Ravens' Blood Academy 1: A Vampire Historia Paranormal Fantasy

by Scarlette D'Noire

  The feather glided over the envelope and hovered. I shook my head as I squeezed my eyes shut. What was this magic? At a persistent thumping sound on my table, I unglued one eye to see the feather tapping impatiently.

  “Geez. Okay, Okay. I’ll open it.” Exasperation forced out my words. So much for waiting for Aunt Marea.

  Slowly, I picked up the envelope holding the mystery parchment and slid my finger under the seal, popping it open. To my dismay the paper inside seemed completely void of any writing. Is this a joke? The feather gravitated toward the blank sheet and moved across as if guided by an unseen hand, and words appeared.

  Miss Adora Jackson:

  Congratulations. You have been accepted to Ravens’ Blood Academy in Richwood, West Virginia.

  Although acceptance into our prestigious academy is usually determined at birth, your records seem to have been misplaced and only discovered recently. RBA would be honored to include a Trifectus Rara. We believe a pupil of your breeding would be an asset to Ravens’ Blood.

  Your bloodline has been confirmed in the Book of Pedigree, and it is indeed rare. However, our Academy has trained several Trifectus Rara over the years, and we believe RBA would enrich your life and skills. Orientation for the Fall term begins September 13. However, due to your late entry to Ravens’ Blood, we strongly suggest you attend our summer session on June 15.

  Sincerely:

  R. Willowsbane,

  Headmaster

  Trifectus Rara? What language was this practical joke written in? I glanced at the document again, but the words had disappeared. Not one trace of the spidery scrawl or ink remained. Exasperated, I turned the paper over to examine the back then laughed at myself. As if disappearing words somehow bleed through the page to the other side. I scratched my head and twisted my lips before puffing my cheeks out with a deep exhale.

  “All right.” I slapped my knees. “It’s official. I’ve lost my mind completely.”

  I examined the paper again and found an ordinary acceptance letter with no mention of weird bloodlines or Latin sounding ailments. Simply an ordinary invitation to a prestigious academy—in the Appalachian Mountains, no less.

  Relieved the effects of whatever was on the pages of the book had worn off, I allowed my mind to roam the possibilities of it all. A top academy! I’ve never even heard of such schools, and they said I’m rare...or did they? This is crazy! I narrowed my eyes and tapped my fingers on the coffee table, I suspected Aunt Marea had pulled some strings to get me accepted to the school, so perhaps it was important...somehow. But why would she hide the acceptance letter from me? My stomach burned, as if a fire had been lit in my belly, at the thought of her changing her mind and keeping this opportunity from me.

  I’d always known my auntie was full of secrets—although maybe not to the extent of hidden rooms and dusty books. Those secrets caused us to move often, as if we ran from someone or something. I blew out a sigh. Aunt Marea was really the only mother I ever knew. For reasons she wouldn’t explain, no matter how much I threw a fit, wheedled, or baked her favorite cookies, she kept the facts about my real parents a secret, other than to say her sister, my mother, was gone. As in forever. I’d never even seen a picture.

  My aunt originated from Barbados and had medium tone skin, but my skin was the color of a slight suntan, so I clearly had mixed race heritage. All Aunt Marea ever said was the past was better left with the dead. So, was my father dead, too? And what in the heck happened to my mother? How did she die? Those were the kind of thoughts that wandered through my brain some nights when I tried to sleep, and it was all I could think about in my tossing and turning.

  I paced the floor and nudged the area rug with the tip of my still numb toe then glanced in the mirror. A shock of black hair greeted me, and I smoothed my hands over the thick strands. At least I could look composed, even if my world had been turned upside down by home-invading ravens and an invitation to a mysterious school.

  I tugged at the end of my hair, willing it to fall into place. The length covered my shoulders and my blue eyes peeked out from behind my bangs, as if searching for answers I couldn’t possibly know. Thanks Dad. I smiled.

  My mind reeled as I tiptoed Auntie's book back toward her room with the intention of securely getting it back in its hiding place in her secret room. Random thoughts zipped through my brain at all the possibilities, and unanswered questions made me dizzy. I hope I fit in at RBA. I don’t want to wear dorky uniforms. Why did my Aunt hide this from me? Acceptance is usually determined at birth.

