Paranormal Academy

by Limited Edition Box Set

  Out in the hall, Supergirl leaned against the wall, anxiously curling her hair around her finger.

  “This way,” I said, waving her to the right.

  She sighed and mumbled, “I can’t believe this is how I’ll remember my first week as a Guardian.”

  God, not her too. I didn’t need her rubbing my face in it.

  “I’m sorry for landing you in the doghouse,” I started, my tone clipped, but she cut off the rest and held a palm up in my direction.

  “Not one word from you, Mr.”

  “Then how will we complete this task?” I asked as we passed the training rooms and gym.

  “Shhh.”

  “Did you just tell me to shh?”

  She covered her ears and hummed to herself.

  Seriously? I huffed and pumped my legs, pushing forward. Let her keep up. I heard her footsteps quicken, struggled to match my stride.

  I passed the dining hall, the classrooms, and the weapons storage and forge, before arriving at the storage room. In the front part, Hadrians prepared the herbal mixtures which we used in the field.

  I moved to the back of the space where the ingredients were stored. The room was dark and smelled like herbs, alcohol preservatives, iron shavings and salt. I flicked the lamp on, revealing floor to ceiling drawers on one wall. Signs on each drawer indicated they held herbs. Garlic cloves hung from string in bunches dangling from bars on the ceiling. Tubs of salt lined another wall. Shelves housed jars of various items, including candles, crystals, flower petals and various incenses.

  Supergirl entered behind me, stopping by my side to examine the room. “It’s bigger than the one back home.”

  “I thought we weren’t talking,” I reminded her.

  She glared at me. “I was talking to myself.”

  I sighed and checked the list. Might as well get this over with as fast as we could, so I didn’t have to be reminded of my screw up by her every two seconds.

  Dragon thistle topped the list. Best I start there. I moved down the aisle. They stored the herbs in alphabetical order.

  “What do you want me to do?” she asked.

  “Just keep ignoring and glaring at me,” I said with a little venom. I was damned well sick of everyone treating me like a naughty child. “You’re cuter when you’re angry.”

  She puffed out her cheeks as if preparing to deliver a barbed retort. But then her eyes softened, and she pulled her chin back. Hmm. Disarmed by my compliment. She quickly returned to scowling again. Yep. At least I still had my charm.

  “Check that drawer.” I pointed to the row third from the left. “For the Dragon Thistle.”

  I leaned against the wall while she wandered over to the compartments. My gaze drifted south to the smooth curves of her ass which wiggled as she moved. She bent over as she slid open the draw and peered in it. All my blood rushed to a particular spot, and my pants tightened. I imagined taking her ass in my hands, squeezing it, slapping it, sinking my teeth into her flesh, and biting hard enough to leave marks.

  I’d thought she was cute and sassy when we’d first met. But back in Knoxe’s office she’d blown away my first impressions. I liked my women with a mouth on them. One who could stand up to me.

  “Three stalks,” Astra said.

  “I know where I’d like to put my stalk,” I mumbled, still watching her and not paying attention.

  “What?” she asked, her brows scrunching.

  Shit. Did I say that out loud?

  “Check.” I made an elaborate motion to record the data on the sheet.

  “What’s next?”

  You and me in my room all night to sort out this Mothman business the hard way. Me kissing her until she begged me to stop.

  I shook my head to get on with the task. “Devil’s Bane,” I informed her.

  Her long fingers climbed the drawers. I imagined what they’d taste like.

  Fuck, Tor, stop thinking with your cock. I blamed it on not getting laid in six months. The women at the Guild thought me an arrogant wanker and avoided me like a STD. As Guardians, we didn’t get much time to go to bars and party it up with the ladies. Even if I could, my career made it difficult to have a relationship with a normal woman. I mean, slipping out in the middle of the night to hunt a Siren in a lake encouraging kayakers to drown. How would I explain that? Not worth the hassle.

  “Two bundles,” Astra said.

  “Hmm?” I said.

  “Can we concentrate on the task and not my ass?” she asked.

