Wicked Academy 3: Dirty Little Secrets

by Nissa Leder

A servant brings the sacrifice to me, then exits the stage.

  Magic holds the woman in place. Just as it keeps her mouth from speaking, she cannot move. Cannot scream. Cannot plead for her life. As much as I’d enjoy her graveling, nothing will interfere with my focus.

  I brush strands of black hair out of her face and tuck them behind her ears. She is an attractive woman, with porcelain skin and bright eyes. Almost like Snow White.

  Only this time, there is no poisonous apple. And no white knight to wake her with a kiss.

  I will her to look at me, and she does.

  “So lovely.” I reach out and cup her cheek into my palm.

  She wants to flinch, but she doesn’t have the strength to fight the spell. Not after three days with no food and little water.

  My other hand meets her other cheek, her life pulsing beneath her skin.

  “Exbibo,” I say, starting the chant.

  “Exbibo,” my servants repeat, combining their magic for the spell.

  The luster of her skin fades. Soon, the smoothness shifts into wrinkles as her dark hair turns gray. Crow’s feet spread from her eyes, deeper and deeper until she’s nearly unrecognizable.

  The longer the chant lasts, the more of the life that is sucked from her. When she hunches over, her bones weakened, I pull out the knife from inside my sleeve.

  A quick swipe is all it takes.

  Blood gushes from her jugular as her now bony fingers move toward her throat. She drops to her knees into the puddle of red and, two breaths later, falls to the ground, dead.

  The crowd roars as I turn to them.

  “Your allegiance will bring you great reward,” I say, my voice lighter than before.

  As cheers reverberate around me, I raise my hand.

  The sagging, frail skin is gone, smooth, pink skin in its place.

  All I have done has finally paid off.

  “Wren,” a voice calls in the distance.

  My body shakes, pulling me from the darkness.

  “Wren, what happened?” The voice is closer now, and familiar. “C’mon. Sit up.” A hand cups my head and lifts it onto a lap.

  I blink, shifting between darkness and bright gray. Then a face comes into view. Zane’s face.

  It takes me a minute to sort out my confusion, but then everything starts to come back to me.

  I’d come to the courtyard to play in the snow, and then a vision took over.

  This is the first time seeing one caused me to black out.

  At first, my brain is fuzzy, but then the events of the vision shift into place. I was in my grandma’s mind again, and she was somewhere with a lot of people.

  And there was a woman. And, oh, god. The woman aged fifty years in a matter of seconds until my grandma slit her throat. No hesitation. No mercy. Just blood and death.

  “Can you stand up? We need to get you to the Healing wing,” Zane says.

  “No,” I say. “I can’t.” My body is heavy, but I manage to pull myself into a seated position. My clothes are wet from the snow on the ground, but that hardly seems important right now. “Why are you here?” I scan the empty courtyard, thankful no one else saw me pass out.

  “I saw the snow. I knew you’d come out here.” He pushes himself from the ground and reaches out a hand. “Now let’s get you checked out.”

  “I can’t…” I search my brain for an excuse.

  “Wren.” Zane dips his chin and stares at me. “It’s clear something is wrong or I wouldn’t have found you passed out on the ground.”

  There’s no way he’s going to just let me go back inside like this was no big deal. “Help me to my room, and I’ll explain.” When he doesn’t answer, I add, “Please trust me.”

  “Fine.”

  When I’m sitting on my bed and he’s pulled up my computer chair to face me, I start, “Do you remember when we used the key I found and went into the forest?”

  “Of course. How could I forget?” He shudders, the color draining from his face.

  “Well, I was able to call off the creature and that’s how we escaped. But when our gazes met, something happened.” I recall the strange way its eyes turned pink and how off I felt right away. “Since then, things have been happening to me. Strange things.”

  “Like?”

  Every person I tell is another risk. Another person who has to keep my secret or I might get kicked out of Wicklow and who knows what else. But if I don’t tell Zane, then it means I don’t trust him. And I do.

