The Curse Begins

by Abby James

  “I thought you didn’t know how to proceed with my training?”

  “You will sit in on more of the factional classes. While this is all hush hush I do not want you joining in, but I think it will be of value if you begin to learn what it entails to wield multiple abilities.”

  “It must cost to be here, right?”

  “A certain fee, yes, but the school is heavily subsidized by the council to enable all supernaturals a chance.”

  “But there is a fee?”

  “Yes.”

  “How am I paying? I have little money.”

  “Your parent’s estate.”

  “I don’t get that until I’m twenty-one.”

  “Your account will accrue. But you do not need to worry about that.”

  “So I’m being forced to spend all my inheritance on this place.”

  “Are you willing to leave Darkwells now that you know it exists?”

  “No.” I didn’t even hesitate.

  He smiled. “Then good day, I must get back to my research.”

  I left McGilus with his head buried in his tome of lineages and headed to A history of the supernatural, while juggling everything in my head, such as the question mark regarding whether Nathan still held allegiance to the council of factions or another, and whether it was dangerous if Luca should know the truth about me.

  17

  Amy took the new scribe from my hand. “That’s weird, she said as she scanned down my new timetable. “Why is McGilus having you attend Basic Elemental Manipulation, The Beginnings of Spell Craft, Basic Mechanics of Telekinetics and Looking to the Future? And that’s just Monday.”

  “My empathic powers aren’t coming through, and he thinks if I become immersed in the training of differing abilities it will trigger something.”

  “You’re like my grandmother. It just takes longer, that’s all. It will happen,” Lorna said.

  I shrugged, feigning nonchalance when really I felt bad about lying to Amy and Lorna. They were the only two friends I had in here, and I was creating barriers between us already.

  “You’ve got Ms Leadstone for Elemental Manipulation. You met her when you came to see me. She’s great, but you’ll hate Mr. French. He takes the telekinetic classes. I’m told he’s an asshole.”

  “I’m not expected to participate, obviously. I’ll stay at the back and keep my mouth shut.”

  “Oh my god, today you have Applications in Casting. Guess who they have running that for the interim while Mr Wellington is on annual leave?”

  “I couldn’t guess.”

  “Of course you couldn’t. Luca.”

  I’m sure my face turned pale because I could feel my blood pooling at my feet.

  “It’s amazing they got one of those vamps to agree to leave their lair, but I’m told he’s good. Jerome says he prefers Luca to Mr. Wellington.”

  “Why is a vamp teaching a caster’s class?”

  “Haven’t I told you?’

  “Obviously not.”

  “Luca’s a freak. He isn’t just a vampire. He’s also a sorcerer.”

  Jesus, he was the man McGilus was talking about.

  “It’s impossible to be more than one supernatural, but Luca is the exception. It’s awesome really.” She leaned over the table, conspiratorial like. “You know how vamps are made, right?”

  “An exchange of blood.”

  “Yeah, which means there has to be consent involved.”

  “That’s not true, Amy,” Lorna said. She turned to me. “A vampire can use their will to make you take their blood. Amy’s just trying to sensationalize the story. Luca could well have been under her spell.”

  “True, but my story’s better.”

  “Someone tell the story,” I said.

  “Luca was once in love with a vampire. A long time ago” Lorna said.

  “Who’s to say he still isn’t,” Amy interrupted.

  Shit, what? I didn’t like this story.

  Lorna rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Anyhow, he dated her for a while and then next minute he was a vampire.”

  Amy swooped closer, practically crawling across the table. “That’s why you’ve got to stay away from them. They can befuddle your mind and next thing you drink their blood and wake up with fangs, or you fall in love and desperately want to be like them.”

  “I know he’s the exception, but I thought it was impossible to be two factions.”

  Amy sat back, my logic deflating her dramatics. “That’s how it normally goes. But he’s proved anything can happen.”