  Hah! Heat flushed my cheeks. Looks like I’d found my match. “Don’t flatter yourself, super girl.”

  That’d throw her off the scent.

  10

  Astra

  Oh my god. This was torture. If I thought being stuck in a room, counting herbs with Super Idiot was bad, then detention equaled the definition of pain. Writing an essay on the mating habits of goblins had to be as fascinating as watching paint dry. There was a reason I’d never sat in detention. I’d avoided trouble and bullies all my life. The last thing I’d ever wanted was to end up stuck in a room with the jerks who picked on me.

  But since I was trapped here for the next two hours, seated beside Super Idiot, neither of us able to leave until we finished our assignments, I decided to make the most of my time. Using my school-issued laptop, I research the hell out of the subject on the Guild-Web—the Guild’s equivalent of Google, rich with the history of gantii and every known species in existence. I found blog articles compiled by mages, sentries, and guardians on their encounters with gantii and spells. Even some scientific papers, studying the effects of herbs on particular species, published by the academic Gildrons and Hadrians down in Sydney.

  For some reason, the Thor-wannabe kept throwing sidelong glances my way, and it pissed me of even more. I bet he probably went over his little stunt in his head, amusing himself at my expense. He was lucky he was still alive. It took all my inner strength not to punch his lights out in the herb room for landing me this punishment. More so, I wanted to kick myself more for being such a dumbass for falling for his prank.

  Then there was the other issue. Dammit, why’d he had to be so cute? Had it all been to suck me in and fool me into his stunt? In spite of these things, I didn’t want anything to do with this guy beyond having to work with him in a Guardian capacity. Nope. We were done!

  Beyond my punishment, I had to face the rest of the team later, who probably thought me an even bigger blockhead than Tor, deal with Knoxe’s continual hostility and Raze’s unfriendly glares. Judgment all-round that I’d never fit into the group. The only one I got along with was Pascal, and I could barely talk to him.

  For the first time in my life, I wanted to quit. My only options were to go back to the Shadows or transfer to another unit of the Guardians. Surely, another group needed my help, where they wouldn’t resent me for replacing someone they loved. I certainly didn’t deserve this, and I sure as hell didn’t ask for it.

  Ignoring Tor, I pushed through, completing my assignment, doubling the word count, because, hey, I need something hardcore to distract me from the jerk beside me.

  By the time we were released, I was like a caged lion ready to break out. Clutching my laptop to my chest, I hurried down the corridor, desperate for some alone time to refocus and realign myself.

  “Wait up,” Tor called out after me, hastening to catch up.

  I pumped my legs faster to put distance between us.

  “Where are you going?” He jogged past, stopping in front of me, one arm wide, the other holding his computer. Did he find this amusing? Because I wanted to wipe the smirk off his face.

  “Get out of my way, Super Idiot.” I pushed past him.

  “There’s no need for names,” he said, barreling around me, his damn long legs carrying him right to me in a matter of strides.

  Fine. If we were going to play this game. Dance this dance. I spun and strode down the opposite way. I didn’t really know where I was going yet, but if I had to take the long
way to my dorm to avoid him, I’d do it.

  “Supergirl, wait.” This time Tor blocked me on the opposite end.

  Heat licked at my neck. “Stop calling me that.”

  I marched to the next corner, coming to a halt when I turned it, finding myself in a dead end. When I turned, Tor had me cornered.

  “Let me say something,” he said, his voice soft, reasoning.

  But I didn’t want to hear whatever stupid things he had to say. “Move now.”

  What happened next came totally out of left field. Tor pulled me close and kissed me—hard and desperate. I swear, at the moment, the moon and the stars fell from the sky, pattering at my feet like dried rose petals.

  Startled and flustered, I pulled back, flushed and warm. “Where did that come from?”

  Awkwardly and a bit helplessly, he replied, “I…don’t know. I just wanted you to listen to me.”

  I laughed but not a happy laugh. One full of nervous tension. “That’s one way to get my attention.”

