Monster Academy for The Magical: (Monster Academy for the Magical, #1)

by Sorensen, Jessica

  I try to recall what Sage referred to them as. A vampire, which is probably Phoenix, at least his fangs suggest so. Sage also mentioned a dark faerie and a death angel.

  “Don’t seem so upset about it,” Phoenix mocks me with a smirk. “Most girls—hell, most creatures would die to be in your position right now.”

  Great. He’s a cocky jerk. Not that I didn’t suspect that already.

  Good thing I’ve dealt with assholes before, built skin of steel to deal with it—to deal with way, way worse stuff. Although, usually, I try to walk away from the situation. Living with the cocky jerk, though… Yeah, I won’t be able to walk away a lot.

  “Good for them.” I cross my arms, hoping I appear more confident than I feel. “But personally, I’d rather just live in a regular dorm room.”

  His ruby eyes glimmer. “Is that so?”

  My heart thunders in my chest, but I remain calm on the outside. “Yep.”

  His smirk widens. “Well, aren’t you just positively delicious?”

  My heart rate quickens. Does he mean that metaphorically?

  "Phoenix, knock it off." The guy with dark hair, grey eyes, and shadows dancing across his skin enters the room—Roman, if I remember correctly.

  He looks different than when I saw him in the throne room, less shadowy.

  Phoenix sinks his fangs into his bottom lip, his gaze remaining welded to me. “What? All I said was that she’s absolutely delicious? Which she is.”

  I fight back the urge to step away from him. “No, I’m not.”

  Clearly, that’s the wrong thing to say, something I learn when Phoenix’s grin broadens.

  “Why don’t you come over here so I can find out for myself?” he purrs, tracing his tongue along the tips of his fangs as he steps closer to me.

  “Um…” Jude clears his throat, startling the hell out of me.

  Shit, I forgot he was here. Maybe because Phoenix was doing that hazing thing to me again?

  I narrow my eyes at Phoenix, but he only grins.

  “Delicious,” he murmurs.

  “I assume you’ve been informed that you’ll be taking Haven under your wing,” Jude says to Phoenix.

  Phoenix doesn’t remove his gaze off of me, even when Roman steps between us.

  “Yes, we’ve been given instructions to take care of her.” Roman steps closer to Jude and Jude’s flames begin to fizzle. “You can go now. We’ll handle it from here.”

  I throw Jude a pleading look—I don’t even know why. It’s not like I’ve known him for very long, but I don’t want to be left alone with these guys. It’s kind of a weird move for me to seek help from someone else, seeing as how I’m used to handling stuff on my own. But this is different. Everything about this time, moment, place is different.

  “Sorry,” Jude mouths to me as he backs toward the door. “If you need anything at all, just send me a message.”

  I gape at him. Is he really leaving me alone with these guys? “On what—”

  Poof.

  Smoke funnels from my palm as a handheld device appears in my hand.

  I blink at it then back at Jude only to find him gone, the smell of singed ash lingering in the air.

  My fingers curl around the handheld device, my pulse soaring. I haven't felt this anxious since the first time I was dropped off at a group home. I was six, and up until then, I had been living in foster homes. I was so terrified of being somewhere different, of the unknown. And on my first day there, I went into a trance while I was being introduced to some of the other kids. That had me instantly labeled a freak, and I was tormented because of it, a couple of girls even cutting off my hair while I slept. I spent days crying to myself about it, which led to even more ridicule and torment. And that made me despise group homes. At least it did then. But as time moved on, and I experienced the darker side of life, I discovered that getting my hair cut off was mild compared to other punishments, and that group homes weren't nearly as bad as I had initially thought. I also learned how to deal with the unknown better, started weaving my skin with that metaphoric steel.

  You can handle this, Haven. It’s just a couple of guys.

  Of course, my little mental pep talk becomes irrelevant as the third party of the Death Triplets strolls into the room—Ollie, I think his name is.

  He doesn’t say anything, his pale gaze simply gobbling me up as he studies me. “You’re very pretty for a maddening,” he states with a hint of curiosity. “Although, I’ve never actually seen one before.”

  “Then how do you know I’m not ugly for one?” I find myself saying, again acting completely out of character for me.

  But I don’t like being assessed this closely. Usually, people look the other way whenever I’m around, like they’re afraid to meet my gaze. The last person I crossed paths with that did make eye contact with me, and for far too long I might add, was Tim.

  I cringe at the reminder of my foster father.

  “Huh, I’ve never seen that before,” Phoenix muses, rubbing his jawline, his gaze skating to Ollie. “She’s completely disgusted with you.”

  Ollie rolls his eyes. “If she’s disgusted, it definitely has to do with you.”

  Phoenix’s bloodstained lips quirk as he steps toward Ollie. “Not likely. Vampires are way too alluring. Dark fey on the other hand…” He flashes his fangs.

  Well, that answers my question about what kind of creatures they are.

  The tips of Ollie’s fingertips spark. Actually freaking spark, like sparklers.

  “Will you two stop arguing for one damn minute and focus on the problem we discussed?” Roman intervenes with heavy annoyance.

