Nightshade Academy Episode 2: Bloodlust

by Kestra Pingree

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2019 Kestra Pingree

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Any unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  This is a work of fiction.

  kestrapingree.com

  Summary

  I gave in to my bloodlust.

  I almost got Kian and myself killed because of it.

  Monster hunters, demons, Nighshade's mysterious benefactor. There's a lot about this world I don't know, and it keeps getting worse.

  Kian's blood is the only thing I can stomach. Our Colors react, and he knows things about me he shouldn't.

  The headmaster of Nightshade Academy says she's never seen a blood sensitivity as bad as mine, which is probably a nice way of saying my bloodlust is out of control.

  I'm starting to think I'll never get out of here or see my mom again.

  But I'm not giving up. I'm going to beat this—if Kian doesn't ruin me first.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Newsletter

  Kestra's Books

  Stay Connected

  Message from the Author

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  Days.

  Weeks.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been down here in the dark, damp dungeon with no bed and only a threadbare blanket to keep me warm aside from the lonely torches mounted on walls and the gray scrubs that have replaced my Nightshade Academy uniform.

  It’s just as well. I’ve found my clothes in tatters more times than I can count, so why would Madeline give me something nicer? A monster like me doesn’t deserve anything more than this.

  Is this self-loathing? I’ve never really experienced it before.

  I want out of here.

  I want my stomach to stop hurting.

  I want Colors to stop bleeding through the edges and occasionally painting the air when there’s nothing there.

  Nothing I drink satisfies the hunger. It’s like poison on my tongue, volatile acid in my stomach, and I keep wishing for Kian’s sweet-spicy-minty taste. From his neck. I want to take it straight from his neck with my fangs buried deep into his flesh.

  And then I remember him gasping in pain, and I come back to my senses for a moment.

  Butterfly-shaped Colors flit around down here sometimes. I wish I could say they were a comfort, but that’s not true. They don’t distract from the loneliness and isolation. Except for when the pixies decide they want to pull my hair.

  I wonder if they hate me for what I did to Kian. They seem to like him—or they like to bother him. Maybe they feel like they own him.

  I curl up tighter into a little ball and pull the blanket over my head while my stomach makes an awful chainsaw-like growl. It shreds my insides like a chainsaw, too.

  “Nova.”

  I flinch at the sound of Madeline’s childlike voice. It’s not that it grates on my ears or anything, but it’s the voice I’ve come to associate this torture with, so it might as well.

  “We’re trying something new today,” she says.

  At this point, I hardly care. I’m too weak and sick to respond.

  “Nova, you’re not done fighting already, are you? It’s only your fourth day.”

  I’ve been down here for four days? I scowl so deeply it immediately turns into a throbbing headache. To alleviate some of the pain, I smash my forehead into the cold blackish stones underneath me. I grind into them, trying to find a pressure point, trying to bash my skull in or rub off all my skin if it’ll make me feel better.

  Madeline unscrews the lid of an insulated bottle. I only know because the cap hits the stones below with a soft ding. I dig at spongy moss underneath my fingers. I’m not drinking any more of that shit. Other vampires might be able to adapt to different blood, but I’m not one of them.

  I choke out a pitiful laugh.

  Vampires. That’s my life. I’m a vampire.

  Liquid sloshes around; it’s a nearly silent sound. Then Madeline sets the bottle down somewhere outside of the burning cell bars, baiting me. I barely lift my head to take a whiff of it. I expect sour and rotten. What I get is honey-sweet, chai spices, and mint leaf. It’s faint, but it’s there: Kian’s blood.

  For the first time in “four” days, I salivate. At first, it just means there’s some moisture in my new perpetual dry mouth, but then it intensifies, the dam demolished.

  I snatch the bottle with a speed that blurs in my own eyes. Somehow, I don’t spill a drop of it, because my hand is just that steady. I hold the bottle to my lips and inhale like I’ll never inhale again. The smell is more potent this close. I can imagine how good it’ll taste when it hits my tongue.

  But I hesitate.

  It’s not quite right. Kian’s smell is in there, but it’s been diluted. Something like sweaty, smelly socks lurks underneath.

  I almost gag.

  Almost.

  “Try it,” Madeline encourages. “I’ll be very surprised if you can’t keep this down.”

  My eyes flicker, catching on her bleeding vermilion before settling on the permanence of her frilly gothic dress. The smell of this bottle’s contents has given me enough willpower to think straight again, so I guess tasting it won’t kill me. Even the worst of the worst hasn’t killed me.

  Yet.

  I tilt the bottle back and brace myself for the first drop to hit my tongue. I flinch, prepared to recoil when the cold trickles down my throat. The taste, though… The taste is bearable, almost good. I take another experimental gulp. My stomach accepts it without protest. For a moment, Colors stop bleeding so intensely through their containers. The weird effect is there, the Colors appearing brighter than they should be, but it doesn’t give me a headache to simply look at them anymore.

  Kian’s blood is like magic.

  I expect to see my Color back to lotus pink, but it’s retained a muddy quality since I first drank Kian’s blood, and it doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.

