London Academy 1

by Klarissa King

  A growl came from her stomach. Piper’s cheeks burned with crimson as she clutched her tummy. She cleared her throat to mask the sound, but they’d all heard it—the van had been blanketed in silence.

  Ash snickered and tucked his gun away. “We’ll get takeaway after this,” he said. “You don’t want to eat in the mess hall tonight. Chef Killian is cooking. He makes this Deadly Nightshade soup…” Ash grimaced and shook his head. “It’ll have you on the toilet for days.”

  “My mother owns a cottage in the Scottish Highlands,” said Piper. “Deadly Nightshade grows there. It’s poisonous—it can kill you.”

  “It can kill dullborns,” said Desmond. Piper leaned forward and looked at him. The side of his pale face appeared peaceful, and if he hadn’t spoken, she would’ve thought he was still asleep. “Not those with daywalker blood in them.” He stretched out and stared at the back of the driver’s seat where Athena drove the van.

  Piper remembered Ash telling her that Athena was the Head of the enforcers at the Academy. Beside her, in the passenger seat, was a man Ash had called Ares.

  “Either way,” said Desmond through a yawn, “Deadly Nightshade tastes like rotten figs. I’d rather eat banyon.”

  “Don’t sulk, Desmond,” said Ash. “We’ll get you some tacos.” Ash tilted toward Piper and said, in a lowered voice, “He’s obsessed with those things.”

  A laugh caught in her throat as she recalled seeing them for the first time. Desmond had been devouring a taco in the shop, and spilling the salsa down the front of his sweater. He had still been so uninviting and cold, but Piper had learned his weakness. He wasn’t so scary anymore.

  Desmond grumbled, “I need to get something good out of this pointless trip.”

  “A trace of aswang in the same street of one of Colt’s halfbreeds.” It was Athena, her voice as fierce as a whip. “Not what I would consider pointless, Desmond.”

  “An hour away,” he said. “By the time we get there, it’ll be gone.”

  “If that is the case,” she said, “then we will hunt it.” Athena craned her neck and stared at Desmond. “Unless you would rather be off the case.”

  Desmond stiffened. “No, ma’am.”

  “Good,” she said, and turned to face the road. “I’ll take that as your offer to hunt the aswang for however long it takes.”

  Ash clasped his hands behind his head and shot a smarmy glance at Desmond.

  Piper leaned closer to Ash, the scent of caramel and coffee beans wafting up her nose. “Do I need one?” Ash followed her gaze to his thigh strap, which held petite throwing daggers. “If these aswang things are that dangerous,” she said, “shouldn’t I be armed?”

  “Do you know how to use it?” Piper shook her head. Ash asked, “What about guns?” Again, she shook her head. Ash hummed before he said, “What can you do?”

  There was no malice to the question, no judgement. Piper thought for a moment before she decided, “I’m the captain of the dodgeball team at my school. And I play soccer. I used to be on the rowing team, but I resigned last term. The Thames water is too dirty for my taste.”

  “Dodgeball,” he repeated, rolling the word over his tongue. “That’s the game where you aim soft balls at other people, yes?”

  Piper raised her brows. “You know it?”

  “I caught the film,” he said. At her baffled expression, he added, “I enjoy dullborn entertainment from time to time. Keeps me cultured.”

  A buzz vibrated against her bum cheek. Piper hmphed and pulled out her phone from her back pocket. It was a text from April.

  ‘What do you want for lunch? My hangover craves pizza, but my brain screams for a kale salad.’ Piper checked the time at the top of the screen. She wouldn’t make it home in time.

  “Here.” It was Ash. He held out a black ball of compacted dust. It reminded Piper of a bath bomb. “Use this only if you have to,” he said. “Aim for the head.”

  Piper took the ball and tucked her phone back into her pocket. “What does it do?”

  “Blinds your enemy.”

  The van skidded to a halt. Athena wrangled the gear stick and parked at the curb. The doors clicked open and they all got out. Piper looked up and down the street. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

  Plain brown flats lined the street on both sides, and loomed up into the murky sky. A bus ejected a dozen people at a bus stop a few metres down the road before it sped off and veered onto another street. Piper didn’t see any monsters running around, wreaking havoc. It all was perfectly … normal.