  “What happened yesterday,” he stammered, giving me the impression that he wasn’t the type to apologize for his actions. But somehow, I’d gotten to him. Maybe it was the silent treatment. Or me slamming him in the chest. “What I did to you with the Mothman wasn’t fair.”

  I stared at him.

  “Actually it really sucked. I acted like an asshat, and I’m sorry.”

  I closed my gaping mouth. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “That’s kind of how blokes are,” Tor said. “We act like fucking asshats and think we’re entitled to do it.”

  I considered myself discerning enough to know when someone lied to me, and in Tor’s voice and manner, I found no insincerity. “I’ve got to admit I’m a little surprised you’d admit that.”

  “Don’t tell the other guys I did.” His green eye’s blazed with mischief. “I take enough shit from them about the whole superhero thing without them knowing about this.”

  In that moment, he reminded me of the Norse god, Loki, whose mischievous feats made life difficult for his brother Thor. While Tor lacked the malice of Loki, he still possessed an insecurity he expressed through his shenanigans, a cover for something deeper, a mask to conceal his flaws.

  “Your secret’s safe with me,” I promised with an appreciative smile.

  “Thanks.” Tor.

  “Now, can I ask you something?” I asked.

  “Whatever you like.”

  “Haven’t you ever had a woman member in this crew before?”

  Tor replied, “I’m a little ashamed to admit it, but…no. We’re used to being all blokes in it together, never having to deal with a female. That’s the reason we don’t exactly know how to be with you.”

  “I get what you mean,” I said, thoughtfully. “It’s nothing I’m used to either. With the Shadows it’s not like that. Men and women, we all live together, learn and work together, all the time, and everyone gets on—mostly.”

  Understanding, Tor said, “Yeah. Well, the Guild of Shadows is bigger with more people in it than we are. It’s easier for us to get set in our ways.”

  “In the Shadows we learn there’s always a new way,” I said.

  “With you Shadows, it’s lessons,” Tor said. “With us…it’s orders and falling into line. You jockey for your place, and sometimes the others put you in what they think is your place. Like me, for instance. I don’t think like anybody else here. Pascal gets a pass for being different, but I don’t.”

  I leaned closer to him.

  “They’re all still into that outmoded rubbish of thinking you’re some kind of socially clumsy ‘nerd’ if you like superheroes,” he explained. “They haven’t got the memo that superheroes are cool yet. They probably ought to get out to more movies if they’re never going to pick up a comic book. So, I spend half my time trying to be who I know I am, and half the time, just for spite, being the asshat they’ve decided I am.”

  Finally, I was beginning to understand why he valued being a superhero so much. It wasn’t an act. An escape. He really believed it.

  Tor slumped against the wall. “If you want to know the truth about me, this is it: deep down, way down at the bottom of my soul, I believe in heroes. I believe the world needs them, and I believe there are people who need to be that way. And that’s who I am. I’m a guy who needs to be what he believes in. And if anybody else doesn’t believe in it, it’s their bloody problem, not mine.”

  Now I knew beyond a doubt of Tor’s sincerity. No one made a speech like that if he didn’t mean it. I was quietly and deeply moved at his willingness to disclose his innermost self to someone he’d only known a couple of days.

  “You know something?” I said.

  “What?”

  “This is almost the only real conversation I’ve had since I got here. No one’s said anything to me that really means anything.” I recalled my exchange with Pascal, but what Tor had just shared with me was in its own way even more meaningful.

  “Really?” Tor said.

  “Really.” I smiled.

  I went back in my mind to my first impression of him, before his joke with the Mothman, when I had actually found him cute. Now, suddenly, that impression had returned—and with it, that feeling that caught me off guard. On an impulse, I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and kissed him. This time, Tor pulled away, uncertain and confused—but his wide eyes blazed with desire.

  “You didn’t need to do that to get my attention,” he teased.

  I nudged him with my hip. “Yeah?”

  For a moment, we stood there. Then, as if pulled together by gravity, we crashed into each other for another, deeper, longer kiss, an incredible brush of lips and tongues that hurled me into space.

