Supernatural Academy: Sophomore Witch

by Ingrid Seymour

  Sophomore Witch

  Supernatural Academy Book 2

  Ingrid Seymour

  Katie French

  Contents

  Supernatural Academy Map

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  SNEAK PEEK OF JUNIOR WITCH

  Please Review

  About the Author - Ingrid Seymour

  Also by Ingrid Seymour

  About the Author - Katie French

  Also by Katie French

  Supernatural Academy Map

  Chapter One

  FALL SEMESTER

  EARLY SEPTEMBER

  I held Rowan’s cold, lifeless body in my arms as the tears streamed down my face.

  There had to be some magic that could reverse what had just happened. I couldn’t believe he would now and forever be…

  A vampire.

  Cursed. Hated. Shunned.

  Answorth hovered over me, wringing his hands as the chaos continued around us. People shrieked and called out. The fountain trickled in the background, the smell of its treated water stuck in my nose. Macgregor was still shouting at Dean McIntosh, while the magic lights burned in the night sky. Crowds of my stunned classmates looked on, horrified.

  Standing hunched over and looking like he might faint at any second, Answorth’s eyes darted from father to son. He spoke, more to himself than to me.

  “It was the only way, I swear. He would’ve died.”

  Answorth appeared near dead himself, having only just escaped Henderson’s control. What that sinister spell master put Answorth through, I could only guess. But then, Answorth was a vampire. No heartbeat in his chest. Could he feel pain like the rest of us?

  Was Rowan doomed to the same fate? His body was the same ice-cold temperature of the fountain water and his chest didn’t rise and fall with struggling breaths. Was that normal for vampires? I didn’t know anything.

  God, this was all my fault. If I hadn’t taken him out of the infirmary… If I’d just listened to Nurse Taishi… Henderson had tricked me, used me. What a fool I was. How could I live with myself if Rowan…

  I cradled him in my arms as my wet hair dripped onto his lifeless face.

  “Rowan, please, please wake up,” I said. “Please be okay.”

  As if he’d heard me, his eyelids fluttered. Chocolate-brown eyes focused on my face. Oh, God. He’s awake! Relief soothed my aching heart like a salve.

  “Charlie,” he said weakly. Then he winced, arching his back. “It burns!”

  “What? What burns?”

  My eyes scanned his body for wounds, but his skin appeared pristine. The dark blue veins, the visible markers of the unbreakable curse he’d been afflicted with, were gone. The spot where Henderson’s magic struck his chest—that deadly attack that had been intended for me, but had been blocked by Rowan as he acted like a human shield—was only a faded red splotch.

  Still, Rowan writhed against me like his very blood was boiling. He gripped my arm, his eyes pleading. “Charlie, help… me.”

  Oh, God. What could I do? I urged my cuffs to help, but they wouldn’t respond to my call for magic. I had nothing.

  I grabbed Answorth’s pant leg and shook it. “He’s in pain. Do something!”

  He stared down in pity. “There’s nothing to be done, I’m afraid. The change is very painful. At least, he’s not dead.” He gave a half shrug that made me want to punch him in his pale face.

  Rowan’s mouth twisted up in pure torment. It gutted me. I pushed damp hair off his forehead, feeling useless.

  “Hang on, Rowan.” I turned to Answorth. “How long does it last?”

  “Only twenty-four to thirty-six hours.”

  “Thirty-six hours?!” Now I really was going to punch him.

  Someone stormed over, blocking out the light spells that illuminated this whole mess. In an instant, Macgregor Underwood was there, waving his hands. In another, he and Rowan were gone.

  I stared down at my empty lap in shock. “Where did he go?”

  Dean McIntosh was the one to appear beside me and answer my question. She looked as exhausted as I felt.

  “Macgregor took him, Charlie. They went home.”

  “But I… I…”

  “I know you’re concerned, but I assure you, Dean Underwood will take good care of his son. Now, please. We should get you looked at.”

  “But… no. I need to be there. I can help.” I stood, trying to charge my cuffs, but nothing happened.

  However, very powerful magic did ignite beside me. Dean McIntosh’s hands glowed a shimmery purple as she stared me down with a no-nonsense expression on her face.

  “Now, I really must insist that you head with Nurse Taishi to the infirmary to be checked out. You’ve suffered greatly tonight and there’s no telling what kind of damage has been done, both physically and mentally. I’ll also be sending my sister to you as soon as she is located.”

  Another counseling session and an unwelcomed happy spell from Irmagard? No, this was not how it was going to go down. I opened my mouth to protest but realized I had no idea what I was dealing with. Dean McIntosh’s magic felt hella strong and my cuffs didn’t seem to be pumping out the juice they normally did.

  I lowered my hands but didn’t budge. “Where is Henderson?”

  “You flung him halfway across campus. He hit a fence and is dead.” Her face was still, but not emotionless. I could tell this information pained her, though I wasn’t exactly sure why.

