Vampires and Werewolves: GRIMM Academy Book Two

by R L Medina

  Placing a firm hand on the cradle, I waited for it to stop swinging back and forth. I closed my eyes and tried to still my mind.

  “Pulto.”

  Nothing.

  Not even a little spark came to me. My cheeks flamed. It was pointless. Magic wasn’t like in all the books and movies. It was hard. Really freaking hard. There were just too many steps, too many complex elements that had to come together. That and I sucked at it.

  A harsh laugh escaped me. “You could have at least left me a little more help, Mom. Something.”

  Dismissing the angry thoughts, I scurried toward the toy shelf, careful to skirt the edge of the bed and avoid more bruising. My lip curled. The bed would be the last thing I tried.

  I reached a hand above my head, feeling for the wall. Coldness seeped into my skin as I ran across the peeling wallpaper and landed on the shelf. I blinked and fought the urge to shudder as I felt the rough fabric of a dress. Moving my hand to the porcelain face, I tried to concentrate.

  There was nothing there. No strange sensation or wobbly vision. Refusing to give up, I skipped to the next toy and did the same. Nothing. When I reached the end of the shelf, I admitted defeat.

  I could still try the rocking chair, the bed, or the tub. Though I began to doubt I’d find anything enchanted or spelled. If the witches thought I was GRIMM trained, they would be smart enough to remove anything I could use as a weapon.

  Anger bit into me. The sad thing was, even if they had slipped and left something behind, it wouldn’t have mattered.

  Sighing, I retraced my steps back toward the giant bed and reached out to touch the wooden headboard.

  “Come on. This has to work.”

  When nothing happened, I slammed my fist against the board, wincing as pain speared through me.

  The pain anchored me to the present. I was not giving up. I couldn’t. Not when Javi and Grayson needed me. And Shiloh and Brady… a lump grew in my throat. The wolves. Everyone who’d tried to help me. Help me escape the fate my mom promised me to.

  A promise made in blood cannot be undone. There is no escaping fate.

  I shuddered at the memory of the words. Giving up now would only seal my future, but I was tired. So tired of fighting and running. I blinked back tears and scanned the darkness.

  “No. This can’t be the end. I won’t let them win.”

  Papi’s face flashed in my mind. Sorrow spread within me as I envisioned what he’d say. What he would do. He wouldn’t give up. I knew that.

  I’m trying, Papi. I promise, I’m trying.

  14

  The night was long and hard. After exhausting myself trying every chant I could think of, I’d fallen into a fitful sleep.

  When I woke with a start, the memories of the past events came crashing around me. My heart twisted in pain. Was it morning yet? Still night? Only blackness greeted me.

  Footsteps sounded outside my door, making me scramble to a stand. When the witches came, I would not be laying on the floor like the beaten animal they wanted me to be.

  The door flew open, and the candles lit once more. Sweat grew on my palms. Fire magic? Seeing herself in, the supreme stopped in front of me. Our eyes locked.

  Hatred coiled deep within me. This woman had stolen too much from me. She stood there, unfazed, untouchable. Like a god, unconcerned with my feeble existence. I loathed her with every fiber of my being.

  As if reading my thoughts, she cocked her head.

  “You couldn’t even break a lock?” Her sultry voice was unnerving.

  I didn’t answer.

  She tossed her black curls behind her shoulder and studied me. The flames around us grew, filling the room with warmth and a yellow glow that made her look otherworldly.

  My fists clenched. She was otherworldly. Unnatural. Human on the surface, but something else entirely.

  “It’s time to move you with the others.” She folded her hands in front of herself and watched me expectantly.

  I bristled. If she thought I was going anywhere without a fight, she was dead wrong.

  “Where are my friends?”

  Her eyebrow arched at me outburst. “Friends?”

  Anger stirred in my blood. “Where are they?”

  I was in no mood for her games. She’d already caught me in her web. There was no reason to play cat and mouse now.

  “The GRIMMs?”

  My heart skipped. Forcing the fear off my face, I glared at her.