  “Oh, yeah, right.” Ollie tears his gaze off of Phoenix, the sparks on his fingers dimming as he looks at me again.

  All of them do.

  I fight back the urge to gulp. “Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

  Ollie lifts a shoulder while Phoenix smirks. And Roman? His gaze darkens, those shadows on his skin appearing.

  "You know, I'm surprised Sage and Mor assigned you to us." Roman steps toward me, his thick boots scuffing against the floor. "Considering my family's history with maddenings." He stops in front of me, and I fight back the urge to step back. "I can't decide if it was intentional, if they wanted to place you with a creature who would instantly hate you, or if they're just stupid. Honestly, with Mor, it could be either. Sage has always seemed smarter than that, though. But maybe she was distracted by Mor."

  Ollie snickers at that and Phoenix elbows him in the side.

  “Dude.” Ollie winces as he targets a dirty look at Phoenix, who simply rolls his eyes.

  “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” Roman demands, hooking his finger underneath my chin and forcing me to look at him.

  That’s when my tongue becomes unstuck from the roof of my mouth. Well, either that or the hazing thing these guys can cause lifts from my mind.

  I jerk my chin away from him, hoping to appear more confident than I feel. “Just because you’re supposed to be guiding me around this school doesn’t mean you can boss me around… I’m tired of being bossed around.”

  A shadow casts across Roman’s face as he leans in, his breath dusting across my face. “I’m sure you are,” he says in a low tone that makes chills break out across my skin. “Your kind usually do most of the bossing around. Almost as much as they like killing other creatures.”

  I sense then that this has more to do with him just being a jerk. He hates my kind for some reason.

  “And I’m not about to let some killer come into my group and hurt my friends,” he adds, anger blazing in his shadowy eyes.

  “I’m not a killer,” I tell him, loathing how shaky my tone has gotten.

  “Liar,” he says lowly. “Your kind always cause pain and death wherever you go.”

  I shake my head, but my thoughts drift to what I did to Tim and Mia.

  I wonder if it’s permanent, if what I did to them will ever wear off.

  “So,
here’s what we’re going to do.” Roman leans away from me, going from intense to calm in the snap of a finger. “We’re going to make sure you never get a chance to hurt anyone.”

  Then he lifts his hand and Ollie and Phoenix move in around me.

  Okay, this is so bad.

  I reel around to run, but Ollie zips around behind me, moving at an inhuman speed.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” He shoves me forward, sending me stumbling into Roman’s arms.

  The force causes me to drop the handheld device Jude gave me, and my backpack falls off my arms.

  Before I can recover, Roman shoves me back, but his fingers wrap around my wrist so I can’t go very far.

  For the briefest moment, I feel like Tim is pinning me down against the floor again. But then I snap out of it and move to kick Roman.

  “Easy,” he warns, blocking my kick. “The more you fight, the worse this’ll be.”

  “Doubtful,” I snap, trying to shove him.

  But he holds onto me with his freakishly strong grip.

  “Let me go,” I growl out.

  And then I feel it, that darkness purring inside my veins.

  Hurt them.

  “Hurry up,” Roman bites out, his fingers tensing on my wrist. “Before she ends up killing me.”

  “I’m not going to kill you,” I snap, struggling to get away from him. “I’m not a killer.”

  Hatred burns in his eyes. “Look at you. You’ve got killer written all over you. Literally.”

  “No, I don’t…” The words fade from my tongue as I catch a glimpse of my arms.

  Like the other day, my veins have become more prominent and are protruding underneath my flesh.

  “What’s happening to me?” I whisper in horror.

  For a flicker of an instant, Roman’s brows knit in confusion.

  But then he hastily erases the look and shouts, “Do it!”

  A bright blue light suddenly illuminates around the room then heat blasts through the air, so potent I have to close my eyes.

  What was that?

  Am I dead?

  I breathe in and out as the air settles down again. Then I crack open my eyes.

  I…

  What the…

  I shake my head in shock… and in anger.

  While Roman is no longer holding onto me, I still can’t move from where I stand because a cage now surrounds me.

  “Let me out of here,” I growl, gripping the bars.

  Ollie and Phoenix smirk at me from the other side while Roman watches me with a guarded expression.

  “Not a chance, sweetheart,” Ollie says to me with a grin.

  I lock eyes with Roman. “I don’t know what happened with the other maddening you met, but I’m not a killer.”

  “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” He steps forward and pats the bar. “If deep down inside you, you aren’t then eventually the bars of this cage will melt away. However, if the magic laced in these bars sense you’re evil, the cage will remain in place until it can feel otherwise.” He gives me a cold, cruel smile. “My bet is you’ll be the new decoration to our room for a very, very long time.”

  With that, he steps back, and they all head toward the door.

  I rattle the bars. “Let me out!”

  They ignore me, exiting the room and shutting the door behind them.

  And just like that, I become trapped again, like I was in Tina and Tim’s basement. Only this time, I might not ever get out.

  “No.” I shake my head as I sink to the ground. “I’m not a killer.” I stare at the bars, willing them to understand that, willing them to melt away.

