Goddess Academy: The Complete Reverse Harem Collection

by Clara Hartley

  “Agree with what?” someone else said.

  My eyes snapped to the door. Devon had entered, not making a sound. I jolted at his sudden intrusion. How did he move so quietly? That had to be a crime. He could have someone killed by being so good at scaring people. Devon swept his fringe of brown hair away from his striking yellow eyes and tipped his chin up at me. “Are you talking about me behind my back?”

  I rolled my eyes. “The world doesn’t revolve around you. We’re just going on about what to do with the whole morgue situation. I don’t think it’s right.”

  “Not right? I wonder what gave that away?”

  “Not a clue. It’s probably because it’s a straight-up genocide.”

  “Interesting.” Devon put his hands in his pockets, completely contradicting his muttered word with his aloof gesture. I was short of telling him to see his way out. He had no need to intrude if he wanted to leave. Tucked between his teeth was a golden straw, which he chewed at. It emphasized his bored and I’m Not Even Sure Why I’m Here look.

  Hansel dragged me closer to him again. After what we’d experienced last night, he seemed to want to stick around. I wouldn’t complain about that. “Maybe Cara should skip class today. It’s just potions theory, and she went through a lot the day before. Do you want to sleep in?” He was spoiling me way too much. He should stop, but I enjoyed the attention so thoroughly that it was difficult to ask him to.

  I shook my head. Last night’s shuteye had left me well rested. I was about to decline when Devon cut in: “So she can be lowest of the low? After the disaster last lesson, Cara doesn’t have a choice. I know you want to baby her and you think it’s your duty and all, but we have to be realistic about this. I don’t want to be sent to a concentration camp.” Devon plucked the straw from his mouth and threw it into the trash can next to him. His eyes flicked to the clock that was situated right above my bed. “You’re almost late. Get the hell up.”

  I scowled at him. “Can’t you phrase things more nicely?” I pushed myself away from Hansel and into a seating position and narrowed my eyes at Devon. “Besides, I want to talk about our plan of action. What are we going to do with our findings? Pretend like we never saw it and move on with life?”

  “That is an option.”

  “The immoral one.”

  “Saves time.”

  I flicked my eyes to the wand on my bedside table. I was tempted to make Devon fall in love with the houseplant in the corner of the room. That’d be an interesting sight. I wondered how he’d take to knowing that he’d humped a plant and declared it the love of his life. I started reaching for my wand, but Hansel sat up so he was closer to eye level with me, and he blocked me. I harrumphed and resigned myself to not being a bitch. Maybe next time.

  Devon continued, “We could just ask Agness about why she’s doing all this.”

  “Great idea,” I said, ignoring the way Devon’s gaze fell on my boobs. I slept without a bra—a fact that Hansel had taken advantage of too much, made clear by my aching mounds—and my nipples peeked out from under the thin fabric of my tank top. “Why don’t we just walk up to the crazy overseer and ask her, ‘Hey, why are hiding piles of dead bodies behind some shrubs? Care to explain?’ You confront her about it first and tell me how it goes.”

  Devon rolled his eyes. “I’m sure Agness has her reasons. She’s the goddess of flora. Which means that she’s inclined to nurture. I knew her growing up, and she’s always had the best interests of her students and the world itself in mind. She cares for things.”

  “She hates me.”

  “That’s because you’re the devil.” He darted his gaze away, and I thought I saw him mouth, “So fucking tempting,” to a wall, but I couldn’t be sure.

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  Hansel rested his hand on the small of my back. Could he see the red on my face? I could feel myself fuming and wouldn’t be surprised if my cheeks had turned into a cherry color.

  “Fine,” Devon said. “It’s probably a dumb idea, but I’m still trying to accept the fact that Agness is some scary, murderous witch. She’s always been so kind.” He leaned against the wall and tensed his jaw. “We could always pay a visit to my father.”

  “What’s your father got to do with anything?” I asked.

  “He’s her vassal, and he trusts me. He might spill some things that are useful, but I doubt he’d give me all the information we need. Still, it’s a good place to start. Better that than nothing at all.”

