Paranormal Academy

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Paranormal Academy Page 10

by Limited Edition Box Set


  Thank goodness for door number two.

  Across the parquet floor was a red door with a silver knob. The only thing on an otherwise blank expanse of white wall at the other side of the room. On the other side of the door was a staircase leading down, down, down until you reached the gate and an ever-raging soiree. The Cellar never closed. Ever.

  Steeling myself for what I was planning to do tonight—I took in a shaking breath and pushed it out, letting my magic surge up through the soles of my feet, calming me and giving me strength at the same time.

  I could do this.

  “Hey, Diana!” I heard him call and almost stumbled in my three-inch heels trying to turn around. “Glad we caught you.”

  We?

  I found Alistair in a group of several students coming through the ramshackle doorway and into the foyer of the club. “Hi,” I said, instantly blushing and trying to hide it.

  The other students hollered that they’d see him inside and took off through the red door. All except Alistair, and a girl. I didn’t know her, but AAA was a large school, so that didn’t necessarily mean she didn’t go there. What I wanted to know, however, was what the hell she was doing with her hand tucked tightly into Alistair’s.

  I fought the urge to immediately demand who this person was.

  Instead, I took a stabilizing breath and pretended I wasn’t at all put-out at the sight. The smile I tried to force my lips to emulate hurt me more ways than one.

  “This is Dolores,” Alistair said, and it would’ve been impossible for me to miss the spark in his eyes when he said her name or the way he leaned into her with that smirk of his—the one I thought was only meant for me.

  “Right. Great—I mean, hello,” I stumbled over the words, still trying to make sense of it all. “I’m—”

  “Diana,” the girl named Dolores finished for me with a winning smile that was so earnest it made her seem almost angelic. “Alistair has told me a lot about you. I feel like we’re friends already.”

  Ha! Yeah, right. And of course, he’s told you all about me, I wanted to say. I’m his best friend.

  Best to play along.

  “I’m really glad you two could meet,” Alistair said. “Dolores isn’t… well, she doesn’t go to the academy, and she asked me not to tell anyone about us because of, um, her father. He’s real strict.”

  “Until now?” I challenged, wondering what changed, and why I’d never heard of this person before, and how long they’d been together, and most of all… why he was blatantly lying to me.

  We knew each other better than that. He could tell when I was lying to him just as easily.

  “Until now,” Dolores repeated, looking longingly at him. It took me a moment to place her accent, and when I did, it made sense. She was Irish. Alistair’s family home, Rosewood Abbey, was tucked away in the Irish countryside. Though, I didn’t think there was a large witch presence on the isle anymore. Though, I supposed it wasn’t impossible some still remained there.

  “That’s right,” Alistair agreed. “After nearly a year together, we’re tired of waiting,” he looked at her while he lied to me, and I knew that she was hearing the truth as he spoke.

  I nodded sweetly, looking between the pair of them, trying not to let on that my heart was breaking inside my chest.

  “That’s so great,” I said with a biting tone I didn’t intend and turned away.

  “Dee,” Alistair began.

  But I cut him off, hollering over my shoulder, “See you down there,” not trusting myself to keep the tears at bay if I dared turn back to face him.

  I ripped the red door open and took the stairs two at a time all the way down. After four flights, I hit the back of the line of students waiting to get in.

  “Hey!” one girl shouted at me as I shoved past her and everyone else in line. The doorman’s name was Smith, and he and Alistair got on famously. I gave him a slight incline of my head and he opened the rope to let me through to a barrage of disgruntled shouting from everyone else who were still made to wait.

  I could hear the music faintly from the stairwell, but several spells kept the majority of the sound contained to within the actual place—so as not to disturb the polished clientele upstairs. Once I passed the threshold, the music rushed over me like a wave, and the dim, dancing firelight and blue glow of the witch-light swallowed me into its pulsing darkness.

