The Coven - Academy Magic Complete Series

by Chandelle LaVaun

  A couple of guys jumped out in front of me, blocking my view. They all had matching red cups and buzzed heads. I tried to push past them, but one of them stood in my way. He looked me up and down with his dark, bloodshot eyes, and gave me a grin that made my stomach turn.

  “Hey, baby, don’t I know you?” he slurred, then licked his lips. “Yeah, yeah, we hooked up in my truck last weekend.”

  I narrowed my eyes and stood up straight. “No, we did not.”

  He leaned forward and grinned even wider. “Give me a kiss right now, or I’ll tell everyone we did.”

  My cheeks flushed with heat. Rage pumped through my veins. “Go ahead. I’ll tell them you lasted thirty seconds and moaned your mother’s name.”

  “OH!” His friends cheered.

  I shoved past him and practically sprinted into the next room. As the bright white lights of the kitchen washed over me, I took a deep breath and tried to push that pervert’s threat aside.

  “Girl, what on earth are you wearing?”

  “A personality disorder, I’d say.”

  I turned toward the two voices and cringed internally. It took every ounce of self-control not to shriek and run away. I recognized the three girls standing a few feet over: Lauren, Stacy, and Carry-Anne. My bullies. The source of my misery through middle school.

  Lauren, aka Spawn of Satan, cocked her head to the side like a confused puppy. “Bettina, what are you doing here? And whose closet did you raid?”

  “Seriously, pick one personality and stick with it,” Stacy mock-whispered.

  Guess I’m not invisible. Great. But then their words clicked. I frowned and looked down at my outfit. I thought I looked cute. Maybe a little quirky, but cute.

  “Aw, bless her heart. She doesn’t get it.” Carry-Anne stepped closer and tugged on the lapel of my jacket. “Leather jacket with sequin sleeves says diva, but this baby-doll dress says dorky little sister.”

  “Black tights? Hello, goth queen.” Stacy shook her head in disgust. “Beat up Converses? Newsflash, hipster was so last year.”

  “Felt choker and a beanie?” Lauren stepped close and flicked my throat, ignoring my wince. She leaned closer and whispered loud enough for everyone around to hear. “You’re not trendy enough for that. Why don’t you go home and change, then not come back?”

  Stacy snarled and flipped her bleached-blonde hair over her shoulder. “Try not to be such a disgrace to the rest of us blondes.”

  I sighed. Why am I here? I liked being invisible. Well, apparently I wasn’t invisible, but at least I was ignored. I had no idea why they hated me so much.

  I shook my head. “Weren’t we all much happier when you pretended I didn’t exist? Let’s go back to that.”

  Lauren giggled and it made the hairs on my arms stand tall. “Then why are you here?”

  “Not for you,” I snapped and stormed away.

  It probably wasn’t my smoothest display of confidence and strength, but I had to get out of there.

  Then why are you here? Her words echoed in my brain. She made a good point. Being here was a terrible idea. My worst idea yet. I had no idea what I was thinking. There was no way I was going to make any friends at a party like this.

  Abort mission. ABORT MISSION. I ducked my head and zoomed through the house until I found my way to the front door again. Squeezing past the herd of people, I made it three steps out the front door when I cursed my luck. Dean stood about fifteen feet away on the same sidewalk I was on. He hadn’t seen me yet, but any second he would and then he’d make me go back inside. I stopped walking, needing a few moments to collect myself.

  Popular kids could smell fear.

  Dean nodded and pushed his black-rimmed glasses higher up on his nose. His dark brown hair poked out from under his red beanie, which I had to admit, looked a lot like mine. That made me smile. He wasn’t dressed fancy or in anything that would suggest he had loads of money. His gray T-shirt and faded blue jeans looked like something you’d buy anywhere. He looked like someone I could maybe be friends with. He was talking to another guy, but I was intentionally not looking. I’d had enough encounters for the evening.

  There was a crashing noise behind me, and it brought Dean’s gaze up and over…then it landed on me.

