Academy of Sorcery: Term 1: Unleashing Trials

by Alexa B. James

I nod at the two of them, grateful to have a couple friendly faces in this sea of strangers. “So, they’re the resident mean girls here?”

  “They went to our high school,” Asher explains. “They made friends in, like, Kindergarten because they’re all named Bella. And judging from the past hour, they’ve already established themselves as the Ones to Watch.”

  “Now that you’re on her radar, you’re kind of screwed,” Elowen says, biting at a hangnail.

  “Girl, I’m from the ghetto,” I said. “People like her don’t scare me.”

  Asher purses his lips, which are plump and pierced and possibly coated with gloss. “We’re going to be friends,” he says. He plants a hand on his hip and points to my outfit, scanning my body from head to toe with one finger. “But if you want to hang with us, you have got to do something about that outfit.”

  He’s wearing a distressed grey T-shirt, ripped skinny jeans, and combat boots, and his black hair is slicked back with gel. And though he’s critiquing me, I can’t help but like him already. He tells it like it is, which is just my style.

  “They have clothes for us,” Elowen says, hooking her thumb toward some makeshift dressing rooms set up behind curtains. “Everyone who’s anyone will be here to watch the Unleashing. They want us dressed to the nines.”

  As we go through racks of clothes, searching for the perfect dresses and a suit for Asher, they fill me in on the competition.

  “Definitely steer clear of the Bellas,” Asher says. “Especially Bella Goodwin—the blonde. She’ll do whatever it takes to get what she wants. And trust me when I say she always gets it. Her daddy’s on the board of the Society of Supernaturals itself.”

  “And what is it that she wants?” I ask, unimpressed.

  “The one thing she knows she can’t have. Thorn Cristofaro.” He wiggles his pierced eyebrows at me. Obviously, I’m not the only one who thinks that jerk is mouthwatering.

  “He’s the only guy she couldn’t get in high school,” Elowen says.

  “And the only guy she didn’t get, if you know what I mean,” Asher says. He holds up a skinny suit, and we both give him the thumbs up.

  Elowen nudges Asher. “Except you.”

  “Even if the thought of eating pussy didn’t make me squeamish, I wouldn’t touch that snake with a ten-foot pole,” Asher says. “No offense to your pussies. I’m sure they’re lovely.”

  “My pussy takes no offense,” I say, laughing. I can’t believe we got here so fast.

  Elowen holds up a shiny black gown against her wispy frame and gives us a questioning look, chewing at her lip. From the next row over, Blonde Bella points at us and lets out a nasty laugh. “Look, Bellas. The janitor already found some trash to take out.”

  Elowen shoves the dress back on the rack, her face reddening. Even though it was not the right dress for my new friend, and it might have resembled a trash bag a teensy bit, I jump to her defense. “Yeah, I found some trash,” I say, pointing at Bella. “Right there. Let me show you to your Dumpster.”

  “Don’t make me come over this rack, bitch,” she says.

  “Don’t start what you can’t finish,” I say.

  “Oh, I’ll finish,” she says. “You just wait. It’s coming.”

  “I won’t hold my breath,” I say. Shaking my head, I turn back to Asher and Elowen. “You were saying?”

  Asher laughs. “You’re a keeper.”

  “So, you went to high school with those bitches, huh? My apologies.”

  “Where’d you go?” Asher asks, holding a rich, purple dress against my curvy frame. “I don’t recognize you.”

  “Oh, you know,” I say, trying to sound light. “I dropped out a few years ago.”

  I don’t want to unload the whole depressing story. I’m here, on the precipice of a brand-new start. I’m going to make the best of it, dammit.

  “I’m sorry,” Elowen says, looking up at me with big, sad eyes. I have a feeling I’m not the only person here with a sad story.

  Before I can ask if she wants to talk about it, the door swings open and another gorgeous hunk of man strides in. He’s got a hard set to his chiseled jaw, and an even harder look in his eyes, but it doesn’t detract from his striking masculine beauty. His blond hair is cut short on the sides and slicked back on top, and his jawline would make any man in America envious. The air in the room seems to crackle when he walks in, and my mouth literally starts to water as I take in every inch of his tall, lean, muscular build.