  “First my emotions seemed off. Then I had changes in my vision, almost like I stuck in pink-hue contacts. But the weirdest thing of all was when I dreamed of my grandma. A grandma who Lucas and my dad swear is dead.”

  Zane stares at me, mouth open as if he isn’t sure if I’m playing some absurd prank on him.

  “But she isn’t dead. And I met her. And now, sometimes, I find myself in her mind. Almost like I am her.” Flashes of blood and chants and exhilaration pulsate through me as I tell Zane about my meeting with her and some of the visions I’ve seen. I leave out seeing her with Bianca’s dad and this last vision I just had.

  “Have you told your grandpa or your parents? Or been seen by a Healer? Maybe there’s an easy way to fix you.”

  “Callum did some research, and there is no easy cure.”

  “Callum knows?” His lips press into a line.

  “He found me during an episode, too,” I say. “And he found an herb that helps with the weird symptoms. But I’m out now. And I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  My choices are running low. Soon, I might have to decide who to tell. If I go to the Healers, they’re sure to go to Dean Waters. Lucas has the most pull and access to information and, hopefully, poppy berry. But he’s also got the most to lose if word of my affliction gets out, whatever it is.

  “Well, now I can help you too. Two of us watching over you is better than one, right?” He playfully kicks my foot.

  Two guys who I’ve slept with. Who both have feelings of some sort for me. And who are friends. How could it be awkward?

  With no more tea to rely on, I turn my focus to meditation.

  If it can help Buddhist monks survive without sex, surely it can help me block out mysterious visions, right?

  I wake up an hour early every day to sit on the ground, close my eyes, and breathe in and out as I connect to my magic. I’m not great at it. At all. But every day, I’m distracted less, and so far, vision free.

  In Combat class Thursday, I partner with Zane to work on our fitness. Since our groups are an odd number, someone in the group always has to be paired with someone from another group. And now that Zane and I are officially friends again, it was an obvious offer for me to make.

  Thornburn splits us into two groups and we alternate doing an exercise while our partner watches.

  I kneel next to Zane while he does push-ups. “Look at you go,” I tease.

  His arms bend as his nose touches the ground on every rep, way better than I looked a minute ago. Although my form isn’t as impressive as his, this class is starting to make real changes in my body.

  Great genes have kept me lean, confident in my natural curves. But now I’m strong, or at least stronger than I’ve ever been. When I flex, there’s actually a bicep muscle to feel. My upper body is still small, but I’ve had to order new jeans because my thighs have gained an inch of muscle, and a nice sexy definition line.

  Thornburn blows the whistle. “Jumping jacks. Group A. Go.”

  I start hopping my feet in and out.

  Zane pushes himself from the ground and stands. “If only you weren’t wearing a bra.”

  “Very funny,” I say, a little winded.

  “How have you been feeling lately?” A sudden serious expression shifts his face.

  “Good.”

  “No more visions?”

  I shake my head. “Nope.” I’m not sure I can get out more than one-word answers.

  Finally, Thornburn blows the whistle and I stop, breathing
hard.

  He blows it again. “Group B.”

  Zane starts his jumping.

  “How are things for you?” I ask. “Hanging out with Callum much?”

  “We shot some hoops yesterday,” Zane says, not winded at all. Jerk.

  Since sleeping together, I’ve barely seen Callum outside of classes. He’s sent me a few texts checking in, but not once has he asked to hang out. I’m not sure what I should think about that.

  “Cool,” I say, not wanting to seem weird about Callum to Zane. No need to raise any suspicions.

  After sit-ups, lunges down and back the length of the gym, and sprints, Combat is finally over. Everyone hurries to the locker room showers so they don’t miss out on the best choices at lunch.

  Since quitting the tea, I’ve had almost no hunger. So instead of lunch, I go to my room and shower there, allowing myself to relax in the hot water and steam.

  Nice and clean, I head to Incantations.

  I’m there five minutes early, so I expect the classroom to be empty. But Olivia is sitting at a desk, typing something on her phone. When I step into the room, she glances at me with watery eyes.