  But they remain in place, keeping me trapped, and letting me know that maybe, just maybe, somewhere deep inside me, I might be a killer.

  Roman

  Part of me feels bad for locking her up. I hate that I feel that way. I shouldn’t feel bad at all. She’s a killer, whether she’s killed yet or not. Her kind always ends up killing, causing death wherever they go, just like the one I met.

  “So how are we going to keep this hidden from that fire demon?” Ollie asks as we wander the hallways of the academy.

  School doesn't start for another week, so hardly anyone has arrived yet. The only reason Ollie, Phoenix, and I are here is because we chose to come here early. It sounds a bit strange, but it's either come to school early and hang out with each other or spend more time in our homes, by ourselves, because none of our parents are around much. It comes with the territory of coming from a darker bloodline. The darkness inside us makes us more cold, distant, and uncaring. At least that's what I was always told.

  When I was younger, I used to be a nice kid. I’d share my toys with others. When I attended the all-death-angels academy, I was the best flyer in my class, and I spent time trying to teach others to fly as well as me. But when my father found out about that, he taught me a lesson. And by lesson, I mean he beat me until I promised I’d become the cold, cruel creature he wanted me to be.

  “Emotions will ruin you,” he told me as he struck me across the face. “Do you want to end up feeling things for the rest of your life? Do you want to let others control you? Be able to break you?”

  I had shaken my head. He made it sound so awful.

  After that, I started fighting against my kind instincts. And now here I am, part of a group everyone calls the Death Triplets. Creatures fear us. Flee when we come around. And that’s the way we like it.

  At least, that’s what we tell everyone.

  “We’ll figure it out later,” I tell Ollie, pulling myself from my thoughts.

  “Maybe she’ll get out,” Phoenix remarks, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

  I shake my head. “She won’t.”

  Phoenix glances at me. “I don’t know, man… Honestly, she didn’t seem that scary.”

  I glare at him. “She’s a maddening. That cage will never let her out.”

  But deep down, in that tiny, good part of me that just won’t seem to die, I want Haven to get out. But it’s a naïve hope. Like I said before, all maddenings are killers. I know this first hand, learned it the day one of them killed my brother and sister with their cold, darkness-filled, murderous hands.

  Chapter 13

  “Your performance was flawless,” Mor said to his colleague and lover.

  “Of course it was.” Sage turned from the window, dabbing a bit of smeared lipstick on her face. “Everything I do is flawless.”

  She was right. Everything about her perfection, from the way she smiled to how talented she was at manipulating a situation. She was a succubus, though, which are known for their perfection, whether it be real or not.

  Sometimes Mor wondered if she was manipulating him, if their secret relationship was nothing more than a con. After all, the two of them didn't really make any sense. He was an old, worn-out shapeshifter who had been stuck in the form of a storm angel for quite some time after his powers had weakened due to a spell cast upon him. Before that, he had been confident, strong, and nearly perfect. But now he felt withered and tired. He looked the part too.

  “Yes, I know.” Mor sank back in his chair and lit up his pipe, watching Sage return her attention to the dew-kissed window.

  She seemed distracted today, and it bothered him that he couldn’t figure out why.

  “Tell me again why we’re doing this,” he said as he puffed on the pipe. “Why we brought a maddening here. This school was doing just fine without one living behind our walls.”

  "This school was dying, Mor," she stated with her arms crossed. "We're getting less and less funding every year as more of our students are dropping out and attending academies that focus on less dangerous jobs. And that low graduation rate means we have fewer huntresses and hunters protecting our realms. The death rates have already spiked, and this coming year is supposed to be even worse unless we can recruit more students."

  “I guess you’re right,” Mor muttered. “I still don’t quite understand, though, why having a ma
ddening at the academy will help more students graduate?”

  “Because it’ll make the academy more appealing.” She ambled toward him, swaying her hips. “Imagine the reputation we’ll get if we can train her to become a huntress—if we can train a maddening?”

  He guessed he could see her point. Still, he felt like there was more to it than what she was telling him. He knew she had been looking for a maddening for a while, and when she discovered Haven in the human realm, she had sent Annabella to collect her, but she didn’t want anyone knowing that part of the story.

  “We need to pretend we found her by accident,” Sage had told Mor when she informed him of her plan.

  He had agreed then without much hesitation. Now, though, he wished he had asked more questions. Maybe he would have if she hadn’t distracted him with her many… talents.

  “Are you sure there’s not more to this than what you’re telling me?” he asked again, trying to focus on the conversation and past her wonderful succubus scent.

  “Of course.” She smiled at him then straddled his waist, took the pipe from his hand, and set it down on the table. “Why would I lie to you?” She combed her fingers through his hair. “When I love you?”

  Then she lowered her lips to his and Mor completely forgot about everything else. And that’s just how Sage wanted it.

  About the Author

  Jessica Sorensen is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in the snowy mountains of Wyoming. When she’s not writing, she spends her time reading and hanging out with her family.

  Also by Jessica Sorensen

  Also by Jessica Sorensen

  Monster Academy for the Magical:

  Monster Academy for the Magical

  Monster Academy for the Magical: The Monster Trial (coming soon)