Grave Secrets: A Dementon Academy of Magic Novel (The Everlasting Chronicles Book 3)

by K. G. Reuss

  Grave Secrets

  The Everlasting Chronicles

  K.G. Reuss

  Book Three

  Grave Secrets, The Everlasting Chronicles, Book 3 © 2020 K.G. Reuss

  Copyright notice: All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Cover art: Covers by Christian

  Editing: N-D-Scribable Services

  Formatting: Books from Beyond

  Contents

  Untitled

  Untitled

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Forty

  Forty-One

  Forty-Two

  Forty-Three

  Forty-Four

  Forty-Five

  Forty-Six

  Forty-Seven

  Forty-Eight

  Forty-Nine

  Fifty

  Fifty-One

  Fifty-Two

  Fifty-Three

  Fifty-Four

  Fifty-Five

  Fifty-Six

  Fifty-Seven

  Fifty-Eight

  Fifty-Nine

  Sixty

  Sixty-One

  Sixty-Two

  Sixty-Three

  Sixty-Four

  Sixty-Five

  Sixty-Six

  Sixty-Seven

  About the Author

  Sneak Peek

  Sneak Peek

  Books by K.G. Reuss

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  Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.

  -Benjamin Franklin

  For Dustin

  I knew you needed book three.

  One

  Everly

  Closing my eyes, I rested my head against the cool window of the SUV as we sped toward wherever Dementon was located. Eric was at my side, and Damien manned the driving. Neither had said a word to me since we’d left Rolling Thunder, and I didn’t feel comfortable enough with them to speak first.

  Eric shifted in his seat beside me, the creaking of the leather the only sound being made by anyone. I felt him staring at me, and I cast him a quick nervous glance out of the corner of my eye.

  “So…” He cleared his throat, his blond hair falling across his forehead. “How was your weekend?”

  “What?” I snorted as I looked at him. He had to be joking. But his face remained serious, his blue eyes intent on me. “Uh, well, I just busted free of a psych ward. So, I guess there’s that.”

  He offered me a small smile, creating a dimple in his cheek. “Beats a lot of other things you could be doing.”

  “I suppose,” I muttered, turning to look out the window again. I was uncomfortable. Edgy. My stomach fluttered with butterflies. And not the kind of butterflies that came with excitement. These butterflies were woven of dread and fear. I swallowed down what emotions I could control and let out a slow, shaky breath, fogging the glass.

  Just a week ago, I tried killing myself to see if I could. Seemed like a strange thing to do, but there it was. And he’d brought me back. Shadow. The creature who’d grown up with me and protected me. I rubbed my neck uncomfortably. It was still sore and bruised—an ugly, fading, purple mark around it where the bedsheets had cut into my neck. Thankfully, a black turtleneck kept it hidden. My mom would’ve freaked if she’d seen it.

  “I wouldn’t call it busting out,” Damien piped up from the front seat causing me to look in his direction. “Think of it as trading one prison for another.”

  “Wick, knock it off,” Eric snapped, a scowl marring his handsome face.

  “Just telling little Everly the truth.” Damien shrugged, giving me a mischievous smile through the rearview mirror.

  “What’s he talking about?” I demanded, the butterflies now banging painfully in my guts. There was no way I was going to a place they referred to as a prison. It was bad enough I’d been locked up in a psych facility.

  “He’s just being a jerk,” Eric supplied evenly. “Dementon is great. You’re going to like it there. Everyone does. It’s a place where people like us can feel normal. You won’t have to worry about anything. It’s one of the best schools for Specials in the world.”

  “What about the dead?” I pressed, getting to the heart of the matter. Eric visibly flinched at my mention of them, and even big, bad Damien averted his eyes from the mirror to look back at the road. I hadn’t heard them since I’d gotten in the vehicle with Damien and Eric. And that seemed off. Weird. Abnormal. Eric had already saved me once. I wanted to question him about the diner incident that happened only weeks before but thought better of it. I was still trying to adjust to going to a strange school. And honestly, I wasn’t sure if I could handle any more brutal truths. I needed to ease myself into the entire situation.

  “You’ll be safe there,” Eric said firmly, not a doubt in his deep voice. “That’s one thing I can promise you. And if they do show up, it’ll be brief.”

  “Yeah, right,” I muttered going back my window and the world beyond the glass. If the past few months had taught me anything, it was that nothing was promised and even the dead didn’t stay gone for long.

