Academy of Magic Collection

by Angelique S Anderson et al.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Grace ran much faster than Eve, and Eve had a hard time making any ground to catch up with her. They were nearly in the dorm room before Grace spun around to face her.

  “Stop, Eve. There’s nothing to be said. There is no point chasing after me. Go back to your study session.”

  The hue of her eyes was darker with the glint of tears and her face was twisted, as if she were holding every muscle in it tight enough to keep the tears from brimming over.

  “Grace, it isn't-” Eve tried, but Grace quickly cut her off with a shake of her head.

  “Yes, it is. And we both know it.” She paused, turning away from Eve long enough to collect herself. “It’s okay. I just- I thought maybe you and I had something. I don’t know. You're the only one here I trust. The only one who has even a tiny clue of how it feels to be me. To lose your parent to this fucked up place.” She motioned at the dorm halls around them, but Eve knew what she meant.

  Eve had felt the pull to her since before she even opened their dorm room for the first time when she heard the sweet serenade of her music floating into the hallway. It was true that there was something between them. Something Eve couldn’t deny. But there was also something between her and Jonathan she couldn’t ignore.

  She’d never felt so torn in two. One side of her desperately longed to reach out and take Grace in her arms. Smooth her frizzy curls and wipe away her tears. Tell her that it was real. That she felt it too.

  But the other side of her was across campus, with Jonathan. Looking into his emerald eyes and hearing the soft lilt of his Irish accent.

  She wanted both. But she couldn’t have both. And as the seconds marched on, real life unforgiving of her confliction, Grace grew fidgety. Her leg bounced as her eyes locked on everything around them except Eve.

  Eve had to make a choice. In that instant, no time for debate.

  She needed Jonathan to survive. She knew it. Grace was talented, no doubt. But Jonathan was her best chance at defeating Phylis. Her best chance at making it out of this alive.

  Her best chance at keeping Grace alive.

  As if Grace could read her mind, and Eve wasn’t entirely sure she couldn’t with the insane amount of innate magical talent she held, she shook her head again. The tears finally betrayed her futile attempts to keep them in and fell down each cheek.

  “Go, Eve. We both know where you’d rather be. I got you the book. My job is done. Now do yours.”

  Grace turned and walked away, her shoulders hunched, her eyes trained on the dirty tile below.

  Eve took a breath before turning the opposite way and heading back to Jonathan’s office. She knew she was doing the right thing, but she didn’t know why it hurt so much. Wasn’t doing the right thing supposed to feel good? Wasn’t there supposed to be some reward for choosing the harder path for the good of everyone?

  She was still lost in her thoughts as she turned the carved door handle to the office and called out for Professor Moore. Which made it all the more startling when, instead of Jonathan, she looked inside to see Blade’s blonde hair sticking out from his top hat. He knelt over something on the ground and didn’t even look up as she approached.

  There was a couch separating them, and as Eve rounded it, it became apparent that it wasn't something on the floor but some one.

  Henry’s small beady eyes seemed even smaller as he lay still and unmoving on the ground below her. His pale skin somehow even paler.

  “What have you done?” She meant to shout, but little more than a whisper escaped her lips.

  “Ms. Revere, I assure you-”

  Eve backed up as Blade rose and began to walk toward her. “No, I know it’s you. I know you hold the demon. You think you have everyone fooled, but you don't.”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Whatever you think you know, you are wrong.” His eyes flickered to the bag she hadn’t realized slid off her shoulder as she retreated from him. The edge of that stupid book poked out, giving him all the information he needed. “You have the Compendium Maleficarum. The truth is in your hands. Just open your eyes, Evangeline.”

  She looked between him and the book. “My eyes are open. And yes, I have the book. Which means whatever you were trying to hide by keeping it from us will soon be discovered.”

  To Eve’s surprise, Blade’s shoulders relaxed, and he lowered himself onto the couch. He motioned for her to sit beside him but with Henry’s body still unnaturally still on the floor in front of them, she couldn’t bring herself to move at all.

  “Please, Evie. Sit.”

  Eve’s eyes narrowed into slits as anger boiled in her blood. “You have no right to call me that.”

  “I remember when your mother called to tell me she was having a girl. She was so ecstatic. You know, Evangeline wasn’t her first choice for a name.” His voice was soft, and his eyes were focused on something far away from the overly formal office.

  “Joanna,” she said at the same time as he.

  Eve shook her head rapidly, trying to clear the haze. He shouldn’t know this. Maybe it was some sort of trick. There were people here who could read minds, see memories; maybe he’d hired one to get information on her? Maybe the demon gave him the power to see it himself?

  “So you can reiterate facts about me, it doesn't convince me you aren’t the demon. It doesn't mean anything.”

  He slid a hand over his face before trying again. “Your mother and I started at Faust at the same time. She was unnaturally good at everything, so much so that it drove me insane with jealousy. But she was beautiful. So beautiful I couldn’t hate her for her talent. I was in awe and in love from the moment she started her trials.”

  She placed a hand on her hip. “I really don’t need to know about how you wanted to fuck my mom.”

