Moonstone Academy: Year One: A Mayhem of Magic World Story

by Nicole Zoltack

  “Do you want me to see if I can learn about a couple like that?” Julian asks, reaching for his phone.

  "We have a class to get to."

  “I know, but…”

  As Julian starts to search on his phone, he's heading right for me. I try to move out of the way, but we bump into each other.

  “I’m sorry,” Julian says.

  I look up at him and brush back my black hair. A few strands here and there are white.

  “It’s all right, Julian. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Not exactly the truth, but even if I have been listening to them, I’m preoccupied, concerning with that feeling of impending doom as well as that unnerving talk earlier with Nia. I tilt my head to the side. “Are you all right?”

  “Are you…” He shakes his head.

  I lift my eyebrows. Is he wondering about my blood? About what I am? Not everyone on campus knows who my dad is, what he is. “Am I what?”

  “Related to…” He waves the hand holding his phone and almost throws it at me. It’s almost funny, but clearly, something’s going on with him. He’s worried, anxious, and I wonder if it has anything to do with him and an angel or a demon or…

  A vampire.

  Hmm.

  “Never mind,” he mumbles.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? If you have a question for me, you can ask.” And I’ll tell him the truth. There’s no point in hiding who I am.

  But Julian just shakes his head, ducking around me and mumbling another apology.

  That was interesting. Very interesting. But I’m not going to pry. His business is his business.

  As for Nia’s, though, I have a feeling she’s up to something, and I wouldn’t doubt it at all if she’s the cause of my feeling so on edge.

  Chapter 21

  Robb

  “Have you had any Mystic Twilight recently?” a werewolf asks as she walks by. I’m not sure who she or who the werewolf she’s talking to is, but something makes me keep an eye on them as they walk past me toward a bench for lunch.

  “No. You know my birthday isn’t for a few more months,” the second werewolf says. “Why?”

  “Oh, it’s just because I saw Nia with some.”

  “You did? When? Isn’t her birthday after mine?”

  “Yep. Pretty sure.”

  Curious, I take a few long strides to be near them and clear my throat. “Did you say Nia? Nia Forge?”

  “Yes.” The first werewolf eyes me. She crosses her arms. “Who are you?”

  “Robb. You?”

  “Anna Snowblood.”

  “Elliot,” I mumble.

  “Yeah, he’s in my pack. What about him?”

  I shake my head. “You saw Nia with some Mystic Twilight?” I ask.

  “Yeah.”

  “When?”

  “Last night.”

  I purse my lips. “It was dark last night.”

  “So? Just because it’s a black drink doesn’t mean you can’t recognize it. One, the smell, and two, the silver ice cubes. Dead giveaway. What do you care?”

  The other werewolf just stares at me, at my scar. I turn and glower at her, and she emits an “Eep!” and retreats a step.

  Anna glares at me. “Don’t act all animalistic and savage toward us.”

  “Don’t be near Nia. She’s…”

  “She’s what?” Nia asks behind me.

  I grit my teeth and turn around. I can hear the other two scamper off, which is probably for the best.

  There’s a gleam in her eyes, but I don’t think it’s from Mystic Twilight. It's a potent drink that werewolves use. It gives us increased power and strength, both ourselves and our wolves. Some abuse the drink, and it can cause a host of various health ailments and conditions, and serious abuse can result in death.

  Legally, werewolves are allowed to drink Mystic Twilight once a year on our birthdays. That’s it. I don’t even bother then, but actually, now that I think about it, maybe the drink could help to give me time.

  Time to what? Break the curse? Even at full strength and vigor, I couldn’t succeed.

  I’m as good as dead. Walking dead. I’m hardly alive.

  Yet, I’m not ready to stop fighting Nia.

  “You’ve been drinking Mystic Twilight, huh?” I ask her.

  “You don’t need to worry about me.”

  “No?”

  “No. I wasn’t the one who did it.”

  “Did what?” I ask suspiciously.

  “So you don’t know everything that happens. Good. I can be the one to tell you.”