  The bartender I knew as well. Well, not his real name, but we all knew him as Psy. Inside, The Cellar was already at capacity. And I had to wiggle and weave through groups of bodies to get to the bar. The song a mix of violin, flute, and piano pouring over the crowd was a mortal favorite. And one I liked, too. Though a good portent of the groups known by name in this area were in fact witches. Hell, I even knew of a vampire group, and that one group with the lady pianist that got popular last year? Shifters.

  If the mortals only knew….

  “Psy!” I shouted, weaseling my way between two groups huddling around the granite bar-top. He spun and flashed me a smile, his bright eyes sparkling under the brim of his top-hat in the moving lights. He went to grab my regular, a Tom Collins, but I shook my head and he screwed up his thin eyebrows before leaning in to hear me better.

  “Something stronger,” I shouted into his ear, and after one look at my face he nodded his understanding and used a simple sigil to bring a bright blue bottle down from the top shelf.

  He poured the faintly glowing liquid into an oversized shot glass and set it down in front of me. “On the house,” he said with a wink. “Thank me later.” Then he was gone, moving to the other end of the bar to get someone else hopelessly jiggered.

  “There you are!” I heard Alistair exclaim from behind me, and my insides shriveled.

  Breathe.

  “Oh!” I said, turning to him, slightly relieved to find the precious Dolores not clinging to his arm. I knocked back the whole drink, surprised when a spiced berry sort of flavor exploded in my mouth, and then fizzed all the way down my throat, and left a searing warmth somewhere deep in my belly. I shivered. “Where’s whats-her-name?”

  “Dolores,” Alistair corrected gently, cocking his head at me. “Can I get the next round?”

  “Be my guest,” I said and lifted my empty glass. “But I want another of whatever this was.”

  He smiled widely at me, and the cracking in my heart spread.

  I waited as Alistair gathered up the drinks and then nudged me to follow him, his hands full. He jutted his chin out in the direction of our spot. In the back of The Cellar was a small grouping of low tables and cushioned seats. Back there the music wasn’t as loud and you could have a conversation that was less shouting and more just really loud talking. It was where we always sat. And the fact that at least that hadn’t changed made me feel a little more at ease.

  But the feeling lasted only a minute and about thirty feet of sticky dance floor before the bodies parted ways and I saw who was already sitting there.

  I wasn’t sure why I was surprised. I couldn’t help but gawk when I caught sight of Dolores sitting on the right of the low black table, right on top of the purple cushioned seat. My seat. Looking so innocent and excited, with her wide doe eyes and even wider, gaping mouth. You’d think she never left the house with the way she was staring at everything as though it were all a big spectacle instead of a tavern in the underbelly of ramshackle building.

  I hesitated before moving to sit opposite her, beside where Alistair usually sat. Except he went and sat beside her instead. Before he could fully set all the drinks down, I had mine in my hands, greedily swallowing down more of the potent blue liquor.

  We sat like that for a while. Quietly. So unlike us. We always had things to talk about. We came here to laugh off the week of school, and to burn off steam. We came to The Cellar to drink and talk and dance. But tonight, Alistair couldn’t take his eyes from Dolores.

  He watched her watching everything and seemed to immensely enjoy doing just that. Every now and again she’d whi
sper in his ear and he’d whisper back, smiling.

  I was certain if I stayed much longer, the sight of them would make me physcally ill.

  The mental image of me accidently vomiting onto Dolores’ shining ivory shoes made me giggle to myself in the dark.

  Other students from the Academy came and went, mostly stopping to talk to Alistair. An hour and two more drinks later, I’d all but forgot that we were here to celebrate me—what I accomplished.

  That wasn’t entirely true, though, was it?

  Only one person had remembered to say something to me. To congratulate me on my enormous win today on my ACE exam. And even for little Lucy Liverpool, it seemed an afterthought, only added to the conversation after she said hi to Alistair and remarked on how nice Dolores’ dress was.

  No one said anything about my dress.

  Quit sulking, I told myself, polishing off the last round of drinks and thinking I could finally feel the heaviness of the alchemically enriched cocktail settling into my bones—beginning to make my head spin.