  Until we were interrupted by a beep.

  “Team,” Knoxe’s voice blared over our comms system, thrusting us apart. “Get to the cells for our interrogation of the Mothman.”

  Tor looked at me, “Guess we better go.”

  He led the way down the long corridors of the Guild, down a flight of stairs, to a dungeon area, where creatures were held captive behind glowing blue magical barriers. We wandered past the cages, and I stared at the cells of Chimera, Drakon, Satyr, Basilisk and more. They growled, hissed, thumped their tails, and howled.

  Pascal stood outside of the end cell, his back curled, rocking from side to side.

  Raze hovered nearby, his hands outstretched. “Knoxe, let me talk to the elders. They’ll know how to get an answer from the Star Man.”

  “No,” Knoxe yelled, thumping at something.

  Something crashed and chittered in one of the end cells and we hurried. We found Knoxe inside the last cell, the Mothman cowering at his feet, using his arms and wings to shield himself. Glowing chains bound him to the wall. Green blood dripped from a wound on his face. Appendages on his mouth vibrated together, emitting a strange sound.

  My stomach coiled at the idea of him hurting the gantii.

  “What are you doing?” I said, standing outside, wary of the magic binding the Mothman, keeping him prisoner inside.

  “What does it look like?” Knoxe snapped, hitting the Mothman again with a savage blow to the back of his head. “We need answers and he’s not talking.”

  The gantii huddled in a protective ball, raising the pitch of his twittering, high and terrified.

  “No.” I paced the length of the cell, searching for a way inside. A thickness settled in my throat when I couldn’t find one. “You can’t torture him. That's against Guild Code.”

  The leader kicked the frightened and defenseless Mothman. “I told you, Guardian philosophies differ. We do things a little differently here. It’s why we’re more effective.”

  Tor grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me away from the door.

  “No.” I wrestled to get free, jerking so hard, I stumbled forward, my hand hitting the glowing blue cell bars. My skin hissed as the magic sizzled.

  “Knoxe, the elders handle this,” Raze pleaded. “T
hey’ll venture with the Dinbana Wugal in the spirit world and find the answers you seek.”

  “We don’t have time,” Knoxe shouted, landing another blow.

  “Don’t do this, Knoxe,” I said, my voice choked. “Please. We’ll find another way.”

  He didn’t seem the type to lie about the fundamental differences between the Shadows and Guardians protocol. But his desire to avenge Jaz fueled his violence.

  “Please, stop,” a voice blared from a translation device. The Mothman. “The Karvosh have stolen my family. If I do not obey, they will kill them.”

  We had to find the family and return them. Then maybe the gantii might be more cooperative with answers to where the veil portal and vamp nest was located.

  “Liar.” Knoxe’s boot found the Mothman’s head, and he screamed.

  That was it. He’d gone too far. I traced a pattern in my hand of a protective barrier and it flashed into existence, guarding the Mothman.

  Knoxe rolled his shoulders and fingered different magic runes in the air, a spell of some sort to counteract my effort. He let off a blast of power that sailed through the bars and thrust me into the wall behind me.

  Tor, Raze, and Pascal all jumped in front of me defensively.

  “Don’t test me, Nomical, or I’ll send you back to the Shadows,” Knoxe snarled.

  I no longer cared about my fate in the Shadows or in the team if it meant I had to go against my beliefs on hurting another defenseless creature. Sure, I’d used magic against other gantii to protect myself, but only when attacked first. This Mothman posed no threat. At least not while he trembled at Knoxe’s feet.

  “You're blinded by grief,” I shouted back. “Hurting the gantii, hitting me. None of it will bring Jaz back.”

  Anger flashed through me, and we locked gazes. Sparks of hatred flew between us as if we clashed against the magical bars. I didn’t give a damn what he thought. His approval didn’t make me feel complete. I wasn’t going to let him hurt the gantii.

  “Shut your mouth.” Red rimmed his eyes. “You don't know the first thing about me.” He moved to the back of the cell, facing away from me, leaning an arm on the wall.