Nightshade Academy Episode 2: Bloodlust

by Kestra Pingree

  “Does drawing have anything to do with your Colors?” Kian asks. “I’ve seen you draw some interesting pieces. Usually paint, actually. During your first day attending classes here, Oskar nabbed one of your drawings and showed it to me. It was kind of surreal, seeing me rendered in your style. I like it a lot. Since then, Oskar’s informed me that you draw me the most.” He grins again. “I’m flattered.”

  “Asshole. Then you know I don’t see you as a bulbous-headed green alien.”

  Kian chuckles. “Yeah, but the way you described it—”

  I grab his crisp white shirt sleeve. I don’t know why, I just do. He’s wearing his school uniform like me. I wonder why he didn’t change out of it. Does he come here right after classes end?

  I let go and ask, “There’s really no way for you to turn off your visions?”

  “No. Should I stop talking?” Kian kicks the water, sending droplets several feet out. Ripples mar the still surface, distorting the stars overhead. The sky is getting greener, meaning I should probably head back inside soon.

  I can’t figure Kian out. I’ve never had a boy who just wants to talk to me like this. I never had a girl like that until Emery, either.

  What is wrong with the people at Nightshade Academy?

  CHAPTER 10

  “Our Colors are complementary,” I blurt.

  Kian places his hands behind him and leans back. I notice he’s careful not to touch me. “Yours and mine? If mine is green, I guess yours would be red or something?”

  “Basically, yeah. Well, mine is pink. Your green isn’t the kind of green that’s a perfect complement to red. But yours and Oskar’s Colors look nice together, too.”

  “Oskar’s is red?”

  I nod.

  “Huh. That’s interesting.”

  I tug at the bottom of my plaid skirt. “Why do you want to be my friend? You better not say it’s because of your visions.”

  “Then I won’t say it. I like the thought of considering everyone here a friend, so regardless of visions, I’d want to be your friend anyway.”

  “I think you’re telling the truth.” Your Color doesn’t lie. “And you always say hi and wave at me when you see me. I don’t understand you and Emery at all. Even the Crow. Madeline.”

  “Nightshade is kind of like one big family, and you’re part of it now. We have to look out for each other.”

  “Not everyone is friendly. Oskar isn’t.”

  “Oskar and I came to Nightshade together. He’s a good guy. Really. He’s a little hard to get to know, but that’s because he doesn’t do casual friends. Once he becomes your friend, he’s fiercely loyal.”

  And I’ve seen that, haven’t I? Oskar is like Kian’s guard dog—even though Kian’s apparently the dog here.

  Heat crawls up my neck when I realize Kian is looking at me. Just… staring. That flash of red makes my heart skip a beat.

  “Stop looking at me,” I say. “It’s weird.”

  “It is? We’re talking. People usually look at each other when they talk. You want me to look at the pond instead?”

  I’ve never been good with eye contact—no surprise. “Never mind,” I say and stand. The sky is getting way too light. “I need to go. To bed. The sun is coming up.”

  “That it is. Good night, then.”

  I hold my muddy Converse in one hand (they’re going to need a more thorough wash once I get inside) and my blood bottle in the other. I barely manage a step when a swarm of rainbow Colors rushes through the clearing with a breeze. Fairies grab hold of me, pushing me toward the pond.

  “Hey!” I squeak.

  A splash sounds from behind me, and then I’m wet. It’s enough to make the fairies leave, so I don’t think too much of it. I’m taking a shower when I get inside anyway.

  “You’re all being little assholes tonight,” Kian says, standing right behind me.

  Not all of the fairies left, because one tugs on my hand and then Kian’s, so our skin brushes for a fraction of a second before Kian growls. “Enough. I mean it.”

  But even when his hand’s no longer touching mine, I feel the buzz of where it was. Our Colors sit side by side, so pretty and lovely.

  “Sorry about the fairies,” Kian says. “I thought it was enough to warn you about the pixies, but they’re all moody as hell sometimes. They aren’t so bad when you get used to them and figure out how to set some boundaries, though.”

