Law and Disorder (RIP Magic Academy Paranormal and Supernatural Prison Series Book 1)

by E Hall

A man with greasy black hair and pale skin takes to the stage.

  “A vamp if I’ve ever seen one,” Yassi mutters.

  “As I understand it, you all had quite the fright during your Hallows Eve ritual last night.” His voice is low and smooth. “In the magical community, Professor Derrington is highly trained and authorized to ferry spirits to the next realm. However, recounts of last night’s ritual are unusual. We’re conducting an examination. So far it appears she followed protocol to the letter. Where it seems things went wrong was the circle was broken. As you all should know, a single person breaking the circle or candle going out cannot stop the flow of spirit traffic.”

  Someone in the auditorium makes a honking sound like a car.

  The vamp’s lips form a thin line. “However, multiple extinguished candles at once, suggests premeditation and results in a troubling situation. This begs the question: was this an accident or was it intentional? You can be sure this incident will be investigated to the fullest extent of the law. Because a law has been broken.” He gazes gravely at us. “Law enforcement does not take these things lightly. This isn’t a game or a joke.”

  Someone, probably the same person who honked, makes a joke about ghosts. Laughter rolls along the rows of those assembled.

  “I don’t think you’ll be laughing if you come face to face with a demon. They’ve been released onto campus and will soon infest this realm if we don’t act fast. The alarm has been sounded. Because of actions taken by some of you, none of you are safe.” He sweeps from the stage and the room falls silent.

  Perhaps that’s because Chancellor West strides down the center aisle like a silver streak of lightning. He climbs the stage but doesn’t step behind the microphone. His voice amplifies as he paces. “Members of the Riptivik Magic Academy community, I am deeply concerned about what happened last night. I have questions. They will be answered.” His voice is as sharp as the glare he casts Storch, but when he speaks again, addressing us, his edges soften slightly. “Don’t be afraid. You’re safe so long as the sun shines. We will take the necessary precautions, but we will not live in fear. We’ll continue our studies and resolve this issue. Classes resume as usual tomorrow. Good day.” As before, he disappears from the stage.

  My friends and I walk to the dining hall together. I catch bits of conversation about the demons-wraiths and how the early curfew isn’t fair.

  I sit at our regular table with my usual slop on my plate. When the others join me, they immediately recap the assembly, talking about Coven Constabulary chaperones. Surely, anyone who’s breaking the law would be terrified of them.

  “The demons only come out at night, so we’re safe by day,” Yassi says. “Before the Brightening, demons were created by vampires to rob fae of their light. They could appear during the day, but these seem to be more powerful since they come from the spirits of magicals.”

  “The ghosts from the cemetery became demons and now the Coven Constabulary will chaperone us to the library?” I clarify because this is the stuff of nightmares.

  Dewey nods. “As far as I know, the only protection from a demon attack are swords, certain kinds of magic, and talismans. The CC’s are the only ones who’re authorized to use those.”

  He explains how there is our realm, called Terra, and the Borea realm, which was where the spirits were going. “Magicals who’re trapped here must go on to the other realm where we’re all originally from in order to be at rest.”

  This is not common knowledge. My mind starts swimming with this information. “So there are demons in our realm?”

  Dewey rubs his chin. “Not for a long time—since before the Brightening. Occasionally someone does an arcane ritual and things go wrong, but usually, it’s resolved quickly.”

  “What do they want?” I ask.

  “Hard to say,” Yassi answers. “Before the Brightening, the demons rended fae from their shadow. These are demon-wraiths who were already dead.”

  “How many do you think there are?” Winnie asks.

  “According to Derrington, it couldn’t have been more than six.”

  “Should we even believe her?” I ask.

  The others shrug.

  “If she’s not a suspect, who did it and why? What do they want?”

  Wyatt approaches the table. “To raise an army of demons?” he asks darkly. “Unlikely. To stir up instability in the magical world? Possibly. They feed off and drain vibrant energy, magic, some call it essence, others a soul. Since they were dead, they didn’t really have any of their own so they take it from their victims. It’s called snatching.”