  “Good,” I said, venom in my voice. “He killed Georgia. He almost killed Rowan and me. He kept Answorth prisoner. And there’s probably more.”

  Dean McIntosh nodded, her tired eyes dipping down in what seemed to be sadness. “It’s a shame he made such horrible choices. He was a very talented young man.”

  Talented young man? She sounded like she was on his side.

  “There’s more,” I said. “When I disappeared, the fountain took me somewhere. A mausoleum. Two people were waiting for Henderson. He’s part of a bigger plot.”

  Dean McIntosh’s brow wrinkled. “I suspected as much, but I’d like to hear every detail of what you saw when you are up to it. Now, if you’ll proceed to the infirmary.” She held out a firm arm as if she were no longer playing around and meant business. Even in her robe and slippers, she was formidable.

  “Fine,” I said, pouting like a little child. “But I want Disha to go with me.” I had scanned the crowd for my friend and didn’t see her.

  “She’s already there, waiting for you,” Dean McIntosh replied. This woman thought of everything.

  Fatigue settling in my bones, I gave the fountain, and the spot where Rowan had been, another glance before turning away.

  The memory spell faded and I came to in my dorm room, yet I could still feel the raw emotion of it. Clutching my chest, I fell back on the bare mattress of my new dorm roo
m in Sophomore Hall.

  This room was a bit smaller than the last, the bed and dresser a bit more battered, but it wasn’t a homeless shelter, so it was perfect. Plus, I still barely owned anything, despite Disha and the Dean’s best efforts, so all my items fit perfectly in the tiny closet and small pine dresser. Trey’s urn dominated the left side of my dresser. At least I’d managed to bring him along on all of my travels.

  Still, it was hard to be back on campus with all the memories flooding back. I’d only just arrived, hadn’t even unpacked, and was already torturing myself with visions of my last day at the Academy.

  The last time I saw Rowan Underwood.

  That night, after Nurse Taishi checked me over and pronounced me good to go, Counselor McIntosh had arrived in striped pajamas and a matching nightcap, a quaint outfit straight out of a Charles Dickens movie. She’d fretted over me for a bit, then proceeded to dose me with one of her good-time spells where nothing mattered and all I could feel was joy. Just what I had feared.

  While I was in that fantastic mood, she’d informed me that, right that minute, she was whisking me away to her beet farm in Idaho. That I would continue my studies with her and finish my semester that way. She assured me a little one-on-one tutoring would do me good.

  And who was I to argue?

  The rest had been a whirlwind of transportation spells and an old ramshackle farmhouse with crops as far as the eye could see. I spent all summer pulling weeds and asking when I’d be allowed to leave, but, surprise, surprise, they’d all decided it was unsafe to allow me and my magic cuffs to roam free.

  They’d plotted it all out and trapped me in the middle of nowhere with a crazy lady whose idea of baths was rubbing patchouli oil around in her armpits.

  And, also unsurprisingly, my cuffs didn’t work. Something about the beets, Irmagard had murmured before lathering herself with suntan oil, tucking her ferret under her chin and splaying herself across an old rattan lounge chair right in the middle of the weedy yard. For my part, I suspected the entire farm had some powerful blocking spell on it, though I never found out the truth.

  So, beets, dusty magic books, and Irmagard, who I’d gotten to know very well. In fact, I’d seen enough of her fluffy, gray armpit hair this summer to fill two lifetimes.

  Yeah, not exactly the summer break I’d been picturing.

  I had spoken to Disha a few times a week on Irmagard’s ancient rotary phone. She’d kept me informed on the goings-on, letting me know that it was pretty clear to everyone that I was being punished for my part in the fountain incident. She’d gotten in a heap of trouble with her parents, too, when they’d been informed she’d “attacked a teacher.” Luckily for everyone, Taishi hadn’t been hurt.

  Rowan, of course, had been.

  No one knew where he was, not even Disha’s well-connected father. No one had seen Rowan or Macgregor all summer. Disha’s father had confirmed, however, that the school’s bylaws forbid vampires from attending the Academy. Apparently, they’d done some terrible things in the early 1900s and had been banned as a species forever, along with other Lessers, for good measure.

  Answorth had been stripped of his professorship, even though it was proven he’d only stolen that one magical item the same day we’d found him in the forest. And he’d only attacked me out of sheer desperation since he’d not fed in some time.

  So, weeds, a ferret, and sporadic phone calls had been my summer. What a difference a year made. I’d gone from homeless kid to witch to prisoner to—

  Knuckles pounded on wood, drawing me out of the swirling vortex that was my thoughts.

  I strode across my barren room and opened the door.

  Disha practically fell on me, twirled around, and slammed the door behind her.

  “What the hell?” I asked.

  “She’s coming. Shh. Don’t say a word.” She gripped the door handle and pressed her ear to the crack.

