Blood Haven: Year Two: A Mayhem of Magic World Story

by Nicole Zoltack

  “Who says there is a girl?” I ask, crossing my arms.

  “You do,” Dad says with a laugh. “That facial expression? Son, we know you. You’re an open book. Don’t make your mom wait forever to meet her.”

  I throw up my hands. “It’s time for me to get going.”

  “When can we expect the two of you?” Mom asks.

  I stare at her without blinking. “I, ah, need to say goodbye to the kids.”

  Like a coward, I run back to the dining area and give them all hugs and kisses and more hugs because, apparently, one isn't good enough. By the time I make it back to the living room, Mom's not in the room. Dad is. The babies aren't in here either, so I figure Mom's probably putting them down to rest.

  Dad crosses his arms and stares me down. “What is it about her? We love her already. If you’re afraid we won’t approve—”

  “I don’t know if you’ll approve or not.”

  “Why wouldn’t we?”

  “She’s not a werewolf.”

  Dad shrugs. “You wouldn’t be the first to fall in love with someone who doesn’t have a wolf inside of her.”

  “I know, but she’s not a human. She’s not a witch.”

  “A demon?” Dad asks slowly.

  “No, and what if she was?” I ask. “Just for curiosity’s sake. Why are you worried I love a demon?”

  “I’m not worried. I’m just wondering what has my son so anxious. Love shouldn’t make you afraid, son.”

  “It does. It terrifies me. She means everything to me, and that love, it could destroy her, destroy me. It could bring so much crashing down all around us.” I hesitate. “It could even bring these walls down, and I won’t have that. I’m going to try to keep you out of this.”

  “Just who is she?” Mom asks. “Why are you worried that your being with her will make the entire world fall apart?”

  “You trust me, right, Mom?”

  “Yes, of course, but—”

  “Then believe me when I say that you don’t want to meet her.”

  “Not now,” Mom says slowly. “Not ever?”

  I rub the back of my neck. “Maybe one day.”

  “Maybe? Julian, I don’t like the sound of this. Is she getting you into some kind of trouble?” Mom glances at Dad.

  “No. She’s not getting me into anything. You would like her, but… You just have to accept that this is how it has to be. I know it’s hard for you to understand, to accept this, but I can’t give you more details. I just can’t. Trust me. One day, you’ll understand.”

  Dad comes forward first, gives me a hard hug, and slaps me on the back twice. “If you’re sure…”

  “I’m sure. I won’t let anything happen to her or any of you.”

  “Spoken like he’s an alpha already,” Dad murmurs to Mom out of the side of his mouth.

  “Hmm.” Mom steps forward and holds either side of my face, scrutinizing me critically. “Are you sure about this? It sounds complicated, and love—”

  “My love isn’t complicated. It’s as simple and easy as breathing. It’s everything else that’s complicating matters.”

  “Let him go,” Dad murmurs. “Remember when we felt like it was us against the world?”

  I give my mom a hug and kiss, and I’m off.

  Dad’s words haunt me. The thing is, Mom and Dad just felt like it was them against the world. For Romelia and I, that’s our reality.

  Chapter 4

  Romelia

  Tyra Bloodsworth compares our class schedules and huffs a sigh. “How is it possible that we don’t have one class together? Although your classes sound like fun. You’re going to be all about control.”

  I laugh as my cousin tosses me my schedule. “Believe me. So long as I can have some control in my life, that’s fine with me.

  “Mind Control, Elemental Control, Animal Control… and Fog Generation. If you have all that, you’ll be ready to take over the world.” Tyra snaps her fingers, her golden brown hair falling out of her updo. She sighs and starts to fiddle with it before sighing again and just letting it loose.

  “You’ll have some fun,” I protest. “Blood Magic is interesting.”

  “Didn’t you almost fail that one? And who fails Wallcrawling?”

  “Just you wait. I hope you struggle with it as much this year as I did last year.”

  She laughs. “I could climb walls like a monkey when I was two.”

  “Did you fling poo too?”

  “You did not!” She bursts out laughing. “You’re so happy.”

  Just like that, she’s suspicious.

  “Why are you so happy?”

