Blue Ruin (The Phoenix Series Book 1)

by Madison, Sophia

  No one would remember her. Her existence lived within Maura’s memories, full of other forgotten souls.

  Maura collected her things and left the bathroom. She found a seat far from others in the food court and sat. She examined the girl’s plane ticket. Amy Lindbergh. She swallowed the rising bile. Now she had a name for the face. With the swipe of a finger, she erased the name and examined the rest of the ticket. Amy's flight number required a change. She needed to adjust the lettering and manipulate the serial barcode to pass the flight attendant at the gate.

  Max held Maura’s plane ticket. She needed to make it out of Erewhon before Max discovered she’d used the illegal Illusion spell. Max would throw her to the high courts. Unfortunately, with the conditions of the contract Maura had signed, she needed to leave on Max’s terms. Board the appropriate flight. Arrive at Mystic Academy.

  Minutes later, Maura perfected the ticket and stuffed it into her pocket as Max walked through the hub into the terminal.

  Maura looked at her watch. Eight o’clock on the dot. She opened an abandoned magazine and spent the next hour watching Max turn around every five minutes. She continued her mindless reading until the flight attendant announced it was boarding time.

  Max waited until the last minute to board. When she disappeared around the terminal gate, Maura sprang to her feet.

  The stewardess smiled as she handed her the ticket and ran to the plane. Maura found an empty seat and breathed a sigh of relief. She caught Max’s face in the sea of unfamiliar people. She sat four rows ahead, glaring at her phone before a stewardess asked her to turn it off.

  The airplane vibrated as it rumbled down the runway. Within minutes, it soared into the sky. The pilot announced the Mundane portal was ahead and they would experience a few minutes of turbulence during the transition between worlds.

  The cabin shook like it had been thrown into the center of an earthquake. Everyone angled themselves into their seats as they bounced around. A blinding white light poured in from the windows and flooded the plane. It wrapped them like a blanket, a loud snap shooting through the cabin. The light disappeared.

  “Welcome to the Mundane,” the pilot announced. “You are now free to walk about the cabin.”

  Maura relaxed, brushing back the short black hair from areas of perspiration.

  Max sat beside Maura. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t listen.”

  Maura stiffened. “Erewhon officials can’t do anything now. I’m out of their jurisdiction.”

  “Murder and forgery,” Max mused. “You can’t help but play with fire.”

  “Are you going to send me back to Erewhon officials?”

  Max narrowed her pale blue eyes. “For my sake, let's pretend you listened to me. I don't feel like being persecuted for mingling with a Vessel, and neither do your Elixirs. I have a life outside of this uniform. I intend to keep it.” Max pulled the tray down and dropped a stack of papers onto it. “We need to cover a few things before you meet with Jessica, the principal.”

  Maura examined the papers. Huge chunks of information lined pages and snippets of key points had been highlighted on the first sheet.

  “Here’s what you are not going to tell her. You’re not going to tell her you’re a Collector. You will not release your Illusion while there.”

  Turbulence stopped Max’s words. Their shoulders bumped. Their fingers fought to grasp the same armrest. When it ended, Max pointed to the disorganized papers.

  “You will not, under any circumstances, diverge from the story I’m about to give you. And for the love of the Almighty, do not reveal your lineage.” Max pulled out a paper from the bottom of the pile. “Your name is Vera Hart, a twenty-one-year-old college student from California. Upon returning home from college, you discovered your house in shambles. Your mother, father, and younger brother, all of whom are Mystics, are deceased.” She handed over a police report of a family.

  Pictures of a crime scene Maura hadn't been involved in became her life story. She picked out the essential details of this fake life: the white shingled home, the blue caravan in the black tarmac driveway, and even how the neighbor’s lawn hadn’t been cut. She then committed the gruesome details to memory: the way the house had a gaping hole at its center, how blood painted the front walkway, and how the mangled bodies of a family lay lifeless in the garden.