  “Well, hello to you, too,” I said. “Who is ‘she’? And why are we hiding?”

  “Bridget and shh.” She put a finger over her ruby-red lips.

  “Who’s Bridget?” I whispered, putting my ear to the door beside her.

  Disha gave me a bug-eyed stare. “Bridget is my roommate.”

  “Your what?” I replied loudly.

  Last year, Disha had occupied a single room, paid and royally furnished by dear old daddy and his big bucks. I couldn’t imagine what had happened between then and now. Was campus so full that everyone was doubling up? Whoever ended up with me would have a rude awakening since my room was barely bigger than a broom closet.

  “Disha, how did you end up with a roommate?”

  A moment later, a fist pounded on the door, startling both of us.

  “Deela? Is that you?” a shrill female voice called.

  “Shit,” Disha whispered, darting to my closet. “Tell her I’m not here.”

  “Deela?” I asked. “Does she not know your name?”

  Disha waved a hand at me. “She’s a transfer student. Now, shh.” She ducked into my tiny closet and pulled the curtain closed.

  Lord, just what I needed, to deceive the new girl on the first day.

  Carefully, I constructed my lie and a confused expression, then opened the door.

  A flurry of curly, red hair and waving hands greeted me as a girl pushed past. “Are you Charlie? Boy, I’ve heard a lot about you. Where’s Deela?”

  I stared at her, taken aback. What exactly had she heard about me on her first day? Were rumors already that rampant? Students knew I’d killed Henderson, the evil professor with the nefarious plans, though the exact reason was left untold, which was probably why rumors had grown and spread like a fungus. Disha had heard rumors consisting of anything from my allegiance to a vampire coven, to a secret sex cult gone awry.

  I fake smiled at the new girl. “Bridget, is it? Disha is not here, but she told me to tell you to head to the cafeteria without her. She’s got a bad case of the green apple quick step if you know what I mean.”

  Disha would kill me for saying that, but it was payback for making me the bad guy.

  Bridget barraged me with questions as I gently guided her to the door. I managed to dodge all of them except the one about me being in league with the water nymphs, which I laughed at and denied.

  Then I “helped” her out of my room.

  “Thanks for coming. Nice to meet you. See you soon,” I said, trying to shut the door, but I stopped short as my eyes traveled over her shoulder to the figure walking down the hallway. My heart stuttered in my chest as I took in those deep brown eyes.

  Rowan was back.

  Chapter Two

  FALL SEMESTER

  EARLY SEPTEMBER

  “Rowan!”

  I struggled past Bridget, but she was stuck on her water nymphs rumor and pegged me with questions while blocking my path. I tried slipping around her, but each time she blocked my way, her bright green eyes wide with unasked questions, her raincloud of red hair obstructing my view.

  “Is Rowan the vampire?” she asked with glee. “I heard all about him. Boy, people are ma-ad they’re allowing him back in school.” She drew the word out like a child tattling on her younger sibling.

  Wait. They were allowing Rowan back in school? That was great news! I needed to ask him what had changed, but she just kept occupying my doorway.

  “Could you please move?” I asked, trying to slip the other way.

  I ducked under her arm and squeezed between her body and the doorframe. She called after me, but I ignored her, my mind on one thing.

  But when I ran down the hallway, following after Rowan, he had disappeared.

  I stared down the rows of closed doorways, searching for a retreating shape, but didn’t see one. Why would he come up here only to vanish the minute I headed his way? Was I hallucinating from that memory spell?

  Scanning right and left, a commotion drew my attention to one of the hallway windows that peered down on the green.

  The Sophomore
Dorm had the distinction of being one of the oldest buildings on campus. It was creaky, leaky and supposedly haunted, but it was one of the closest to the campus’ main entrance and the administration building. My window was above the circular drive where most parents parked to unload their children’s luggage. I expected to see happy families moving their kids in.

  What I didn’t expect was a massive protest.

  At least one hundred people, students, and adults stood on or near the steps of the administration building. Some held signs, others conjured words above their head. One person had magicked their voice, making it boom out across campus.

  “We say no to Lessers! Keep our school safe.”

  These people were here protesting Lessers? Because of Rowan? Was that what Bridget meant?

  A big, purple smoke bomb exploded above everyone’s heads, revealing words that hung large enough for everyone on the grounds to read.

  “No vamps on campus!”

  A head appeared above the smoke. Shimmery and purple, it trembled in the breeze, but it was clear who they were depicting. Rowan’s face hung above the crowd. To drive their point home, they’d given him long, blood-stained fangs and a feral expression.

  As I watched, a slash cut through it, tearing it in two.

  My hand flew to my mouth. Were these people mad? No wonder Rowan had disappeared. He was probably hiding out, hoping his head didn’t end up on a pike.

  Rage building in my gut, I jogged along the corridor, down the flight of stairs, and burst outside. Then I made a beeline for the protestors.