  “Can’t I be happy that our second year is about to start?” I ask.

  “Hmm, why is that a good thing?”

  "Because after our second year is another break."

  And I can get married.

  “That smile.” Tyra wags a finger at me. “You’re hiding something. I’m going to figure out what it is, so you might as well just tell me.”

  “Nope.”

  “Why? Because there’s nothing to tell, or you just aren’t going to tell me?” She lifts her chin.

  "I have to go. I don't want to be late for the first class our first day."

  “But—”

  And I’m off to the races, using my vampiric speed.

  I honestly didn’t have to leave just yet, and I certainly didn’t need my superspeed, but that’s all right. I do want to start the year off right.

  Last year, Conversion had been a challenge, while the best part of Blood Magic had been the professor. He and I had some interesting philosophical discussions. Marius Cross. Weapons had been awkward at first, but once I opened my mind and actually tried to learn, it was fairly simple to learn how to use various instruments of death as the professor liked to call them. One of the reasons why I was able to pick it up so easily once I tried is due to the fact that my father forced me to take dancing lessons. Not just ballet either. Ballroom dancing, swing… My mother thought it a great idea, and she taught me the waltz herself. I think she enjoyed all of my dance lessons because it reminded her of her youth or at least her younger years.

  My last class besides Wallcrawling had been Misting, and honestly, that's some of the reasons why I had such a difficult time with Wallcrawling. Misting is a type of movement, basically, that allows a vampire to get from one place to another. It's a precursor to shifting into fog or mist. Not all vampires can do the same abilities, with older vampires having more abilities than younger ones, and living vampires different from those made from bites.

  I’m the first one to arrive at my class. Fog Generation. I don’t know who the professor is. Tyra might’ve told me before since she had it last year, but I don’t remember.

  I can have my first choice out of the seats arranged in even rows and columns, but I’m not sure which one to pick.

  “Romelia Covenshade.”

  I bristle. The voice is one I’ve only heard from afar, and I bristle, unable to hold entirely still.

  “You’ve avoided me for so long,” he says, walking around so I have no choice but to look at him.

  Constantine Crowe. The vampire my parents have picked out for me, the one who Tyra has spoken to on occasion for me, the one who acts as if he possesses me already.

  Like all vampires, he has red eyes, and they pierce through me. It takes everything in me to not grimace.

  He runs a hand through his slicked-back black hair before holding out his hand. I suppose a handshake wouldn’t be too much. If it gets back to my parents that I was flat-out rude to Constantine… Besides, it’s not his fault I fell in love before I met him… although it is his fault for acting possessive. Then again, he hasn’t been possessive in front of me.

  Yet.

  I hold out my hand, but the moment we touch, he’s stepping forward to turn it into a hug. I stand completely still and even yank my hand from his grasp before he backs away.

  “I would have enjoyed tutoring you last year as
our parents arranged,” he says, adjusting his blazer, seemingly unfazed by my retreating from him. “Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to have summer classes. How did that go, by the way?”

  I glance around him to the door. Why aren’t any of the other students showing up? No way am I picking a seat just yet because I do not want to have to sit next to Chatterbox Constantine.

  “Maybe we can eat lunch together today,” he says. “How does that sound? I know a spot where we can drink alone, a nice secluded spot. You’ll love it.”

  “Are you sure about that?” I ask.

  “That you’ll love it? Yes.” He grins. His fangs are so white it makes me wonder if he’s ever drunk blood before.

  “You don’t know me to know what I’ll love.”

  “I think you’ll be surprised.”

  “Why? Because my mother told you what I like and what I don’t?”

  “I don’t need your mother to tell me what you prefer.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes.”

  Thankfully, a few students enter, and I rush over to one girl I barely know and talk to her, standing by her desk, waiting and hoping that the desks would fill and that I can claim the last one.

  Only Constantine foils me by saving two for him and me. He gestures for me to take the one in front of the other, but I take the one in back. The last thing I want is for him to lean forward and breathe on my neck all the time.

  The moment class is over, I bolt over to Mind Control, where we'll learn about hypnosis as well as compulsion. As with other powers, the older the vampire, the stronger their compulsion to the point that some vampires can compel other vampires to do their bidding. I think this class will be fascinating, even if I don't plan to put a lot of it into practice.