  He smiled and waved me forward. When I stepped up beside him, he gave me a high five. “Bettina, you made it! This is my friend Jackson Lancaster.”

  I peeked up at the guy, and my breath left me in a rush. My pulse thundered in my ears. I felt each and every beat slam against my ribs. It felt like I’d been donkey-kicked. I couldn’t breathe. The world around me was starting to get fuzzy, but I couldn’t get my lungs to function. Heat raced through my body until I could’ve sworn I was on fire.

  Snap out of it, brain. He’s not that cute.

  You’re right. He’s gorgeous.

  He stood a few inches taller than me with big, broad shoulders. His skin was tanned like he spent a lot of time in the sun. His hair was chestnut and caramel mixed with dark blond to make a glorious golden bronze. It was fairly short, but left long enough on top I could run my fingers through the strands.

  A light scruff covered his sharp jaw. His cheekbones were high and his lips full. Even with his eyebrows scrunched down low in a deep scowl, the sparkle of his eyes couldn’t be hidden. They were the most glorious shade of aquamarine I’d ever seen. I’d never been to the Caribbean Sea, but I imagined that was the exact color.

  Jackson Lancaster was breathtaking.

  I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out.

  “You’ve got thirty minutes,” Jackson snapped in the most glorious English accent I’d ever heard. His voice was warm and smooth, like honey. “Then I’m gone.”

  Chapter Two

  BETTINA

  “Brits,” Dean said with a shrug. Then he smiled down at me. “Let’s go back in.”

  I forced a chuckle and followed him toward the door. I did not, in fact, know how Brits were. But I did know my body was on fire. The heat in my cheeks told me I was blushing. Jackson hadn’t been friendly, but then again, I had just been openly gawking at him. I’d probably made him super uncomfortable.

  Smooth move, Bettina.

  The second we stepped back inside the house, I scanned the party for that head of golden bronze hair, except I didn’t see him anywhere. He’d just disappeared. If Dean was bothered by his behavior, he didn’t show it. For that matter, if Dean was bothered by my behavior, then he didn’t show it either. Maybe Dean actually was a nice guy. He led me through the party like Moses parting the Red Sea, with a smile plastered to his face.

  As we walked into the kitchen, the murmur of voices hushed until all I heard was the thumping bass of the music that echoed the pounding of my heart. I took a deep breath and tried to look confident, but I felt the burning glares of Lauren, Stacy, and Carry-Anne on my face.

  “There you are, Dean,” Lauren purred. “I was looking for you.”

  I was behind him, so I couldn’t see his face, but I imagined he’d snarled back at her. He probably hadn’t, but I liked my version better.

  He let her kiss his cheek then moved to the refrigerator. “Nice to see you, ladies. Have you met my friend Bettina?”

  He didn’t see the disgusted looks on their faces as they looked me up and down.

  I looked away from them before I did something stupid like roll my eyes or snap back. This was their territory, not mine. They had the home-field advantage. They were the pretty, popular girls. I was no one.

  Movement at the far end of the room caught my eye…and my gaze landed on a pair of ocean-colored eyes. Jackson. I licked my lips and swallowed nervously. With his attention on me, my body went haywire. My pulse skipped a few beats then kicked into overdrive. The hairs on my arms stood tall. My breath came short so my chest burned. My whole body was on fire; I just prayed I hadn’t turned bright red. I couldn’t force myself to look away. I was hypnotized.

  He tore his gaze away, and I sighe
d with relief. I looked to see what had caught his attention and found two guys standing beside him. They were both attractive. Very attractive. But that made sense. People that pretty tended to stick together. The one closest to him was shorter, probably my height, with chocolate brown hair and eyes so dark they looked black. The two of them looked rather put together in their slim-fitting dark blue jeans, tucked-in shirts, and brown boots.

  The other friend looked a little wild, but in a fun, rebellious kind of way. His skin was a soft mocha color…and covered in tattoos. He had on a white T-shirt that was so thin I could actually see the ink work covering him. His black jeans fit a little tighter than his friends’ did, but they had all kinds of rips in them.