  I choke on my sip of cider.

  “You okay, Maija?” Yassi asks.

  “Yeah, I’m okay,” I say, catching my breath. Last night, when the spirits surrounded me, I felt like I was being drained, my life being snatched away. Then JJ rescued me. “I wish last night never happened.” I realize I’ve said this aloud.

  “Have you ever heard the saying, be careful what you wish for?” Wyatt asks wryly.

  Just then, a member of the Coven Constabulary marches over to the table. His gaze lands on me. “Maija Wessels? You’re required in the administration office.”

  I pale and get to my feet. My thoughts race with questions about what they want with me. All eyes follow me out of the dining hall.

  The walk across campus is silent and so is the office when I enter. The CC takes my wand. Storch sits imperiously behind her desk. Two chairs face her and Sage sits in one. Bobby’s sister won’t look at me.

  My stomach swims and slithers with dread but like waves crashing against rocks, there’s anger just beneath the surface. Why am I here? I didn’t do anything.

  Storch’s gaze blazes. “Maija, seems you’ve been keeping busy. I have reason to believe you were involved in the events at the ceremony that resulted in the release of demons into our realm,” Storch says, getting right to it.

  I clear my throat. “Yes, my classes are rigorous and I was there, like the rest of the students holding a lit candle, but previous to that I had no idea ghosts or demons actually existed.” I don’t mention that I was also attacked.

  She narrows her eyes. “I learned that you were in the possession of a certain grim spell.”

  I’m not quick enough to hide the drop of my jaw. My eyes dart to Sage. When we were waiting in line for pie, I mentioned Bobby and the candles but how could she have known about what he’d asked me to do? What I didn’t do. I’m a terrible liar and remain quiet. Sage relays neither her intentions nor an apology.

  “You have a choice to make.” Storch presses her lips together.

  With Bobby, I thought I had to choose between being cool and being me. But really, the choice is about being true. It’s a no-brainer.

  “Tell me the truth or find yourself with a couple of strikes against you in the Red Class. Do you remember what I said about that being the last stop before the Iron Tower? You may have evaded its walls once, but don’t count on a second chance.” Her nostrils flare.

  The threat in her tone makes me see red. I don’t spare Storch or Sage my glare. Why’d she betray me? What did Storch threaten her with?

  “Oh, I won’t count on it,” I grind out. It’s at this moment I realize that I don’t have to prove myself to anyone, well, except to myself.

  Storch’s skin pulses and flashes. Her eyes narrow to slits. All at once, she starts to shift.

  Sage lurches back.

  My magic suddenly floods me in a wave of rushing energy. If I were in a non-magical setting, I’d know my rights. Here? Like Bobby said that day when he asked me to use that spell, this is law and disorder. Mostly the latter. If I don’t stand my ground, who knows what will happen.

  But wandless? I’m not sure I stand a chance.

  Storch flares, all red shimmery magic as she shifts. Smoke fills the room.

  I eye the door. This might not end well.

  All at once, she’s in dragon form. Deep red scales and a horned crest. The only thing that is the sa
me are her amber eyes.

  Without warning, she flames, blasting the framed portraits of the heads of school with fire.

  I duck but the officials from the OMM bar the door with their wands at the ready.

  Storch bears down on me.

  I wish I had a flameproof umbrella or a wand. That would do too.

  It’s a weird, random thought but one of each appears in my hands. The umbrella is clear with pink polka dots. The wand is the usual broken wooden one. I gasp. Did I just wish those into existence?

  I scramble to my feet, backing closer to the wall as a smoke alarm blares. Storch is about a foot away, emitting heat and hate. Her snake-like dragon tongue flicks like she’s deciding whether to eat me or incinerate me.

  I hold the umbrella and wand out not sure which will be more effective. I shrink beneath the dragon’s throbbing, heaving, burning mass of scales and fury. My pulse races and terror makes my skin sizzle. Or maybe that’s my magic rising to the surface. It’s like electric silver running through my veins, lending me confidence and hope that I won’t end up like little more than a roasted marshmallow.

