by CY Jones
Copyright © 2021 CY Jones
Published by CY Jones
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced/transmitted/distributed in any form. No part of this publication shall be shared by any means including photocopying, recording, or any electronic/mechanical method, or the Internet, without prior written consent of the authors. Cases of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law are the exception. The unauthorized reproduction/transmitting of this work is illegal.
Published in the United States of America.
Cover By: EVE Graphic Design LLC
Edited By: Dani Black
Proofreader: MW Editing
Formatting: Purrfectlty Haunting Formatting
For all my anime fans out there
Contents
Ansel
1. Angelica
2. Zion
3. Angelica
4. Angelica
5. Angelica
6. Quinn
7. Angelica
8. Angelica
9. Angelica
10. Angelica
11. Angelica
12. Quinn
13. Ryker
14. Angelica
15. Angelica
16. Zion
17. Angelica
18. Kirito
19. Angelica
20. Angelica
21. Angelica
22. Milo
23. Angelica
24. Shattered Glass
25. Angelica
26. Angelica
Epilogue
Bonus Scene
Note From The Author
Find CY Jones Here
Books by CY Jones
Books by The Grim Sisters
Books by the Grim Sister
About the Author
Ansel
Nineteen Years Earlier
“Are you sure this is the only way? You know as well as I do, if he catches you, he’ll kill you. I’m begging you, Kassandra, please, reconsider.” My cry is a plea; and I wish I can make my magic dive into her body and bend her to my will, but unlike her husband, I do not have the power of manipulation. Palming her soft cheeks, I pull her toward me until our forehead’s touch and I can stare deep into her hazel eyes. The mere thought of losing her scares me and right now, I’m fucking terrified.
“Ansel, my love, you know there’s no other way. For everyone’s sake, for her,” she says, looking down. I have to leave. “You don’t know how much I wish things worked out differently. That we were two different people, but the hard truth is, our affair was doomed from the start. You have Leslie and he,” she sneers with a tone full of unfiltered disgust and resentment, “will never let me go.” Reaching down, she grabs the wicker basket at her feet gently enough to not disturb the tiny babe tucked safely inside slumbering peacefully, not knowing her life is about to change.
“Kassandra,” I start, but she shakes her head, halting my words. The sadness written all over her face is excruciating to watch as it permeates into her skin and sinks into her soul.
“Her name is Angelica. Please, take good care of her. I’m trusting you to keep my daughter safe, or all of this would have been for nothing.”
“Are you sure leaving her with me is what’s best? If he finds out...”
“He won’t.” Her tone leaves no argument. She’s so sure and I want to be as confident as she is, but…
“Your wife just had a baby. She may hate me, but she hates scandal even more. She’ll hold onto the lie fiercely and pretend to have given birth to twins, then let what she thinks is the truth slip to prevent shaming herself and your family. As long as you stick to the story, and she believes Angelica is your love child, everything will be fine. Victor will never find out about her.”
I’m trying very hard to have faith in her plan, but the holes threaten to swallow us both whole. I understand her wanting to keep her daughter safe. I have children of my own that I’d go to the ends of the world to protect, but what bothers me is that she has no such contingency for her own life, which she confirms when she says, “Once done with me… he’ll disappear.” We’re both silent, prolonging our goodbye. I don’t want to think of what ‘once done’ means. Gritting my teeth, I fight back my basic instinct to throw her over my shoulder like a bag of potatoes, grab the baby, and run.
Without the child, he’ll kill Kassandra and won’t lose any sleep over it. He never loved her. The only use she had to him was to birth him a powerful heir. Once he believes she has failed in her duties, he’ll get rid of her without any further thought. Knowing doing so will wreck me is only an extra bonus to the bastard. I want to stop time. Keep her here with me by my side where she always belonged. Where we were before real life slammed into us and we were forced to make the hard choices. We both paid the ultimate sacrifice when we had to marry people we did not want and could never love for the sake of others and because the rules state a mage of the dark arts and the light cannot co-exist. She’s my Juliet and I her Romeo. But just like the star-crossed lovers, our love is tragic, destined to fail from the start as fate pulls our strings in different directions.
“One day, when she’s ready to hear the truth, let her know I loved her more than anything in this world. More than my own life.” With those damning words, she turns to leave. Turning her back on me and her baby.
“I’ll alway love you,” I whisper to the wind, hoping it reaches her ears.
Chapter 1
Angelica
Present Time
When we pull up to Crescent Moon Academy, my twin looks out the window, fascinated, while I stare boredly, wishing I was anywhere but here. We may be siblings, but we had two very different opinions of which institutions we wanted to continue our magical training. It’s not the actual academy I hate, but it’s location. Bum fuck-all Louisana, and coincidentally, only a couple of hours away from our family home. I thought when I finally got the chance to attend university, it would be far away from the judgy assholes who loathe me. High on my list is my mother. Well, she’s not really my Mom. Just a reluctant substitute who was forced by her cheating husband to take care of me, and she never lets me forget it.