  “Tell me what?” I ask, curling my upper lip.

  “There was an attack at Blood Haven earlier today.”

  “An attack? Was someone—”

  “Hurt? Killed? Who cares if one of those bloodsuckers are dead? Vampires are monsters. They dare to think we are because we have a wolf inside of us, but we evolved. We used to eat flesh and drink blood, but we don’t anymore.”

  She pauses and licks her lips, and it’s just enough to make me wonder if she actually does drink blood. But where would she get it? No, she’s just trying to make me think that. With Nia, you can’t take things at face value. She’s toying with me, messing with me, trying to get me to run around in circles, chasing my own tail.

  I say nothing, and Nia doesn’t take long to break the silence.

  “Fine. I’ll tell you. From what I hear, someone went to Blood Haven and attacked a statue. A solid steel statute.”

  “A statue?” I repeat, my heart sinking.

  A warning.

  A promise of violence.

  Nearly a declaration of war.

  “Yes. From what I hear, there’s a statue there, might even be in the center of their campus. It’s a vampire with its head back, so its stupid fangs are visible. There’s a moon above the head like some kind of dark, twisted halo, and there’s a victim dead at its feet. So morbid, right?”

  I say nothing.

  Nia doesn’t seem to care that I’m unresponsive. “Yes, so morbid. Anyhow, the head was cut off, the vampire beheaded, and the fangs were cut off, and there are now claw marks on the chest and neck. A huge improvement, I’m sure.”

  “But you didn’t do this.”

  “You think I did?” she asks innocently, a hand to her chest. “Why, Robb, who do you take me for?”

  “If not you, then who? And what’s all this about the Mystic Twilight?”

  “Robb, the statue was solid steel. Even werewolves can’t easily claw through that. Not without a little… kick.”

  My mind races. There have to be other werewolves who hate vampires. Most likely, the vast majority feel the same way Nia does. Nia, Roald, and all of them. It sickens me that they would tar all of the vampires with the same feather.

  Defang them all with the same pliers more like.

  “You supplied someone with the Mystic Twilight, didn’t you?” I accuse.

  “Robb, what does it matter? It’s over and done with.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Is it?”

  “I swear to the moon, you act as if you care more about the bloodsuckers than you do werewolves. Are you one of us or one of them? They won’t hesitate to kill you, to drink your blood—”

  “Do they drink werewolf blood?”

  “Maybe for you, they’ll make an exception.”

  She’s cold, ice cold. It makes me wonder just how much she can feel. There’s something utterly chilling about her. The disregard for life that she has, the ability to use others for her gain…

  Nia can never be made alpha. Her followers would do everything she asked without question, and they would not just kill for her. They would murder for her.

  I swallow hard. Maybe my last days should be spent taking her down instead of long hours with Bellanore.

  One grants me a semblance of happiness.

  The other grants me a chance to actually make a difference in the world.

  Don’t I owe that to the Alines? The ones who had been murdered? The ones wit
hout a chance to live, to love, to take a breath?

  Nia’s not a loose cannon. She’s too cool to be so hotheaded, but that doesn’t mean that whoever she got to do this for her isn’t.

  I squint at her. “Are you trying to make me be afraid?”

  She lifts her nose into the air. “Do vampires hunt your nightmares? Or do I? Because you know I can ruin you.”

  I shrug. “I don’t care what you say.”

  “Is that so?” She pats a finger against her cheek. “Maybe I’ll go and have a chat with that werewolf you’ve been hanging around. Bellanore Shade, right? What do you see in her anyway? She’s a demonic werewolf. There aren’t many of them—”

  “There’s, what, three of them that attend here?”

  Her eyebrows lift, and she appraises me critically. “Why do you care how many are here?” she scoffs.

  I swallow hard.

  She gives me a chilling smile that doesn’t reach her blue eyes. “I won’t talk to Bellanore so long as you stay out of my way.”

  “And just what do you think you’ll tell Bellanore?” I demand.