  He raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. I jumped and looked up, only to find his hazel eyes watching me with a little amused sparkle. He winked and smiled.

  Busted. I bit my lip and waved back.

  “Here, Bettina,” Dean said as he held a red plastic cup in front of me.

  I frowned and looked down at it. “It’s empty? Or is this some Neverland kind of drink?”

  Dean threw his head back and laughed. Then he held up a jug with bright red liquid inside. “I don’t have to ask. I know the punch was spiked already. So I’m giving you some straight from the source.”

  I smiled and held my cup out while he poured my drink. “Thanks, Dean.” I took a sip, then another. It was actually delicious. A sweet cherry flavor with a hint of something else I couldn’t put my finger on.

  Unable to stop myself, I looked back over to where Jackson was just in time to see him scowl. He looked down at his watch, then said something to his two friends. They both nodded.

  “Hey, pretty girl.” A guy with a buzzed head jumped in front of me. He leaned against the kitchen counter and grinned. “Did it hurt?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Excuse me?”

  “Did it hurt…when you fell from Heaven?” He wagged his eyebrows and gave his friend a high five.

  I cocked my head to the side. “Did you just call me Satan?”

  He paled and stood up straight. “What? No. No, I just meant—”

  “Though I do love a good hex every once in a while,” I said with a smile.

  The guy’s eyes widened like saucers, then he took off out of sight. His friends cackled, then followed after him.

  I chuckled and shook my head. I’d stolen that line from Tegan a while back. Of course, it was much more intimidating coming from Tegan, a girl who wore pentagram charms on her neck and fingers. As opposed to me, a tall blonde who apparently hadn’t chosen a style yet.

  Someone squeezed my shoulder. “Oh my God, girl. That was epic.”

  I turned and found a petite brunette standing beside me. “Um, thanks?”

  She wagged her eyebrows. “My boys and I found a Ouija board upstairs. I’ve decided you’re playing with us. Come on.”

  She didn’t give me much of a choice as she dragged me out of the kitchen toward a staircase in the back of the house. I could’ve stopped her if I wanted to, but the truth was…I didn’t. Tegan refused to use a Ouija board. She said they were asking for trouble with things we couldn’t understand. I’d always agreed with her. But—and I wasn’t proud to admit it—I wanted to make a friend. Besides, Tegan and I had researched Ouija boards a lot—back when we were considering using one, when we were ten.

  I know the rules. I can do it once. If anything goes crazy, I’ll just end it.

  The hardwood stairs creaked behind me, and when I looked, I found two boys followed us. I might’ve been afraid, but the way they kept pausing to kiss on the way up told me I had nothing to fear from them. These must’ve been the girl’s friends. And it sounded like she also knew the rules.

  Always do it in even numbers of people.

  Always have both genders present.

  I cleared my throat as we kept climbing. “I’m Bettina, by the way.”

  The girl looked over her shoulder and smiled. “I’m Ashley. The lover boys behind you are Adam and Jon. Okay, here we are!” Ashley squealed and pushed open an old-looking wooden door, then slipped inside.

  I hurried up the last three steps into the room…then froze. My jaw dropped. The square room was maybe fifteen feet wide, and made entirely of windows. The ceiling was pointed, and one of those vintage lanterns hung from the top. A soft golden light flickered from within. I spun in a circle, surveying the room with a wide smile. It was spectacular. There were no chairs or real furniture, just a single trunk by the door and a wooden shelf that ran the entire perimeter of the room, about three feet up. There were white candles everywhere—lined up in rows along the shelf and on the ground. There had to be a hundred of them, at least. None of them were lit, but there was wax melting down the sides like someone used these often. The wicks were all black.

  The room smelled like the beach and felt airy and light. All of my anxiety since arriving at the party melted away. “I like it in here.”

  “Us too.” Adam—or maybe he was Jon—said with a wink.

  Ashley closed the trunk and turned toward us with a black board in her hands. “All right, let’s play!” She skipped over to the center of the room.

