How to Raise the Dead

by Leigh Kelsey

  This book was written, produced, and edited in the UK where some spelling, grammar and word usage will vary from US English.

  Copyright © Leigh Kelsey 2019

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without the prior written permission of the author

  The right of Leigh Kelsey to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  www.leighkelsey.co.uk

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  Cover by Carol Marques Cover Design

  Map by Rainbow Danger Designs

  Interior art by LSK Designs

  HOW TO RAISE THE DEAD

  SECOND BREATH ACADEMY BOOK ONE

  A dark mystery, a wildly inaccurate reputation, and a snarky black pug familiar. Kati’s first term at Second Breath Academy is off to one hell of a start.

  All Kati Wilson wants is to keep her head down, ignore the rumours about her brother, and avoid anything that qualifies as danger, drama, or evil deeds. But the academy has other plans. Completely against her will, Kati finds herself lumbered with two perky, over-enthusiastic friends, the centre of attention in every class, and fending off dark dreams that suggest not everyone will survive the term. Not to mention there’s a prophecy that says Kati will vanquish a great evil.

  At least there’s the sweet, handsome guy who sees Kati as more than the sister of a maybe-evil-mastermind. The bad news is he’s utterly, irrefutably Off Limits. Because he’s her death magic teacher. And that comes scarily close to drama.

  But at least Kati will get through the rest of her time at Second Breath Academy without encountering danger or evil deeds. Right…?

  How To Raise The Dead takes place in a university-age academy for necromancers and reapers, but there’s plenty of magic, mystery, and romance to keep your interest if you’re totally over the academy genre. SBA is slow burn RH and builds with each book. This is a full-length novel. All characters are 18+

  NOTE

  How To Raise The Dead is story-driven, rather than romance-driven, which means that even though this book is RH and SBA will include some steamy scenes towards the end of the series, it’s much slower burn than some of my other series. Two of Kati’s love interests are male, and one is female, so if you’d prefer not to have that representation in your books, you might want to miss this series and try one of my others (the Lili Kazana series and Moonlight Inn series only have M/F.) Same goes for professor/student relationships—if that’s not for you, no worries, but if it is I hope you enjoy!

  All characters are 18+ consenting adults.

  Thanks so much for reading!

  Leigh

  HOW TO RAISE THE DEAD

  THE DARK CLOUDS ARE A METAPHOR

  The words of the prophecy muddied Katriona Wilson’s head as the ancient bus rattled up the cobblestone road to Second Breath Academy for Necromancers and Reapers, making it impossible to think. She wasn’t supposed to know about the prophecy, but she’d found a scrap of paper in her brother’s bedroom, hidden under the mattress along with a magazine full of topless women. That was months ago, before all the accusations and interrogations began, when Kati’s life was still dull and blessedly ordinary. His room was empty of all his possessions now, a pleasant floral-print ‘spare’ bedroom, neatly erased of Theo’s existence by their mum and dad.

  As if he were dead and not just in hiding.

  The bus jolted over a pothole and Kati panicked as the little cactus in her hand nearly went flying. She managed to rescue it through sheer determination, breathing a sigh of relief that it hadn’t splattered on the dirt-encrusted floor of the bus. She’d found the plant waiting on top of her suitcase this morning, no note attached, but it was clearly from Theo. Her mum would have bought a spider plant for Kati’s new room, not a cactus, and her dad wouldn’t have even noticed she was leaving. This spiky little plant was now her most prized possession, and she’d be damned if she was going to kill it before she had a chance to set it on a table in her new home.

  Second Breath Academy, the school she’d been looking forward to attending ever since she was three years old and learned of its existence. It was also the school that had wrecked her family, put a dark cloud over her own reputation, and sent her brother into hiding. She’d been genuinely surprised to find an attendance invitation on her doormat four weeks ago, long assuming they wouldn’t want another Wilson in their hallowed halls after what happened last December.

  Not that Kati was complaining—it was exactly what she needed to achieve her dream of becoming a practising necromancer. Without a good education, she’d be working out of back alleys and dingy offices. If any Eternals decided they’d rather do a runner than pay her for the reanimation she performed to make them immortal, she’d have no back up. With no repercussions from a necromancy agency, they could also decide to kill her. But she had bigger problems right now, the biggest being that she’d arrive on SBA’s doorsteps only to have the teachers laugh in her face and send her home.

  It could have been a mistake, even though SBA didn’t make mistakes, even though its headteacher was one of the most powerful death magicians on earth. And even she didn’t know exactly what had happened last December. Kati had spent these nine months desperate to know the truth, defending her brother without fully knowing what happened that night, because he couldn’t possibly have hurt anyone. It wasn’t in his nature.

  And again, that damned Elizabethan prophecy echoed through the chambers of her mind, her pale fingers tightening on the cactus.

  The Wilson childe will unveil the Thievede Tower, uncovere the Black Brooms, and stop evil spreading through Seconde Breath Academy once more.

  Kati shuddered, happily shoving aside those words as the bus chugged up a smooth tarmac path between jagged rock and jade coloured grass and, once it crested the peak, a wide vista spread out around them.

