Bridget jumped up, her eyes wide. “Because they tried to do what the Academy did and let Supernatural creatures in with the rest. A student supposedly died from a werewolf bite and the board tried to cover it up, but obviously, the news got out, so they had to close.” Bridget spat it all out in one breath, exasperated and shaking her head. The glow went out of her eyes as she bit the sleeve of her neon green jumpsuit jacket.
I frowned thinking how similar that story was to our own Academy. We’d had enough terrible incidents here to warrant a shutdown if the right parties got their panties in a twist. Yet, the board of regents and the deans had always worked it out. Now, with the two most powerful deans no longer with us, what chance did we stand at staying open if something awful were to happen?
Slim to none.
At the least, they would make the Academy get rid of all new students, and that wouldn’t be right.
“You guys,” I said, making sure they saw the severity of my gaze before continuing, “I know the current deans told me to take care of the gnomes, but I think our real priority is making sure something like what happened at Merryweather does not happen here. Any one incident and we could be shut down, too. I cannot let that happen.”
“Me, neither,” Bridget agreed. “I do not want to go work for my parents. I did enough of that this summer. Gag me with a pitchfork if I have to teach Oprah one more protection spell.”
I blinked at her comment, but Disha bowled right past it without even a raised eyebrow.
“I’m in, too,” she said. “Being home for four months really solidified my need for several states between me and my parents. Plus, if the Academy shuts down, the next closest school is in Canada. Alberta.” She gave an inward shiver, probably thinking about the chill, as well as how her beautiful body would have to be stuffed into large parkas and ski masks.
“So, it’s settled,” I said, placing my fist determinedly on the tabletop. “Team Witch Squad will make sure the school stays safe and open.”
“And get some pants on those gnomes,” Bridget added, pointing a triumphant finger in the air.
“And still go to parties?” Disha asked with a flip of her hair.
I shrugged and then nodded. “Some.”
“Alright, Charlie’s Angel,” Disha quipped with a smirk. “What about matching T-shirts? Outfits? I know a guy who does amazing things with leather.”
“No!” Bridget and I shouted in unison. Visions of her catsuit floated in my imagination. There was no way I was wearing anything close to that.
Disha stood up, checking her lip gloss in the full-length mirror beside her bed. “Anyway, we have to go. Our first class starts in half an hour and we need to get all the way to the Spells cave.”
“All the way to the Spells cave? It’s right next door,” I reminded her.
“Not in these shoes it’s not,” she said.
We collected our book bags and headed out to the cave, a place I knew well by now. I thought of the last time I had been there, the day I spread Trey’s ashes into the pool at the waterfall’s base. My heart hitched a bit as we passed the shimmering pond, now frothy and turbulent from the water crashing into it.
The scene was much changed from that somber time last semester. The flowering vines were awake with new vibrant colors and the delicate wisps burned bright gold, flitting around the cave’s high ceiling like ariel jellyfish as the water thundered down the rocky cliff. The air smelled of new life, new beginnings.
The cave was no longer in mourning, and I shouldn’t be either, but my eyes still darted toward the pool as we passed in a throng of students hurrying to get to class.
Trey, I haven’t forgotten you. I never will.
When we got into the auditorium-style classroom, it was packed. Since the entrance opened on the top ring of stone seats, we got a view of everything below. The place was packed except for a few spots here and there. It appeared there were a lot more new students from Merryweather than I’d thought.
When Dr. Henderson was the Spells teacher during Freshman year, Disha always insisted we sit up front. Last year, when Professor Gorgon took over, Disha had sat us at least four rows back so that the severe sight of the professor’s facial boils, as she extolled the benefits of finger placement, could be blurred by distance. Gorgon, at her ripe old age of one hundred and fifteen, had not been quite as tantalizing to my boy-crazy friend.
This year, Disha tried to rush us to the front again. I realized she believed Professor Fedorov would be teaching us, given that he was last year’s junior-level Spell’s teacher and our Defensive Magic Tutor. What I hadn’t told her yet was that he was off hunting for Dean McIntosh.