The woman in question hates my guts, which in my opinion is unfair and unwarranted. It’s not my fault I’m the love child Father brought home after my real mom died in childbirth. My brother is not my twin at all. He’s actually three days older than me, but that’s a secret nobody but the immediate family knows. Harlequins are good at keeping secrets, especially scandalous, earth shattering ones such as that.
“Why aren’t you more excited?” Quinn questions with wide blue eyes and I roll my hazels at him as he bounces up and down on the seat, making the bells on his jester hat jingle. Normally, he’s more reserved, but the prospect of being somewhere new has him brimming with excitement. Quinn is an inquisitive bastard. Mostly, it’s his curiosity that gets him in trouble with me not far behind because, twins or not, we’re a package deal.
Keeping my gaze on him, I watch him with calculated interest. Out of our three other siblings, he’s the one I’m closest with. Maybe it’s because we’re the same age or because he’s the only one in our whole family, besides our Dad, who doesn’t blame me for our father’s misdeeds. Growing up in the Boudreaux household was hard when you’re always being treated like an outsider. It also doesn’t help that they’re all harlequins and I’m a voodoo priestess. I’m not totally useless as a harlequin. Our father did teach me the basics. In fact, he’s the one who taught me everything I know when it comes to magic. Leslie couldn’t be bothered, c
hoosing to concentrate mostly on Quinn and our other siblings. It’s not like I cared she treated me differently. It may seem cold, but I’ve grown used to her indifference toward me. I mean, I’ve had a long time to deal with it. She drew the line in the sand when I was born, and with my real mother dead, it’s not like I ever knew what I was missing.
“Will you sit back or the mages here will think you were raised by wolves, then it’ll get back to Leslie and you know she’ll blame me,” I gripe.
“You know you’re not allowed to call her that out in public. What would Mom think if she found out?” he tsks, turning the tables of my chastising.
“You’re diabolical, you know that, right?”
“I love you,” he replies, smiling before winking and blowing me a kiss.
“Cheeky bastard,” I grumble, folding my arms in front of me. My brother is such a flirt and one hell of a smooth talker. You wouldn’t know by looking as his pretty face that he’s dangerous as fuck and a murdering bastard.
Mr. Meow, don’t knock the name, my cranky ass familiar looks up from his seat on my lap and flicks his green eyes toward the window. Not impressed by the view, he yawns before laying his head back in my lap and closes his eyes. I never wanted a cat for a familiar. Before Mr. Meow came along, I didn’t think I even liked cats. I was never good with animals, but fate had its own ideas when a tiny black kitten showed up one day, scratching at our door and demanding to be let in. When the housekeeper let him inside, Mr. Meow trotted right up to me, and with his sharp ass claws, he attacked me, drawing blood, and claimed me as his. We have been inseparable ever since. Mr. Meow is something else Leslie despises me over. Only the strongest of mages get familiars. Neither she nor my four other siblings have one, but Father does. A beautiful, yet ornery hawk named Marley.
The town car stops in the circular drive in front of the main building of the academy and I stare up at the huge brick structure with impending doom. I don’t know why, but I’ve been having a strange feeling lately that this place is where my life will change. Something life-changing is going to happen here and I have yet to figure out if it’s going to be good or bad.
Watching me closely, Quinn opens his mouth, then closes it, just to open it again. “What is it?” I ask, curious as to what has him so hesitant to say to me.
“You know, sis, it’s not too late. We can still run away.” What a random suggestion. Sweet, but impractical. Quinn may act like a fool most of the time, but he can’t help it. It’s in our blood, but what most people don’t see is that he’s very inquisitive and intune to all things me, almost to the point of insanity. It’s a curse and blessing at the same time. As appealing as his offer is, I know that he knows it’s not plausible. Running away is nothing but a selfish dream that when you wake you forget what you even dreamt about.
“No, we can’t,” I answer logically. I know all about running away. I’ve thought about running away a lot growing up, but never had the guts to do so. I’m super close to my father and brother and couldn’t fathom leaving them behind, especially my father, who gave up so much to raise me. I’m not that selfish. He put an even bigger strain on his already struggling marriage to be a father to me. Even now, he and Leslie barely talk to one another, only acting amicable around each other in front of their children and outsiders. Dad doesn’t even sleep in the same bedroom as Leslie and has his own wing of the house he keeps to. Sure, he made a mistake, but in the end, he owned up to it and chose to do the right thing and take care of me.
“Why not? We’re both nineteen. In the human world, we’re considered adults. Who knows? Living like normals might be interesting. Like some grand adventure.”
“You’re such a child,” I scoff at his ridiculous idea, but... “You’d do that for me? Run away?”
“Of course, I would, angel pie. No matter what, you’re my sister and I love you.” His normally carefree face is as serious as his tone. He means every word. No matter what, he’ll always have my back, which I’m grateful for, but I love him enough to not have him ruin his life and send it spirling towards uncertainty over me.