  I nodded, considering his suggestion. It sounded like it might work, but since we were grasping aimlessly for a way to solve this monumental mystery, anything sounded good. “We’re not allowed to leave the Sanctuary?”

  Devon pressed his lips together. “I have a way out, but I’m not sure whether I want to show you. It’s secret, and if word of its existence goes around, I won’t have it anymore.”

  “It’s for Cara,” Hansel said, pressing his hand against my back with more pressure.

  “I’m not sure that’s much motivation,” Devon replied.

  I glowered at him. “How about saving dozens of girls from a terrible death? Is that enough motivation for you?”

  “Might be a better reason.” He didn’t sound very convinced, however, or maybe that was just Devon being apathetic about everything. What caused him to be like this?

  I opened my mouth, wanting to say something else, but the bell chimed. Its chipper tune rang like a judgment hammering down on my grades. With it, I knew that I was late.

  Damn.

  “Great,” I said. “I should head off to potions theory, huh?”

  “Take the day off,” Hansel said.

  “Stop babying her,” Devon said. “Hurry up and finish this school day. Get good scores so I won’t be sent to a camp, and then I’ll bring you to my father’s. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” He paused. “Just try to not stay at the bottom of your class.”

  Somebody at the doorway moaned. I redirected my attention there and saw Liam stumbling from the hallway. An adorable Fenrir—the mythical wolf who had, for some reason, decided to become Liam’s pet—wouldn’t stop clawing at Liam’s pants. “Hey, Cara, you’re late for class.” I doubted he was here to remind me about my tardiness. Proving me right, he also said, “And can you use your magic love powers to get this thing off me?”

  Chapter Two

  Professor Lochlan needed a fashion upgrade. He still wore that stupid hat with the big flower on it. It barely matched the suit he wore, which was topped with a red bow that circled a crumpled collar. That hat belonged in a garden or a theme park, not a class. Then again, this school also had half-man, half-animal creatures with fur sticking out from all over.

  Was I in a dream? I still hadn’t been convinced otherwise. Maybe I was stuck in one of those funky dreams that seemed to last for an eternity. I should pinch myself at random intervals to see if I’d wake up, but I didn’t like pain, and it seemed pointless after being stuck in here for so long.

  I tapped my pen on my desk and looked at the scoreboard Professor Lochlan had placed out front. The board was magical, and each character on it glowed in sparkling, colorful threads. I’d like the scoreboard more if my name weren’t so close to the bottom. It took me five whole minutes to find my name because I didn’t want to admit that I wasn’t anywhere close to the top ten percent.

  I glanced at Devon, who was standing next to the other guys at the side of the classroom. Strangely, I wanted to find out what he thought. He arched a brow at me, his placid expression clearly spelling out his disappointment. I scrunched my nose up in annoyance and turned back to the scoreboard.

  Three girls, surprisingly, were larger failures than I. Jeanine Snowater and Francesca Bitchface (Bitchface wasn’t her last name, but I wanted to leave it at that) kept me from rock bottom. Another girl whose name I couldn’t put to a face, Herena Scott, sat firmly at last place with a score of zero. I wondered whether it was because she’d died.

  The professor swished
his hand through the magical lines of the scoreboard. The magic dissipated before coalescing once more, gathering to display what was my offending low score. “After tallying your points last week, these are your current positions.” He nodded to himself, and the flower on his hat bobbed. “Note that the bottom ninety percent won’t make it to goddess-hood and will have to suffer the consequences of failure. It is still early in the school year and there’s much room for improvement, but I do hope that being reminded of your positions like this will be motivation enough to push yourselves harder. Here in the Sanctuary, the goddesses encourage self-responsibility and meritocracy. Even if you fail once, making it to the top shouldn’t be much of a problem with enough hard work. I hope those below will pick themselves up. The window for failure narrows every day, and the punishment for it is harsh.”