  “Well?” Madeline says softly. “How do you feel, Nova?”

  “The Colors are more normal,” I say. “Your vermilion is like moving sand again instead of a bright blotch of red.” I bite my tongue too late. I shouldn’t have said that. I sound crazier than before. Madeline doesn’t know how I see things.

  “Colors,” Madeline muses. “Are you an aura reader, Nova? You didn’t write down anything about it. You didn’t tell Kyrie anything either. If you’re afraid you’ll become a social pariah if others know about this, don’t be. A sixth sense is nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “I don’t—oh, forget it,” I say. “According to your little questionnaire, yeah. I’m probably what you’d call an aura reader.”

  “Very good, but that can wait. I want to get you back to your classes. To do that, we need to make sure you aren’t going to jump Kian the first chance you get.”

  That sounds so bad, but I take another drink of this mixture that has a good portion of Kian’s blood like it’s a smoothie. It’s as refreshing as one—even with t
he smelly socks aftertaste.

  I ask, “Then why are you feeding me Kian’s blood? Sure, you mixed it with something else, but I know this taste.”

  “Yes, well, I was worried you’d die otherwise, and Kian volunteered to help.”

  Volunteered. I’m not sure why that surprises me. I mean, it should make me feel better. The alternative would be that Madeline harvested his blood for this concoction without his permission. That’s much worse.

  “I’ve never seen a blood sensitivity as bad as yours.” Madeline smooths down her puffy skirt. “So, instead of cutting you off like a clean bone break, as I tried initially, we’re going to wean you off his blood. Thanks to Kian volunteering, and Zanza’s skill with blood mixtures, I’m hopeful it won’t take long. We’ll have you feeling good and back on your feet again before you know it.”

  CHAPTER 2

  I pace back and forth in my cell. The energy I’ve regained is great except for how it makes time pass so slowly. Since there are no windows, I have no idea what time of day or night it is. I’ve been asking for a million bathroom breaks, but that hasn’t given me any clues either, since I’m kept in the dungeon for that too.

  I shove my hands into the pockets of my scrubs. My phone isn’t there, but that’s fine. I don’t get service here, and I don’t have any games on it. Madeline did fulfill my request for a sketchbook and paints, but that’s gotten old fast. Because I’ve only been drawing Kian. All I can think about is Kian, and I don’t think that’s a good way to show Madeline I’m improving.

  I. Want. Out.

  Several pairs of footsteps call for my attention. I’ve gotten used to the sound of Madeline’s Mary Janes tapping against stones, but I don’t know the others. Then my nose tickles with a familiar scent. A delicious, intoxicating scent.

  Kian.

  Just as I think his name, his chartreuse emerges from the bottom of the staircase, followed by Emery’s sunny orange and Madeline’s cascading vermilion. I back away until I’ve hit the end of my cell, as far away from the burning bars as I can get. I trample a deadly nightshade plant and dig my fingers into stones and moss. Round black berries roll across the ground or splatter under my feet. Yes, I really do have deadly nightshade in my cell.

  Ghostly flickers of Colors drift in front of me like softly falling snow, but when I blink they’re gone. I don’t know if it’s a lasting effect from the Colors bleeding before or what, but they don’t seem to be going away. Even the Colors themselves continue to bleed outside of their silhouettes consistently now.

  Kian’s blood has made it less overwhelming, but none of this happened before I drank Kian’s blood in the first place.

  I jerk my head to the side when Kian’s chartreuse blazes through my prison cell bars. Blazes. It doesn’t really blaze. It’s much dimmer than it used to be, but it’s the Color that demands my attention.

  Don’t look at him. You can’t look at him, Nova.

  I think about plugging my nose but opt for my grip on the wall to keep me in place instead. It doesn’t help much. I should have turned my back to them; Kian’s still there in my peripheral vision. He reaches out his hands for the electrified silvery bars, and that’s when I look forward, mouth open, about to warn him about them—as if he doesn’t already know? My jaw drops open when he curls his fingers around them, unaffected. Are these vampire-repellent-only bars, then? It reminds me of those wood bullets. They blazed through my own skin but simply bounced off his.

  I don’t know what Kian is. He must be a “changed” human since he’s here, but that’s all I have to go on.

  And a black dog with the same Color as his.

  “Hey, Nova,” Kian says. His voice is warm like my memories of the sun. He squeezes the bars hard as if he intends to break them, and I have to look away. Since he’s wearing jeans instead of his school uniform, it must be the weekend.

  I keep my fingers digging into the wall. In fact, I press harder, until I cut skin and warm blood drips from my fingertips. I don’t want to talk to Kian. Does he still have the mark I left on his neck? I squint, doing my best to see past his color, but I can’t tell for sure.

  How do you show someone you’re sorry? Words aren’t going to work here. They just can’t.

  Sunny orange joins Kian, and Emery frantically waves her hand; she’s got a red lollipop in it. It’s shaped like a heart, an actual anatomically correct heart. Were her other lollipops this weird? “Nova! It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve seen you. I can’t believe Madeline is keeping you locked away down here like a rabid animal.”