  “Most supes who drink vamp blood end up in medic with an extreme headache and vomiting. Wissend are their real prey if they’re looking to expand their nest, which is forbidden under the constitutional law.” Lorna said.

  It was all interesting, but I was stuck on the idea Luca could still have a thing for the vampire who turned him.

  “It’s the reason he can walk around during the day?” Lorna said. “His heart still beats and blood still runs around in his veins. Unlike true vampires who are basically living dead.”

  “Pass the pancakes, please,” Amy said, seeming to have lost interest in our conversation.

  I also handed over the large jug of maple syrup, pot of cream and strawberries. We were sitting at a long table in the dining hall, but most of the students had left by now, leaving a few small groups on the surrounding tables. We had this table to ourselves.

  I was going to see Luca first thing. I couldn’t stop the buzzing thrill in my stomach. But if he was still in love with this female vampire…God that made all my fantasies of him pathetic. And it was imperative him, of all people, did not find out the truth about me. Although he had already guessed something about me was off. Would he see me as a threat? Fear me? Or would he tell his vampire lover about me so they could both deal with me? Bloody hell, my mind was a mess. I yearned to see him, but I also feared being near him and his super enhanced senses.

  Chewing on a mouthful of pancake, Amy reached for my scribe again. I intercepted her with a question. “Have you seen Duncan since the party?”

  Her face dropped. “We ran into each other two days ago. It was so awkward. Neither of us can remember everything that happened, but both of us remember me nursing his dick in my hand until we were pulled apart.”

  “He’s not trying to avoid you now?”

  “He’s too much the gentleman to do that. But I think he thinks he needs to apologize.”

  “Oh, that’s not good.”

  “I don’t want him to say sorry. I want him to ask when we can do it again. Sorry means he never intended for it to happen in the first place.”

  “Maybe it’s custom in British aristocracy to date first before a woman got a firm handle on your dick.”

  Amy’s eyes rolled back as she collapsed forward, hiding her head in her hands. “It’s a mess.”

  “At least it shows his intentions,” Lorna said.

  “That he isn’t interested in anything with me?”

  “That he is, as you say, a gentleman and that he would prefer the two of you to be clear headed before you play show and feel,” I added trying to reverse Lorna’s not so helpful suggestion.

  “It’s made a mess of our friendship. Things used to be so easy between us, now as soon as we meet I flush up and he needs to suddenly be somewhere.”

  “I’m sorry, Amy.”

  “Maybe I’m a rotten kisser.”

  “No way, girl. Don’t you blame yourself. If anything he’s going to be the rotten kisser.”

  She sprung up to sit straight. “You don’t think he’s intended for someone else?”

  “That’s stupid,” Lorna said.

  “No, it’s not. It was custom in old England times. Maybe it’s still a done thing in posh circles.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “How many supernatural history classes have you done? Not enough. There was a time when factions were restricted to marrying within their own faction. To keep the bloodlines pure
.”

  “Once upon a time ago. That’s not the case now. I’ve seen my lineage. It’s a mix all the way back for generations,” I said.

  “It still could be a thing in some places, or some groups still holding on to the old ways.”

  This was Amy making pitiful attempts at piecing together why Duncan had rejected her. Not that he had, not out right. But it wasn’t looking good for a future relationship when the guy dodged out rather than discussed the possibilities of one.

  “We’d better get going if we don’t want to miss first lesson,” Lorna said.

  Both looked at me.

  “You certainly don’t want to miss your first class.” Amy winked.

  “I’m up the back trying to be invisible, remember?”

  “And quietly drooling.”

  We split at the door, and I headed left, following the direction of my scribe. For the first time since arriving at the castle I was directed down a flight of stairs heading into what could only be dungeons.

