I lay a hand on his cheek, pushed to my tiptoes and kissed him gently. He pulled me in his arms, pressing his cheek against mine. There was such tenderness in his embrace that I felt I might melt into a puddle at his feet. I embraced him back, my arms wrapping around his waist.
“You’re... something, Charlie Rivera. Only you would… care for a vampire after he almost ripped a guy to shreds,” he said in my ear. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Okay, I could be excused if I melted, right?
We kissed then and, unlike before, it was tender, thoughtful, and far more intimate.
Hand in hand, we walked back to the Sophomore Dorm. The knowledge that he was hiding something kept gnawing at me. Whatever he was up to couldn’t be good, not when he thought I needed to be protected from it.
I cursed inwardly. I wanted to demand the truth from him, but I knew that wasn’t going to work. Maybe he was trying to protect me, but maybe it was just trust issues. Last Christmas, I’d only learned about his curse by accident. And he’d never told anyone his plan to become a vampire as a way to save his life from that awful magic.
Rowan walked me to my door and kissed me tenderly.
“Good night, Charlie,” he said, his forehead resting on mine.
“I thought maybe you’d like to come inside... for a bit.” I wasn’t thinking of sex. It was too soon for that, but I’d been looking forward to our next make-out session.
“Shame on you,” he said in a playful tone. “It’s against the rules for an opposite gender student to be in someone else’s room after hours.”
“I think the rules have been our bitches enough times that once more won’t matter.”
He chuckled. “Mmm...” He inhaled and licked his lips. “It’s tempting, but not a good idea. My spells are wearing out, remember?” Cocking his head to one side, Rowan pulled away, looking as disappointed as I felt. “We’ll break this particular rule, though. Soon.”
Still holding my hand, he started to back away. We drank each other in, our fingers reaching, reaching until contact broke.
He finally turned and headed to his room. I opened my door and went it, trying very hard to trust him, to believe he wasn’t planning anything drastic again.
An hour passed with me lying in bed, fighting to go to sleep as I pictured Rowan’s nearly naked body ascending the platform ladder a few more times than I’d like to admit. I’d almost given up sleep altogether when my thoughts finally settled, and I started to drift away.
The cuffs pulsed. My eyes sprang open.
I sat up, my gaze immediately darting toward the window. I walked up to it and peeked out. The lawn and the circular driveway were empty, lampposts casting a warm light into the night. My alarm clock read midnight.
The witching hour.
And, apparently, the vampir-ing hour, too.
Rowan was hurrying down the sidewalk.
Where was he going? Maybe to his father for a spell renewal, but at this hour? And if that was all, why had the cuffs flashed a warning?
Without thinking, I stuffed my feet into my tennis shoes and opened the window—no time to go through the front door. I was wearing only a white tank top and a pair of pajama shorts, but there was no time to change either or I’d lose him. I climbed down the brick and landed on the other side, with a little help from a quick levitating spell. The bushes at the foot of the window got their little branchy claws out and attempted to scratch me, but I pushed them away with a distracted wave of my hand, my attention locked on the figure now disappearing around the bend.
I almost took off running after him, then remembered his supernatural senses. He would hear me and smell me right away, unless…
Sweeping my arms in a circle, I created a barrier around me. It was a cloaking spell that wouldn’t let attacks in and would keep me hidden. Satisfied, I went after Rowan.
When I turned the corner, he was gone, not a trace left behind. I rolled my eyes, fearing this super speed thing was going to get old very soon. Now what?
But I knew what… I knew where.
Heeding my instincts, I ran toward the lake.
When I got there, I found that everything was as it had been earlier: fairy lights dancing against the canopy of the trees, the diving platform, the large mushrooms—only the students were missing. Everyone must’ve dispersed after Rowan almost killed senior pee-pee pants.
Yet, someone was here. A pile of clothes by the shore confirmed I’d been right. Rowan had gone back in the lake.
Was it my fault? It felt like my fault. I’d told him I’d seen something at the bottom, perhaps what he’d been looking for while he was down there so long and, now with more time to search, he intended to find it.
I stared at the dark surface of the water. The floating lights reflected on it, twinkling like multi-colored Christmas lights. I waited, taking deep breaths and telling myself Rowan didn’t need oxygen like I did. And, dammit, why hadn’t I learned a breathing underwater spell, yet? And did gillyweed even exist? Probably not. I would wait for him, he would come out and I would make him tell me exactly what he was up to.
A biting, burning pain suddenly squeezed my wrists. My heart raced, hammering out of control.
Something was wrong with Rowan. I had no idea how I knew, but I could just feel it.
Wading into the water, I was about to jump in when I realized that would be a waste of time. It would take me forever to swim to the bottom. So, I focused on the platform, centered my energy with a deep inhale, then pushed downward with both hands.
Like that first time I’d attempted to levitate in Henderson’s class, I shot out of the water and, to my dismay, well past the platform. Arms flailing, I kept rising until I reached the apex of my ascent and started plummeting.
I freaked out and was about to thrust my arms downward again to stop my fall when I realized this was exactly what I wanted.
Pinching my nose, I pressed my legs together and closed my eyes.