  “No,” he chuckled, “I guess you don’t need to know that part. But she had a boyfriend back home anyway. Revere. So I settled for being her best friend and confidante. When-” his voice broke and he cleared his throat. “When she was forced to summon Faust and banish the demon, I was by her side.”

  “So what? The demon must have recognized you and sought a familiar face. You’re just proving my point.”

  “No, Evie.”

  “I said don’t call me that.”

  “Evangeline then. I’m not the enemy here.” He leaned over and slid the book the rest of the way out of her bag before picking it up and opening to a marked page. “Right here,” he said as he handed her the book. “This is my proof. Once you look at this, I believe your convictions will change.”

  “There is nothing in that book that could convince me you aren’t Phylis.”

  “Read it. For the sake of everyone in this school, including yourself. I’ve looked into the eyes of that demon before and lived to tell the tale. You don’t escape that without being able to recognize it when it happens again.”

  Eve looked at the page where an illustration of a pair of golden eyes stared back at her with a guide for recognizing the host.

  Amplified emotions

  A golden tint to the eyes in low lighting

  Intense self-destructive behavior

  Self-control issues

  Was this the description of Mephistopheles or a pamphlet for mental health problems?

  The candlelight in the room flickered and returned her memory to a moment after Grace walked into the room and caught her and Jonathan together.

  The golden glint in his eye.

  “No,” she whispered as the book fell to the floor. “No. No. No.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  While Eve sat against the wall with her head in her hands, Blade paced the floor with his hands clasped behind his back as he spoke without looking at her.

  “Jonathan has always been powerful. As a student, he rose through Faust faster than anyone else ever has. It only makes sense the demon would seek him out as a host for this reincarnation.”

  Though she heard everything he said, Blade’s words faded in a
nd out of Eve’s thoughts as she came to her own realizations.

  Grace’s protective circle within their dorm and Jonathan’s reluctance to enter the room. The way his feelings for her seemed almost instantaneous, so much so that he was ready to put his position at the school in jeopardy just to be near her.

  As Eve started to wonder if any of those feelings were ever real or if they were all merely a side effect of Phylis’ possession, Blade stopped in front of her, his gaze boring a hole straight into her.

  “We should have seen it.”

  She rolled her eyes. Yeah, she should have— would have— if she hadn’t let that stupid Irish accent get under her skin. “He was very convincing,” was all she said in response.

  “No, Eve. We should have physically seen the demon inhabit his body during the summoning. It was your first circle at the trial, correct?”

  Eve nodded.

  Blade began to rustle through the pages of the discarded book. “Then there should have been some reaction. Some indication the demon was released. The way your mother reacted when you summoned her, it was almost as if Jonathan was already possessed.”

  “She did that again when I summoned her a second time.”

  He looked up from the book. “It would have been impossible to summon your mother again. Surely Jonathan taught you that in your lessons.”

  “Well, I did. She was there. Telling me to stop this. To get away.”

  “While your mother was a powerful woman in life, death is the great equalizer. That first summon should have exhausted her remaining energy tied to this realm. The only entity who has been able to be summoned multiple times is Faust, and even then, only for obvious reasons.”

  Concern lingered around the edges of Blade’s eyes while Eve turned the information over and over in her brain. She still couldn’t believe any of this was happening. It was like she was transported into some sick, twisted murder mystery theater with much higher stakes. Henry was already dead. Who would be next? And was he even the first? How far would this go? How many more people would die?

  She didn’t have long to process any of her internal questions because footsteps soon sounded through the hallway outside of the door.

  She knew that casual stroll.

  Jonathan was returning to his office, and she had to make up her mind quickly. Did she believe Blade? Believe the book? Or did she swallow all her doubts and ignore the red flags and believe in Jonathan?

  Her mother’s face flashed before her, but at the same time, it was not her mother at all. Instead, it was the evil-looking creature that took her place anytime she saw Jonathan.

  She didn’t react that way to anyone else, didn’t go after Blade or Grace when they were near.

  So often she’d fought her mother's advice when she was alive. As a teenager, she thought her mother’s life was small, insignificant to the rest of the world. She was a mom and a wife but beyond that, what could she possibly know about the outside world?

  Now it was obvious that everything she thought she knew about her mother was wrong. That maybe she knew more than Eve gave her credit for. And maybe after all that time, her mother knew what would happen, and was not trying to keep her from living her life, but trying to save it.

  As the realization that her mother, or at least some twisted version of her mother, had only been trying to warn her, Eve stomped her foot out of sheer frustration. “Fuck,” she whispered to herself.

  She’d have time for more contemplation about her mother’s effect on her life later, but for now, she was solely focused on Jonathan. On what this change of circumstances meant and how she could fix things.

  The weight of the entire school— hell, the entire world— rested on her shoulders.

  Blade must have heard him approach as well, for he took up position at the door, ready for a battle. But Eve was considering a different approach. She knew she wasn’t ready for a fight against a demon. There were circles to form and objects to gather and she hoped she’d be able to somehow convince Grace to help when she was ready.

  After all, even if she did hate her right now, her life would be in jeopardy if they didn’t banish the demon back to wherever it came from.