  “Oh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that…”

  “She’ll know if you’re lying.”

  “Ah, but maybe I have a few friends who are fairies who have taught me a thing or two about spinning the truth.” Nia’s grin grows, and she waves her fingers at me as she walks away.

  I scowl at her retreating backside. Eventually, I glance around to see who is nearby. I didn’t think anyone could’ve overheard us, but I’m all out of sorts. I’m not sure what to do, but I do think I want to stop her.

  Even if that means I won’t be able to spend time with Bellanore?

  Why? Why should Bellanore matter that much to me? She shouldn’t. My entire pack was killed. I should be doing everything I can to fight for their sake, and the only way to do that is to ensure that our pack survives.

  Which means I do need to find love.

  But I also need to survive long enough to produce an heir.

  Honestly, none of this should be a concern of a sixteen-year-old, but I'm not just any sixteen-year-old. Not only am I the last surviving member of my werewolf pack, but I'm also cursed.

  Cursed beyond just that of being a lone wolf.

  I grit my teeth and stalk back toward the castle where I have a room that I mostly ignore. Along the way, I spy Decker Winds. The brown-haired werewolf’s alone, so I cross over to him.

  Decker eyes me and gives a half-smile. “How are you, Robb?”

  The two of us haven't had much time to talk alone. Most of the time, the rough crowd is always together. Just a few minutes ago, I talked to Nia alone, and now Decker? It almost makes me wonder if we're all breaking apart, fracturing, going our own separate ways.

  Nia’s going straight down to Hell.

  I grimace. “I’m worried about Nia,” I blurt out.

  Decker’s dark eyes widen. “Why? She’s tough. She can handle just about anything.”

  “I’m sure she can, but—”

  “You don’t need to worry about her.”

  “But she’s—”

  “She’s smart too.”

  I narrow my eyes, appraising him. His defense of her… Is it because they’re friends, or does he have stronger feelings for her?

  “She gave another werewolf Mystic Twilight,” I say.

  “Her mom makes a lot of the batches for birthdays,” Decker says with a shrug. “Not just for the Forge pack either. For a lot of them. So Nia got her hands on some. What’s that matter?”

  I swallow hard. “Because that werewolf went to Blood Haven and—”

  “Killed some vampires?” Decker tilts his head to the side. “I could’ve sworn we talked about going there…” he mumbles.

  I wince. The last thing I want to do is learn if suppressed memories from haze avitores can be rekindled. “I just think that Nia needs to be watched.”

  "I think you need to stop worrying about Nia and stop talking about her, too," Decker says hotly.

  He storms off, and the heat of his fire contrasts so much with her bitter iciness.

  I huff a sigh and turn around to see a blonde werewolf with narrowed blue eyes. Has she been eavesdropping?

  I approach her. The werewolf crosses her arms.

  “Who are you?” I ask.

  “Mercy Lance,” she says. “And you?”

  “I’m—”

  “A nosy werewolf. What’s it matter to you what happened to a vampire statue?”

  I lift my eyebrows. “Did she give it to you?”

  Mercy purses her lips. “Maybe she did. Maybe she didn’t.”

  “That doesn’t exactly make me think that you didn’t.”

  She shrugs. “I don’t care what you think.”

  “I’m sure you don’t care, but I… Can you tell me what you know about Nia?”

  “Why? Because you want to drag her down? Get her kicked out of Moonstone Academy?”

  “If she’s committing crimes, she should be sent to Magical Prison.”

  “She’s just a teenager. They won’t send her there.”

  “They will if the crime is severe enough.”

  “Oh, I doubt that.”

  “But—”

  "There have been other fights between the two academies before. There have even been deaths. No one has ever been sent there as a result, only expelled."

  I blow out a breath. “That’s wrong,” I mumble.

  “Right or wrong, that’s not your choice. That’s up to the big-wigs at HEX Unite.”

  HEX Unite—Paranormal Hunters, Slayers, and Executioners Unite, an organization that has hunters, slayers, and executioners who go out and either sentence people to Magical Prison or else kills them on the spot. The students from Magical Hunters Academy almost all work at that place after graduating.