  I studied the clutter on my aunt’s dresser. French perfumes and makeup lined the surface in neat rows. I set the book on the edge of her dresser and dusted my hand over the expensive bottles and smoothed my fingertips over the ridges of her most prized possession—an ornate teardrop shaped bottle, made of crystal-like glass, with deep facets. The amethyst color at the narrow top was barely visible but grew deeper purple toward the bottom.

  A solid silver bird’s claw base suspended the decanter. Four silver talons extended upward from the base, three in the back and one in the front. A thin chain wrapped around the neck of the bottle supporting a flat onyx stone encircled in a silver setting. An ornate initial D stood out boldly in the middle.

  The bottle held a lot of intrigue for me. All of my life I’d heard the stern warnings to leave it alone as it was a family heirloom. I envisioned my mother spraying the contents over her collarbone and neck as my father nuzzled up behind her.

  D...hmmm. Who are you? The million-dollar question, indeed.

  A deep sigh escaped my lips and pulled them into a frown, as if the ache in my heart weighed them down. I squeezed the bulb on the atomizer and closed my eyes as the spray of perfume misted my neck and wafted into my nose. Ugggh! My eyes watered and a forceful cough doubled me over slightly as I fumbled to put the bottle back in place.

  After a few sneezes, I jerked my head toward the mirror again and narrowed my eyes, blinking back the tears thanks to my lovely allergies to just about everything. Jagged thoughts rambled through my brain, and I gasped as the realization of the letter hit me like a ton of bricks.

  A twinge of fear froze all of my thoughts and movements before it crept up my chest. Pin pricks stung my neck and face as panic sank into my pores, and I shuddered. I blew out a deep breath and told myself it was natural to be nervous, since I’d been homeschooled for most of my eighteen years on this earth. I sighed, contemplating all the changes facing me. It would be nice to actually be around kids my own age and live normal, whatever that was. I tried to stay excited about RBA and quash the feelings of nervousness that roiled in my stomach, but it still churned in anticipation and fear.

  After so long of homeschool, Aunt Marea must have devised a very important plan to make such a big change. I just had to trust in her and her strange methods. Although, I still wanted to know why she hid the letter from me.

  I sucked in another deep, fortifying breath. “To conquering new beginnings.” I lifted my fist in the air as if I’d won a victory and smiled at myself in the mirror.

  Then I dropped my fist and my mouth curled into a frown as I bit the inside of my bottom lip and slumped my shoulders. Now if only I believed it, I might survive a frufru school full of prissy, entitled students.

  A ghastly shriek emanated from the living room, and the sound of the door slamming rang in my ears. Shit! Aunt Marea’s home early. I scuttled out of her room and slunk into my own, easing the door shut. My heart pounded as I thrust the book under my mattress and searched frantically under my bed for my Chucks. I flung myself on the mattress, wedging my feet into my shoes. I sat on my hands and shifted my weight slightly from side to side, bracing myself for the inevitable.

  “Adora!” my aunt called out.

  I grimaced and shut my eyes at her shrill tone. The wrath of Marea would rain down on my head at any moment, and I steeled myself for the much-deserved assault. At the sound of my door swinging open, I popped an eye open. My aunt raced toward me,
and I marveled how she could sprint in spiked heels.

  “You broke it!” she said in a softer voice than I imagined would come from her lips.

  Unsure if she meant the book or the heels, I bit my bottom lip nervously. “I’m sorry,” was my not-so-unique response, and I hung my head as I tied my shoelaces. “I’ll do extra chores to pay for the damage,” I suggested, standing to face her, but avoiding eye contact as I was still unsure which broken item she’d discovered since I left the letter sitting on the coffee table.

  To my surprise, she embraced me in a tight hug. “You don’t know what you’ve done,” she whispered.

  Her well-toned body felt small and defeated in my arms, and a twinge of guilt hit me. I swallowed hard and winced. “I’m sure we can find a repair shop,” I offered. “To fix it like new,” I added for good measure.

  A deep troubled sigh heaved her chest against mine. “Girl, you don’t know what you’ve done,” she warned.