  “I could tell you, but I don’t think you really want to know.”

  Her words rattled me. Made me shrink inside myself. A numbness spread deep within me. Dead. Were they dead? I blinked back the angry tears threatening to spill.

  I would not cry in front of her.

  “Come along, Rosita. It’s time for you to meet the others.”

  I snarled. Hearing my name on her lips made me want to unleash the holy rage inside me. I sucked in a breath, trying to calm my myself before I did something stupid. Like jumping her and throttling that long neck of hers.

  I was no coward, but I was no idiot either. She wouldn’t kill me yet, but she could still hurt me. I needed to bide my time and wait until I had the upper hand.

  Then I could strike.

  Not waiting for me to comply the witches grabbed a hold of my arms and dragged me forward. The courage I’d tried to conjure slipped. Panic hit.

  No. Fight. You have to fight!

  Even as my instincts screamed at me, I knew it was useless. My foot swung out, trying to connect with one of my captors, my body going into survival mode even though my mind knew it was hopeless.

  I writhed and thrashed like someone possessed. Adrenaline pumping through me. A ringing sounded in my ears, piercing and high as it drowned out the inhuman sounds coming from me.

  Tired of my hysterics, the supreme threw her hand up. A bolt of power hit me, making me reel. The room spun around me, and my stomach jumped to my throat. Was I falling? I reached out trying to grab onto something, anything. Then, I blacked out.

  Voices murmured around me. My eyes flew open. Pain radiated through every part of me, making my stomach church. I sat up and stifled a groan. I blinked the fog away trying to catch up to the present.

  Faces stared back at me—unfamiliar faces. Luna Negra. I recoiled, the movement making my head pound.

  Glancing around the room, I tried to steel myself.

  Twelve. There were twelve of them and only one of me. We were in some dimly lit basement and it smelled like rotting wood. The light overhead flickered and water dripped from somewhere, the sound echoing loudly in the silence.

  One of the witches approached me. She didn’t look much older than me, but her blue eyes were shrewd and hard, her lips pinched tightly together.

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

  I bristled at her tone. Giving her my falsest smile, I rose to my feet and met her stare.

  “Who are you?”

  Her face scrunched up as if trying to figure out if I was being difficult or just stupid.

  “I’m Ash,” she finally replied.

  Not expecting her easy response, I hesitated. Were these witches part of the coven? They didn’t look dangerous. All of them were young, but their eyes held a haunted look that spoke of a jaded past.

  Like me.

  “Don’t give her your name,” a boy hissed.

  I tore my eyes away from the girl and looked at him. His dark brown eyes reminded me of Javi. Sorrow pierced me like an arrow. Where was my cousin? Was he okay?

  “Shut up, James. She’s one of us,” the girl, Ash, retorted.

  Fury swept through me. “I am not one of you.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Then why are you down here with us?”

  My mouth dropped open. Confusion washed over me. The last thing I remembered was the supreme ordering me to be taken… to the others.

  “Aren’t you a firstborn?” the girl pressed.

  Firstborn. Pledged to the coven. The blood oath.

  Col
d dread washed over me. I was one of them.

  The boy leaned toward Ash. “She could be a spy.”

  My eyes snapped to his. “I’m not a spy. I… I am a firstborn.”

  Ash shot him a look equivalent to ‘told you so.’

  He shook his head at me, distrust written on his face. The others watched the exchange, their reactions a mixture of disbelief and fear.

  A girl stepped forward, eyes wide with fright. “If she’s a firstborn… then…”

  “They have all 13 of us,” Ash finished. Her eyes bore into mine, sharp and accusing.

  One of the youngest looking witches burst into tears. The broken sob echoed around us, ringing in my ears. Fear crawled up my spine.

  “All 13 of us… for what?” My voice barely concealed the growing panic.

  The boy, James, curled his lip at my question. “The ritual, dumbass.”

  My cheeks flamed. I glared at him. “Well, excuse me. Your supreme didn’t exactly lay out her whole evil plan wh—”

  “She is NOT our supreme.” Ash jabbed a finger at me, her eyes furious.