  Where the hell do they grow these guys?

  His eyes take in the room full of candidates for the Academy of Sorcery. In one glance, he dismisses all of us. “Five minutes,” he says, then disappears out the door.

  “Hurry,” Asher says, grabbing me and Elowen and dragging us toward the dressing rooms. “The Unleashing is about to begin.”

  Chapter 3

  Like a migration of brightly colored butterflies, we stream out into the auditorium where a platform is set up in front. There are hordes of people in the audience, proud magical parents and relatives in addition to the all-important Society of Supernatural members.

  Dad is obviously not in attendance. I don’t know if a fire could drag him out of the house.

  Once on the platform, I half-heartedly glance out into the crowd, searching for him nonetheless. Just in case. Maybe he changed his mind about the Unleashing after all. Maybe he showed up for me.

  Unsurprisingly, he’s nowhere to be found. Refusing to let myself feel disappointed, I turn back to the platform above, where the magic of soothsayers and psychics, empaths and telepaths will be unleashed on the world. Well, not really on the world. That’s why the Academy exists.

  So yeah. I have bigger things to worry about today than whether my dad stepped out of his comfort zone to see if I am a magical legacy or not.

  Up on the stage, the mean-looking hottie from the changing room starts to speak, getting my full attention.

  “Welcome,” he says, opening his arms. He’s wearing some kind of cloak, so when he spreads his arms, the garment spreads like shimmering black wings. His voice easily carries over the whole crowd like he’s speaking into an invisible, magical microphone. The murmuring crowd falls silent, the air charged with anticipation. “I’m Ryker Steele, a sorcery student at the academy. On behalf of the staff and faculty of the Academy of Sorcery and Other Magical Arts, we thank you for your attendance at this year’s Unleashing Ceremony.”

  I notice how they just shorten it to Academy of Sorcery when not talking to the heads of the magical community, like no one else is important. After all, sorcerers are the most powerful of all, the ones capable of controlling the magic of all others—both binding it at birth and unleashing it at age eighteen. Oh, well. I won’t have to deal with these snobs much longer.

  Ryker goes on. “Esteemed Society of Supernatural members, Witch and Wizard Council, family, friends, and academy candidates, please enjoy this year’s Unleashing. Let us begin.”

  To my surprise, both Rocco and Thorn appear out of thin air, one on either side of Ryker. A gasp goes up from the audience. They are similarly attired—black skinny pants, shimmering black cloaks that seem to drip with magic somehow, as black as the night sky and shimmering as if they contain the universe of stars.

  Beside me, Asher gives a breathy sigh.

  I knew these guys had something to do with this, but finding out they’re actually two of the four who unleash powers makes me a little nauseous.

  Thorn’s warning makes a lot more sense now. There I was smarting off to them like a brat, and they’re not just hired goons for the academy, out to chase down errant magical progeny. They’re freaking sorcerers.

  “Good morning,” says the fourth man to appear on the platform. He takes the steps up, skipping the fanfare. He addresses the group of recruits instead of the crowd filling the seats.

  “I’m Professor Darius, Head Sorcerer and instructor here at the academy,” he says. Somewhere around six feet, he’s got chestnut brown hair,
chiseled features, and chocolate brown eyes. Everything from his neatly cut and styled hair, to his entrance, to the way he addresses the prospective students in a kind manner that settles my nerves tells me he’s nothing like the other three sorcerers. Not to mention he’s tall and lean, while they look like they were transported from a body building magazine. He looks classy. They’re almost thuggish.

  “I’m going to faint,” Asher whispers, fanning himself. “He’s even more gorgeous in person than online.”

  “Deep breaths,” I whisper, trying not to laugh at his reaction.

  Professor Darius glances at us, and I could swear he heard us, the way his eyes linger just a second too long. Heat shimmers along my limbs. Damn. Now I need to be fanned. He takes ‘hot for teacher’ to a whole new level.

  “As is known, the four most powerful wielders of magic are responsible for releasing the magic within the new recruits,” the professor says. He goes on for a minute while I ogle the sorcerers. Maybe hotness is a requirement for being a sorcerer. Or maybe their high magic level makes them somehow irresistible to lowly minions like me. All of them could incite butterfly riots.