  “You called me soon after, and I came to take you to Erewhon,” Max continued. “We negotiated that you would remain in Erewhon for several months so you could speak with counselors. However, wanting to return to normalcy, we agreed you would reside at Mystic Academy to finish your studies.” She slid the police reports into her bag. “That takes care of any questions regarding why you didn’t stay in Erewhon.”

  Max waited for a nod of approval. “Do we have an understanding? You’re twenty-one, a Mystic, a student, and clueless. Not an archaic rarity. And if she tries to use the Clarity Stone on you, cut your goddamn hands off.” She snapped her bag closed. “Clear?”

  “Crystal.”

  “You’ll be pleased to know you are not the only refugee. We have relocated several others there as well.”

  “Splendid,” Maura cracked, taking a drink from the stewardess. “We can bond over cafeteria food and pass notes during class.”

  Max turned to retrieve her own, sipping the liquor slowly.

  “How’d you know it was me?” Maura asked.

  Max took another sip to hide her smile. “We filled this flight with my Aegis employees for your protection.”

  Maura’s face cooled.

  “You stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the faces of my coworkers.” Max collected her things with a smug look and returned to her seat.

  Maura pulled headphones free from her bag. Situating the pillow just right, she plopped the headphones in and blasted rock music.

  The start of pretending to be someone else once again numbed her to her blackened core.

  Chapter Six: Death Sentence

  Max wanted to scream. She'd known Beth wouldn't be an easy case. Her work experience, title, and time in the Collector division gave Beth an air about her. ‘No fucks given’ air. Like all the other Collectors before her, Beth thought she could handle it on her own.

  She skimmed her fingers over the cover sheet that rested in her lap.

  Vera Hart.

  She'd liked the name. Vera. It was strong.

  Her boss said it fit the next client well. A senior Collector. Unconventional work ethics. A loner, as her partner had said. Yes, Vera would suit her. The question was whether Beth would suit Vera.

  Max rubbed her temples in small circles. She already felt the headache Beth Hollings would bring. She wiped her sweaty hands on her dress pants. She needed the meeting with Jessica to go well. Jessica welcomed refugees with open arms. Refugees who hadn't killed. Refugees who didn't have more than one reason to hide.

  Her fingers trembled against her briefcase. Sayer would kill her if he discovered she'd mingled with a Vessel and allowed her to live. Unlike Beth, she couldn't murder easily. She had spent a year as a Collector before she requested a transfer to the Aegis department. There, she protected those that had gotten away. In ten years, she'd never used the gun she still kept holstered around her ankle. A single bullet created too many nightmares.

  She side-glanced to Beth, who sat on the other side of the cab. Don't fuck this up for me.

  Ten minutes later, the cab parked beside a set of black iron gates. Beth jumped from the car while Max paid the fare. She joined Beth and slid an access card into a thin slot. The black gates opened with a deep groan, and they walked through. The Veil disintegrated and revealed the academy. The six-story structure towered over the vast front lawn. Bell towers on each end chimed with passing winds. Limestone of various shades of tan and cream gave the building personality.

  They rounded the circular drive that had an empty fountain filled with dried leaves and green water stains. Max climbed the front steps first and pushed open the wooden do
uble doors to the school. They zigzagged between students trying to leave and then turned to the right. An office door had a golden plaque that read: Jessica Bennett.

  Jessica, a middle-aged Mystic, had long brown hair that cascaded over thin shoulders. The gray suit did nothing to flatter her. Her natural beauty – the bright brown of her eyes, and the smooth contours of her cheeks – made up for her lack of fashion. The principal greeted them with a hug, and Beth tensed under the kind embrace.

  Jessica ushered them into her office.

  Cherry wood-paneled walls with dark green wallpaper, candle chandeliers, and a wall dedicated to books, gave the room a cozy feel. Two sets of double French doors sat between bookshelves on either end of the room, draped in sheer white curtains. Above the desk was a striking battle scene that consumed the wall.

  Jessica babbled about how she couldn't be happier to have another student and she’d make this a pleasant experience. Max watched Beth, Jessica’s words turning into background noise. Beth paid little attention to the principal. She analyzed the room as if counting in her head. Jessica ended her babbling with a promise that Beth wouldn't be here long, prompting a forced smile from her.

