound and feel.
Why do I care? I’m not a nice person.
I shake myself from those helpful thoughts, my feet already on their way out of the kitchen when his hand grabs mine, drawing me to a stop. When I turn, his eyes flash with emotion before he nods, a small smile on his lips.
“I… I’d like that,” he whispers, and my eyes widen.
His cheeks heat as I continue to stare; his voice, though small, wraps around me like caramel. I shake my head trying to get the way it sounds out of my head.
“I knew you could talk but… Damn, Paxton. Are you sure you aren’t associated with Peitho, because you could persuade me to do just about anything with that voice.”
He shakes his head, but his eyes twinkle a little at that, and I narrow my eyes on him. I sift through all the knowledge I have on the gods and goddesses and their creations until a beautiful woman with a fishy tail pops into my mind. I lean back onto the counter, eyeing him dubiously. “No… You’re one of his?”
Paxton nods, then winces at the girlish squeak that escapes my lips.
“Holy shit, have you been to his underwater temple? Have you seen his trident?” My grin stretches across my face, and he snorts, shaking his head with raised eyebrows.
My jaw drops as realization dawns on me, and I roll my eyes at him. “Paxton, I mean his trident. Like, the pronged weapon of the gods… but I mean, if that’s what Poseidon calls his—”
Paxton’s hands cover my mouth, muffing my next few words.
“I… have seen his trident…” he says.
I lift his hands from my mouth and laugh at the mixture of humor and discomfort in his eyes. “You’re never going to be able to see Poseidon’s trident the same way anymore, are you?”
He releases a huffed laugh before shaking his head. “No. It will be very… uncomfortable.” But his eyes soften as they roam over my face. “Thank you. For not… being scared of me. Most people, when they realize what I am, usually run for the hills, but you,” he pauses with a shake of his head and a small smile. “I enjoyed today.”
A mixture of emotions whirl inside me, and I do the only thing I can think to do to. I fist-bump his chest and say, “No problem, man.”
His eyebrows pinch together. I look away as my cheeks flush. “I’m, uh, going to go on that run. Sweet dreams, Pax.” I spin on my heel and head out of the kitchen.
“God, Serena. Could you be any more awkward?” I mutter as I open the front door and close it softly behind me. “The poor guy tries to thank you, and you fist bump him? Who does that? Oh, wait! I do.” I drag my hand down my face as I jump down the porch steps, two at a time.
“Mistress, do you think you could contemplate your romantic affairs at a moment less pressing? Or at least more quietly?” Lore growls in my head.
“Sorry,” I whisper as we trek toward the academy. The moon’s light illuminates the grounds in an eerie, yet beautiful way. The cool air brushes against my skin, helping to cool my racing heart.
I pause when I reach the dark staircase up to the academy’s entrance, Lore flying low behind me, and watch the shadows behind the windows. Nothing moves, so I creep up the steps, light on my feet as if stalking a victim, and stop to peek my head around the open doors.
Down the hall on the left, a warm glow spills from an open door into the hallway. The library is open all hours for the use of any light-night studiers, but luckily, where I need to go is in the opposite direction.
My steps are quiet as I move closer to the teacher’s lounge, which leads to the hidden vault under the academy. I stop outside the mahogany double doors and listen again, both inside the room and down the hallway I stand in.
More silence. I breathe out a sigh of relief.
“And you’re sure we’ll be able to disarm the protections surrounding the relics?” I whisper, and Lore lets out a soft hoot.
“The door is sealed; only those in a position of authority can open it,” she whispers and opens her left talon; a few strands of hair float down onto my palm.
If Declan is truly royalty, then the door should open.
With bated breath, I place the hairs in my palm and cup them against the doorknob as I turn it. A soft click rings out from the lock, and I let out a deep breath, my whole body practically slumping as I push the door open.
“I was afraid it wouldn’t work,” Lore whispers, and I let out a light chuckle.
“Me too.”
I peer inside the expansive room, my heart basically in my throat as I take in the empty sofas and tables. Hurrying inside, I close the door behind me quietly and lean against it.
Lore flutters toward a bookcase on the right of the lounge area, beside the small kitchenette. I notice a few personal possessions—purses, notebooks, ties, shoes—scattered about the place on various chairs or coffee tables. Normally, this would be the perfect time to search for items of blackmail, or just objects for me to curse, but that’s for another day.
I watch Lore flutter around the bookshelf for a few minutes until she sets her sights on one book in particular and goes to grab the top of it with her claws. With a swift beat of her wings, she pulls back, and the book starts to fall.