  A loud bang came from behind her.

  Her muscles lunged and she whirled around to face the source. Desmond had knocked down a door to the mouldy brown building ahead. Ash walked up the path and shouted back at her, “Come on, halfbreed.”

  The others had already gone through the broken doorway, and Piper jogged to keep up. The coarse dust bomb scratched against her palm as she ran up the stairs and scrambled to a stop behind Ash.

  The five of them climbed the stairs, Athena heading the charge. They had rules, observed Piper, and exact formations from high rank to lower lank. Is that why she was at the very end of the line?

  Piper whisked her gaze around. The paint on the walls was cracked and peeling in crisp slices, and the stairwell reeked of stale urine. Each timber door they passed had faded to a beige and wore a label with what Piper presumed to be the surnames of the residents.

  They reached the seventh floor and Athena halted, motioning to her right. Desmond and Ares crept over the landing and stopped at a closed door with ‘WILSON’ stuck onto it with scotch tape.

  Desmond and Ares flanked the door as Ash slinked in front of Piper, a black gun with golden wisps raised. Athena moved—with such grace that Piper would’ve believed her to be a dancer—in front of the door.

  She jerked back and kicked out her leg with trained precision. The door burst open and rattled against its hinges. Piper, in awe, watched as Athena charged into the flat, a rifle in her hands, the hilt digging into her shoulder. Tranquiliser darts were loaded in the rifle, but the pistols and revolvers in her holsters were laden with real bullets.

  Piper darted inside after Ash and the others, clutching the black ball in her hand.

  The flat was small and dusty.

  A sliver of sunlight wisped in through the heavy curtains. The kitchen and living area were divided by a retro bench with bar stools tucked underneath it, and stacks of dishes protruded from the metal sink, slanted like the Tower of Pisa.

  Over Ash’s shoulder Piper could see Ares take a door ahead, Athena vanish down a dark corridor, and Desmond approach the bloodied door to the left. Ash shadowed Desmond, and blocked Piper’s direct line of sight. She wondered if it was intention to guard her from whatever they might find on the other side of the door.

  Desmond reached for the handle that was slicked in blood. His leather gloved-fingers wrapped around the knob and turned.

  Piper peered around Ash’s arm just as the door creaked. It was a bathroom. The dangling lightbulb shone down on the pools of blood on the tiles. The basin had cracked and the bathtub was draped in a fallen shower curtain.

  Kieran’s head rested against the side of the bathtub, sticking out of the clear shower curtain. Through the material, Piper could see streaks of red. He was injured.

  Piper ran past Ash and barged into the bathroom. Desmond tried to snatch her back, but she dropped to her knees beside the bathtub and gripped onto the edge. Kieran’s chest rose and fell in slow, heavy movements. A hoarse wheezing sound whispered from him, one that reminded Piper of those anti-smoking ads from the tele.

  Desmond sighed and yanked the shower curtain from his body. It crumpled to the tiles. Ash stepped on it and looked down his nose at Kieran’s body.

  “Kieran,” whispered Piper. “Kieran, it’s me. It’s Piper Reed—we’ve met. Can you hear me?”

  His eyelids fluttered. It wasn’t her name that woke him, she suspected, but the sound of her voice. Any voice w
ould’ve pulled him from his slumber.

  “Aswang bites,” said Desmond. His hand reached out to lift the hem of Kieran’s drenched t-shirt. Chunks of his flesh had been torn from his skin. A single gaping hole showed the gooey white of a rib, below his left pec. “I’m seeing five of them on the chest and torso all up. Scratches to the pelvic area, and down his side. Paralysis from the bites has set in.”

  Footsteps approached, and Piper looked over her shoulder. The room blurred for a second, but then she blinked and it cleared. Ares stood in the doorway and took swabs of the blood from the wall.

  Ash crouched down beside Piper and scanned his gaze over her face. “You don’t look too good there, halfbreed.”

  “I’m all right,” she whispered, and wiped her clammy forehead. “Just a bit hot is all.”