  She looks away and sniffs, then wipes her face with the back of her sleeve.

  “Everything okay?” I ask, even though a part of me says to pretend I don’t care.

  “You were right.” She drops her phone onto the desk with a thud and crosses her arms. “Jake is a jerk.”

  As much as I feel entitled to say “I told you so,” I don’t. “What happened?” I sit next to her.

  “He cheated on me last weekend with one of the other members of The Mystics.” She wipes her eyes again. “And then had the nerve to kick me out as if I did something wrong by calling him out on it.”

  “I’m so sorry.” One benefit of never having been in a real relationship is never having to deal with the drama that comes with it, like getting cheated on by some ass who can’t keep his dick to himself.

  “I didn’t even like the stupid group. It was such a waste of time and, for what, brotherhood? Something they groan on and on about. Clearly, it’s a sexist tradition.” She exhales a huff. “I should have known getting involved in a group that think black robes are fashionable would only end in regret.”

  For the first time in a while, I’m talking to the girl I met on the boat. “So, you’re officially over?”

  “Completely. I was supposed to go to his house for Thanksgiving, but that’s obviously not happening now. Guess I’ll stay here and binge watch old episodes of Full House or something.”

  “You can come hang out at my house,” I say. “My parents might be around for Thanksgiving dinner, but they’ll probably be gone the rest of my trip home.”

  Suddenly, horror fills Olivia’s face as tears pool in her eyes. “I am such an awful person. The way I treated you at the bonfire? Because Jake said that being friends with outsiders was frowned upon. I am the worst friend on the planet. No. In the universe. Nope, still not enough. In the fucking galaxy.”

  I can’t help but giggle, which earns a confused look from Olivia. “I’m glad to see the old dramatic Olivia is back.”

  “You don’t hate me?”

  “I could never hate you. Now, the Jake-obsessed shell of you that was a complete bitch? I’m not her fan. But if you promise to never turn into her again, then we’ll pretend the bonfire incident never happened.”

  She practically falls over to hug me. “If that girl ever shows her face again, I give you full permission to slug her as hard as you can.”

  I raise my arm and flex my bicep. “You sure? I’m getting pretty strong from all the pushups Thronburn makes us do.”

  Van and Natalia enter the room, and when Natalia sees us, she smiles. “Are you two bitches finally friends again?”

  Olivia nods. “I’ve finally come to my senses.”

  As much as Olivia hurt me, I don’t have it in my heart to be mad anymore. Now that I have no more poppy berry and no idea what’s going to happen to me, I need all the friends I can get.

  Eighteen

  I don’t know if it’s the meditation or sheer luck, but since the last one, the visions have stayed away.

  Even the Professors are too ready for Thanksgiving break to want to focus on Friday, so the day ends up being a chatter fest.

  Then, an hour after the last class of the day is over, those of us heading back to the mainland are on the boat back to New York.

  Olivia and I hang out with Elaine, Zane, and Callum, who’s spending the week with Zane. I’m the only one who knows it’s either that or staying at Wicklow, since the family he’s mentioned as little as possible doesn’t really exist.

  I’m not sure when it happened, but last week Elaine finally admitted to me that she and Beck broke up. She didn’t seem happy about it, but she also didn’t seem distraught. Not that that means much of anything. If anyone is a master at hiding her feelings, it’s Elaine. She managed to keep her crush on Zane hidden from me for years.

  She hasn’t said much about her relationship since the night of the Carmichael party, and I’ve barely seen Beck at all. Which should make for an interesting week back at home now that he won’t be caught up in all the Mystic crap.

  After the boat docks, Olivia and I say goodbye to Elaine, Zane, and Callum and find Beck already waiting for us at the car. He’s wearing his grumpy-cat face, so I spend the car ride talking to Olivia and ignoring him. Thankfully, he takes the front seat making it almost like he isn’t there.