There was a rush of air that whipped my hair upward, then I hit the water, my feet breaking the surface first. The lake swallowed me, encasing me in its folds.
I opened my eyes to utter darkness. Bubbles tickled their way up my face. I fell for an eternity before my feet hit bottom. As soon as I landed, I put my hands out, channeling a spell. Light sprouted from my cuffs, managing to illuminate my pitch black surroundings for about six feet in every direction. Weeds floated lazily around me. Bubbles floated up, mocking me on their way to the surface. Mud churned up from the bottom making it hard to see.
Frantically, I whirled around, trying to peer past my sphere of light.
Which way? I thought in desperation as my lungs began to hurt.
The cuff on my left wrist gave a slight tug. I pushed off the ground and started swimming in that direction.
Just when I started doubting I was going the right way, I caught sight of movement. I pressed forward, spotting a pair of legs. They were kicking violently, the water and muck churning around, while the rest of the body seemed buried in a tangle of tentacle-like weeds.
Rowan!
As he kicked, I snatched one of his ankles and tried to pull him out. It didn’t help. Instead, the weeds roiled and sucked him in deeper like octopus tentacles intent on a meal. I stared upward, aching for air as my lungs screamed for it.
Damn! I really needed to learn a spell for breathing underwater.
No matter. Irmagard had taught me a blasting spell.
Waving my hands in the right pattern, I let my energy gather. I was about to blast the shit out of the weeds when I decided I should wait and make it count. I was out of oxygen, and going back to the surface was out of the question. Rowan was certainly in pain. I held on for a few more seconds, my entire body clamoring for air.
Then I let go.
A wide column of brilliant golden magic ejected from my hands and struck the weeds. An explosion followed, the blast of water striking me full in the chest, propelling me outward.
A scream ripped fro
m my chest and water flooded my lungs as I tumbled away head over heels.
Then I knew nothing more.
Chapter Six
FALL SEMESTER
EARLY SEPTEMBER
I awoke retching and coughing up lake water all over myself. Gasping for precious air, I rolled onto my side and sucked deep lungfuls of the stuff as Rowan knelt beside me.
“Charlie, oh, God. You’re breathing. Jesus.” He ran a trembling hand through his wet hair and talked a mile a minute. “I saw the glow of your cuffs, but when I got to you I thought you were done for.”
I gagged again, coughing and sputtering water. So much for our first date night. Could it have gone any worse?
“I’m… fine,” I said, my voice a harsh whisper.
“Hardly. Why did you do it? I told you, I don’t need air. You could have died!” His face oscillated between total panic and frustration as he stared down at me.
It took me a while to answer as I was still trying to breathe. My body felt waterlogged and my lungs were soaked. I’d swallowed water and passed out on the bottom and if Rowan hadn’t saved me again, I would be dead.
I was really living on the edge.
“Thank you,” I said, weakly, lying back on the gritty sand on the lake’s shore.
Rowan shook his head as if he didn’t want my thanks. “When I saw you at the bottom…” His eyes cast out over the water as his face darkened.
“Look, you can’t pin this on me,” I said, sitting up on my elbows as they dug into the sand. “You snuck out. You know I can’t do secrets, Rowan. If you try keeping me out again, I can’t guarantee my own safety.” A smirk spread across my trembling lips.
“God, Charlie, this isn’t a time for jokes.”
“Tough crowd,” I murmured wiping lake water from my eyes. “In all seriousness, I mean it. We are bound together. You cannot hide things from me.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, falling back on his knees. “I knew the water was dangerous and I knew you didn’t know a spell to breathe underwater, but would still insist on going. Besides, those things could’ve held me all night and I would still be fine. Or… whatever it is I am these days.” He gestured to his body.
“And what if I hadn’t seen you sneak out, and you were forced to live the rest of eternity stuck inside those weeds? Did you consider that possibility? Huh?”
He rolled his eyes. “Like that would happen, but, okay, I won’t hide things from you anymore.”
“Good, because I really dislike near-death experiences. And that stupid lake.”
He gave a laugh. Finally.
“What were those things?” I asked, remembering the watery plant tentacles that had held him.
“They’re defensive spells. Animated plants. Someone really didn’t want us going down there.”
“Was it worth it?” I asked, sitting up and tugging at the white tank top that was now revealing far too much. “Did you find what they were guarding?”
A big smile spread across his face as he held up his fist. In it, a corroded metal object dangled from a chain.
“What is it?” I asked.
He turned it over in his palm. “I didn’t stop to look at it as I was too busy saving your life. Let’s see.”
Together, we leaned over the item. Rowan brushed lake muck and grit off it with gentle fingers. The item was a four-inch square with a rounded top and a hinge at one side. He found a clasp and pulled it open. Inside was a waterlogged compass with a blue face and gold lettering around the edges. The black hands that spun to tell the direction were frozen in place, probably broken from who knew how much time spent underwater.
“Oh, it’s ruined,” I said, touching it gently. As I did, a pulse of magic zapped my fingertips and my cuffs flashed in response. “Did you feel that?”
Rowan took the compass in his hands carefully. For a moment, nothing happened, but then he grabbed his chest as if injured.