  We fell into an uncomfortable silence for a few miles before Eric cleared his throat and spoke again, “What’s it like? Talking to ghosts?”

  “It sucks,” I grumbled, not bothering to look at him. “And I don’t talk to them. I avoid them as much as possible.”

  “We’ll have to make sure you don’t get rusty at Dementon,” Damien stated, making a right turn.

  “Why would I get rusty? Not that I’d mind,” I added as an afterthought. The idea of never having to see or deal with them aga
in was one that appealed to me.

  “Because of Conexus,” Damien replied, his dark eyes on me again through the mirror.

  “What’s a Conexus?” Dr. Brighton had mentioned them to me, but without explanation. I hadn’t been much in the mood to question him. My mind had been a jumbled mess from everything else that had transpired.

  “It’s the elite group on campus. We,” Eric spoke up, nodding to Damien in the front seat, “are two of the ranking members. It’s a hard group to get into. You don’t apply for it. You’re brought in based on your abilities, strength, and constitution.”

  “Sounds like a lot of work,” I mumbled uninterestedly. I wasn’t good at clubs, and there was no way I’d be good at one like what they described considering I couldn’t shut the dead up for anything. I’d probably be a laughingstock once I got to Dementon—a weirdo who had no clue how to control her abilities. Ugh. The thought made me queasy.

  “It is,” Eric replied solemnly. “We do a lot. We work for the Order, the body that oversees and governs the Specials in the world. We’re stronger, faster, and smarter than all the rest. We are the best.”

  “Why should I care again?” I asked dryly, my eyes sliding over to him. I felt like they were trying to sell me something. As long as nothing bothered me there, I didn’t care about the groups.

  “Because… we’re going to keep the things that go bump in the night away from your bed.” Damien grinned. “We keep all manner of creatures out of Dementon. We’re too scary.”

  “Oh,” I mumbled half-heartedly. So, the group did matter to me. I just hoped they were as good as Eric claimed, because from my experience, I was going to need a lot of skilled people on my side. “How does someone like you fight the dead? Or whatever else is lurking out there?”

  “I have skills, sweetheart.” Damien winked at me, a smirk on his lips. “I could show you sometime. You look like you know how to have some fun.”

  “Wick! Knock it off,” Eric warned him for the second time.

  “I’m just playing with her. You’re cool, right, Ever?”

  “Yeah, whatever.” I went back to looking out the window, my heart hammering madly in my chest. The anxiety I was under began to bubble up inside me. My stomach gave an audible growl in that moment, and I flushed, hoping they hadn’t heard.

  “You’re hungry,” Eric stated, making me flush further. “Damien, let’s stop and grab some food.”

  “It’s fine. Really,” I tried to argue, but Eric shook his head at me, his mouth set in a firm line.

  “It’s not. Raiden would have our asses if he knew we didn’t treat you right.”

  “Who’s Raiden?” I asked as we pulled into the parking lot of a diner. I shifted to get out and was surprised when Damien pulled my door open and offered me his hand.

  “Come on, sweetheart.” He smiled, completely dodging my question. “You’re getting first-class treatment here. Don’t crap on it. You’ll hurt my feelings.”

  Rather than argue with him, I took his hand and let him help me out. His eyes swept over me quickly, a playful smirk on his lips.

  “Damn, girl. How long are those legs of yours? I bet you can really wrap them around someone’s neck. I’d be willing to find out—”

  “Damien!” Eric growled, pushing him aside, a scowl back on his face.

  “I only meant that I’d like to train with her.” Damien winked at me, making me to roll my eyes at him. “What do you think, Ever? Want to train with me?”

  “Train?” I frowned as we made our way into the restaurant.

  “Yeah, all Specials are required to train during their time at Dementon. Conexus doesn’t mind protecting our people, but you gotta be able to help yourself a little too. There are a lot of big, bad things out there that could eat you.” Damien bumped shoulders with me playfully. “But you’re not scared, right?”

  “I’m not afraid,” I lied, my voice trembling.

  “Say it like you mean it next time.” Damien chuckled softly as a waitress led us to a booth in the back. Damien gestured for me to sit, so I slid in first, and he followed, blocking me in. Eric sat across from us, his blue-eyed gaze on me.