  “You’re being modest,” he said with a smirk. “I’d estimate your hotness to be around the temperature of the earth’s core, but that’s just my opinion.”

  Piper scowled at him with a mixture of disgust and incredulity. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

  Her voice came out sharper than she’d meant it to, but she didn’t consider his comment to be appropriate given that there was a dying person in the bathtub beside them.

  Ash only snickered, a sound so soft that she even doubted she’d even heard it at all.

  A groan came from the bathtub. Piper twisted around to see that Kieran had opened his eyes and gazed up at Desmond. Each of his breaths seemed to grate over sandpaper and echo from an oxygen mask. Piper bowed closer to him and he dragged his hooded gaze to her.

  “Mu-m,” he choked out. His hand lifted, as if trying to reach the air above him, before it dropped back down at his side. “Sis…bit mu-m.”

  “Let’s go,” said Ash, standing up. Desmond rose, just as fast, and Piper looked up at them both.

  “Go?” she hissed. “He’s dying. We can’t leave him he—”

  “Calm down,” snapped Desmond. “We know what we’re doing.”

  “He’ll be treated at the Academy,” said Ash. “But we have to find that aswang before it gets too far.”

  Piper sighed and stood up, lingering her saddened eyes over Kieran.

  “I think you misunderstood,” said Ash. “By we, I mean Desmond and I.” He jerked his head at his stony-faced comrade. “You should stay here. Look after Kieran or something until we get back.”

  Ares squeezed into the tight space and tucked blood samples into his pocket. “I’ll stay,” he said, pulling out a phial. “I have to administer the salves anyway.”

  Ash and Desmond left without another word.

  Piper darted after them.

  Ash glanced over his shoulder at her, but he merely sighed. They followed a trail of blood droplets that carried up to the top floor. The beads of blood stopped at the landing, in front of the left door.

  The door to the quiet dark flat was open. On the landing was a netted shopping bag—apples and tins had rolled out of it—and a set of keys.

  Ash pressed his back against the wall and peeked around the side. He lifted the tranquiliser rifle, pressed the handle against his shoulder, and slinked inside; Desmond at his heels.

  Piper waited a few seconds before she dipped inside too, but stumbled to a stop once she rested her bulged eyes on the floor.

  She staggered into the wall, her hands slapping against her parted lips, and stifled a cry. The bath bomb dropped the floor and rolled.

  An old man lay face down on the stained carpet.

  A chipped cane had rolled just out of reach of his splayed fingers, and a young girl straddled his back.

  The girl—who Piper presumed to be Kieran’s little sister—snapped her teeth into the old man’s back and tore off his flesh in a frantic, swift motion.

  Piper didn’t know what she heard first. The sound of skin tearing; the hungry growls of the cannibalistic girl; the blast of Desmond’s gun as he shot the girl; or the retch that had ripped through her own throat as vomit spilled from her lips onto her palm.

  Piper slumped against the wall, tears gathering in her eyes, as she heaved and vomited again—once for each gunshot. Desmond had shot the old man too.

  CHAPTER 15

  April balanced two sweaty pizza boxes in one hand and shut the door with the other.

  No wonder people were breaking into Piper’s house, she mused. There were no security details to guard the building. Not even a number panel at the main entrance to dial in a code for access.

  As she scaled the marble staircase, she dipped her hand into her cleavage and removed her phone. A bit of boob sweat marked the screen. She wiped it on her top.

  “Call Nigel,” she said to the phone. A ding was her response before the phone lit up with his name and rang. When she reached the second floor—where Piper’s apartment was—the call went to voicemail.

  “Why is it,” she said, “that each time I ring you, Nigel, I get your voicemail? One might think you reject my calls.” She flipped her loose hair over her bare shoulder and sniffed. “Anyway, I just got to Pipes’s place. If you haven’t already, can you pick me up a triple shot vanilla mocha latte? Venti, of course. My hangover is unbearable, but not as unbearable as what I’ll do to you if you don’t bring me that latte.”

  April hit the red button and ended the call.

  Clasping her fingers around the phone, she made a fist and rapped her knuckles on the door. She waited, huffing to herself, and shifted her weight between feet. After a few seconds, she knocked again, harder.