  The farther down I went the colder and danker the air. The stone walls turned into carved rock, the steps like they had been cut from the bedrock the castle was built on. The natural light from the doorway behind dimmed leaving only the light that flared from orbs mounted on the rock walls. Fascinated, I stepped close to see the glowing orbs were not separate from the wall itself but apart of it. Crystals of differing color, fashioned in the rock over the millennium had been coaxed to life, shining brilliant blues, greens and yellows. The reflected colors were lost in the dark stairwell, but beautiful embedded in the wall as they were.

  Mesmerized by the colored lights, I stopped thinking morbid thoughts about what might be down this far, where the center of Darkwells lay and how far that was to where I was now. Surely they would not hold a class close to the evil they had caged.

  I slowed on the steps when I heard murmured talking. I was nearing the end of my journey. That’s when I realized I didn’t have anything to take notes with, not even a pen. But I was sitting in on the class, which had to mean no one expected me to jot down anything from the board. And I didn’t even have text books for the subject. If I did it would look like I was there to join the class proper and that was not the point of these sessions. McGilus wished for me to absorb as much as I could without appearing to be doing so to keep the interest in me to a minimum.

  At the door, I stole a moment to take a deep breath. That done I pushed open to a room full of students quietly facing the front. I saw no teacher in sight, so was impressed by how well behaved everyone was being. No talking or laughing, no throwing spitballs at the ceiling or the hair of the person in front. Or maybe that was just my high school experience.

  They were all so deep in what I could only guess was a meditative silence that not one of them turned around to see who’d entered.

  There were no spare seats down the back, only one at the front on the left. I walked down the center aisle, which separated the left side of the class from the right, heel to toe, trying to be as silent as possible, glancing either side as I went. And sure enough, all eyes were closed. They really were meditating.

  The door slammed behind me, making everyone, including me, jump. Dammit, I shouldn’t have left the door open. I spun at the same time as heavy strides smacked toward me on the stone beneath our feet.

  I froze up, except for my pulse that went pitter pat as Luca strode toward me. Every bit as delicious as I remembered him, all I could think about was my naughty dream in which I ran my hands across his belly, savoring the hard definition of his muscles and wanting to get my tongue down there to do the work of my fingers. My fingers twitched, and I had to swallow the saliva in my mouth. Holy Jesus, I was having wet dreams about my teacher in front of the class. Thank god this was a casters class and not a telepathic class.

  “The late comers are the first victims,” he said as he strode past me, not even glancing my way.

  Around me, students laughed. Once at the front of the classroom, Luca spun in a dramatic turn to face everyone and silence descended. If my tenth grade math teacher had of had that affect on the class I may have learned something, or maybe not.

  “I’m curious why an empath is joining a caster’s class?”

  “Did Mc…Dean McGilus not explain it?” I had hoped I would not be left to tell all the teachers why I had turned up.

  “Would I have asked the question if I had been told prior to your arrival?”

  He was snappy. I didn’t much like teacher Luca. I much preferred the Luca in my dreams who moaned when I ran my tongue down his throat like it pained him to resist me.

  “Dean McGilus thought it would help bring my ability through if I attended some other classes.”

  Luca flat-stared me like he’d not heard a word, or I was speaking gibberish.

  “McFarlene, “ Luca barked without removing his eyes from me.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Come here.”

  A boy with long black hair tied back into a ponytail rose from his chair and came to the front of the class. His tall, lanky height made him hunch.

  Luca kept his eyes on me, causing all sorts of stirrings in my gut, which fanned out to invade my body, tinges of desire at the way he had not removed his eyes from me to nervous jitters at what I was going to be made to do.

  Staring at Luca—no, not just staring, I was entranced by his eyes—I caught the moment he crooked his finger, calling me to him and didn’t that make my girlie bits burn. Did he want me to crawl on my knees toward him, which was what I would do if we were alone?

  My legs were moving, which meant at least I wasn’t going to embarrass myself by forgetting where I was and doing exactly what I thought of first, crawling on my knees.

  Once I was in front of him, Luca broke the spell and turned to McFarlene. “You’re going to play nice. So you’re going to shake Miss Wright’s hand before you attack.”