My heart stops and I leap forward to catch it, but it stops, teetering precariousl
y at the edge of the shelf. “Oh, thank the gods,” I whisper.
But a soft creak erupts from the bookcase, and it swings open, forcing me to jump back. Lore lets out an amused laugh at my wide eyes.
“A secret bookcase door? This is so cool!” I whisper and follow after Lore through the open archway and down a set of metal stairs. A single lantern at the top lights the first few steps, but after that, it is pure darkness.
We continue down the steps, the sound of my feet clacking against the metal filling my ears. The further down we spiral, the darker it gets until I can’t see anything in front of me.
The darkness swims around me, and it laughs, mocking me, taunting me the further down I go until my legs tremble with fear. Every dark thought I’ve ever had doesn’t seem to compare to the chills crawling down my spine. The evil within it creeps into my thoughts, enticing my fear out of me like a long-lost lover.
“This is just a test, Serena, push through it,” Lore whispers, and I try to focus on her words, but the darkness just laughs and pushes her away.
I know it’s a ward placed over the area to discourage us from reaching the relics, but the darkness seems to whisper as it flows around me.
“You are worthless.”
“You don’t belong.”
“You’re weak… pathetic.”
The taunting grows, attacking all of my insecurities and flaws as if it can see into my very soul. I swallow around the tightness in my throat, and the shivers wracking my body intensify. Every word is like a knife, digging in deep, and with every laugh, the knife twists.
“I can’t… I can’t do this.”
I suck in a sharp breath and stumble back up the stairs, away from the darkness. The further I stumble, the easier it is to think... to breathe. As the lantern comes into sight, I let out a choked sigh and fall to the ground.
My hands clutch the metal railings for dear life. A fluttering sound fills the dead silent air before Lore lands on my shoulder, nuzzling her feathery face into my neck.
“It’s okay Mistress. You’re okay,” she whispers.
“We have to try again, Lore. Master Rostova…” I trail off, my body shuddering. “We can’t fail him.”
She pulls away from me and lets out a low hoot. “It’ll be okay, Serena. We’ll think of something else. We can try again another day, but for now, I think it is best we leave before the next patrol comes through.”
A shudder works its way through me, and I almost cry at the prospect of having to go back down the stairs. “Lore, what if I can’t do it again? Master Rostova… I have to call him this evening. He’ll be expecting results!”
She remains silent before replying. “We will think of something.”
We sit in quiet contemplation for who knows how long until I can breathe without the soul-crushing weight on my chest. But the sound of feet on the staircase far below us reaches upwards, causing me to jolt upright. I pull myself to my feet and rush up the final few steps as quietly as possible, then back into the staff lounge where the first rays of dawn as turning the sky pink beyond the large windows.
“What do we do with the door?”
“I’ve got it,” Lore says as she swoops over to slot the book back into place. The bookcase closes with a thankfully hasty swish and clunk.
I sigh and open the door back into the main thoroughfare, and we speed along the corridor until we reach the entrance.
Just as I’m about to leave, I spot a notice-board hanging on the wall beside the door. It contains the usual stuff—advertisements for extracurricular clubs, recruitment for sports teams, extra tutoring hours—but what catches my eye is the one, larger poster in the middle of it all.
“Lore…” I say. “I’ve got it.”
She circles back from heading out the door and comes to land on my shoulder. “What is it?”
I read the poster: “The Mid-Semester Trials. Do you have what it takes? See Professor Worgren to apply.” I turn to look at Lore. “Remember what Declan said during our first Advanced Combat class? He said the prize is usually one of the godly relics. If I can win…”
“It says here it’s a team trial,” Lore says, examining the small print. “Teams of five only. No more, no less.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “I guess I’ll need to be careful about bringing this one up…”
Lore hoots her agreement, and her beak rubs against my cheek so tenderly, that my eyes burn with unshed tears. “Let’s just focus on getting through this morning and then we can figure out all of the details.”
I nod because that’s all I can do.
We finally leave the building and start down the steps that leads to the courtyard. A few figures dot the footpaths, out for an early morning run like I’m technically supposed to be doing.
With that I mind, I hop into a jog, sending Lore back into the air. Burned orange and bright red fill the horizon, and my chest tightens as I focus on the new light overcoming the deep blue of the night’s sky. My feet pause and Lore turns to me, hovering in the air, her head tilted as much as an owl’s can.
“We have to head back to the house, Serena,” she whispers, but I shake my head.