  Since I’ve basically become a rabid animal, it doesn’t seem all that unfair to me—which is probably a fucked-up thing to say, but that’s where I am.

  Madeline joins the other two, and I suddenly feel like a freak in a circus. Everyone’s looking at my strangeness to get a kick out of it. Except they’re not, and that bothers me more.

  “You need to hurry up and get out of here.” Kian says that like it’s as simple as wanting it, and his hands tighten on the metal bars. Chartreuse bleeds into shiny gray like little static shocks. “We’re worried about you.”

  My whole body freezes. I can’t blink, can’t breathe. Why is his voice warm? Why does it seem like he… cares? I almost killed him, and he says he’s worried about me.

  His heartbeat pulses in my ears, steady and soft like a lullaby. My eyes fixate on that point on his neck, the artery that’s as inviting as ever—but I can look away. I don’t have to bite him. I’m salivating, but it’s slight, nothing to complain about.

  Madeline fetches her key ring from one of the hidden pockets of her skirt and opens my cell. I somehow flatten myself more than I already have, doing my best to become one with the wall.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “You’re scared, and I understand why, Nova, but you’re in control,” Madeline says. “Savor what that feels like. Embrace it. Become it.”

  She’s right. I’m not lunging for Kian.

  Emery runs forward and tosses her heart lollipop over her shoulder to shatter on the stones below. The long skirt of the purple dress she’s wearing twirls around her ankles and her gaudy pumps—as if she needs a reason to be taller. I’m surprised she doesn’t trip and fall on her face because of the uneven ground. She stops in front of me, catches my arms, and pulls my hands from behind my back.

  Her sunny orange dims and she says, “Look what you’ve done to your fingers.” Then she does something crazy. She tears off the sumptuous fabric of her skirt and wraps it around my fingers. “You’re not allowed to hurt yourself again, okay? Next time, I’ll get angry.” I think there’s no way things can get weirder, but then she throws her arms around me and squeezes. “I missed you, roommate. I feel so bad you’re down here all alone, but Madeline says things can go back to normal now.”

  “As long as she feels no drive to attack Kian,” Madeline clarifies.

  Which I don’t and can’t believe.

  God, I want to say I’m sorry, but the words are burning my tongue, turning to ash in my mouth.

  “It’ll be good to have you back,” Kian says.

  No way. He can’t mean that. I start to shake, and Emery holds me tighter. This is all wrong. Why are my eyes burning? These people can’t be real. They’re monsters, right? But they’re so warm, warmer than any human I’ve ever met. I almost want to wrap my arms around Emery in return. Almost.

  Don’t trust anyone, Nova.

  “Kian,” Madeline says, “come closer.”

  Emery finally lets me go while Madeline and Kian crowd me next. They don’t hug me, but they don’t stop until they’re about a foot away from me. They’re too damn close. Way too damn close. Kian’s smell takes up all the space in my head, but my fingers are relaxed. My legs are stiff, but I’m not going to attack him. My thoughts are my own. Mostly. Except for how good I think he smells, but maybe those are my thoughts, too. Vampire senses are to blame, but those are my own thoughts.

  I don’t know what they
mean when bloodlust isn’t involved. I guess I’m satisfied, but that doesn’t mean Kian’s going to stop smelling good. Because he’s what my body craves when its hungry.

  I’ve never felt disgusted with myself before, until this drive to eat Kian. I’d feel much better if I were just attracted to him like a normal girl probably would be. The curse of being different continues. I couldn’t be a normal human, so how could I be a normal vampire?

  How pathetic.

  Kian doesn’t seem afraid of me, though. His chartreuse changes to a dark green for a moment, but it’s as slow-moving and soft as ever. Spongy like moss. Not to mention, his fingers are hooked on his belt loops like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

  “I’m satisfied with this,” Madeline says. “Your eyes aren’t dilated. Your breathing is normal. You’re allowed back into your dorm room with Emery, and you’ll be attending classes again. However, you aren’t allowed to be alone with Kian. Zanza will be continuously lowering the amount of his blood you’re intaking, so be aware and come to me, or any of our teachers, if you need help.”

  Fair enough. I don’t want to be alone with Kian anyway.

  “In addition to the classes you’ve been taking, you’ll be meeting with me to discuss aura reading once I’ve freed up some time.”

  Cat’s out of the bag, so I guess there will be no arguing from me.

  “Welcome back,” Kian says and holds out his hand to me.

  I don’t want to take it. I don’t want to risk touching him, but I do. I hold out my hand because I wonder if his touch is as warm as his voice when my senses aren’t going haywire.

  It is. He’s just as warm even though his hands are kind of rough, even though his hold is a bit too tight.

  My heart does a weird flutter in my chest, like the flickering torchlights, and it has nothing to do with bloodlust.

  CHAPTER 3

  Vampires 101 has many more students than I remember. Most of them are crowded at the front of the classroom, talking to Zanza. There are some really little ones, too. I’m talking kindergartners.