  She won't.

  Max already knew Beth would run, but it wasn't her concern. It was out of her hands. The contract only specified Beth arrived, a fact Max hadn't ignored. The Keep considered it illegal to force Mystics to stay. They were victims. Not criminals.

  Beth could handle herself. In a month, Max would return to Mystic Academy for a report on Vera Hart to find her gone. Her boss would scream about her incompetence and then he'd throw her another case.

  “I’m very pleased to have you here, Vera.” Jessica's kind smile warmed her brown eyes. “Max has filled me in on the details already, so I’m afraid I can’t trap you in my office longer.”

  Awkward silence slipped into the room, paired with awkward glances toward one another.

  “Okay.” Jessica clapped. “I made a schedule of classes for you. I know you’ve aged out of this place, but to keep a low profile you must take these classes.” She handed Beth a thin piece of paper, and Beth crumpled it into her leather jacket. “Not only take them but take them seriously.”

  “Is everyone here a refugee?” Beth asked.

  “Mystic Academy is a fully operational boarding school for Mystics ages sixteen through twenty-one. You'll find a few refugees, but I think as of now we only have ten out of two thousand. Which is why I also ask that you participate in classes. We urge all of our refugees to blend in.”

  Beth mumbled under her breath, Jessica side-glancing to Max.

  “Max told me you’re an immature Mystic,” Jessica said. “I’ve included several defense classes in your schedule. As you know, Mystics are born with one gift. Here, we like to challenge our students to use that magic to create other magic.” She smiled. “It seems to be working so far.”

  Jessica took a deep breath. “I’ll list a few rules we have, and then I’ll let you grab a bite to eat. I’m sure you’re starving. We do enforce a curfew. It’s a reasonable eleven-thirty. I’d like it if everyone was tucked away before the start of a new day.” She shot a smile before continuing. “Don’t skip class. The Keep has been very generous in picking up the tuition tab for all students. And don’t pick on other students.” With an unsure look from side to side, like she’d misplaced something on her desk, she finished her speech. “I think that’s it.”

  Jessica rose, handing over a room key and a map of the campus. “I'm going to speak with Max for a little bit. If you need any help, you know where to find me.”

  Beth stood and slammed the door shut behind her.

  Jessica let out a sigh. “Who is she?”

  Max slid Vera Hart’s case file, full of an innocent life, onto Jessica’s desk. “Vera’s just a student from California. I didn't find anything in her history,” she said. “Another random victim.”

  “The girl can shoot daggers with her eyes,” Jessica mumbled, scanning the file.

  “I wouldn't call her a girl.”

  “She's twenty-one.”

  Plus two hundred years. Max shifted in her seat.

  “I can keep her for the semester,” Jessica said.

  “The semester ends in two months.”

  “It's the best I can do.”

  “The minimum is six months.” It doesn't matter.

  “Vera seems more than capable of handling herself.” Jessica underlined sections of Vera’s forged record. “Besides, I don't like her already.”

  Max stifled a smirk. “Any particular reason?”

  “I can't read her. She has no magical scars, meaning she's an immature Mystic.” Jessica looked up from her writing, eyes darker. “Yet, she could probably kill my entire school.”

  “That's a bit extreme.”

  “Is it?” Jessica narrowed her eyes and then turned to the papers.

  “I assure you no harm will come to you or your students. She's bound by contract.”

  “I didn't get the impression she's one to follow rules.”

  “She has no choice. If she breaks the contract, she goes to the courts. The last place she'll want to be is in front of The Keep.”

  “I hope you're right,” Jessica sighed. “I trust your judgment, Maxine. But I trust my instincts more.” She tapped Vera Hart’s file. “End of the semester, and then she's gone.”

  Max nodded.

  “Is there anything else I should be concerned about?” Jessica flipped the chart closed. “PTSD, violent outbursts, previous problems?”

  She's a Vessel. A killer. Our death sentence. “No.” Max shook her head. “She shouldn't give you any problems.” She'll be gone before she becomes yours.

