by Abby James
“How old is she? So far everyone looks to be around my age, but she seems very young.”
“Penny is thirteen. A person’s gift normally comes through after puberty. Girls develop their gift early as they reach puberty earlier. But for poor Pen her gift came through early. She is very talented. Her gift is strong, maybe a little too strong for a girl her age.”
“What is her gift?”
“She is an empath. Like me. For one so young it can be punishing. Unfortunately she has a long family history of early showing. And lost many of her family members as a result.”
“Lost?”
“Suicide. Without the proper guidance empaths can easily lose control of their sanity. Imagine taking on the emotions of everyone that surrounds you, being an open gate with no way of shutting everything out. Darkwells does not normally take students so young, but they made a special exception with Penny.”
“Now I understand why you’re school counselor.”
“It’s not just emotions I sense. I can sense a person’s gift as well.”
“You will sense my gift?”
“That is the hope.”
“Have you every failed?”
She laughed. “I never use the word fail.”
“Do you need to touch me or something…in order to sense what I am?”
“Normally not, but in your case I may have to make the exception.”
“You make me sound like a weirdo.”
“I must admit I have taken a little peek in the time we’ve been talking.”
“What? At my emotions?” Yikes. I didn’t like the idea that empaths existed. People weren’t meant to have such intimate knowledge of others.
“You leak dreadfully. More so than most.”
“Good to know.” And didn’t that just make me feel uncomfortable being around her.
“I can teach you to control the leakage of your emotions. Our first year empaths will find it hard to shut you out since your leak is strong. But you could be an interesting subject for my advanced class.”
“Great, a guinea pig. I’m so happy I came to Darkwells.”
“Oh, honey, I didn’t mean it like that. But you will learn some valuable lessons in protecting yourself against emotional invasion.”
“People do that?”
She exhaled. “Come.” She glided further forward in her seat. My eyes caught on her large hoop earrings as they swung from her ears while she moved.
“Take my hands.” She wriggled her fingers as an encouragement. “I cannot sense your gift. This will enable me a more direct line.”
Her french polished nails made me look at my own finger nails, which needed a good shaping. Her hands were soft and warm, unlike my dry ones. But that’s what happened when you continually washed with harsh antibacterial soap; one of the downsides to working with the dead.
Ms Lane closed her eyes. I stared at her black eyelashes laying flat against her skin and the soft dusting of pearl gray eyeshadow. She’d aged with elegance. The Ms at the front of her name made it hard to tell if she had been married. And I saw no mark of a wedding ban on her finger.
I was soon drawn out of my wondering by the tingle that ran from her palm into mine; faint, but it tickled. I had to force myself to keep my hands in hers, so I bit my bottom lip and tried not to giggle. Then other things distracted me, emotions, flickering through me at rapid speed. It was nothing but a confusing jumble. Even when I tried to grasp hold of one core emotion, it slipped away like a mirage.
Ms lane released my hands. Her eyes flicked open and a beautiful smile spread on her pink gloss lips.
“You sensed something?”
“It’s faint at the moment, but I do believe you are an empath.”
Wow, not something I had expected. My mum was an empath, but I was like a brick wall to anyone’s emotions. Except for seconds ago. Maybe my connection to Ms Lane had drawn my ability through for a brief moment.
“It is faint, which is unusual for someone of your age. You should be showing the full manifestation of your ability by now. But don’t worry. I will soon coax your gift to full life.” She sat back and stared at me. “Come now it’s not that bad.”
“Am I leaking?”
“Yes, you are, but I don’t need to be an empath to see your disappointment.”
“I don’t want to be burdened by everyone’s emotions.” I sounded like a selfish child, but that brief glimpse was confusing enough.
“It doesn’t have to be a burden. There are many wonderful things you can do for society.”
I looked out at the lush, manicured gardens with their boxed hedges, bountiful flowers and pebbled paths because I didn’t want to keep sharing my disappointed expression, even though I probably poured it all over her with my emotions.
“Samara, your mother was a beautiful woman. Kind, compassionate, giving. Everyone loved her.”
That snapped me back into the room like nothing else could.
“You knew her?”
“We were in the same classes.”
“You knew dad as well.”
“I did.” I didn’t need to be an empath to catch the tightening of her voice. But not everyone got along.
“Your dad was a…passionate man.”
Okay, I didn’t need to know that about my father.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
I wish she’d quit reading me.
“Given his elemental aspect was fire, it was no wonder he was…”
“Fiery.”
“He had strong opinions, but was fiercely loyal and loved your mother very much.”
Said like she was making excuses for who he was. “Got it.”
“Oh no, he was a good man. Although sometimes his aspect transformed his personality. It’s common with elementals. Most gifted, in fact.” She rose suddenly, looking uncomfortable. “It was lovely meeting you, Samara. And I look forward to seeing you again. I think it best we start with twice weekly sessions until we can coax your gift out of hiding.”
“What sort of classes will I be attending?”
“General classes first. But once your gift is fully manifested we can advance from there.”
She bent and scooped the file from the table. “Don’t forget this. It’s always good to know where you come from.”