  Hearing that, Danna spun around to give me a worried look. She and I were well aware of what exactly that failure meant. We’d die, essentially, turning into mere fodder for the chiasma, and my current placement in the class did little in appeasing my worries. I didn’t just want to be in the top ten percent, however. I needed to make sure that all of us survived, even though I wasn’t quite sure where to start. If I failed in my quest to save these girls, I fully intended to head back to Agness and use my spell on her, even if Devon told me it wouldn’t work.

  I questioned whether Devon could be fully trusted. His father worked for Agness and was her vassal, after all. Maybe he was on her side.

  My classmates listened intently to Professor Lochlan as he went through the next potion recipe, completely oblivious to the fates that awaited them. They giggled and chattered like normal schoolgirls would, happy to live in their cliques and ignorance. I’d rather be one of them, dancing around mindlessly in this happy fantasy the goddesses had created for them. Then again, if I were left to stumble along blindly, I’d be powerless to change what awaited us.

  Maybe I still was, and that thought terrified me to no end.

  I slapped myself over the face to steel my resolve more. I shouldn’t let fear control me. That was how I’d end up a pathetic slob. My self-harm earned me a weird stare from Francesca.

  “What’s up with you?” she asked calmly. I blinked at her in surprise. It was only our second meeting, but I expected her to sound snottier. The last incident, with her burning her own hands off, must have caused her to lose some confidence.

  “It’s a new way to make your skin tauter,” I said. “You should try it.”

  “Let me make this clear,” Bitchface said. “I still hate your guts and think you should burn in the seventh circle of hell, but I care for my hands more, so I’m not going to create unnecessary arguments and think we should at least attempt to cooperate.”

  I didn’t like the thought of cooperating with her, but I needed to climb up the ranks, too. Bitchface and I came to a tense truce formed mostly out of convenience.

  “I must say,” Bitchface added, “I’m not keen on forming an alliance with a murderer.”

  “A murderer?”

  “I still think you killed Miley.”

  “On what basis?”

  “You were sleeping next to her, in her room.”

  “Do you want me to clap for you?” I clasped my hands together in a mocking gesture. “You have impeccable detective skills.”

  If only she knew the truth about Miley, then she wouldn’t be acting this haughtily. She turned her nose up and turned her attention back to Professor Lochlan, who was holding up a phallic mushroom and flicking it around. He seemed a little too excited doing that.

  “Let’s just try to focus on getting good grades,” I said. “That’s what important.”

  Jeanine slumped her shoulders and sank into a hunched position.

  I, too, returned my gaze to Lochlan, wanting to follow the curriculum closely.

  Lochlan ran his fingers around the rim of the mushroom, which sent an awful sense of discomfort through me. Did he really have to do that? “This here is the Abestus, a variety of mushroom created by Dionysus many hundreds of years ago.”

  From my vague memory of literature class, I recalled Dionysus being a male god. I raised my hand. “Was he a god?” I asked.

  Lochlan shook his head. “He was a vassal, albeit a very powerful one. Many thought his powers rivaled that of a god, and so after Ares’s rebellion, the goddesses needed to control him and have him subdued.” Lochlan held the mushroom up. “It is not common for a vassal to have powers of creation.” He then smacked the mushroom onto the cutting board, chopped it up roughly, and placed it into a beaker. As I casually glanced at my vassals, I saw them wincing. No doubt they likened the mushroom to their dicks.

  Come to think of it, I’d never seen any of them before. I wondered if they were just as large.

  I reminded myself to focus. I shouldn’t be thinking about dicks when trying to ace a class. They were an effective but unnecessary distraction.

  Lochlan continued, “The mushroom is a breois element. It’s highly destructive, and if you chop it up the wrong way, it’ll explode, and you’ll probably lose your hands.”

  Great. Why did the stakes always have to consist of losing my hands? Bitchface shifted uncomfortably in her seat and glanced at her palms. They were mostly healed, but the memory of their skin melting off must have given her some trauma. That probably served as incentive to pay better attention.

  Lochlan went through a plethora of other ingredients. I focused, trying to remember every one. As I did, images of dead bodies came flashing through my thoughts repeatedly, serving as motivation. I had to get this right. The fear of death was a pretty decent reason for not dicking around.

