Wicked Academy 3: Dirty Little Secrets

by Nissa Leder

  Neither Beck or I decided to be on air with Lucas, but we both agreed to wait on the side of the stage, just out of camera reach.

  Callum will watch the speech from backstage, then come out once the party portion of the evening begins.

  “Thank you both for attending,” Lucas tells us as an assistant straightens his tie for him. “Your support means everything.”

  Sometimes, I don’t believe what he says. At times, it all sounds too rehearsed. And I can’t help but wonder the real reasons he’s been so adamant to be a part of our lives.

  A man wearing a headset comes and informs Lucas it’s time for him to take the stage.

  Lucas’s assistant escorts us to our spots just as he begins his speech. I don’t recognize her, making me wonder if she’s new.

  “The last ten years have been my greatest honor,” he says. “Serving the American Sorcery world is nothing short of a privilege, and one I’ve taken very seriously. The safety of our people is my biggest priority, and I hope to continue to earn your confidence for the next ten years in keeping our world a bright, safe place for all.”

  Beck still hasn’t talked to me since our fight. I’ve been ignoring him too, but I can’t help but ask him, “Do you think he cares as much as he claims to?”

  My brother gives me a side-eye glare. “This isn’t the place to be asking me that.”

  I roll my eyes. “It’s a valid question, not blasphemy.”

  “I don’t know,” he says in a voice so low it takes me a second to comprehend his words.

  I’m surprised. I thought for sure Beck would have nothing but overwhelming support for our grandfather, as he last called him.

  A few minutes later, Lucas’s speech is over. His assistant invites everyone to stay for the remainder of the night, which she promises will be full of free refreshments and dancing.

  Callum comes out from behind the side stage curtain and pulls me to the dance floor as the jazz band begins playing. Only two other couples had the same idea, so for now, we have plenty of space to dance.

  “I wonder if your grandpa’s speech wooed the Sorcery people like he wants.” Callum leads me to the saxophone solo. He’s almost as good at dancing as he is in bed.

  I make sure no one is close to us before whispering, “It seemed kind of generic to me.”

  “He isn’t wrong that the last ten years have been relatively safe as far as Sorcery history goes. I’m just not sure he convinced me that he’s the reason.”

  “What do you mean?” I hang on tight as he spins us.

  “When I was a kid living in the orphanage, I remember sneaking into the TV room and watching the news every once in a while. And there were always clips of dark Sorcerer attacks. But since your grandfather took office, things have died down. Which looks good for him, of course. There just hasn’t been a lot of public information on how he’s been handling things.”

  Our conversation fizzles as the dance floor fills up. Eventually, it’s too crowded, so we each grab glasses of wine. As we sip on them, I watch Lucas interact with people. Three security guards follow him wherever he goes as he shakes hands and spends approximately one minute chatting to each person.

  Just enough time to make someone feel honored, but not long enough to actually say anything meaningful. Very political.

  A loud bang startles me as I drink the last bit of wine in my glass.

  Callum steps toward me and places his hand on my back.

  The first scream comes from somewhere to our right. Then more across the room.

  Black orbs float into the air all around the ceiling and burst into smoke bombs, sending more panicked shrieks echoing through the room.

  “What’s happening?” I ask Callum.

  I search for Beck, desperate to get closer to him and make sure he’s all right, but I don’t see him. My eyes lock on Lucas as he holds his stomach. Something strikes him in the shoulder, sending him back onto the ground. His security guards circle around him as shields of ice form in front of them and fireballs appear in their hands.

  Everyone rushes toward the door as more cracking-sounds explode everywhere.

  My pulse races faster than it ever has, the thudding of my heart pounding in my ears.

  Callum places a hand on my shoulder and guides me down to the ground. “We need to get out of here.”

  People push past us like animals fleeing a slaughterhouse. Too many people are trying to squeeze through the front doors, and soon the crowd is barely moving.