  The familiar chill from earlier in the living room ran up my spine, and I shuddered. “I know I shouldn’t have snooped in your room,” I said and smoothed her hair to comfort her.

  She guided me to sit on the bed beside her, and I braced myself for my punishment, avoiding the glare of her russet-colored eyes.

  I brushed my hand over the ripples in my bedspread, pressing it flat with my palm, and hoped she wouldn’t discover her book hidden under my mattress. “I’ll accept whatever punishment you think is fit without protest,” I said sheepishly, clasping her hand and hoping for a reprieve from any well-deserved punishment.

  “Oh, Adora.” Auntie shook her head and patted my thigh. “This is much more serious than snooping in my room and a broken heel.” She clamped her lips into a tight line.

  The smell of her perfume tickled my nose, and I scrunched my eyes shut and stifled a sneeze. Desperate to shift the situation, I pondered how to mention my invitation to Ravens’ Blood. “Umm, well on the bright side, I received an invitation to join a school called RBA this summer.” I bounced on the bed, barely able to contain my excitement. “Oh, Auntie, how could you keep such a surprise from me?” I groaned, smiling wide in hopes that she recognized my veiled forgiveness at hiding my letter and she, too, would be forgiving for my ruining her boots.

  Aunt Marea blinked rapidly, but said nothing. As usual. She stood and paced the floor. The fabric of her black pencil skirt swooshed at her knees, and I took in her silhouette, admiring her slim figure, which always impressed me—likely because we in no way shared the same body shape. Still, I embraced my strong physique as one of life’s blessings, since the only thing Marea ever told me on the subject was sometimes slenderness came from hardship and not genes. Well, that was evident in my hips and butt.

  “You should have seen it,” I gushed. “A raven gave me an invitation with disappearing ink. I thought he’d whisk me around the room in a victory waltz at my acceptance to the academy,” I chattered on trying to take her mind off broken heels and severe punishments.

  My aunt folded her arms and cradled her chin, tapping her index finger on her cheek. I studied her face, which twisted slightly, as if her thoughts caused her pain. I’d never seen Aunt Marea so distressed over my many years of shenanigans.

  “Oh, Adora, I’m not in the mood for your crazy stories. You need to take your vitamins. I think your blood sugar is low,” she instructed. “And then you need to pack.” She raked her fingers through her curly hair then waved her hand toward her face tapping her lip with her finger. An age-old sign for me to take my pills to keep my blood sugar under control. “Yes, we must get you safely tucked away at Ravens’ Blood.”

  “But school doesn’t start for a week.” I scratched my head. Wait. What? Safely tucked away?

  Her words perplexed me, but I hopped off my bed and ran over to my closet. If she was happy to forget about my snooping and breaking the heel of her boot, then I was ecstatic to pack. I yanked shirts and pants off their hangers throwing them behind me, until half my clothes lay in a heap on the floor.

  “What do you think is appropriate to bring? Are there uniforms at RBA? Do you know?”

  My newly acquired prized possession sat on the top shelf of my closet. Teetering on the tip of my toes, I tugged at the strap of my awesome black backpack. It tumbled off the shelf and promptly hit me in the face. Smooth move, Adora! I sank my nose into the backpack, sniffing the scent of new leather and smiled. I’ve been waiting to use you, my love. As I stifled a squeal, a small giggle erupted from my lips, and I wrapped my arms around my new bag, hugging it tightly to my chest. I peered back into my bedroom, but didn’t see my aunt. I twisted my lips and a small twinge of guilt niggled at me. I really didn’t want to cause her stress, but every once in a while, I couldn’t help myself.

  Sitting on my closet floor, I pondered the mountain of clothes in front of me, and my vision faltered slightly as my heart ran a marathon in my chest. The core of my belly tightened, as if all the churning acid dropped down into an endless vortex in the pit of my stomach. I released a gush of air, blowing my breath upward toward my bangs and sending them sailing in the air away from my eyes.

  Then I took a few more controlled breaths to settle all the gnawing doubts in my mind. You’ll be fine. Just be yourself. Ugh. As if that’ll win any popularity contests. I winced and ran my fingers through my tumbled curls. There's no turning back now. You’re going to Ravens’ Blood for better or worse.