  April puckered her lips and called Piper. She didn’t answer. April then tried Nigel’s number. It went to voicemail, and she complained into the microphone, “If you’re with Pipes and not on your way to her place right now, I’m kicking you off the debate team. I’m waiting in the lobby, by myself I might add, and I’m beginning to stink of vegan pizza. This is not a good look for me, Nigel. Hurry up.”

  She took a seat on the staircase.

  Ten minutes passed until she lost her patience. Leaving the pizza boxes on the step, she got up and stomped downstairs. As her black canvas shoes hit the marble of the second landing, she stopped, her hand hovering above the bannister.

  A thud had echoed down the stairwell.

  April tilted her head back and looked up at the ceiling. There were two apartments were up there, and one of them was Piper’s.

  April spun around and marched back up the stairs. The door was still shut and the pizza boxes wafted wisps of steam into the landing.

  April reached out for the door handle and turned it. Her sculpted brow quirked as the door clicked open.

  “So much for security,” she mumbled, pushing the door open.

  April stepped inside and looked around the foyer.

  No one was there, and she ducked into the living room to see that it was empty. She wandered back to the doorway and noticed a black box on the buffet table.

  The lid lay on the floor, and the paper tissue had been parted to reveal a glowing gemstone. The cardboard tag attached to it had the name ‘Rosemary Reed’ written on it in a delicate cursive font.

  April recognised the stone to be an emerald. It was a strange gift, she decided. Diamonds were always better. And, on occasion, pearls were good too.

  April’s slender fingers reached out to touch the emerald…

  CHAPTER16

  Ash placed his hand on her back and rubbed in circles.

  “Aswang.” Piper looked up at him from beneath her wet lashes. He added, in a gentle voice, “The girl was cursed. Possessed by one of them.”

  Athena appeared in the doorway and assessed the scene. “Nice work,” she said. Desmond inclined his head, holding his rifle against his chest. “The boy passed out,” she added. “We got some information out of him before he fell unconscious. He said he arrived home around thirty minutes ago. He found his mum dead in the kitchen. His sister was feeding on her and turned on him. He fought her off, and locked himself in the bathroom.” She lifted a black box, filled with ti
ssue paper, and a bright green jewel placed inside. “This was on the kitchen counter.”

  Piper watched box fly past her.

  Desmond caught it with one hand and inspected the stone. He lifted the box up and sniffed it. “Sulphur,” he said. “It’s the cursed gem.”

  Ash’s hand stilled on Piper’s back. He wanted to go to Desmond’s side and see the stone, she could tell. But he stayed with her and said, “The mother must’ve touched it first. It killed her, then the girl touched the corpse.”

  “Probably trying to save her mother’s life,” agreed Desmond. “Or hold her.”

  Desmond handed the box to Ash. He stepped forward and took it, bringing it closer to Piper for her to view. She didn’t spare it a single glance. Her eyes wouldn’t—couldn’t—tear away from the dead bodies on the floor.

  Ash dipped his gloved hand into the box and nudged the stone. “The girl would’ve turned within minutes of infection.”

  Desmond tugged the rifle strap over his shoulder and let it hang there. “I think we can guess why his family was targeted.”

  “Retaliation from Colt,” said Ash.

  Piper cleared her throat and wiped the bile from her chin. “Kieran was one of the few who didn’t eat the banyon,” she said. Her whispered voice was hoarse, the kind that one spoke in after a sobbing fit.

  “Colt is sending curses to kill off the others,” said Athena. “Their mothers die after touching the gems, and the halfbreeds or their siblings would become infected once they touched the bodies.”

  “Could be,” said Piper. “But I don’t think that’s what he wanted.”

  Ash and Athena swerved their stares to her. Ash eyed her with interest, ready to hear what she had to say, but Athena looked startled, as if she’d forgotten Piper was there.

  “He could be trying to cut off our connections to our human families,” she said. “That way, we might think he’s all we have left in this world.” She looked up at Ash. “I know if I hadn’t met you and been introduced to this world, I wouldn’t have known that the gem was cursed and that he’d sent it. I might’ve gone looking for him if I was desperate and ignorant enough.”