  “There’s an exit on the other end of the stage.” Callum grips my hand tightly, and we move around the outside of the horde.

  Every time something booms, I flinch. But no matter what, we keep moving.

  Soon, we’re up the side of the stage and push through the curtain where two hooded figures stare at us.

  One throws shards of ice at our faces.

  Callum redirects them around us and sends his illusion snake slithering toward him.

  As the other person forms a fireball in his palm, I pull from my magic and try to immobilize him.

  He steps to the side with a laugh and throws the fireball at Callum.

  Callum defends the attack, but then something jumps on him from behind, plowing him to the ground.

  Confusion punches me as I turn to see another hooded figure approaching as the Wendigo pins Callum.

  A searing pain shoots through my temples. I grab my head as the world shifts to a pink hue around me. I know I need to protect myself, but the ache in my head is too strong. I can’t focus.

  “Stop,” a woman says. “Bring them with us.”

  No matter how hard I try, I can’t escape the agony in my head.

  As arms lift me, I succumb to the pain.

  Twenty-Five

  A dull throbbing ache shoots out from my temples and wraps around my forehead.

  Memories flicker as I drift in and out of consciousness.

  Lucas giving a speech.

  Dancing with Callum to jazz.

  Darkness.

  Lucas mingling with the crowd.

  Loud booms and screams.

  Darkness.

  A rush of people trampling on another.

  Sneaking around to the back.

  Darkness.

  Hooded figures.

  Callum falling to the ground, the Wendigo hunching over him.

  Darkness.

  Pain splintering through my head.

  A familiar voice.

  When I finally muster enough energy to open my eyes, the first thing I see is the transparent pink canopy hanging above. I push myself up and scan my surroundings.

  I’m in a four-poster bed in a medium-sized bedroom I don’t recognize. Floral wallpaper covers half the walls above white wainscoting. An old-fashioned dresser sits underneath a large window.

  I hurry to look outside for a clue to where I’m at. The house sits in the middle of an open field surrounded by forest. Someone brought me here. But who? And why?

  I ignore the pounding in my head and sprint to the door. I jerk on the handle, but it won’t budge.

  “It’s spelled,” a tired voice says.

  When I see Callum slumped on the floor in the corner, my heart drops too fast, making me woozy.

  Using the wall as support, I go to him.“What happened?”

  “The Wendigo attacked me from behind. You passed out as your grandmother called it off of me.”

  Relief spreads through my muscles as I lean against the wall and lower myself next to him. But when I look at him again, I see the hole in his pants and the missing chunk of skin underneath.

  He notices my gaze. “She called it off, but not before it had already bitten me.” Sweat pools on his too-pale face. He’s always had a light skin tone, but the usual pink undertone has turned gray. “We don’t have long. It’s venom is already coursing through me.”

  We don’t have long…I don’t understand.

  Then a burning whip of realization strikes me. He’s dying.

&n
bsp; He reaches out and puts his clammy hand over mine. “Wren, I want you to know how much I…”

  I pull away. “No. You don’t give up.” I push my unsteady legs up and pound on the door.

  After a few minutes of banging, someone finally opens it.

  My grandma steps inside, dressed in a long, Victorian black dress. “You’ve awoken.” She looks even younger than she did in the picture I saw of her in The Spell. A peachy hue covers her cheeks, and she looks so much more alive than the last time I saw her.

  “Help him,” I demand, unable to stop the break in my voice.

  She peers at him, his eyes now closed as he leans against the chair to his side. “Oh, yes. He’s fading fast, isn’t he?”

  “Please.” As much as I want to stay strong and hide my desperation, I can’t. I am desperate. He cannot die. Not here. Not like this.

  I glance at him, clinging to the small movement of his chest as he breathes in and out, the only sign he’s still alive.