  What? Attack?

  The audible gasp around the room told me Luca was deviating from script. This was all for my benefit. Was he teaching me a lesson for being late or was he angry at me turning up at all?

  “Sir?”

  “Shut up and do as I say.”

  I looked down at McFarlene’s hand, his long skinny fingers extending toward me. I couldn’t touch him. If I did, if I touched a caster, what sort of expulsion would I generate. I’d embedded a bin in a cathedral ceiling after an injection of McGilus’s ability. McGilus was likely very powerful, but I could do any number of things that would expose me if given some caster magic. And I had no idea how to suppress or control any of it.

  “Miss Wright?”

  Oh Jesus, I stood there looking like a fool in front of all the students.

  “I’m not feeling well, sir. I think I’d better head to medic.”

  I turned and tried my best to leave without scuttling away. I made it halfway down between the bench seats when a wall of light rushed in front of me, then danced around in a swirl of glittering gold, wrapping around and around my body. The more it wrapped the tighter it became until I could feel the warmth of it brush against the skin on my bare arms.

  “I didn’t give you permission to go.” His voice came from close behind me.

  He sounded so close I dared not turn around. After an agonizing ten seconds or so, in which the golden shower of light tickled along my skin, he walked around to stand in front of me, his face aglow with his magic. The light flared the amber in his eyes and turned the blood red to a violent crimson. Those eyes were going to expose me as the weak girl I was, and those lips. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t you bloody look at those lips. God dammit. If only I would listen to myself sometimes. Looking at them made me think about my dream. The vividness of the memory, and it felt like I was touching him now. I could remember the moment his warm breath invaded my mouth, the exotic taste of mulled wine and all things sinfully delicious.

  “You need my permission.” That was not a classroom tone. That was a bedroom tone. He wouldn’t be speaking like t
hat in front of all these students. Oh god, I was so far gone in my fantasy world of erotica I wasn’t even hearing straight.

  “Samara, are you going to ask my permission?”

  I swallowed. He was joking, right? “Can I please leave?” I whispered the question. It was a simple question, but given all my head porn it felt like a dirty question.

  We locked eyes for god knows how long. I felt stripped, or maybe I wanted to strip. I couldn’t tell what was going on in my head anymore. All I knew was that he was so wickedly scrumptious.

  He broke the spell, turning his head to the side, closing his eyes for a brief moment like he could no longer bare to look at me. The light disappeared, freeing me.

  Without looking at me, he barked, “get out of here.”

  I felt a coldness grow between us. He was drawing himself away. I glanced around me to a sea of eyes staring at the two of us. What a total screw up this had been.

  Outside on the steps, I stopped and pressed my back against the cold stone, gasping in breaths while I tried to steady my raging heart. Then I buried my face in my palms, bending low. God, in front of all those students. Now it will race around the academy that I practically took my clothes off for him. First Emrol and now Luca. Bastard, what did he think he was doing playing me like that?

  My humiliation gave me the power I needed to race up the stairs two at a time, desperate as I was to leave him behind.

  18

  I sat in an oversized chair, large mug of hot chocolate in hand, looking through my ancestry files. There was nothing there to explain how I ended up with my weird ability. Elementals ran strong through my family, and there was even a psychic a few generations back on mum’s side. The maternal side was dominated with the passive abilities, such as empaths. Dad’s side of the family was dominated with active abilities such as elemental manipulation or telekinetics.

  It didn’t matter how many times I stared at the pages, I wasn’t learning anything new or gaining any greater insight. And none of my general classes were giving me the knowledge I craved. Supernatural history was as boring as promised. Mrs Benton skimmed through the basics then dropped us straight into the Cruces war and that’s where she appeared intent to stay for the rest of my first year of training. Given the ethos of the academy was to teach harmony and cooperation across all factions, it was no wonder Mrs Benton focused heavily on the outcome of division amongst the factions, and it was likely the key element in the curriculum.