I watch the rising sun on the horizon, the way it chases away the darkness of the night. I sit on the cold, dewy ground, imagining that it’s chasing away the darkness inside me and look up to Lore who is flying circles over my head.
“Can we stay out here? Just for a little while?”
Lore says nothing but flutters down to land on my leg.
We watch the sunrise together.
If only my darkness could be washed away so easily.
Chapter 9
Low muffled whispers ring through the door before a thump, and everything goes quiet. My lips pull into a smile, and I finish getting ready. I’d meant to come home before all of the guys were awake, but watching the sunrise had been very… therapeutic.
I open my bedroom door, and I snort as the four of them scramble away, trying to pretend they weren’t waiting for me. I guess I worried them all with how quiet I was coming through the front door during breakfast.
“I’m okay, guys. Really,” I say, rolling my eyes.
They all look to Dane whose aura had brushed against mine for a second before drawing back. He tilts his head and nods. “She’s telling the truth.”
The guys go back to their usual joking as we head down the stairs and to the front door. Dane’s aura mingles with Paxton’s, and a pinch forms between his eyebrows. “Why does Paxton keep picturing Poseidon waving his trident around?” he asks, and I bark out a laugh before slapping my hand to my mouth.
Declan watches me with one eyebrow raised. “Do we even want to know?”
Paxton and I share a glance before shaking our heads. What happens in fright club, stays in fright club—or at least that’s what I’m calling our little, two-man, can’t-sleep group.
Rory scowls. “You can’t just grin and not tell us anything. How is that fair?” He opens the door, waiting for all of us to pile outside before shutting it behind us.
“Life’s not fair, Rory. If you want to know, you’ll have to ask Pax.”
“You both suck,” Rory mutters.
Paxton and I chuckle, but mine is dry. The racing in my chest increases the more I think about my call with Master Rostova this evening. What I would give to not have to speak or see or even think of that man. It’s too late now, I guess. There’s no turning back. Not for me, anyway.
“Serena? Are you coming?” Dane calls out, and I realize I’ve been staring into the distance, my feet rooted to the ground.
I force my lips into a small smile as I nod. I hate this.
“Is everything okay, Serena?” he asks when I catch up. The concern lining his face lashes out at the guilt taking root in my bones. I look away.
“Everything is fine.”
I shut my bedroom door firmly behind me, muffling the sound of the guys watching TV downstairs. My eyes flick to the clock on my bedside table and stones dr
op in my stomach with each second that ticks by.
“I guess I can’t put it off forever…” I rake my hand through my hair and undo my braid, letting the brown strands flow freely over my shoulders as I sit on my bed with my back against the headboard. I glance at Keaira and say, “Keep an ear on the hall, would you?” She nods, standing sentry at my door.
I stare at the phone in my hand and draw in a deep breath as I tap through to my contacts and select the only one there. It rings five times before a click and eerie silence.
“Master Rostova. It’s Serena,” I say.
“Serena. I thought you weren’t going to call,” he chides, a warning hidden in his tone.
My eyelids flicker, threatening to descend to the Forest. I fist the soft fabric of my throw as I say, “Sorry, Master. Classes only just finished.”
He chuckles in my ear. “And I suppose you’ve learned a few things, have you?”
Rory’s smiling face, Dane’s comforting presence, Paxton’s understanding, Declan’s no-nonsense sensibility. I return the laugh dryly. “No. What they teach is nothing of use to me.” But in truth, I’ve experienced more kindness from them in the past couple of days than I have in years at the Academy of the Dark.
“I should expect not. So, what news do you have for me—or have you been neglecting your duties?”
I exhale slowly; down to business. “Lore was able to find the plans for the Academy and the surrounding areas in the library. But they’re dated ten years ago—”
“And what of the items?” The glee in his voice gives me pause and pain scratches at the back of my throat.
“We made an attempt to retrieve them from the vaults early this morning, but the security, reinforcements, and other layers of protection were too vast to get through,” I whisper, and he swears; the sound of glass breaking rings through the line.
“You need to get them, Serena. You know what happens to those who disappoint me.”
A lump forms in my throat. “I know,” I whisper. The scars on my back ache with phantom pain as if they are remembering as well. “But there is another way. From what I’ve heard, the only time they are ever taken out is during some kind of termly trial, but only one is taken out at a time, and it is only given to the winner.”
Cursed Magic: A Paranormal Academy Romance (Daughter of Nyx Series Book 1) Page 9