  “I saw you heal the Wendigo. I know you can.” There’s no point in hiding my access to her visions. She has me now and already knows I’ve been in her head. If she’s going to kill me, then so be it. My only hope now is that she’ll appreciate my ability to keep my mouth shut. “I saw you talk to Bianca’s father. And I saw you in Lucas’s house. And I saw you drain the life from the woman then kill her.”

  She briefly looks away from me, but I don’t miss the slight wince she gives at his name. “How is giving me a reason to never let you leave going to help your friend?”

  “I haven’t told anyone.” I meet her gaze and hold it. This won’t work if she doesn’t believe me. “You owe me.”

  “I owe you?” Her mouth curves. “I was right that we’re similar. You’re just as bold as I am.” She steps toward the four-poster bed and runs her hand down one of its pillars. “I owe you nothing, but what would you be willing to give to save him?”

  I stare at Callum, waiting for him to sit up and make me swear not to agree to anything. But he doesn’t. Because if I don’t convince her to help him, he will die.

  I’m about to say I’ll give whatever she wants, but Callum’s voice plays in my head, reminding me to be careful. Agreeing to do something without knowing the terms is like showing everyone the hand I was dealt at a poker game before they bid.

  “What will it take to save him?” I tip my chin up and straighten my posture.

  “Three favors.”

  She isn’t going to tell me what they are, and there isn’t much more time to waste. “One favor.”

  “Two favors, to be given to you in the future.”

  With one more look at a nearly-lifeless Callum, I nod. “Fine.”

  “An Everlasting Oath will seal the deal.” She reaches out her right arm and waits for me to take her hand. When I do, she begins. “I, Charlotte Jacobsen, vow to heal your friend in this room for the promise of two favors I request from you.”

  We studied Everlasting Oaths in Magical History. They’re binding agreements that cannot be undone once made. She could ask me to slice my own neck, and if I refuse, the oath will poison my heart. Professor Simmons urged us never to make one, as the consequences of not following through are literally deadly, but if I don’t make one now, then Callum dies.

  “I, Wren Jacobsen, promise to give two favors in exchange for the protection of my friend, Callum’s, life.”

  Our hands glow violet as a chill rushes through me like I’ve been struck by an icy wind after stepping out from the warmth of a fire. When the purple radiance disappears, I pull my hand away. “Now, save him.”

  Nausea vibrates through me as I wait.

  My grandma dips down and places her hand over Callum’s heart as she mumbles words I don’t recognize. Soon, the pinkness of his skin returns, and his limbs twitch. Then, his body goes limp.

  “What did you do?” Rage fumes through me and I wish I could slice a blade across her throat like she did to that woman.

  “Relax, child. He is just resting. We need to go speak before he wakes.” She returns to me and runs a finger down my face. “You’re very brave.”

  “There’s no need to flatter me. I’ve already agreed to what you wanted.”

  “When you’re at Wicklow, you will visit me one Saturday a month, from dawn until dusk.”

  “Is that your first favor?” I ask.

  “If you expect me to trust you with everything you now know, then you will prove to me that you’re trustworthy.” She twirls a strand of my hair. “That and our agreement included nothing of you two returning to Wicklow. Consider this an unofficial bargain.”

  Would she really keep us here? I don’t need to think hard to know the answer. If I don’t give her what she wants, she definitely won’t let us go back to the academy.

  The idea of spending one whole day with her freaks me out enough, but once a month is so much worse. “If I agree, you’ll let us both leave, unharmed?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then, okay.”

  Seeming pleased with everything I’ve just given her, she wakes Callum up.

  He’s still weak from the effects of the creature’s venom, but with my help, he’s able to stand.

  My grandma swirls her hand in a circular motion. What starts out as a small black dot grows bigger and bigger until a portal appears. Only this one is completely black, with no view of what’s on the other side.

  With Callum’s arm slung around my shoulder, we move toward the portal.

  She steps in front of us. “I’m afraid we must make one more Everlasting Oath before you can leave.”