  “The school year has just started,” Lochlan said. “So, even if you did terribly in the last class, that isn’t the end of things. The grading of this lesson will weigh double compared to the last. If you do well in this, then your scores can be doubled and your standings will change. I always want to encourage competition.” The professor placed his hands on his hips and nodded to himself, as if taking pride in his genius way of managing the students. I wasn’t too impressed.

  Francesca and I exchanged glances. Our truce pulled like a tight string between us. It was taut, ready to snap at any moment.

  I’d memorized every instruction Lochlan gave, which surprised me. I didn’t have particularly good memory. In fact, my memory was utter shit. Maybe it was because I often didn’t try, since I got bored so easily.

  Ten minutes later, I’d finished my potion at the same time as Jeanine. I let Jeanine lead the team, since it seemed like potions were her forte. As I looked at Danna across the classroom, I saw that she’d done a good job, too. We’d cut up the dick mushroom like experts and whipped up the poison Lochlan wanted to in no time at all. I sniffed at the resulting grayish potion that we’d poured into a beaker.

  “Caramel Valencia,” the professor said. He’d stopped in front of our table with a puffed-out chest and his hands behind his back. He narrowed his eyes at me, and I could already feel him judging me like a criminal, even though I’d done nothing wrong. Worry spiked up my chest. Had I messed up the potion? “And what do we have here?” he asked.

  “Um,” I began, “whatever you instructed us to create? The poison’s supposed to be tested on rats later, right?”

  The professor, despite his terrible fashion sense, was a good-looking guy. He had full lips that he pressed together. “I’m not talking about the lesson. I’m talking about you. How are you feeling?”

  “Feeling?” I asked. “Since when did you guys care about the half-bloods’ feelings? We’re just here to be graded and pass tests, right?”

  Lochlan waved his hands, snobbishly gesturing at nothing in particular. “Have you been angrier lately? Violent, perhaps? Do you sense the need to break things, ruin things, hurt others?”

  I felt Francesca’s and Jeanine staring. They were obviously wondering why the professor was singling me out. No doubt, Francesca’s suspicions that I’d killed Miley had
risen after this interaction. I could almost smell the accusation coming from her.

  “I’m sorry, professor,” I said. “The only thing that got broken is my heart, after my shitty ex did whatever he did, and even then, there’s not really that much damage. Everything’s fine.”

  The professor cocked his head. “Hm.”

  I lifted a brow at him, not liking that he was eying me as if I were some lab rat. “We finished our potion.” I held up the beaker of gray liquid. “And in record time, too.”

  “Good.”

  I tensed, trying to ignore how Lochlan’s judgmental appraisal unsettled me.

  Lochlan reached from the other side of the table and pulled out a cage. Inside the cage was a chittering albino rat with matted white fur. “Test it on this.”

  “How?”

  “Pour the potion on the rat and we’ll see how it reacts.”

  “Must we?” The rat looked up at me with red eyes that belonged to the devil incarnate. It was a hideous creature, although still cuter than the brightlings. Then again, everything was cuter than the brightlings. The rat cleaned its whiskers and looked at me innocently. I’d never been one for torture or violence. I shouldn’t be going around hurting harmless animals. “Can’t you tell whether the potion works just by looking at it? I know that PETA doesn’t exist here, but that doesn’t mean we should be cruel. Love and kindness to all creatures, yeah?” Even those horrid brightlings.

  Lochlan chuckled, momentarily breaking his mask of seriousness. Strangely, that creeped me out even more. He pushed the cage closer to me. “Please, Caramel, do follow the instructions closely. Do you want to be at the bottom of the class forever?” There was only one kind of bottom I was interested in. Actually, four. I glanced at my vassals.

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then it’ll do you good to listen to my orders. Pour the poison on the rat.”

  My stomach twisted as Lochlan unlocked the cage and pulled the poor creature out. It squealed, obviously terrified. Lochlan spread the rat out in front of me as if it were a chicken breast.