  More than that, they’re fucking powerful. Four masters of all magic. I didn’t let them intimidate me before, but considering what they’re capable of, I probably shouldn’t have let my smart mouth get so out of hand. Standing here with the nervously shifting new recruits, it finally feels real. These guys are no joke. This ceremony isn’t only going to tell me if I’m blessed with magic. It will affect the rest of my life.

  Before I can bring my train of thought back to the little speech the professor is giving, it’s over, and the first recruit is walking up the stairs to the stage, her legs visibly quaking.

  My mind wanders again. Why did two advanced students from the academy come looking for me? I’d think a servant girl working for a warlock would be small potatoes to ranked sorcerers like them.

  “Kneel,” Professor Darius says in a commanding but gentle tone.

  The girl does as she’s told, gets down on her knees, closes her eyes, and waits. Even from here, I can see her hyperventilating, though I can’t tell if it’s nervousness or excitement.

  The four sorcerers lay their hands on her head while Professor Darius sets his fingers on the center of her forehead and closes his eyes.

  “Deep within our souls we hold and hide the power of the universe until such time as it’s ready to blossom,” Darius says. “From the core of your being, from the point of all creation, we four ambassadors of magic unleash and unlock your power.”

  For a second, it looks like nothing’s going to happen.

  Until it does.

  “Unleash,” the four sorcerers say as one.

  The girl starts trembling again, only this time it’s so forceful that I’m a little scared for her. A strange blue light emanates from her and bursts through the room, and then it’s gone.

  “House of light witches,” the professor declares.

  A round of applause fills the arena, and the smile on the girl’s face is infectious. Apparently, she’s stoked with her magical designation.

  “This is kind of cool,” I whisper to my new friends.

  After the first girl, Professor Darius calls name after name, unlocking magic within those who have it and dismissing those who don’t. The myriad of emotional energy pouring through the arena right now is palpable. Whether magical or not, everybody seems to have an opinion. Disappointment exudes from those who have no magic, while anxiety and excitement come from those who do.

  Finally Elowen is called. She wobbles up the steps, even paler than before. She stands before the four sorcerers for a second and then drops to her knees like it’s the only thing saving her from fainting dead away. I find myself squeezing my hands into fists, rooting for her to get something good as the sorcerers place their hands on her head. Professor Darius touches her forehead, then says the incantation. After a moment, black wisps of something that looks like smoke begin to rise from her head. The three younger sorcerers draw back a bit, looking tense, as if they expect frail little Elowen to bite them.

  This hasn’t happened to anyone yet. I glance at Asher, who looks as startled as I feel.

  “House of Necromancy,” Professor Darius says.

  Elowen’s eyes burst open, and her jaw drops. “No, it can’t be true,” she cries in a desperate voice. She glances up to the professor as if imploring him to change his mind. “I’m not evil,” she says, her voice shaking. “I can’t be evil.” She reaches out and grabs the professor’s wrists. “Please. Pick something else.”

  “I didn’t choose Necromancy,” he says gently. “It chose you. Dark magic is dark, not evil.”

  The professor reaches down to help Elowen up, but she flops onto the stage and starts to sob uncontrollably. I can’t help but feel sorry for her. I wouldn’t want to have magic that could raise the dead, either. A second later, an old grisly dude dressed in black robes appears on the back of the stage, grabs Elowen by the arm, pulls her to her feet, and drags her off the platform.

  “What the hell?” I bark, angered by the way they just treated her, no matter what magic she has. The three sorcery students stood there looking at her like she carried plague.

  Ryker shakes his head as the man in black disappears with my new acquaintance. He looks on with his lip curled in disgust. “Drama queens. Always have to make a scene.”

  Just when I thought I might be able to tolerate one of the guys, he blows it. He’s as much of a dickbag as Rocco. I seriously hope I don’t have any classes with these assholes.

  After a few more non-magical progenies walk out, disappointed to be normal, it’s Asher’s turn. He rushes up the steps and gets to his knees. After the ceremonial words, Professor Darius announces that Asher is a wizard. Asher grins as he gets to his feet and walks off to join his new comrades who will be joining the House of Wizardry.