As we searched for three seats together, I tried to tell her, but, before I could, she yanked Bridget and me toward the only feasible row, the second from the front, and plopped us down. The hard stone turned squishy beneath our bottoms as we settled ourselves and waited for the professor.
Glancing around, my eye caught the three other students occupying our row, three stunning individuals whom I’d never seen before.
The first had short, pure white hair that fell messily around his long, pointed ears. His cheekbones and chin were thin and angular, giving him an almost feminine beauty, though something told me he was male. His clothes were normal—a stylish black coat and jeans—but he wore ancient rings on his fingers and a silver moon earing in his right ear. And, when he flashed me an unwelcome look, I could see his eyes were entirely pale blue, no pupil or iris to be found, just a glacial hunk of unyielding ice behind long white lashes.
The girl beside him had a similar appearance, slight in build with the same angular facial features. Her hair was long and green, cascading around her slim shoulders and tumbling down her back, reminding me of long ropes of seaweed. With skin only a slightly lighter shade of green, she stood out the most among the three. The faun horns poking out of her head gave her away, too. She wore a thin slip of a dress that left almost nothing to the imagination and appeared to be constructed entirely of items from the forest floor.
The third was also male with long, furry ears that curled at the tips. He had reddish gold hair, plaited into many braids that fell between his shoulder blades and combined into one thick rope of hair. His eyes were a greenish yellow and slitted like a cat’s which might also explain his feline appearance.
They were beautiful and strange, like exotic birds, and I couldn’t stop staring.
“They’re fae folk. They’re new,” Bridget whispered far too loud.
At this, all three snapped their strange eyes in our direction. The looks on their faces could kill. No wonder this row was empty. Everyone in this room must be afraid of them.
I didn’t feel afraid. I felt sorry for them. How horrible must it be standing out that much, especially on your first day. Add to that the fact that they were Supernatural creatures in a school that had barely started accepting them, and who still had many prejudiced students lurking about, and it was no wonder they were hostile.
I tried a warm smile and a small wave.
The male and female closest to me returned the greeting with a sneer. The female even flashed small, white teeth, as sharp and pointed as a shark’s before turning away from me.
The third, however, the one with the soft looking red hair, let his gaze linger on mine for a moment. His cat eyes seemed to take my measure and peer right through me.
Heat traveled up my neck as his eyes lingered on my face and slid down my body.
One corner of his ruby red lips curled up and he gave me a nod.
Flushed, I dropped my eyes, feeling the electric heat inflame my face.
Disha gripped my hand and squeezed. “Forget Mason. That forest hottie should be your new obsession.”
“Stop,” I said, dragging my hand away. Boys were not my interest this year. Class was.
However, when, as expected, Professor Fedorov failed to appear and his replacement rushed in twenty minutes late, it seemed that I might be doing my own sp
ells teaching this year.
The sub turned out to be a graduate-level teaching assistant by the name of Ramona Bruan. And it became clear in ten minutes that she knew less than Disha, Bridget or I had by the end of our Freshman year. She fumbled some introductions and told us to read along with her as she recited the words from Chapter One.
Disha flashed an exasperated eye roll my way and began texting her boyfriend. Bridget fell asleep, snoring so loudly I had to wake her up twice.
I was relieved when the class finished. If this was any indication of how Irmagard though the school should run, we were in big trouble.
But, at least there were no gnomes. God, that reminded me I was scheduled to tend to them after dinner. Heavens help me.
As we were filtering out to leave, Disha and Bridget were making dinner plans. I was about to interject about how much I wanted tacos when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
When I turned around, the fae with the cat eyes extended his hand to shake.
Long slender fingers ended in sharp fingernails that resembled claws. They were both beautiful and dangerous, a lot like his kind was supposed to be.
He continued to hold his hand out to me, waiting patiently with a friendly smile on his impish face. “I’m Sinasre. You are?”