  A low valley sat between forest-covered mountains, heavy rain clouds casting everything beneath them in shades of silver and grey, but rare sun rays managed to pick out highlights on a lake the colour of pewter cauldrons and on the conical roof of a monument Kati knew was the legendary Fountain.

  The whole scene was like something out of a travel magazine or a Windows 10 wallpaper. Well, if you ignored the black, spiky castle towering over the pastoral valley, its long halls like dragon’s wings pulled back, preceding flight, and towers punching into the sky at three of the four corners. It looked like the sort of place Dracula would rear his army of nightmare children. Fitting, for a school that taught death magic, reaping, and necromancy.

  Kati smirked as the bus let out a rattling groan and puttered its way down the path towards the valley, the academy, and the home that would shape Kati’s future, for better or worse.

  The academy didn’t technically exist. It wasn’t on any map, in any travelogue or book, and a cloak of magic hid it from prying eyes. You could only see it—and get in—with a moonstone key like the one that dangled from a rose-gold chain around Kati’s neck, no longer than her finger and fine enough to resemble bird’s bones fashioned into a filigree skull at its head.

  The valley itself was somewhere on the outskirts of York, and only the bus driver knew its exact location. The school was steeped in mystery and had been since the 1700s when it was established, with people disappearing for hours, others appearing without explanation across the other side of the academy, and a tower that had vanished ninety-n
ine years after it was built. But after what had happened ten years ago… Kati’s heart grew tight to think about it, the Black Brooms, the terror they’d spread, all the people they’d turned into blood puppets before slaughtering them when they’d outlived their use…

  “It’s exciting isn’t it?” a breathless voice asked, completely misreading Kati’s whole vibe.

  Kati turned, an eyebrow raised, to face the girl in the seat beside her. Taller than Kati—though that didn’t take much, at five foot nothing—with deep brown skin, an oval face, hair in a thick French braid, aqua-rimmed glasses perched on her straight nose, and eyes so wide with excitement that they dwarfed her face.

  Unlike Kati, who’d already put on her academy jumper, albeit with jeans, this girl wore a deep purple vest, smart trousers, and a long black coat with golden toggles. She looked stylish and sensible, and Kati wasn’t entirely sure why she was talking to her.

  Kati had what her parents described as a scowly look about her. Theo had called it resting bitch face; Kati knew he was right and also didn’t care. Her face was her face—if she glared at people, she glared at people. Besides, it stopped people from calling her things like cute and adorable because of her freckles and turned-up nose. Or worse, pinching her cheeks when her traitorous porcelain skin flushed at the attention, as if she was just too cute. Which she’d been called enough times. Hence, resting bitch face.

  But the RBF appeared to be malfunctioning. The girl in the seat beside her gave her a sunny smile, nodding towards the window. “We’re so close. Aren’t you excited?”

  Kati could have answered any number of ways. I’m so excited, I’ve wanted to come here since I was three. I’m nervous to meet our teachers. I’m a bit scared, I’ve never been away from home before, let alone lived in a dorm for three whole years with strangers. But she didn’t say any of those things. What was the point in making friends when they were going to drop her the second they learned who she was?

  Kati gave the friendly girl a flat look and said, “I’m Katriona Wilson.”

  The girl’s eyes flew wide, her mouth popping open, but after a second she held out her hand and said, “Naia Clarke.”

  Baffled, Kati shook her hand as the bus rattled through the iron gates onto Second Breath Academy grounds. Making friends was not part of her plan, but what the souls? It wasn’t like it could get much worse.

  WELCOME TO SECOND BREATH ACADEMY

  It got worse.

  The bus came to a juddering, gurgling stop just inside the gates. The winding valley road continued up ahead, leading to a circular driveway, an honest-to-gods bronze sculpture of some hero or other, and the jagged black castle, but the bus had stopped dead. Nerves gripped Kati, sending her stomach into knots as the engine powered down. Had something gone wrong? Had they found out Kati had been invited by accident? She waited for professors to swarm the bus, grab her by the arm, and haul her off.

  Instead, the aging driver groaned as he pushed out of the worn seat at the front of the bus, the percussive cracks of his bones joining students’ confused muttering as he turned to address all of them. “This is as far as I go,” he told them in a broad Yorkshire accent.

  “What?” a guy up the front of the bus demanded in a stuffy tone. “We’re meant to walk the rest of the way?”

  The driver’s eyes narrowed. “Got legs ant you?”

  Kati would have liked to see the guy’s face, imagining it screwed up in offense. He sounded like a right pompous twat. Beside Kati, Naia snickered, neatening the stack of books on her lap and picking up what had to be the biggest duffle bag Kati had ever seen.

  Kati grabbed her own bag off the floor, throwing it over her shoulder and not too bothered when it whacked into the window. She debated asking what the hell Naia had in that bag—it looked heavy—but that would involve talking and being friendly and Kati wasn’t in the mood.

  She followed Naia silently into the aisle between seats, stopping dead when a sharp female voice whipped across the bus behind her. “Katriona Wilson?”