  I plastered a fake smile on my face. The school would teach me and help me master life skills. But what if I didn’t have any? The thought sent a shiver through me. I rubbed my clammy hands down the length of my jeans and slumped against the door, closing my eyes. I was a homeschooled girl with no social awareness from a small town—having exactly zero skills to master, scared me most of all.

  At a loud thump, I turned my head toward my bedroom door. Aunt Marea stood on the threshold of my room. She’d changed into a fabulous pair of dark skinny jeans with black hiking boots and a black turtleneck sweater. A worn brown duffel bag rested at her feet, and a gorgeous oversized black leather bag hung from her shoulders—one I had hopes of snagging for my school things. It was a perfect match for my new backpack. She nudged the duffel bag with the tip of her boot. “I packed you a few months’ supply of your vitamins.”

  I groaned. “Noooo! Oh my God! If the others find out my auntie packs me vitamins from home, I’ll be a laughingstock.” I protested.

  She ignored my mini tantrum and studied the pile of clothes on the floor. “Let’s sort through this mess and get you packed so we can leave before dark.” She dropped her shoulder bag on the floor and sat next to me.

  “Leave before dark? We’re leaving tonight? School doesn’t even start for another week. My God, I really will be a laughingstock. Sent a week too early even for the early start with my special vitamins?” I slumped my shoulders. “I don’t know, Aunt Marea. Maybe I can start in the fall like a normal person,” I offered.

  “You'll be fine.” She patted my hand. “Don’t fret. They’ll love you as much as I do.” She offered a small smile, one that looked as if she didn’t believe in her own sentiment and couldn’t muster enough enthusiasm to convince herself, let alone convince me.

  The sound of a ringing cell phone blared out, in the silence, and we both jumped. I’d never seen my aunt so twitchy, and I tried to chalk it up to nerves over my impending departure. She gave me a look that told me to stay put and finish packing as she rose to return to her room and answer the call. Nevertheless, in true Adora style, I waited a few moments, then crept down the hallway to hear who’d phoned her. I mean, I’d almost been good, right? I hadn’t even questioned the talking raven.

  She tapped her boot on the floor, restless, as she spoke. “I agree, it is best for her.”

  I strained to hear her conversation as I didn’t have supersonic hearing. Heck, I didn’t have supersonic anything. I chewed on my thumb and tried to hold my breath, hoping to catch a little more of the conversation, I was clearly the to
pic of, or identify the mystery person on the other end of the line.

  When I thought I’d suffocate if I didn’t take in a little air, I forced myself to suck in only a small gulp. Hoping my stealth mode was at the top of my game, I didn’t dare move, but my aunt stiffened her back and stood perfectly still in the silence looming between us. Silence. For what felt like an eternity. Ugggh, come on, say something!

  “Adora Jackson!” My aunt’s voice boomed out—not exactly what I’d hoped to hear.

  Now, it was my back that stiffened. Shit. Busted. She snapped her heels together, whirled around on the balls of her feet, thrust her index finger at me and motioned for me to go back to my room.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I slunk back to my room with my tail between my legs. Defeated.

  My track record today already stood at 2-0 with the broken heel and jimmied lock on her weird book. Now, I had the dreaded three strikes and hellfire would soon rain down on me. Heavy footsteps plodded down the hallway, something my aunt never did. Unlike me, she had stealth mode down pat and could easily sneak up on me anytime, so intimidating footsteps could only indicate her anger at my rudeness, and her fury was blazed hotter than I hoped.

  “Sorry, Auntie,” I called out, then I heard her footsteps return to her room.

  No reply...great. And maybe she was so mad she had to take a moment to cool off before facing me. I chewed on my jagged nail a little longer, waiting for her to come stomping in and read me the riot act for bad manners. As I studied the contents of my sudden floordrobe, I weighed up the lesser of the two evils between packing and approaching Aunt Marea before she came to me. I danced around my room. Well, calling it dancing is a bit of a stretch, as my movements resembled dancing as much as caterwauling resembled singing. I sprinted in place, throwing my head down and flipping my hair around, as I shook my arms out wide and over my head. My go-to method to relieve stress. Decision made, I sprinted to my aunt's bedroom before I lost the bravery to face the wrath of Marea.