  I watched the people dancing. Thought maybe I’d dance, too… but then thought better of it. I was too drunk and I knew it. As if that weren’t enough, with Alistair here with Dolores, who would I dance with, anyway?

  You didn’t have to be smart to figure out that The Cellar was only packed because it was Alistair who invited them to come. It had nothing to do with me, or my ACE scores.

  That was only an excuse to come and imbibe.

  Suddenly, I didn’t want to be there anymore. In fact, I would have loved to be pretty much anywhere else in the world at that moment.

  What was I thinking? Why had I even come?

  Stupid.

  I moved to get up, wobbling a little, when Dolores got up, too, asking Alistair where the restrooms were.

  He gave me a hopeful look and said to Dolores loud enough for me to hear, “Diana will show you,” he said, and gave an encouraging smile, as though he’d done me a favor. As though he expected her and I to get along. To become friends.

  Ugh.

  This night really couldn’t get any worse.

  Fine.

  I would show little miss goody-two-shoes to the bathroom, and then I was getting the hell out of here. I swept an arm toward the narrow, darkened hallway you could just make out through the swarm of bodies. “Right this way,” I said, and in a bold move on her part, she looped her arm through mine.

  “Lead the way.”

  Turned out it wasn’t the worst idea to walk like that, since I was having more trouble in the heels than I had been earlier, and Dolores in her practically flat shoes made for a nice foundation to help keep me on my feet.

  The noise cut off abruptly as we entered the bathroom, the door sealing off all sound outside. Another spell made this room soundproof, and every time someone entered, it was a new bathroom. So everyone had privacy, and there was never a line.

  I could remember the first time I’d experienced it, watching the line of other girls disappear behind the door, only to walk in after them and find a whole new empty bathroom.

  I was amazed, sort of like how Dolores looked now.

  Anticipating our needs, the room was comprised of a single stall, and a bank with two sinks. A mirrored wall over top of them. And a plush armchair. It looked almost comfortable enough to sleep in, which was precisely why I didn’t dare sit down in it—afraid I might not be able to get back up again.

  Dolores rushed into the stall, sealing it closed and locking it behind her.

  My ears rang from the lack of blaring noise that had been assaulting them only moments before. I swallowed to try to pop them. Shook my head.

  “So, Diana,” Dolores started from within the stall and I rolled my eyes at her attempt to make conversation. “How long have you known, Alistair?”

  A hell of a lot longer than you…

  I cleared my throat. “Almost five years. I met him my first day at the academy.”

  “Long time, then.”

  “Yeah. Feels like forever.”

  There was an awkward silence, and I realized it was my turn to ask something and keep the conversation going. “And you? Were you taught your basic training at home, then?”

  It wasn’t uncommon. Arcane Arts Academy was prestigious. Expensive. Even I was lucky to be able to go, and in fact, I was certain my parents had gone into a good amount of debt just to be able to send me there. But they were the sort who needed to look important. Big house. Nice cars. Fancy school for their only daughter. Broke in almost every other way.

  Most witches would kill for the chance to be able to attend AAA, or the sister institute in the UK.

  It didn’t surprise me, in her simple clothes and scuffed shoes, that she wouldn’t have been able to afford to attend.

  “No, I go to St. Va—” she began, but stopped herself. “I mean, yeah. Homeschooled.”

  Ok. There was something not quite right about her. About this whole situation. Her and Alistair. And it wasn’t just my obvious dislike for her or the fact that she was encroaching on my territory. No, there was something more to this that I wasn’t quite grasping.

  Could it be possible that she was a—no, Alistair would never…

  Would he?

  “Dolores,” I asked as she came out of the stall and moved to the sink furthest from me to wash her hands.

  “Mmmm?”

  I came to stand behind her, examining her reflection in the mirror. “Where are you from, anyway?”