  Waiting nervously, I stand in line a few more minutes until it’s my turn. Though I’m so excited and nervous that my stomach churns, my knees are strong as I climb onto the stage.

  Magic is passed down through DNA, so there’s a fifty-fifty shot that I could have some. Unless Thorn is right, and it skips a generation. That would suck. If I get my mom’s power, no doubt I’ll be a little disappointed, but at least I won’t have to walk out with my head hung in shame. Not that being psychic is anything to write home about. I’ll take a few online classes and maybe earn some money reading fortunes on the side while working for Silas for the next bazillion years. At least I’ll know when to leave early because of flooding.

  “Took your sweet time getting up here,” Rocco grumbles.

  I roll my eyes at him.

  Ryker points to the floor. “Knees.”

  Rocco leans in and whispers into my ear. “You’re used to being on your knees, right, Cinderella?”

  I turn my face up to him and give him my most charming smile. “Earthworm,” I whisper, crooking my little finger at him.

  “Not here,” Ryker snaps at Rocco before he can say whatever pervy thing was coming to his dirty mind.

  “She does have a strong sexual energy,” the professor says quietly, so only the four of us can hear.

  “Seriously?” Humiliated, I hiss out my words, not caring that he might be my teacher soon. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Darius says. “Please kneel as we unleash your power.”

  Letting out a sigh, I get down to my knees, hoping to get out of this without losing whatever dignity I have left.

  Eyes closed, I try to relax and ignore a fuss that’s going on in the crowd below while the four sorcerers put their hands on my head. With bated breath, I wait as the four sorcerers say, “Unleash.”

  At the same moment, someone below the platform yells, “Stop!”

  But it’s too late. A strange, searing heat rushes through my veins, getting stronger until it’s crushing into my chest and exploding from inside me. Hot light flas
hes behind my eyelids, and my entire body—like, every nerve and muscle— explodes with some kind of ancient, primal energy I can’t even describe in words. I gasp, falling back from their hands.

  Heat is pulsing so hard between my legs I can’t tell if I want to scream with pleasure or pain. A need is ripping apart my insides, like the entire universe depends on if I satisfy this craving right this very instant. I curl onto my side, biting down on my fingertips so I won’t plunge them between my aching thighs. I force my eyes open, realizing that I’m lying on the stage floor. But no one is staring and laughing.

  Three men in black-trimmed purple robes are on the stage, holding back the sorcery students, who are looking at me with a kind of smoldering lust that makes my need pulse even stronger. I gasp in pain, biting down on my lip as my hands slide down my body, caressing my curves. Rocco’s mouth is literally hanging open, and Thorn’s eyes are locked on mine with such force I almost cry out. Ryker’s eyes are squeezed shut, but I can see a pronounced ridge straining at his slacks. I gulp, my clit throbbing with the beginning of something I definitely don’t want to happen in an arena full of spectators.

  A man with short white whiskers and a Santa belly is red-faced and yelling at Professor Darius, and beyond them…

  I swallow hard, caught between lust and horror as I see the crowd in the arena. It seems I’m not the only one caught in this madness. People are tearing off their own clothes and the clothes of those next to them. Couples are kissing, groups are groping, and I spot one naked woman riding a man for all she’s worth while a man behind her is groping her breasts, his eyes rolling back in his head in pure bliss. As I tear my eyes away, I only find more of the same.

  Kissing. Rubbing. Blowjobs. Dudes going down on women. Or other dudes. Girl on girl, guy on guy, nobody seems to care who they’re with as long as they have someone to bang.

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  This cannot be real. It feels like I’m dreaming, though I know I’m not.

  What the hell is happening? And better yet, why?

  Professor Darius did say something about my sexual energy beforehand. Did I do this? No way. It can’t be. But oh my god, I want him. Or any of them. My body is on fire, like I’m filled with lava. I crawl toward Ryker, who’s closest to me. I grab his legs and climb him like a monkey, running my lips along the ridge in his pants. He lets out a loud hiccupping sound as the guy holding him tries to push me away. But there’s nothing that can stop me now. I throw myself into his arms, wrapping my legs around him. The second our bodies collide, pleasure like nothing I’ve ever felt wracks my body, and I bite back a cry, shuddering against him as my entire body pulses again and again.