  “Wait,” she hissed just loud enough for Blade to hear. “Hide.”

  Blade, for all his stubbornness, did not argue with her. He crammed his long elegant limbs behind a bookcase just as the doorknob started to turn.

  She watched him disappear and had to think quickly. She’d need more than just her theatrical skills to get through this. Quickly, she looked over to Jonathan’s desk, and there— on top was what looked like a pocketknife. Perhaps it was an ornate letter opener, but it didn’t matter. She picked it up and slipped it into the pocket of her jeans before she moved back to the middle of the office.

  “You’ve got this, Eve,” she reminded herself out loud. “You played Juliet in the summer camp’s play in 8th grade. You can play this part too.”

  It was showtime.

  The door opened and she threw herself into hysterics. Fake tears, flailing hands, the whole shebang. Tone it down some, a voice she thought might have been her elusive conscious said inside her mind.

  “What’s going on?” Jonathan asked as she threw herself against his chest. He still smelled wonderful. She guessed even demon possession couldn’t change that.

  “Henry,” she screamed. “Blade killed him!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Eve felt Jonathan stiffen under her arms, before he relaxed as he processed the words. He gently held her out at arm's length. “We knew it wouldn’t be long before Phylis struck.”

  Mock horror crossed Eve’s face. “What do we do? How do we stop this before it happens again?” She was pretty sure she was stealing her lines from an old horror movie, but she didn’t have time to come up with anything more convincing.

  “It is imperative that Grace gets the book from Blade. Everything we need to summon Faust is within it.”

  Eve suddenly realized that it wasn’t until after she’d already left his sight that she found the book discarded in the hallway. She discreetly surveyed the room, hoping like hell it wasn’t sitting out somewhere.

  Thankfully, Blade must have had the foresight to hide it or place it in his jacket pocket like she’d seen him do before. Anything to keep it away from Jonathan’s sight… and grasp.

  “I guess I should check with Grace on how her plan is going. But first, don’t we need to report Henry’s death to Dean Hilborn? Isn’t there something we can do?”

  Jonathan fidgeted with the cuff of his shirt sleeve before answering. “Go ahead, Ms. Revere. Since you discovered the body the responsibility should be on your shoulders.”

  “Please,” she said as she batted her eyes and held tight to his forearm. “Please come with me. I can’t do this alone.”

  It was the truest thing she’d said since he returned to his office. Only now was Henry’s death starting to hit her. It was real. The vibrant, somewhat annoying, ever mysterious Henry was gone and, in his place, a stiff cold body.

  And it was her fault. Because she had shown up at this horrible place. Because she performed a summoning. Because she just so happened to be the reincarnation of some old dude who made a stupid deal with the devil.

  She couldn’t do this on her own. She was just as responsible as Jonathan. Just as responsible as Mephistopheles.

  Plus, she needed Jonathan out of the room so Blade could leave without being discovered.

  He sighed, but to her relief turned on his booted heel towards the hallway. “I do not have time for this distraction, Evangeline. We will have to make this quick.”

  A distraction. That's all Henry’s death was to him. Not the loss of a student Not a person. Not a young man struck down in the prime of his life. Even if Eve hadn’t realized he was possessed, his choice of wording would have set her teeth on edge.

  He was just as blunt with Dean Hilborn, just as cold, as they were questioned and Eve had to relay the story of how
she found her guide, her mentor, dead on the floor of Jonathan’s office.

  Of course, she twisted the story for Jonathan’s benefit. She’d come to his office for advice on an assignment, found Blade escaping, and then discovered Henry’s body.

  “It was obviously a set-up,” Jonathan added. “You know Blade has been after my job since I started. He is threatened by my abilities.”

  The grey-haired, plump man who somehow managed to make his way through the ladder to dean despite his bubbliness, sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “We are all threatened by your abilities, Jonathan. You are the only student to ever rise through all four years of schooling in barely twelve months. And that includes all the reincarnations of Faust. But Sebastian would never go as far as murder.”

  “Unless he was possessed,” Jonathan added as he leaned forward in the office chair to stare down Dean Hilborn.

  The dean leaned back in his chair; his arms crossed over the round bump of his stomach. “That is a heavy accusation to throw around, Professor Moore.”

  Jonathan didn’t back down. It was clear this man did not intimidate him the way a person of power should. “It is a heavy situation.”

  “And what leads you to believe that Phylis has taken up residence inside the head Magic of Muses professor? It goes against history in many ways, least of not that it has always been a fellow student and never a Marlowe.”

  Jonathan turned away from the dean to stare at Eve intensely. “Well for one,” he continued, not speaking to her but looking at her, “his obsession with Ms. Revere. He insisted on being at all of her trials, despite already failing in his subject.”

  Eve knew why now. His ever-vigilant presence in her life made sense. When he saw her, he didn’t see Evangeline Revere. He saw Rosamond Clark. He saw her mother.

  She didn’t dare let them in on this information though. She was starting to discover just how easily her alliances shifted. In this world where fiction was reality and everything she knew was wrong, she didn’t know who to trust.