  “They don’t seem to have any boundaries with you,” I say.

  Footsteps sound along the stone path I took to get here with rose red seeping in through the little cracks of foliage. I take a step back toward Kian, because Oskar’s rose red is never very inviting when it comes to me, and right now it’s as prickly as ever.

  When Oskar enters the clearing, Kian says, “Hey.”

  Oskar replies the same way and adds, “It’s time to turn in, man. Or are you planning on sleeping out here tonight? I’m pretty sure the fairies will whisk you away somewhere if you do. You’ll probably never come back.”

  “Can’t have that.”

  “Unless you want to wake up their eternal slave—not that they don’t have you wrapped around their little mouse fingers already.”

  “C’mon. Don’t be rude.” But Kian’s laughing.

  Oskar’s rose red flares kind of like fire. “What’s she doing out here?”

  “She has a name.”

  Oskar huffs, closing the gap between him and Kian with one long stride, and catches Kian’s forearm. Kian grasps Oskar’s wrist before he can tug.

  “Chill out,” Kian says. “We’re all tired, and we’re all turning in.”

  Oskar lets him go.

  “Bye, Nova.” Kian turns to me. “Better hurry before the sun comes up. Like, maybe think about running. That goes for you too, Oskar.” Oskar slings his arm around Kian’s neck. Kian growls, but he’s lost his balance. “Don’t pick a fight you can’t win.”

  “Looks like I’m winning,” Oskar remarks. “The sun is on the horizon and your strength is almost nowhere to be found.”

  “You asked for it.”

  Kian takes a calculated step. I think. It sends him and Oskar headfirst into the pond, but it does get Oskar to let him go.

  “Fuck!” Oskar exclaims. “It’s cold as a witch’s tit in here!”

  Kian splashes him. “Go on, run away. The sun won’t be so nice.”

  I’m just going to sneak away now.

  I barely make it back onto the stone trail when a sunny orange silhouette bursts out from a curve along the path.

  “Nova,” Emery says, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Don’t you know the sun is about to come up?” She takes my arm. “C’mon. I’m not going to sit here and watch you turn to dust, because that’s exactly what I’ll be forced to do when the sun turns me into a titanium-gold alloy statue.”

  I let her guide me back to the castle. Her warmth feels nice, and our Colors look nice together. Her skin isn’t Kian’s, but it’s still soft and warm. It gives me a similar feeling. And I like it. I really like it. Why does it feel different? I’ve never liked to touch. Mom always told me not to touch.

  She always told me never to make friends.

  Don’t trust anyone, Nova.

  My stomach curls and churns. Maybe these people are nice to me—or they pretend to be. Madeline still left my mom to fend for herself with her dangerous ex-vampire-lover on the loose.

  I reclaim my arm and accidentally hit Emery’s arm with a muddy Converse, but she doesn’t complain. She just says, “You need a bath. And now I need a bath. I’ve got the perfect herbal blend. Okay, nothing you’ve probably used before your vampireness kicked in, but it’ll be good.”

  As friendly, as nice, as they might seem, I can’t forget the most important thing: I’m the only constant I have.

  CHAPTER 11

  Once again, I find myself in Madeline’s office. I don’t know how she thinks this is helpful. It’s not like it’s going to change how I see Colors or anythin
g. It’s constant. It is what it is.

  The Crow is in here today, making a ruckus. He’s moving big pieces of furniture with his telekinesis. He said he couldn’t do anything very impressive, and I guess he has to focus on one thing at a time, but some of these things must weigh hundreds of pounds, and he’s moving them with his mind as if they weigh nothing. I’m not sure why he’s doing it, though. I walked in here, took a seat, and he was already well on his way to doing whatever he’s doing.

  Madeline sits down across from me and threads her fingers. She sighs and pulls back a loose strand of hair. The vermilion sands trickling through her hourglass silhouette are uneven today, and I imagine she’s wearing a similarly frazzled look. If I squint, I can see that her curls aren’t quite so perfect today.