  She gulped, keeping her head bent. “Oh, didn’t I already say? I’m from Ireland.” She rang her hands, not meeting my gaze. Her cheeks inflamed beneath the thin layer of power she wore on her skin. “Well, a small village there… you won’t have heard of it.”

  A small village? Did her family live among mortals, then?

  I gasped. My eyes widened and hers shot up to meet mine in my reflection behind her. My hand shot to my mouth.

  “You’re…” I started, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I felt sick.

  How could he?

  I tore from the restroom, leaving her with a pained expression on her face as she rushed to rinse the soap off, likely to stop me from what I was about to do.

  A gush of heat, music, light, and the smells of cheap perfume and sweet brandywine hit me like a wall as I exited, barreling through anyone who was in my way.

  He saw me coming, and there must’ve been something in my eyes because he stood, waving away the two guys he’d been talking to with a rushed apology. Out of what was left of the kindness in my heart, I waited the extra five seconds for them to move out of earshot.

  “What the hell are you thinking?” I demanded. “Are you insane, Al?”

  He held his hands up in the placating gesture he often reserved for breaking up fights at school. But this was a fight that needed to be had. He had to see reason. This wasn’t just wrong, it was illegal. Dangerous. He could get himself killed. Get her killed, too, if he wasn’t careful.

  “It’s ok, Dee—”

  “She’s human,” I shouted, regretting the volume a moment later. No one else could hear. I yanked him closer by the arm. “She’s human and you’re dating her? You brought her to The Cellar?”

  My tone was growing higher in pitch, the panic coursing through my fingertips and racing like an electric current down my spine making me lose what little precious control I had left.

  I didn’t exactly agree with all the laws of the Arcane Council. The laws our Magistrate, Godric Montgomery, put into place almost fifty years prior. But it didn’t matter if I agreed—if any of us agreed. It was forbidden to take a mortal wife. A mortal lover—sure. But to be with one in a romantic relationship—to tell one what you really were—it was a treasonous offense.

  I couldn’t let him do this to himself. To his reputation. It was far too dangerous.

  “Alright,” he snapped. “Just listen.”

  I didn’t think I’d seen him so worried. So agitated.

  “Alistair?” Dolores s
aid, coming up behind us.

  I nearly growled at her.

  “Dolores, can you give us a minute?” Alistair said, what I thought was probably the most reasonable thing he’s said all evening. But I would be needing a hell of a lot more than a minute.

  When he turned back to me, I stared him down, unable to say anything more. The anger and betrayal circling within me like a dark storm-cloud. One small change and it could start to rain or I could shatter, turning into a tornado that would knock him on his rear.

  I didn’t want either of those things to happen. I was Diana Granger. Even drunk Diana was smart, calculated. Level-headed. He would not make me crack.

  “Start talking, Al, or so help me—”

  “Alright,” he admonished. “Alright.”

  He sighed heavily, scratching at a phantom itch on the back of his neck.

  “Look, you can’t tell anyone.”

  That wasn’t an explanation.

  “No shit.”

  His jaw tightened, but he didn’t retort and took his time before responding. “I applied for a seat on the council like you said I should.”

  He did?

  And right after I thought it, I realized it was just another thing he neglected to tell me. What was happening to us? It was Al and Dee against the world. It had been for years. Sharing in each other’s successes, supporting each other in failure.

  This wasn’t us. We didn’t fight. I couldn’t remember a time when we ever had before.

  “Well, there’s already a lot of talk about it, Dee. The law that forbids this is old. Outdated. Once I get that seat on the council, I’ll have it overthrown. And we can petition for a new Magistrate. We can change things, Diana. Finally—real change. If we get enough votes, we might even be able to abolish the law that forbids us from coming out to humans. We can finally be free. Live free.”

  I shook my head, unable to hear any more. I’d heard it all before. This had always been Alistair’s plan. To change things. To make the mortal lands a better place for witches.

  He wanted us to make a true home for ourselves here, like back in our immortal homelands all those hundreds of years ago. But I didn’t think he understood the gravity of his request. How difficult it would be.

 

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