“What?” I asked, my worry spiking.
“It’s…” He placed his hand to his wet T-shirt and paused. Then he grabbed my hand and pressed it to his sternum.
At first, I felt nothing but damp fabric and the sexy muscles beneath. Then something stuttered, a few beats against my palm before stopping.
Our eyes met and held.
“Rowan,” I whispered.
His smile spread wider. “My heart.”
“Is that normal?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. Never. Not since Answorth.”
That realization fell over us like a splash of cold water.
Rowan gripped my hand, a hesitant excitement in his eyes. “Could the rumors be true?”
“The ones you heard about the lake?”
He nodded. “I heard there might be an item here that could help my condition.”
Help his condition? What did that mean exactly? And where did he hear these rumors? Did it even matter if this item could help him?
“What if this could reverse the transformation?” He glanced wistfully at the compass.
I touched it carefully. “All that from this? What is it?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, but it’s mine now.” He said this, looking a bit too much like Smeagol from Lord of the Rings. I half expected him to stroke it and call it Precious.
“Do you think we should show it to Dean McIntosh or maybe your… dad?”
“No,” he said quickly. “They might take it away.”
I swallowed hard. I knew exactly what this felt like. When the cuffs chose me last year, the administration had tried to take them away, but, lucky for me, they were irremovable. However, if they had been able to, I would’ve fought tooth and nail. They were mine. They changed things for me, which was exactly what this compass might do for Rowan.
“Let’s think it over and talk about it in the morning,” I said, gripping his hand.
We walked back, both wet and exhausted, but happy. The warm glow in my chest had nothing to do with magic this time. Maybe he could be healed. Maybe we’d just solved all our problems in one fell swoop.
That night, we went to bed feeling at ease, our hopes stoked by this amazing find.
But, of course, life never worked out the way we wanted it to and a few days after finding the compass, Rowan was back to his despondent attitude, his hopes dashed. No matter what he tried on the compass—spells, cleaning, and praying—it wouldn’t work. He couldn’t get the same results he had at the lake, and his optimism faded into a sour disappointment that was somehow worse than before we learned of the compass.
Later that week, sitting in the quad during a break between classes, I pleaded with him once more.
“Let’s go to your dad. He’s been all ‘Team Rowan’ lately. I really think he can help us.”
Rowan shook his head, squinting through sunglasses into the afternoon glare. Even though he wore a protective spell to allow him to be out on this gloriously hot day, the sun still bothered him.
Around us, our classmates carried on, unaware of our current struggles. A group of girls was laying out on towels, improving their tan, while a team of guys kicked a soccer ball down the green. Just as it was about to sail into the net, a spell caught it from the side and flung it away, and a string of protests and curse words flooded the air.
Had I ever been that carefree? Me, with the alcoholic father and the dying mother. That was a big fat nope.
“We can’t go to my dad,” Rowan said, watching the soccer argument with only passing interest. “My dad has been preoccupied as of late with phone calls and letters calling for my immediate removal. If I bring another problem to him right now, he’ll blow.”
“Then we go to Dean McIntosh. She’s always calm and collected. Not like her sister. Did you know Irmagard sleeps with her ferret in her bed? They share a pillow. That relationship is not normal.” I was trying humor to lighten Rowan’s mood, but it was clearly not working.
“Fine. Let’s go. I’ve got nothing else left to try and the sun is killing me.” He sli
pped the compass in my bag like just having it near him was a source of discomfort.
We walked side-by-side toward the administration building, but I had the feeling that we were on different planets. Suddenly, I found myself wondering if he ever resented me. I had a beating heart that I often took for granted—not to mention magic that he could only borrow.
Up the steps and into the air conditioning, Rowan led the way until we were standing outside of the dean’s office, but the door was closed and voices echoed inside.
“We should come back later,” I said, but Rowan held up a hand and went on listening as if the door posed no obstacle.
“It’s that Bash bastard,” he said with a growl. Then, before I knew what he was doing, he threw open the door and stormed in.
Damn! We were quite a pair.
Sighing, I followed him.
“Rowan, what are you doing in here?” Dean McIntosh said, standing up.
Sebastian Mink whirled around, his eyes lighting up as he saw who was interrupting their meeting. He was dressed as before in a dandy purple velvet suit and matching hat. His mustache was so big and thick it looked like someone should give it a name. His long, pale fingers clutched a slim cane with an ornate golden handle.
“Ah, yes, the famed Rowan Underwood. So glad you can join us. Were your ears burning? We’ve been having a lovely chat all about you.”
“Rowan, you should go,” Dean McIntosh warned, but Rowan squared his shoulders and stalked up to Mink as if he were about to hit him.
“If you have something to say to me, you can say it to my face,” Rowan snapped.
Mink smiled maliciously, leaning back against the dean’s desk as if Rowan’s threatening pose meant nothing to him.
“I have many things to say to you, my boy. Would you like to meet up somewhere to discuss?” Mink’s hand tightened on his ornate walking stick, one that, at second glance, seemed as if it might contain a weapon.
Supernatural Academy: Sophomore Witch Page 5