  “But what about Nia herself?” I press. “Do you know her well?”

  Mercy hesitates and then shakes her head. “Not very well, no,” she admits. “You’re worried she’s going to do what exactly?”

  "I think she might want a war between vampires and werewolves."

  “She wouldn’t be the only one.”

  I eye her. “Do you?”

  She pauses, bares her fangs, and then shakes her head. “I guess I can’t considering…” She huffs and rolls her eyes.

  “Considering what exactly?”

  “Why do you care so much? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for a vampire too,” she grumbles.

  “You’re talking about Julian, aren’t you?”

  Mercy blinks a few times and then stalks toward me. “What do you know about that?” she hisses.

  “Just what I saw.”

  “You saw nothing,” she hisses.

  I hold up my hands. “I saw nothing,” I repeat. “And Nia?”

  Mercy shakes her head. “I’ve known Nia for a long time. What she wants, she gets, and if she wants war… She’ll try to find allies who will suit her to that end.”

  “And those who oppose her?”

  “Let’s just say that Nia’s made people disappear before.”

  My skin crawls, and I swallow hard. “Those who oppose her.”

  Mercy shakes her head again. “No,” she murmurs. “She makes the loved ones of those who oppose her disappear.”

  Chapter 22

  Robb

  I gape at Mercy. She has to be joking, but no. The werewolf is deadly serious.

  My skin crawls, and I inhale sharply. "You better stay away from her then, or else your boyfriend will become a target if you don't do everything she says."

  “I don’t have a boyfriend, and you don’t have to worry. Nia and I don’t see-to-eye. I… I have my… misgivings about the werewolves, but I’m not sure I actually want war. If a vampire crosses my path, I’ll ignore him or her, but if one threatens me, you better believe that I will fight back with everything I have.”

  “Of course, but if you already got Mystic Twilight from her…”

&nb
sp; “You don’t know who attacked the statue, and you don’t need to know. I will say this, though. I won’t be making it a point to seek her out.”

  "Any more?" I can't help asking.

  “You’re so bloody nosy,” she mumbles. “Keep your wet nose out of this.”

  “I’m trying to tell you to do the same,” I say dryly.

  Mercy nods. “Stay safe, Robb.”

  I blink a few times, mildly shocked. “You know my name? Then why did you ask for it?”

  “Maybe because you had to ask for mine. You might want to widen your pool of acquaintances if you want to get away from Nia. The last thing you want is a target on your back.”

  I open my mouth, but she’s not done yet.

  "Remember. She won't go after you. She'll go after your family, your friends, a girlfriend…"

  My jaw clenches.

  Mercy nods. “Yeah, we all have someone we can’t afford to lose, and you’ve been pegged already as one of hers just by those you associate with. You’re the one who needs to listen to your own advice.”

  “I will, but, Mercy, stay away. This might get messy, and I don’t want you involved in this.”

  “What a strong knight you are,” she teases. “Or are you the gallant steed instead of the knight?”

  “Whatever I am, I don’t want to have to watch your back as well as my own.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll stay away.” She hesitates. “I’ll keep my friends away too if I can, but if you need help…”

  “I won’t call,” I say firmly.

  “I’ll give you my number so you can.”

  “Don’t want it.”

  “You’re getting it anyhow.”

  “I won’t call,” I repeat.

  “You’re not a wolf. You’re a bull. Bullheaded.”

  “I guess that’s better than pigheaded, isn’t it?” I quip.

  Mercy gives me a wide grin. “I like you. Don’t let Nia get to you, okay? I don’t want it to come to that.”

  “Me neither.”

  Mercy takes a step away from me, walking backward. I think she has something more to say, but then she shakes her head, nods, turns around, and leaves.

  I turn around and almost plow right into Roald.

  His black hair is tousled, as if he’s been yanking on the ends, and his gray eyes narrow, glittering like hard stones.