  “What can I get you guys to drink?” The waitress snapped her gum irritably. Eric didn’t break his stare from me as he spoke.

  “She’ll have a pink lemonade. We’ll have two Cokes. We won’t need a minute to look over the menu. Bring us three cheeseburgers and fries, no mayo or onion on hers.”

  I opened my mouth to object, but Damien stopped me by resting his large warm hand on my shoulder and raised an eyebrow at me—his silent way of telling me to shut up and accept what was ordered for me.

  “I can order for myself,” I grumbled softly.

  “Of course, you can, sweetheart,” Damien soothed. “Eric just likes to take charge. Probably why he can’t keep a girl.”

  “Shut it, Wick.” Eric rolled his eyes. “I just don’t want to be long.”

  “It gets dark, and that’s when it gets scary,” Damien whispered conspiratorially to me sending a shiver down my spine. “Don’t worry. I work better in the dark.”

  I didn’t say anything as we sat there in the silence, my mind still in overdrive. Eric knew how I liked my burger. And he knew I loved pink lemonade. I frowned hard as I thought about it.

  “Eric?” My voice was soft and nervous. I wasn’t even sure how to address the situation.

  “Yeah?” His attention was immediately all mine.

  “How did you know what to order for me?”

  Damien shifted beside me. I waited, my breath held, for Eric to answer.

  “It’s my job to know, Ever,” he replied delicately, his eyes shifting to Damien. I glanced between the two and scowled. It was like they were communicating telepathically. They’d done something similar before we’d left Rolling Thunder.

  “What are you?” I asked suddenly. Eric raised his eyebrows, his attention back on me as Damien smirked.

  “What do you think I am?” Eric challenged, his voice soft and dangerous.

  “I-I don’t know. I didn’t even know what I was until just a few days ago. And even now, I’m not sure I believe it. I keep thinking this is some kind of comatose dream. That I’m actually asleep in a hospital bed miles from here, a machine breathing for me.”

  “You aren’t in a coma,” Damien stated evenly.

  “That’s exactly what a figment of my imagination might say.” I sighed, looking down at my hands resting on the table.

  I gave a loud squeak as Damien pinched me on my side. Immediately, I slapped at him amid his laughter. He snatched my hands and held them tightly, his dark eyes bright with humor.

  “What the hell?” I snarled at him, momentarily forgetting about Eric and his ability to know about how I took my dinner. “That hurt!”

  “Just proving that you’re here and alive.” He beamed widely at me, his hands still holding mine tightly. “Believe me?”

  “You’re an ass!” I hissed at him. “Let go of me!”

  “Let her go.” Eric chuckled as the waitress brought our food out. When she placed it in front of us, Damien released me. I scowled at him. But he didn’t seem to mind as he dug into his dinner.

  “Tell me about Dementon,” I pressed, biting into a fry, hoping maybe Eric would give me more information about himself. I had the churning thought that maybe he was Shadow. The idea both excited and frightened me.

  “Well, it’s a school for Specials—people like us—” Eric answered.

  “And who are “us”? You haven’t told me what you are,” I interrupted, jumping at the opening to question him again.

  “Well, I’m fae. I’m not even really human. To be fair, neither are you—”

  “Wait. What?” I dropped my fry back onto the plate and narrowed my eyes at him. “Explain.”

  “Specials aren’t human. Not really.”

  “Think of us as super-human,” Damien offered, wiping his mouth. “Like humans, only better.”

  “Right. Super-huma
ns.” Eric nodded, apparently liking that explanation better. “Anyway, I’m fae—”

  “Oh, like a fairy!” I exclaimed, recognizing the word.

  Damien let loose a roar of laughter, his entire body shaking as Eric scowled.

  “Let’s get one thing straight. I am not a fairy. I don’t have wings or magic dust,” Eric growled, his eyes darkening.

  “So he says.” Damien chortled loudly again.

  “I’m fae.” Eric glared at Damien. “We are the faire folk, yes. But we are not fairies. We’re more elven if that helps you to understand.”

  “Sorry,” I said apologetically, biting into my burger and chewing as I stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

  “Anyway, I stitch. That’s that thing you saw me do at the diner that day. I’m also a telepath and telekinetic.”

  “You read minds?” I asked, my eyes widening, my face reddening. My worst fears about him were confirmed. I couldn’t recall if I’d thought anything inappropriate, and for that, I blushed.