  I press to my feet, holding my hands out as silver and red threads of magic crackle at my fingertips.

  One of the officials encircles Storch with a shimmering magic lasso. It’s Margaret. She gives me a subtle nod. The other extinguishes the flames.

  As soon as Storch returns to her human state, Margaret releases her. I thought they were keeping me from running out, but perhaps they were meaning to keep Storch in.

  The head of administration orders them, “Not a word to anyone.”

  Margaret flicks her gaze to the CC who brought me here. I wonder if she’s “bad cop” after all.

  To Sage and me, Storch says, “You’ve been warned. Next time you won’t have officials to help you.” But then she glances at the umbrella hanging loosely in my hand. “Keep that up and you can expect to see yourself in the Iron Tower or dead. Last chance, Maija.”

  I swallow hard and breeze past Sage as my heart thunders in my chest.

  Chapter 25

  ★

  The next week passes with a pervasive, sluggish kind of dread every time the sun sets.

  There are vacant chairs in classes as hawk-eyed Ms. Storch and the inquisitors from the Office of Magical Management examine other suspected students and divides us further into the two groups. She must know I wasn’t involved. Hopefully, she doesn’t unleash her inner dragon on anyone else. Or maybe that’s the whole point.

  I’m hanging on loosely in the Red Class. Yassi and my other friends remain in the Gold. The precautions, namely the nightly curfew at dusk, remind us that demons remain at large—the administration claims these changes are for our own good. Fortunately, the library at Penny House is extensive enough I don’t have to go to the actual library all week.

  Derrington also returns after not enough days away, at least in my opinion. Her sharp stride slices the air and any notion that the investigation humbled her.

  With a flick of her wand, she clears yesterday’s lesson from the slate on the wall from our substitute about dangerous magical marine life. “New topic. The subject on everyone’s lips. On everyone’s minds. Demons.”

  In place of a chalkboard, she scrawls it with poison-green magic in the air. “Demons are an umbrella classification and wraiths fall underneath. For our purposes, we’ll simply call them demons. At their core, that’s what they are. Unnatural creatures bent on evil.”

  We learn about the spectrum of fiends and the forms they can take in the realms. She also goes into grave detail about the story of the Shadow Army, rending fae from their light and into shadow. Yassi had mentioned it once before. It’s a chilling tale.

  “When a modern demon snatches someone, they’re strengthened by the victim’s essence and can then transform them into a demon, growing their number and falling under control of whoever set them loose.”

  I’m suddenly too hot in my uniform and cold at the same time. Nervous and terrified.

  “How can we fight back or defend ourselves?” a student behind me asks.

  “You mean conserve your energy?” she quips. “You can’t. We are here to teach you to reform your magic. Not use it defensively.”

  I liked the substitute we had better.

  “Then what do we do?” another student asks.

  Derrington doesn’t answer.

  At the sound of the bell, a note flutters through the door and then lands on my desk. I recognize the handwriting spelling my name on the front of the envelope. I peel it open. It’s from Chancellor West. The note informs me that seminal seminar resumes next week. I audibly sigh and trudge to my next class. Not because I don’t find the head of school to be an exceptional teacher. It isn’t that the subject matter is boring. No, I kind of despise my singular classmate, JJ. Although, I haven’t seen him since he came to my rescue.

  Other than the continued unease surrounding the events on Hallows Eve, life on campus soon returns to a relatively normal state. Well, minus someone replacing the milk in the dining hall with glue and a case of Belgrave Blisters that afflicts one of the boys’ dorms—vampires mostly, apparently it’s exchanged from kissing and they’re known for getting around.

  The weekend also brings the kind of restlessness that bubbles up before vacation—Thanksgiving is coming and not soon enough. I hope I’ll be able to go home.

  On my way to my seminal seminar class, I reach the bottom of the stairs and realize with the curfew I can’t go outside at night without a chaperone. I follow voices to the common room, hoping someone knows where Miss Mayweather is. A tall, dark figure glides around the corner. We collide.