  When he registers what she’s said, Callum frowns at me, the word more a giveaway that this isn’t the first one I’ve made.

  I don’t care if he’s upset at me. I’m just thankful he’s here to be mad.

  After we each grip one of her hands and promise never to reveal anything we know about her to anyone, she lets us hobble through the portal.

  Twenty-Six

  By the time we’re back, everyone has cleared out.

  Callum and I walk as far as we can before his energy is too low to go any further, then I call the first person I think of to pick us up.

  Forty-five minutes later, Zane pulls up in the same silver sports car he borrowed when we went on a date. He gets out of the car and we both help Callum into the back seat.

  “What happened?” he asks.

  “There was an attack,” I say. I have to choose my words carefully. The Everlasting Oath keeps me from mentioning my grandma’s involvement, but as long as I keep things vague, I should be okay.

  When we’re both buckled up in the front seat, Zane pulls the car out into the road. “Where is everyone else?”

  “We hid,” I quickly lie. “Until we knew it was safe to leave.”

  He glances over his shoulder. “What happened to him?”

  I peek at Callum, who’s already asleep, his head propped against the window. On our walk, he’d said the burning in his veins from the venom was gone, but he still felt weak.

  “He got hit with a fireball from one of the dark Sorcerers who attacked.” Another lie slips off my tongue too easily.

  I’d left my phone in my room, so I have no idea if anyone is trying to get ahold of me.

  “Thanks for coming to get us,” I say. “Are we okay?” It’s probably a cheap time to ask him, but I can’t stand the way things have been.

  “I wish you’d both have just told me.” His hands rest on the wheel as his eyes focus on the road. “You’ve never hidden a fling from me before.”

  I want to tell him this isn’t a fling, but that will only drive the knife in deeper. And after today, I’m not sure where Callum and I stand. Seeing him so near death brought out a fear in me I didn’t know was possible. And I’m not sure I’m ready to tie myself any tighter to anyone right now.

  Because as much as I don’t want to admit it, being in my life right now is dangerous to everyone.

  When we get back to Wicklow, Za
ne drops Callum and me off just outside the courtyard gate. The small rest Callum took boosted his energy just enough for me to walk him to his room. I mention seeing a Healer, but he says that it will raise too many questions.

  After I help him into bed, he takes my hand. “Your grandma mentioned one more Everlasting Oath. What did you agree to for her to heal me?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about,” I say, not wanting to add any more stress.

  “Tell me.”

  “Two favors.”

  His eyes narrow. “What kind of favors?”

  “The kind that saved you.” I pull my hand from his long enough to walk around to the other side of the bed and curl next to him until he’s fast asleep.

  I slip out of bed, careful not to wake him, and head back to my room. As I’m climbing the stairs, I realize I don’t know if Beck is okay.

  Panic rises up my throat, as I quicken my pace until I’m knocking on his door.

  When he answers, I exhale the fear that something bad happened to him. He’s still in his suit, shirt untucked, but he seems to be fine.

  “You’re okay.” I lean in and wrap my hands around him.

  He hugs me back, bursting into sobs.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, still holding him tightly, afraid he’s more injured than I first thought.

  “Grandpa is…” his cries intensify, “dead.”

  Shock vibrates through me, blocking out all sound. I remember seeing him fall backward, but then his guards surrounded him. I figured he was injured, but that they’d protect him. They were supposed to keep him safe.

  “They weren’t supposed to kill him,” Beck manages to get out.

  I step back, yanking myself from Beck’s arms. “What do you mean they weren’t supposed to kill him?”

  Tears pour from his eyes, falling down his cheeks and onto his jacket. “I wanted to back out, but they wouldn’t let me. They threatened to hurt Elaine.”

  “Who are they?” Did our grandma reach out to Beck, too? Was she using him?

  “The Mystics.” His voice is low and rough from too much sobbing. “The only reason I got an invite was so they could use me. I messed up, Wren. So badly.”