  Chapter Seven: The Lay of the Land

  Maura surveyed her new room. It had little to offer. The pale yellow walls were the color of a nursery. An oak desk with too many divots on its surface was adjacent the matching bed. A window rested beside the twin bed, a full-length mirror squeezed in the corner between two empty bookcases. The fact she intended to leave when night fell made the room tolerable enough for the next few hours.

  As she turned to go, she caught her reflection in a full-length mirror.

  What do you see? The Void’s silk voice penetrated the silence.

  A girl – bob-cut black hair with brown eyes – blocked Maura’s view of what actually existed. Her curves flowed to create an hourglass figure. Round hips filled out her skinny jeans while a slender torso stretched into envious cleavage. Her porcelain skin turned flawless with the simplest of charms, making it a perfect canvas. She admired the column of her neck the most when graced with elegant necklaces. But her true reflection rested beneath her perfections.

  As much as she wanted to believe this was her, The Void never allowed that comfort.

  What do you see? The Void repeated, its voice a haunting whisper.

  “What I'm not,” Maura said, tossing a thick quilt over the mirror.

  After throwing belongings Aegis had donated into the closet, she roamed the halls.

  She counted how many doors had the ‘do not enter’ sign, which staircases led to the roof, the windows she could jump from, and the nearest exits at any point in the academy. Within an hour of walking, she knew the library hid an exit on the side of the mansion. Students’ faces had been committed to memory, and she’d tested the spells over the academy, quickly broken with a charm that didn’t set off alarms.

  Sitting on the marble base of a statue in the hallway, Maura watched students pass by, gossiping about class and raving about parties. A film of magic came over her vision at will and their once hidden scars glowed brightly in the dim lit hallway.

  When she was little, Father had explained to her what those scars meant. He said that magic left a mark. The more magic someone used, the more scars a being had. These ranged in color, from red to yellow to blue. Many Mystics who had just discovered their magic bore red scars, signifying that their magic was uncontrollable. With practice, the
red transitioned into yellow during late adolescence. Hopefully, by the time they reached adulthood, their magic had matured and their scars turned blue. To Mystics, they were like badges, worn proudly and with honor.

  To Vessels, their black and silver scars only reminded them of their evil.

  A horde of giggling students raced down the hall to the cafeteria. Their shoulders bumped Maura’s when they squeezed past. She groaned and patted down her sides for a cigarette. Pulling one from her front pocket, she wandered out the front door to the edge of the property where a white gazebo was shaded by trees.

  The air, thick with the scent of dew and wildflowers, mixed in her lungs with smoke. Agitation of being away from home lessened into mild annoyance. She decided she'd leave by midnight when the halls were empty and Jessica was tucked away in bed. The threat of hall monitors or guards didn't faze her. She craved the comfort of her bed, needed solitude, and wanted to continue her hunt for Adrian.

  “He got you too?”

  A young girl stood beside her, tending to a dying rose garden. Her curly hair bounced with her movements. The dim sunlight captured copper tints that laced her irises. The roundness of her cheeks and rosy hue of her porcelain skin reminded Maura of a time when she had been young like her. Baby fat had clung to her cheeks in an unflattering way. Her voice hadn’t hit that pitch of maturity quite right until she turned seventeen.

  The corner of Maura’s lip spasmed. “What?”

  “He got you too.” The girl stood, dusted off her hands and walked to the gazebo stairs. “That’s why you’re here, no?”

  Maura inched back.

  “What kind of magic do you have?” The girl stepped closer. “I can see you’re full of magic.” She poked Maura’s arm. “That’s my power, seeing magic and predicting what powers someone will have. Well, that's the power I have so far. Professors promised I'd be able to do more by the time I graduate.”

  The urge to tell the young girl that she could summon Death lingered on Maura’s tongue.

  “My power isn't the greatest gift, but it comes in handy when strange things happen.” The redhead placed a finger to her lips. “Like the time someone put a charm on my alarm clock so it would go off in the middle of the night. No matter what I did, I couldn’t fix it. I threw the damn thing out. Turns out Hunter did it.”