  Since my brother’s in the car, we keep the conversation to our classes and general academy news. Beck hasn’t said a word and Olivia hasn’t glanced at him once. Apparently, him being a member and she an ex-member of the Mystics has created some bad blood.

  Which isn’t like my brother at all. He used to be the mediator, the type of person who constantly sees both sides to a situation to the point of annoyance. I’d been so caught up on accusing Olivia of changing for the stupid society that I didn’t even notice the shift in Beck.

  Granted, it’s hard to notice anything about someone you never see.

  When we’re nearly to the house, I break the silence aimed at Beck. “Have you heard from Lucas lately?”

  He turns around. “Grandpa has been busy with his campaign. Now that he has a competitor, he’s going to be more involved.”

  “Wouldn’t it be weird if he didn’t have anyone going against him?” I’ve never paid much attention to the Ordinary elections, but the idea that someone would be supported by every one seems strange.

  “Grandpa has done an excellent job at keeping the dark Sorcerers from infiltrating society. Why wouldn’t people want to re-elect him?”

  “I’m not saying he shouldn’t be re-elected. But just handed another term? That sounds sketchy.”

  And the fact that my class is part of an experiment to double some Sorcerers magic to better fight the dark Sorcerers doesn’t give me much confidence that dark magic is under control, but I don’t dare mention that to Beck. He basically worships Lucas, and I’m not going to start Thanksgiving break off with a fight.

  “Having a competitor is one thing, but the way Pruit called out the elite families was low,” Beck adds, and I let it be the last of the conversation.

  When we’re back in our house, no one is home. Shocker. So, Beck heads to his room to brood or whatever it is he plans to spend the break doing, and Olivia and I go to my room.

  “We have three guest rooms,” I say.

  “Would it be weird if I stay in with you?” Olivia shifts the bag she packed from her right hand to her left. “We could be temporary roomies.”

  “With late-night girl-talk chats?”

  She nods. “Duh!”

  After she drops her bag on my bed, I give her a tour of the house. I can sense she’s holding in her awe, not wanting to seem weird. But from what she’s told me, her family lives much more modestly, so our gigantic house with all its fancy artwork and furniture must be a lot to take in. Most friends I’v
e had over are most impressed with the projector system in our theater room, but Olivia falls in love-at-first-sight with the grand piano in the formal living room.

  “This is a Steinway.” She looks at me like I should know what that means.

  I’ve never played the piano. Mostly because Mom offered to buy me lessons in third grade which made it the last thing I wanted to do. “Cool?”

  “They’re top of the line. This thing had to cost—” she hesitates, “—a lot.”

  “Mom doesn’t do cheap.” Which sounds pretty stuck-up, now that I’ve said it aloud.

  “I hope this isn’t too nosy, but how does your family have so much money?” Olivia sits on the bench and hovers her fingers over the keys.

  “Um, I’m not sure.” It’s not something I’ve ever thought much about. We’ve just always been rich. “Aren’t Protectors paid well?”

  “I mean, a lot depends on rank, but none of them should make enough for this.” She presses her fingers down and grins as the piano releases a melodic sound. Her fingers move up and down the keys, as she plays a song I don’t recognize. It’s a classic piece, so maybe Beethoven? That’s about as far as my piano knowledge goes.

  I leave Olivia alone with her new love and head back to my room to grab my cell. I have a text from both Zane and Callum checking in. I let them know so far things are fine and ask what they’re up to tonight.

  Zane’s parents are Protectors, too, and although I’m not sure they’re quite as wealthy as my parents, they clearly aren’t struggling. How have I never asked myself about stuff like this before?

  My parents hid magic from me for eighteen years.

  What else have they been hiding?

  Nineteen

  Spending a whole week away from school with Olivia is exactly what we both needed. I’d been a little worried that things might be awkward after spending so long not talking, but we fall right back into our friendship.

  Olivia spends the mornings at the piano, which she’s named Ambrosius, while I do my morning meditation. I’m pleasantly surprised that it seems to actually be working. I haven’t had even a flicker of vision since seeing my grandma hold the sacrifice.