“Can you tell me which way I need to go to reach the rotunda?”
“I think it’s best I draw you a map. The castle can be a maize for anyone new.”
While I waited for her to sketch her map I skulled my water. Outside in the hall, I glanced down at the complicated sketch. I’d be lucky to reach the rotunda by night fall, if at all.
8
Ms Lane’s sketch was worse than a third grader could draw stick figures. I passed through corridor number two, around one corner and into corridor number three, which happened to be lined with the armor of knights from medieval England, armed with lances, battle axes and shields. Maybe each part of the castle was themed on a certain time in history. The corridor I went through with Amy would’ve been ancient Greece and now I was in medieval England. If I stumbled on twentieth century America with a few shopping malls, I would feel at home, but I wasn’t going to get anywhere with this map.
Good thing class was out and the corridors were full of students. Walking through the old castle on my own and I would’ve felt somewhat intimidated and maybe a little spooked.
I stopped to have a better look at the map.
“Lost?”
I turned to see Emrol leaning against one of the knights. “I’m heading for the rotunda.”
I fixated on his one quirked eyebrow before my eyes were drawn to his slow spreading lips, inching into a cheeky smile, like he knew some joke I wasn’t in on.
He left the knight and strode over to me, stopping to let a woman pass in front first. “The rotunda. An interesting place for you to go.”
“I’m meeting Amy there.”
The closer he strode toward me the more my body flared to li
fe. Actually, it was certain parts of my body, like my stomach with its butterfly wings, and my girlie parts, which were flaming up. The rest of me turned languid and weak. Any tension or disappointment I’d felt on learning I was an empath disappeared. I exhaled through dreamy thoughts of how wonderful it would be to snuggle up to Emrol, run my hands down his chest, maybe up under his fitted shirt. I could bury my nose into his chest, inhale his fresh, pine scent.
I think I licked my lips. Yeah, I definitely licked my lips, which would’ve revealed my thoughts to him. Thank god fae weren’t empaths. Maybe they were, in their own sort of way. The idea snapped me out of my sexual stupor.
“What’s so weird about me going to the rotunda?”
He stood less than a foot away, invading my personal space, not that I was about to complain. He could invade any part of me he chose.
Whoa, did I just have that thought? I’d never felt so sexed up by a guy so quick before.
“Are you using your—”
He had gorgeous eyes. This close and I swore I could see them glittering like the sun reflecting off the ocean.
He leaned in close. “You were saying?”
“I don’t remember.”
It was a struggle between looking at his eyes or his lush lips that twitched into a smile. “I think you’re bewitching me.”
“I think I am.” His eyes hovered on my lips and his voice dropped an octave or twenty into dangerous seductive territory.
I continued to stare at his lips. They were gorgeous, a deep, desirably suckable pink. “I thought that was banned.”
“Having a conversation with someone?”
We were very close to each other now, like shirt front to shirt front close. “We’re not having a conversation.” I barely got the words out as I didn’t want to speak because it distracted me too much from staring at Emrol’s lips.
“Strange, I always thought this was how humans talked to each other.”
Something in what he said should ring alarm bells.
“It looks like I need further instructions on the different ways human’s communicate their intentions.”
“Maybe so.” My lips were close enough to his when I spoke those two words I felt the tickle of his skin. When had I gotten so close?
“Perhaps you would like to offer your services.”
“I’ll have to look at my timetable.”
“It can be after hours if you are other wise busy.”
His breath was warm and freshly scented much like the rest of him.
“After hours would suit best.”
A large, warm hand slipped around my waist. The sudden contact sent a shot of something amazing through my body. It was as if I had suddenly woken to life. Everything around me became clear like I’d been looking through misted glass my whole life to now have it removed. The smell of Emrol became rich and intense, warm sawn pine, new turned loamy soil, flowers in bloom. His sandy blond hair glistened as if in sunlight. His skin glowed warm and golden.
Swept up in the awe of his perfection and my sudden new sight, his kiss stole my breath, a sudden, violent kiss, devouring in its aggression. Wasting no time, he forced my lips apart with his tongue, stabbing inside my mouth while one hand wound through my hair, the other across my back, anchoring me in place, subjecting me to his fervored demands.
Suffocated, I could only breathe in his breath. But it was all I wanted to breathe in. I kissed him back with as much hunger as he kissed me, pressing my body flush against his, feeling every outline and ridge, curve and knot.
Every part of me sparked and sung, aroused to the point of combustion by the ferocious way he kissed, the skillful tease of his tongue, the hard press of his lips and body against me.
I curled one leg high up on his thigh almost to his waist, as my hand inched down under his shirt. Both of us sucked in a sharp breath when my hand touched his skin, the gorgeous ridge of hard muscle along his stomach. But my hand wasn’t enough. I could get my tongue down there. Run it along those ridges, testing the dips and grooves, sample the taste of his skin. But that still wouldn’t be enough. I had to go lower, lick my way below his buckle, use his carved V as my guide, tease his sensitive skin to tiny pebbles with my tongue before wrapping my lips around his—
“Emrol.”