  Angry murmurs of agreement sounded. The little girl broke into more sobs. I scanned their faces, hope flaring to life. These weren’t enemies. No. These were allies. We all wanted the same thing—to not be killed by the coven and unlike me, these were trained witches. Maybe, together, we actually had a chance of surviving, of escaping.

  “When is the ritual?” I looked to Ash, who I assumed was the leader.

  She shrugged. “We don’t know. We’ve been locked down here for too long. I don’t even know what the date is right now.”

  I grunted. “I couldn’t tell you either.”

  My heart twisted with pity for them. How long had they been trapped there, waiting for death? Some of them still glared daggers at me, but I couldn’t blame them. After all, I was the last mark for the ritual. Now that I was there, their time—our time—was up.

  “Haven’t you tried to escape? Use magic?”

  James made a disgusted noise. “Of course, we have. We’ve tried everything.”

  “Okay. Sorry, it was just a question. No need to get all pissed at me.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Who the hell are you? Where did you come from?”

  The others stared, waiting for my answer. I fought the urge to shrink under the weight of their eyes.

  I wasn’t sure what to answer. Who was I? A GRIMM? My chest tightened. No. I was nobody.

  “Well?” James demanded. His raised chin and face full of contempt reminded me of Brady.

  Brady who could be dead for all I knew. I stifled the sob. Now was not the time to think about my friends.

  “My name is Rose. My mom was Rosa Vasquez Ruiz.”

  Ash’s eyes locked onto me, recognition flashed across her face. My heart skipped.

  “Did you know her?”

  “Yes.”

  Everyone fell quiet. Water drip dropped, the sound piercing the silence.

  “She’s dead?” Ash’s question startled me.

  I flushed under their scrutiny. “Yeah. When I was two.”

  She didn’t say anything. No, ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘how did it happen?’ Her unwavering stare and blank face made me want to edge away from her. I wasn’t sure how to read her reaction.

  “My mom died helping yours escape. I was five.”

  Her words startled me. My eyes darted across the other’s faces, not wanting to look at Ash. How could I? The shame of my mom’s actions burned through me. First Rafael’s dad and now this girl’s mom. Why couldn’t mama have been more like Tía Teresa? The more I learned about this woman who birthed me, the more I hoped we had nothing in common.

  “I’m sorry,” I finally ground out. Because what else was there to say?

  Ash scoffed. “She sacrificed herself and look where you are. Here. Same as me.”

  “Why didn’t the coven bring you in when she died?” James spoke up.

  Thankful for his question, I turned to him. “They thought I was dead.”

  The supreme’s words repeated in my head, making me doubt what I’d said. Did they know where I was the whole time? If they did, why didn’t they come for me sooner?

  “Well, you pretty much are now. We all are.” Bitterness coated Ash’s words.

  I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered. Still dressed in the ridiculous clubwear, I was freezing. Bare feet against the cold basement floor didn’t help, but even that coldness was nothing compared to glacial look in Ash’s eyes.

  My heart sank. The witch was probably more likely to kill me herself than help me escape. With her being their leader, I didn’t see any of them going out of their way to aid me and I hadn’t even gotten to the part of me being a GRIMM. As far as they knew, I was just some lucky witch who escaped the coven’s clutches.

  “Do you know anything about a wizard?”

  James scowled at me. “A wizard?”

  Ash shook her head. “There hasn’t been one in Cali in years.”

  “What do you know about wizards?” James watched me.

  It was obvious the guy didn’t trust me and judging by his proximity and familiarity to Ash, he probably liked me even less.

  Biting my lip, I thought through my words carefully. There could still be a chance to win them over to my side. We were all in the same boat, and if we didn’t come up with some kind of plan, we’d all be dead.

  “There was a letter my mom left me that said to get out of the blood oath, I had to find a wizard.”

  Ash snorted. “What wizard?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. But if she knew him, he could be around here.”