  As she set it on the ground, I noticed that someone had already drawn a pentagram in salt on the hardwood floors. “Wow, you guys know your Ouija board rules.”

  Ashley frowned. “What do you mean?”

  I sat down on my knees across from Ashley and pointed to the symbol drawn in salt. “The pentagram?”

  Ashley flushed then shrugged. “Actually, that was already there. I didn’t know that was something we had to do.”

  Adam and Jon sat on their knees on either side of me so the four of us made a circle around the board. Ashley set the triangular-shaped planchette in the middle, then put her middle and pointer fingers of both hands on the piece. Adam and Jon copied. I leaned forward and put my four fingers on it as well.

  Wait a second. Hold on one minute. The pentagram was already here? I glanced around at the candles again. Then at the Ouija board that was obviously already here. That meant someone else used this space for this purpose. Often.

  A cold chill ran down my spine. I no longer felt so sure about this. Ouija boards were dangerous. Maybe Ashley and her friends didn’t believe in this kind of stuff, and it didn’t scare them. But I did. Especially after Tegan’s birthday at The Gathering. Before that night, I only believed that maybe this stuff was real. After that night, I knew without a sliver of a doubt.

  I’d already seen spirits.

  I already knew how evil they could be.

  Images flashed through my mind. Massive bonfires sucking people in. Lightning striking and bodies dropping. Ghosts that glowed in the dark. Spirits flying and plucking people off the ground. I knew I was in Dean’s house, far away from that mountainside clearing…but my eyes saw only darkness and raging fire. I smelled burning wood. I heard the crackle of the flames and the screams.

  And then the planchette moved.

  Chapter Three

  BETTINA

  I shouldn’t be doing this.

  But it was too late. While I was remembering The Gathering, my new friends had started playing. They moved the planchette in a circle shape to cleanse the board.

  I shouldn’t be doing this.

  “We call upon the spirits around us,” Ashley chanted.

  Except there was nothing I could do about it now. One of the rules for Ouija boards was to not take your hands off the planchette until you said goodbye and closed the game. If everyone let go before that, the spirit could get trapped. If one person was left holding on, they could get possessed. I was stuck. I realized my error far too late. In my desperation to make a friend, I’d made a reckless decision I hoped I wasn’t going to pay for.

  “Spirit, are you here?” Ashley whispered.

  The triangular planchette moved to hover over the word YES.

  “Adam, maybe we shouldn’t be doing this,” Jon whined.

  The planc
hette moved again, this time it hit one letter at a time until it spelled S-T-A-Y.

  My stomach dropped. My body turned cold.

  Adam leaned back. “I don’t like this. I change my mind—”

  “DON’T LET GO!” I shouted and he froze. They all turned wide gazes at me. “No one lets go.”

  “She’s right,” Ashley whispered. “We have to tell the spirit to go away then say goodbye—”

  The planchette moved again, spelling T-A-L-K-T-O-M-E.

  I licked my lips. “Who are you?”

  M-A-X-M-I-L-L-E-R.

  “Max Miller?” Adam cried. “No, no, no, no, no.”

  YES.

  My heart was pounding so hard it sounded like drums in my ears. Max Miller went to school with us—well, he used to. He died in a horrific car accident back in the spring.

  “Max, how did you die?” Ashley whispered.

  C-A-R-C-R-A-S-H.

  The four of us exchanged nervous glances. I knew for a fact I wasn’t moving the planchette. And judging by the goose bumps on Adam’s arms, and the way Jon’s hands trembled, they weren’t moving it either.

  “Bettina, tell me you’re moving this thing,” Ashley whispered. “Tell me you are, because I’m not. I won’t be mad.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not moving it.”

  I-A-M.

  “What do we do?” Ashley cried.

  My first thought was to end this, send Max’s spirit away and go back to the party. Except now that we had him here, it felt wrong to just dismiss him so quickly.

  I gnawed on my bottom lip, then asked the first thing I thought of. “Max, is there something you want to tell us?”