  “Kyrie, just leave it,” she says. “It’s not in here.”

  “You asked me to find it, so I’m going to find it.”

  “Why do you think it’s in here?”

  “It wasn’t in the bedroom. I turned that place upside down. Besides, the fairies like to hide things nearby so you feel stupid when you finally do find them.”

  The green eyes of the black dragon mural spanning across the walls glow. They get brighter and I realize they’re fairy Colors. They tinkle and shiver, laughing at the show.

  I haven’t asked about Nightshade’s black dragon, but maybe it’s based on a real dragon. If fairies exist, why not dragons? They could live in a shielded place just like this. If they breathe fire and are as ill-tempered as the fairies, I can do without meeting one, though.

  “There it is,” the Crow says. “They put it in the safe.”

  I didn’t know this room had a safe. Then again, I wouldn’t have. It was behind a huge cupboard. I feel slightly underwhelmed when the Crow pulls out an old rag doll. It’s worn, the arm almost torn clean off. It has faded blond curls, green eyes, and it’s wearing a frilly dress. Despite the wear and tear, it seems like it’s been taken care of; it’s just been hugged one too many times.

  The Crow holds it out, and it drifts out of his palm. It floats softly through the air before draping over Madeline’s still-laced fingers. She carefully unlaces them and catches the doll, laying it down softly across the black desk’s scuffed surface. “Thank you, Kyrie. Please take it back to the room, would you?”

  “I’ll fix her arm while I’m at it,” he says.

  The doll starts floating again and drops into the Crow’s outstretched palm. His turquoise glows and dims like a cluster of fireflies. “You sure you didn’t put her in the safe yourself? You know, because she means that much to you.” He walks behind Madeline’s chair and grips the arm, fingers brushing her elbow. “Or maybe you just wanted me to pay attention since things have been hectic lately.”

  Madeline is as cold as stone, but her vermilion brightens. “Kyrie. We have a student watching your every move and listening to your every word. If you’ve forgotten, she’s also an aura reader like me.”

  “And who’s fault is that?”

  “Yours. You’ve gotten slow.”

  “You never change.”

  “And I never will. This body will be that of a child’s for the entirety of my life.”

  The Crow’s fingers loosely grip her elbow. Then he lets go, straightens up, and holds the doll a little tighter. “You’re bitter enough for the oldest woman on earth, Maddie. You grew into that. That’s something to take pride in.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  Don’t mind me, everyone. I’m just sitting here watching the show I didn’t ask for. I know Madeline must be way older than she looks, but that doesn’t make whatever’s going on any less weird.

  The Crow pats Madeline’s head, treating her like she really is a child. She smacks him away like one, too. “Get out already,” she says.

  “As you wish.” The Crow twirls around, makes an elaborate bow with the doll crossed over his heart, and seems to fly out the door like a bird. The door shuts a moment after with a dull thud.

  Madeline tsks. “I apologize for the show, Nova. That was entirely unprofessional.” She sighs. “I assume you have questions.”

  “None I should ask.”

  “How refreshing. A young person who doesn’t want to catch all the juicy gossip floating around.” She clears her throat. “Moving on.”

  “Well, I do have a question, though.”

  “Yes?”

  “Why are we bothering with these one-on-one meetings? What can you really change about my ‘aura reading’ thing?”

  “It’s not about changing it. This will be mostly a discussion time. Think of me as a counselor. Today, I want to talk, but I also want to tell you about a program I’m enrolling you in.”

  “Why? What?”

  “Do you remember Helena?”

  “The woman with a hazy-purple Color.” I correct myself: “The woman who saved me and Kian back in Barrow. She had a giant with her.”

  “Yes, and she’s Nightshade’s benefactor.”

  “I remember.”

  “She gets certain lifetime privileges because of that. Such as this talent-scouting program I’m enrolling you in. It doesn’t have an actual name, as it’s not entirely a real program.”