  JJ is as cold as I remember from the night in the orchard after he came to my aid.

  His gray eyes meet mine. He saved me. I probably owe him more than my typical disdain. Instead of asking what are you doing here? (I wouldn’t be surprised if he was dating someone in the dorm, he’s attractive in that mysterious, brooding kind of way some girls go for), I simply say, “Hi.”

  “Hi?” he asks.

  “Hi,” I repeat.

  His expression shifts from confusion back to his usual grimace. “I’m here to escort you to class.”

  I fight a frown. “You?”

  “Do you question my ability to bring us there safely?” A muscle ripples along his jaw as though my hesitation is a dare.

  Once more, the scene in the cemetery and orchard rushes back. He carried me away from demons without either one of us being snatched. Maybe that’s his talent—he’s a knight in Riptivik Academy armor.

  “No,” I say, but the sound is more of a croak than a word.

  He opens the door for me, and I set foot into the night for the first time since he accompanied me back to my dorm. However, I don’t follow him down the steps.

  A breeze sweeps over the remaining autumn leaves on the ground. I clutch my arms across my chest. Knowing the demons are out there doesn’t embolden me forward.

  JJ clears his throat and then his cold hand is in mine. I snatch it back.

  “I have to,” he growls.

  “What?”

  His grey eyes spark with amusement. “You haven’t left the dorm all week, have you?” he asks knowingly.

  “No,” I repeat, clearer this time.

  “Our energy is stronger together. When it comes to demons, that’s how it works. If you’d gone to the library, you and everyone else would have held hands.” He clasps mine. “It’s not—” He doesn’t finish, but I know he would have said it’s not because I want to hold your hand.

  I give in. JJ doesn’t rush across campus but rather saunters as though he’s willing the demons lurking around to notice us.

  When Nightingale Hall comes into view, relief washes through me. I find my voice again. “Is it just outside that we’re at risk?” I ask.

  “Protections are built into the architecture of the buildings on campus.”

  “I didn’t know that was possible. That kind
of magic, I mean.”

  “Since Hallows Eve, the OMM is working overtime to protect every dwelling, business, and structure…in the world. But Riptivik had them in place long ago.”

  “Are non-magicals at risk because of what happened on Hallows Eve?”

  “Demons don’t discriminate. In recent years, there haven’t been this many loose. If they get their hands on—”

  A shiver of silence passes between us until I say, “My dad is an architect. A non-magical one. Is he at risk? What about your family? Do they live on Skerry Street too?” Hearing our voices is like a flashlight in the night and I ramble on.

  He grunts in response.

  Atop the stone steps of Nightingale, JJ opens the door, gesturing me forward. The warmth from inside softens me. I say, “Thank you for doing this.”

  “No need to thank me. Just doing my duty,” he snaps.

  I stiffen with irritation. He’s impossible, giving me nothing but anti-answers. “No need to be rude,” I counter.

  “I wasn’t being rude. I was being—”

  “Honest. Right. I get it. You hate me.” My voice echoes off the marble stairwell.

  He stops me on the landing. The pools of his gray eyes chill me. He leans so close, I can smell his fresh air scent. “I don’t hate you, Maija.” His voice is low like he’s telling a secret.

  My heart flips but I shake him off. “Yeah, but I know you don’t like me enough to be polite and have a normal conversation like a normal person.”

  “I’m not normal,” he hisses.

  “If I’m being honest, I don’t like you either.” My words crash to the floor, taking anything good about his expression with them. I storm away and take the lie with me.

  When we settle in the classroom, West pauses his pacing and gazes at us a moment longer than is comfortable. His eyebrows lift. “Hmm.” He waits an agonizingly long time before he speaks. “I suspect the demons won’t be a problem much longer, but in the meantime, the two of you will be working closely together.”

  “This is close enough,” I mutter.

  West shakes his head. “It’s important you learn how to block your energy, Maija. The easiest access point to learn this skill is through blocking memories because they’re imprinted most solidly in us. Later, we’ll work with original thoughts and information in the present.”