“I love you too, big bro.”
“Sooo, we’re leaving?” he hedges.
“No, we’re staying right here and making this place our bitch,” I answer and he smiles wickedly, estatic of the challenge laid before us.
Inside, a student volunteer greets us with a wide Colgate smile. She’s dressed like a preppy college student decked all out in the academy’s paraphernalia and I hate her immediately, especially the way she zeroes in on my brother.
“Hello, I’m Kaydence Starburst and I’ll be your tour guide. You must be the Boudreaux twins,” she says, unsure. I don’t blame her. Quinn and I look nothing alike. Like most of our family, he’s naturally blonde and, believe it or not, those blonde locks of his are way longer than mine, flowing well past his ass when he leaves it down. For me, in some sort of solidarity, he recently started dying half of it a rich chestnut brown like my own, which actually coordinates well with his jester hats. His eyes are a bright blue while mine are hazel, unless I’m using my magic and they turn a kaleidoscope of colors. He’s tall at six foot two, and when compared to him, I’m a tiny bundle of badass at five foot five. He’s traditionally dressed like most harlequins, in flashy clothes consisting of a range of loud colors intended to seek out attention when I prefer a more subtle style with black being its starting base color.
“That will be us,” I answer, mimicking her preppy smile, which scares her more than it puts her at ease. Quinn subtly elbows me and I glare up at him. I’m trying to be nice here. It’s not like I meant to scare her on purpose. Or maybe I did.
“I’m Quinn Boudreaux and this is my sister, Angelica,” he says, laying on the charm and the poor girl falls for it hook, line, and sinker. I roll my eyes, holding in an agitated groan. No matter where we go, girls follow after Quinn like he’s the Pied Piper, wielding his golden dick instead of a flute. He’s like the babe magnet of harlequins and a total manwhore.
“Nice to meet you both,” she replies, smiling widely. Would it be rude to mention I’ve already forgotten her name? Tired of being overlooked, Mr. Meow makes his presence known by plopping his butt down right on the poor girl’s designer shoe without a care in the world and starts licking his paw. “Oh my, one of you has a familiar,” she squeals excitedly, bending down to pet Mr. Meow, who hisses and swipes his claw at her, making her jump back.
“Sorry, like his owner, he’s not a people person,” I shrug.
“He’s yours?” she asks, shocked. Ah, I bet the perky bitch thought Mr. Meow belonged to my brother. It wouldn’t be the first time someone assumed incorrectly, like it’s inconceivable that I, the black sheep of the family, is capable of being more powerful than my perfect brother.
“That he is. Mr. Meow and I go way back. He always finds me the best hairs for my dolls,” I spout sarcastically, looking pointedly at the featureless doll hanging from my bag.
“I’m sorry, it says here you’re both harlequins.” Confused, she scans the pages on her clipboard, flipping through like she’s missing something. Figures. I bet Leslie fabricated the forms when enrolling us. She knows damn well past the basics I’m no harlequin.
“Afraid not, sweetheart,” I snark. “Only my brother is. I’m a voodoo priestess,” I tell her, wiggling my fingers, loving the look of fear on her face. Her pretty aqua eyes widen, and she takes a step back like she can catch what I classify myself as like an airborne disease. As if she could be that lucky.
For the last nineteen years, my brother and I have been homeschooled by our parents. Quinn with Leslie and me with our Dad. If it weren’t for some stupid law that states we’re supposed to be certified by a magical institution to continue use of our magic, that arrangement would still be the case. We’ve been sheltered all our lives. Never leaving the harlequin commune our father is in charge of for long, so the rules of the magical world we were born into is still kind of new to us. The way our preppy tour guide is ga
wking at me makes me feel like I’m missing something. It’s a strange reaction, and not just to me. My brother has picked up on it too.
“Is that going to be a problem?” Quinn speaks, frowning. His gaze is intense, lasered on the poor girl. My brother is all fun and games until you piss him off. If that happens... well, better luck to ya, because you’ll need it.
“Umm... you see... I... I’m not qualified to show you around,” she stutters through her words. “I mean... as you know… as a light witch, I don’t frequent the dark side of the campus, so I wouldn’t even know where to take you.”
“The dark side?” my brother and I repeat in unison. Did we just transport into a Star Wars movie?
“I’m sorry, I’m explaining this all wrong. Since I don’t study in the dark arts, I don’t know the proper etiquette. Those classes are done on the other side of the campus. To keep the peace, they like to keep light and dark mages separate.”
“Why?” I ask, curious. I don’t see what the big deal is.
“I have no idea. Maybe it’s because we don’t mix well. We’re like oil and vinegar. It’s in our DNA to clash when there's really no point in mingling. It's not like we can actually be romantically involved with one another, unless you want to piss off the mage council and have them hunt you down. Plus, our range of powers are so different, so why waste time training with each other?”