The shrill shriek kicked us both backward.
One of the Elert sisters stood in front of us, hands akimbo. My attention snapped out from her to the rest of the hall. Oh god. We were surrounded by a bustling corridor full of students most of whom had stopped to gape and giggle at the human making out with the fae like they were both wild beasts. Thank god I had jeans on or else my leg hitch would’ve revealed panties.
The brunette huffed, perhaps because she was too incensed to find the right words. Then she launched herself toward me only to be cut off by Emrol. “Cool it, Mila.”
“She’s only just arrived and she’s all over you like a bitch on heat.”
I was all over him! Okay, yeah I was, but he started it. Really, did she not guess what the fae was up to? Did she not know that her possessive obsession was likely due to mind games?
Emrol snagged her around the waist as she tried to get passed him. “Hands off, bitch.” She managed to bark, as he swung her away.
I was about to tell her that maybe she should tell her boyfriend the same, since it was all his fault, but I didn’t want to get into a slinging match in the corridor in front of half the school when I’d only arrived a few hours ago. Not a great start. And already there would be talk about the two of us, given the amount of stares we’d gathered.
I glanced at Emrol and was surprised to see he looked ruffled, the cool arrogant fae was gone. He avoided my eyes and his expression was anything but the sort of smug you would expect from a guy who’d just made a girl soak her knickers in one second flat. Could it be he felt embarrassed to be caught tonguing another woman by his girlfriend, if that’s what she was, or, dare I say, he too had been stripped by the intensity of our kiss, something he was perhaps unused to.
He slung a hand over Mila’s shoulder and turned her away, at the last looking behind at me. This time there was no confusion on his face, only anger.
Jesus, asshole. I’m not to blame. He was equally as rattled at the ferocity of our kiss and was now pissed at how easily he had fallen apart.
Left on my own, I scanned the corridor and met snickers and smirks and whisperings behind hands. I wanted to yell at everyone, tell them to piss off and go smirk and giggle elsewhere, but with my cheeks flaring hot, I had to get out of here.
It took all my effort not to run, but I succeeded in finding the dignity to walk away from the huddled gawkers. But with each fleeing step the flames grew up to engulf me such that I found myself stomping away. Bastard. He’d used beguilement. There was no question about it. No way would I have launched myself at him like I did—in public for god’s sake—if I’d not been under a spell. Any longer in that kiss and I would’ve been taking my clothes off. I mean I nearly had my hands down his jeans.
And he had the nerve to be angry at me. Shit hot he may be the guy was a class A prick. Getting more furious with each step, I wasn’t looking where I was going, blindly taking whatever turn appeared, heading down whatever corridor was in my way until I ended up at the bottom of a large spiral stairwell. Rather than head back the way I had come, I climbed the stairs, which wound upward forever, and came out onto a dim lit hall with gloss wood floors. The floors contrasted with all the concrete I’d seen so far, making the place seem like a special location.
The only light in the corridor came from large flaming torches mounted in thick metal brackets hanging either side of the walls. This place had to be in the middle of the castle for there were no windows. There were also no statues, tin knights, nor paintings of the alumni on any of the walls.
An eerie tingle ran down my spine as I left the stairs and headed farther down the hall. I glanced back at the stairs. Safety. I should go back down. I looked along the darkened
corridor. What part of the castle was this? Curiosity got the better of me, and before I could think of being sensible I continued away from the stairs. I’d never been an adventurous girl, but then I’d never been chased by a zombie, shot through time and space on a bus and learned that fairy tale creatures existed. How could I not be curious? What other sort of weird mystery would I stumble upon?
“What trouble are you getting yourself into now?” I whispered.
I cringed at the squeak of my trainers on the wood, the only sound to be heard, as I sealed whatever fate I’d set in motion by not turning back.
If it was at all possible, the light had grown dimmer. The brackets this far down had thinned, spacing maybe every twenty yards or so, elongating my shadow and dancing it along the ground behind me as the light flickered like wind had crossed through the flame.
A shiver raced through my body, shaking up my senses. I stared my hardest into the growing darkness, straining to hear any sound, any indication of what was ahead. This was madness. Anything could be down here. But if there was something dangerous, surely they would have blocked the stairwell, or warned me when I first arrived about staying away from certain areas of the castle. I didn’t even know which section I was in.
Two more steps and I stopped, the eerie feeling getting the better of me. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I turned and ran into a man, shrieked and staggered back so abruptly I bit my tongue from the jar of falling on my ass before I even realized I was going down.
From the ground, I stared up at him, but the shadows wrapped him in a cloak. The darkness clung to him like a second skin concealing from me everything but his height. And he was tall. Yeah, I was on the ground looking up, but there was no disguising his height. Like a statue, he remained silent and still. I could be mistaken for thinking he was yet another of the many artifacts that lined the many different corridors of the castle.
“You are not supposed to be here.” His deep masculine voice flared a tremor through my insides. In that voice I imagined strong hands caressing me, a well-muscled body pressing alongside me. But really the guy could look like anything and, given where I was be anything. I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. I blamed the fae. His mind fuckery was still messing with me.