  Kati turned at the venomous voice, the hatred dripping off it. Armour built itself around Kati’s heart, over her face, hiding any weakness from view. People were like sharks; any sense of blood and they’d rip her to shreds. She’d learned that pretty fucking quickly these past few months.

  “Yeah?” Kati demanded, meeting the dark, glaring eyes of the one who’d spoken: a tall Asian girl the same age as Kati—eighteen—with sleek, long black hair, dressed in a red gingham dress and an expensive-looking black coat. The bag draped over her arm was designer. Kati raised an eyebrow; she hadn’t realised she was attending a stuck up, rich kids’ school. “You got a problem?”

  The girl sneered. She might have been pretty, with her oval face, clear ivory skin, straight nose, and chocolate eyes, but the sneer ruined it for Kati. And the scorn twisting her voice when she spat, “I didn’t know they let psychopaths into SBA. Didn’t they learn their lesson with your dark lord of a brother?”

  It took a moment for the words to penetrate, whispers and muttering everywhere around her in response to her name, the accusation. Your dark lord of a brother. Kati was already wound up from expecting to be expelled; this was the last damn straw.

  Fury boiled through Kati and she launched across the aisle, ready to claw the girl’s sneer from her face, but a hand tugged at her sleeve and held her back. With effort, Kati turned her glare on Naia, the black girl wincing as the full weight of all Kati’s anger landed on her. But still she dared a glance at Kati and whispered, “She’s goading you. She’s trying to get a rise out of you.”

  Those words cleared Kati’s head enough for her to step back, giving Naia a tight nod. She faced the posh bitch again, narrowing her eyes but refusing to give her the reaction she wanted. “I didn’t realise they let stuck up bitches attend either, but here you stand as proof.”

  The girl’s expression pinched, like she’d swallowed a lemon.

  Kati grit her teeth and turned her back, not giving her another second of her time. The bus had fallen silent, but she acted like she hadn’t noticed. As if it didn’t affect her, the stares like knife wounds all over her skin, their judgement like poison eating away at her stomach lining.

  Again, as Kati stepped off the bus, her shoulders up by her ears and her fingers locked around the strap of her bag, she waited for professors to rush at her, grab her arms, and drag her off school grounds. But nothing bad happened. Well. Nothing worse than the whispers that followed her like a stalker off the bus and down the poker straight driveway, shadowing her all the way to the circular driveway and the bronze statue of a distinguished looking gentleman at its center.

  At least all the people on the path in front of Kati had got off the bus too early to hear the drama. Not that it would take long for news to circulate. And not that Kati thought she could get through a whole academy year without anyone hearing her name. But she’d barely had an hour of anonymity. It was callously unfair.

  “Just ignore her,” Naia said breathlessly, catching up to Kati and struggling with the heft of her duffle bag and her stack of books. Her turquoise glasses were askew on her face, her pupils blown wide with wonder the closer they got to the academy.

  “Why are you still talking to me?” Kati muttered, sliding a narrow look at the girl.

  Naia shrugged, her braid bouncing with the movement. “You don’t seem like a murderer to me. And anyway, just because your brother killed someone doesn’t mean you will. My brother’s a dentist but that doesn’t mean I’m going to perform a root canal.”

  Kati snorted before she could stop the sound escaping, and Naia grinned wide, the smile lighting up her amber eyes. She’d almost forgotten what it felt like to have a friend.

  The whispers followed Kati all the way to the huge carved oak doors of Second Breath Academy, twin skulls looking down on her with what seemed like disapproval, the SBA crest etched beneath each one—a shield containing a crossed wand, scythe, and athame, a necromancer’s knife. The giant
knockers looked to be made of yellowed finger bones.

  Kati told herself she couldn’t be sure the whispers were all about her, even if she heard her name thrown around not too far behind her. How long before the people in front started gossiping too? And then what about the rest of the school when they arrived on Sunday?

  Just keep your head down, she told herself. Pay attention in classes, get the work done, hide away in your room, and graduate without any danger, drama, or evil deeds.

  The words of the prophecy rippled through her mind again but Kati shut them out. No. It would be a perfectly ordinary academy term. Three months and she could go home for a break.

  Just three months.

  It sounded like forever.

  “Attention!” a whip-hard voice cut through the hushed talking, and Kati and Naia came to a stop behind the other students milling about around the statue. She craned her head, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman who’d spoken over heads and shoulders much taller than her, to no avail.

  This close, though, Kati could see more of the castle, the details in the jagged black bricks, the stained-glass windows casting rainbow light on the pale driveway and the wide stone steps. Above the great doors, and at periodic places on the floors above, crouched tiny gargoyles. They were nothing like the ones Kati had seen on holiday with her parents in Paris two years ago, which had looked small from afar but had been much bigger up close. These were tiny, no bigger than a house cat, and … no they actually were cats. Little squashed, pissy-looking cat gargoyles.

  “Attention!” the woman called again as the last stragglers caught up, joining the crowd amassed before the academy. “Shortly, I’ll take a register; if you don’t respond when your name is called, don’t expect to attend the academy. I’ll tolerate no wandering minds, no inattention, and especially no messing around. If you give me a false name or respond to a name that isn’t your own, you’ll be expelled.”