  “That’s not confusing.”

  Madeline presses her hand flat against the desk, leaning forward slightly. Her pillows wiggle underneath her, threatening to fall over. “She’s looking for rare talents. A sixth sense is special all on its own, but some are much more powerful than others.”

  “I just see Colors. It’s not all that impressive or interesting.”

  “Not to you, who has lived with it your entire life. Helena thinks you have potential.”

  “You told her about me. I thought counselors were supposed to keep everything said in confidence.”

  “Helena is exempt from such rules.” Madeline’s vermilion keeps getting dimmer. I can hardly see the sand dripping down the hourglass anymore. “You said yourself she saved you back in Barrow. She saved all of us. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to carry out her wishes.”

  Then why is your Color reacting so strangely to this conversation?

  “What if I don’t want to?” I ask.

  “You don’t have to do anything, Nova. I’m simply to report what we talk about and anything that might happen here that relates to your ability. Likely, that’s how it will stay. There have been a few students I’ve reported to Helena about, but none have been selected as an apprentice—which is her ultimate goal with this program. She wants someone who can ‘go farther.’ When she finds that someone, she intends to take them under her wing.”

  “No way. I’m graduating this academy and I’m leaving. Once I have this bloodlust under control, once I prove I won’t attack anyone, you’ll let me go, right? That’s what you said.”

  “Yes, and I mean it. Helena might be able to help you do that faster. I’m not trying to control your life. If Helena does want to take you as an apprentice, you are free to speak your mind.” Madeline pauses. “Maybe together we can alter your perception, so you can choose when you want to see someone’s Color and when you want to see their face.”

  Something inside me boils. I want to stand up quick and knock the chair over like someone in a high-drama TV show, but I don’t. I simmer silently, because that’s what I do.

  “There’s nothing wrong with me or the way I see things,” I say.

  “I never said there was. I thought you might be interested in something like that. That’s the only reason I brought it up.”

  “All I want is to get out of here. I don’t want Kian’s blood anymore. I’m supposed to be able to supplement blood with food. Other students can, so why can’t I? I’m sick of being dependent.”

  “Everyone is different, and you are a second-generation. You’re closer to your demon curse than most of our students. It’s frustrating. I understand, and we are doing our best to wean you off of Kian’s blood. It’s great to want independence, Nova, but it’s important to know when to lean on oth
ers and ask for help, too. Trust me.” Madeline’s vermilion flares again, the sand gets clogged inside the hourglass and stills.

  I say, “I want to go faster. Zanza is putting too much of Kian’s blood in here.”

  “Do you think you can handle that?”

  “Yes. I’ve been feeling great.”

  “Fine, but pay attention to your body. Kian is more than willing to help you. With how violently you’ve reacted to our past attempts at stabilizing your bloodlust, this is one of those cases where you should lean. If you don’t talk to me and tell me how you’re feeling and end up attacking another student, or Kian, again, I’ll have to take actions to protect my other students. And they likely won’t be to your approval. They’ll likely step on the freedom you seem to crave above all else. Remember that, please.”

  “I won’t have to. I’m not going to attack anyone.” Especially not Kian.

  CHAPTER 12

  This deadly nightshade plant is my only company inside of the bustling commons area. It’s the only company I want, so that’s fine. I’ve been sketching the plants around here, learning how many of them are classified as nightshades.

  I’m trying to distract myself from this headache.

  Zanza’s latest blood concoction means I have a continuous headache. I haven’t told Madeline, because I’m not lost in some vampire daze thinking only about tearing into Kian’s neck. It’s not a problem. It’s just part of the process. They’ll see.

  But, to be on the safe side, I’ve been avoiding Kian like the Plague since our little talk in the gardens. Sometimes I think about the water in that pond and his foot brushing mine.

  Sometimes I think about his lips on mine—even though that was all the fairies’ fault.

  Also, sometimes, I entertain the thought of going back to the gardens to see if I can find him sitting there again.