  Her eyebrow arched. “Around here? No. There’s no wizard. We’d feel the pull.”

  I blinked at her. “The pull?”

  She nodded as if I should know what she meant.

  “Of magic. The pull of magic. Are you unlinked to a conduit?” James interrupted.

  “Unlinked?”

  They exchanged glances and shook their heads. Heat spread up my neck at their assessment. Was it so painfully obvious that I was out of my element?

  “You never spelled or cast before?” Curiosity echoed in Ash’s words.

  “Not really.”

  I had. In class and it had been a fail. There was no way I was sharing that info. My lack of ability sure wasn’t going to impress them. I couldn’t even open a simple lock.

  James folded his arms across his chest. “Then you’re not really a witch.”

  “I never said I was. My mom was the witch.”

  Ash gave a thoughtful hmm. “Where did the coven catch you again?”

  Her question repeated in my mind. Did I tell her the truth? Was it safe to say it?

  “I was at a club. El Palacio.”

  Surprise flickered on her face. “That’s Los Reyes territory. What the hell were you doing there?”

  My chest tightened at the memories. Michael and the others. Cleo. The burning roof. Pushing the sorrow threatening to rise, I squared my shoulders.

  “I was meeting a witch. A rogue witch. To help me find the wizard.”

  Irritation danced in Ash’s eyes. “There is no wizard. Your mom lied. She was a liar, thief, and a murderer.”

  James’s lips quirked into a cruel smile.

  Heat flushed through me. But I wasn’t mad. No, I kind of agreed with her, but I didn’t want to be reminded of what she’d done.

  “There were… GRIMMs there. Two followed when the witches took me. Have you seen them?”

  I waited and watched their faces for any sign—any indication that Javi and Grayson were alive.

  Ash’s eyes narrowed. “Why would the GRIMMs come after you?”

  Shit. I’d made a mistake.

  15

  Trying to shrug it off, I gave her my best clueless face. “I don’t know. Probably heard me screaming for help.”

  “The GRIMMs? Here? Do you think they’re here to rescue us?” a girl in the back chimed in.

  I winced. I d
idn’t mean to give them false hope.

  Ash scoffed. “Please. Jimena could obliterate them with a snap of her fingers. They won’t even get past the ward.”

  Anger rose to the surface. I wanted to tell her, that they DID in fact get past the ward, but I bit my tongue.

  Her face hardened. “If they came after you, they’re probably dead. Jimena wouldn’t keep them alive and risk other agents finding us.”

  Dead. The word struck me in the chest, a bitter taste filling my mouth. No, I refused to believe that was true. I couldn’t stomach the thought.

  Pushing away the images of them being held and tortured somewhere or worse, I held my fear and anguish at bay.

  “Jimena?”

  “The supreme,” James answered.

  Before I could ask more questions, the door swung open, light bursting in. I scurried back with the others as four witches descended toward us. A tall, pale woman walked between them, her straight raven hair hung like a curtain at her waist. Her eyes were bright yellow and right away my hackles rose.

  Not human. My instincts warned.

  She held her chin up as they tugged her along. Chains wrapped around her wrists. Another prisoner?

  “Here you are, your majesty. Enjoy your accommodations,” one of the witches snickered, pushing her forward.

  In a flash, the woman twisted her head back and sank her teeth into the witch’s neck. The witch screamed, arms flying up and flailing. The other witches yanked the woman off, shouting a chant.

  She released the witch and turned back to face us. My heart raced. Blood dripped from her smiling fangs. My stomach rolled with nausea.

  Vampire.

  “Take her to the healer,” one of the witches commanded the others.

  He shoved the vampire down the rest of the stairs and raised his hand toward her. The witches around me scattered back as he chanted. I followed.

  The vampire stumbled on the last step but didn’t fall. Her body convulsed as his spell hit her. A snarl tore from her lips, the inhuman sound struck my every nerve.

  “You are nothing without your court. Powerless. Petty. It’s time you accepted your fate. Your reign is over. But we are not done with you yet,” the guy witch sneered before turning on his heel.