His voice was accented, though from nowhere I could place. When he spoke, I saw his enlarged canines, very feral and mysterious indeed.
I slid my hand into his, trying to hide the tremor in my grip. Nervous energy coursed through me, though I couldn’t understand why. Maybe it was because the room had gone deadly silent as everyone watched us. The biggest culprits were his two friends, waiting for him at the aisle’s end and giving me a death stare.
Apparently, they didn’t like the fact that he was fraternizing with humans.
“I… I’m Charlie,” I stammered.
“Char-lie.” He spoke it as if it were a name in a foreign tongue. “It’s nice to meet you, Char-lie. Myself and my friends, Lancer and Iname,” he pointed to the fae currently plotting my death, “are new here. We were hoping to meet some students, but it seems the hospitality is…” he glanced around, “lacking.”
I wondered vaguely if that might have anything to do with the fact that Lancer and Iname looked like they wanted to eat everyone, but didn’t think bringing that up now was a good idea.
“We’re… um, very friendly,” I said, gesturing to Disha and Bridget behind me. When I looked back, they were staring, dumbfounded as if Sinasre and I had begun spouting fire out of our many orifices.
I elbowed Disha and she broke out of her stupor. “Hi. Disha here. Lovely eyes. Are they real?” She pointed at his face awkwardly until I slapped her hands away.
If Sinasre was offended, he didn’t show it. “We’re throwing a modest gathering tonight in the forest. I’d like to extend an invitation to you three.”
Behind Sinasre, the female, who I believed was Iname, flinched. Lancer kept on glaring.
“That’s… very kind of you,” I began. “You see, there’s this thing with some gnomes and I don’t really know…”
“We’ll be there,” Disha said, butting in. “Text us the time and place.”
As she handed out her number, I stared at her back, wondering what in the hell she was doing. Going to a fae folk party with at least two who appeared to think we were idiots at best, dinner at worst, seemed like the last thing we should do.
But then Sinasre, glanced around Disha and spoke directly to me. “Looking forward to seeing you, Char-lie.”
As he walked lithely away, I stared at my shoes, battling with the weird thudding of my heart. There was absolutely no reason I should be feeling as I did.
Like I… Like I had a crush.
Disha whirled around, dusting off her hands as if she’d just done a good day's work.
When the fae were safely out of earshot, I grabbed her elbow. “Why in the name of Morgana did you tell them we were going for? Did you see the looks the other two were giving us?”
“Oh, please. They’re just jealous. And besides, I’ve made my new life’s mission to get you laid this year, so you can stop pining over Rowan.”
When my eyes bugged out, she laughed and took my arm. “Oh, baby girl. Someday you will thank me.”
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About the Author - Ingrid Seymour
Ingrid Seymour is a USA Today Bestselling young adult author. When she’s not writing books, she spends her time working as a software engineer, cooking exotic recipes, hanging out with her family and working out. She writes young adult in a variety of genres, including Sci-Fi, urban fantasy, romance, paranormal and horror.
Her favorite outings involve a trip to the library or bookstore where she immediately gravitates toward the YA section. She’s an avid reader and fangirl of many amazing books. Potterhead, anyone? She is a dreamer and a fighter who believes perseverance and hard work can make dreams come true.
Visit her online and get a free book at:
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Also by Ingrid Seymour
The Morphid Chronicles
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About the Author - Katie French
Katie French is an author of Young Adult sci fi romance. Her book, The Breeders, has had over 100,000 downloads and counting and was a semi-finalist in the 2014 Kindle Book Awards. She also has a kids series starting with Portia Parrots and the Great Kitten Rescue for ages 5-9.
She works as a high school English teacher. In her free time, she writes manically, reads great books, and takes care of her three beautiful and crazy children. She aspires to spend as much time in yoga pants as possible.
You can join her mailing list at www.katiefrenchbooks.com and receive TWO FREE full-length novels.
Contact her at [email protected].
Also by Katie French
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Supernatural Academy: Sophomore Witch Page 25