  Again, Constantine is in this class, but this time, I manage to avoid him and sit on the other side of the room.

  After introducing herself, Professor Christina Le Doux walks up and down the aisle. “Do I have a volunteer?” she asks.

  I raise my hand. “I volunteer Constantine,” I say.”

  The professor smiles and shakes her head. “I’m only accepting those who wish to be volunteers.”

  “That’s fine.” Constantine stands. “I volunteer.” He smiles at me, but I continue to look at the professor.

  “Constantine,” the professor says. “Can you count backward from ten?”

  “Of course. Ten, nine—”

  “In Spanish.”

  “—ocho, siete—”

  “In Dutch.”

  “—zes, viji—”

  “In Samoan.”

  “—fa, tolu—”

  “In Latin.”

  “—duo, unus.”

  “Very good. Now turn into a bat.”

  Many of the students start to whisper. No one is allowed to take Transformation until their third year, and vampires can only change into certain animals—bats and rats or one large bat or a small one, the same with rats. We don’t possess the ability to shapeshift into just anything we want.

  From what I heard, most students are first taught how to turn into multiple bats. Given their bodies are so much smaller than ours, to turn into just one is an incredible feat that only those severely proficient in the art of transforming themselves will be able to perform such an act.

  But Constantine tries. His face shifts and grows fur, his arms turn into wings, and I think he just might do it when he stalls, some kind of half-man, half-bat hybrid.

  “Constantine, you can revert back and sit down.”

  Constantine reverts back, but he glances around. “Are you going to try to compel me?” he asks.

  “Sit, Constantine,” the professor says as she marches to the front of the room, her hands clasped behind her back. “As you can see, Constantine attempted to do everything I asked, and while it’s possible he is proficient with languages, to attempt transformation and to get so close… You did well, Constantine, even if I did get into your head.”

  At the end of class, before I can dart away, Constantine pins me. “What Professor Christina Le Doux doesn’t realize is that I can transform into twenty-five bats. That’s down from fifty. I’ll get down to one before next year starts. That’s my goal. Do you want me to help you, Romelia?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “It’s lunchtime. Shall we?”

  “I already promised Tyra I would see her.”

  “You can see her another time.”

  “I’ll decide when I see my friends. Excuse me.”

  And I dart around him, leaving him in the dust.

  Tyra, though, is busy talking to a few other vampires, which means I have some time to text Julian. He's been telling me bits and pieces about his morning. I think it's so very sweet he ate breakfast with his family this morning. It's a wonderful way for him to start out the year.

  Unfortunately, my first day has gotten off to a bit of a rocky start, and it only gets worse. Constantine is in both Elemental Control and Animal Control. Yes, he's in my every class this year. I just know my father had a hand in this, or maybe my mother did.

  No matter. As old as Mother is, she's never compelled me to do something, so Mind Control is one class where you can be certain I'm going to learn every loophole. As much as I don't want to control anyone else's mind, I also don't want anyone else to control me. Not my mother. Not my father, and not some boy they found for me.

  I have Julian. He’s all I need.

  Chapter 5

  Julian

  My morning is uneventful and a little boring, but now it's lunchtime. Instead of wanting to eat, I'm more concerned with Romelia. Can I risk calling her? Just because someone might overhear our conversation doesn't mean that they'll realize that she is a vampire or that I'm a werewolf. We can risk it, right?

  But we shouldn’t. We have to keep the engagement a secret.

  This break, the summer, it had been wonderful, everything I could have hoped for and more. Every day, we spent some time together. Now, we're apart again, and I feel as if my soul has been ripped from my body. I'm missing the best part of me.

  The engagement is missing one part, though—a ring. I have plans to rectify that. She deserves a ring, and she will have one. I will try to find a job on campus to be able to afford the wedding Romelia wants. Just because it will be low-key doesn’t mean it can’t be perfect. Plus, in addition to an engagement ring, we also need wedding rings.

  We will wear our wedding rings. We’ll have to face the consequences after we’re wed, but we will. We’ll face them as husband and wife.

  Or maybe I should buy her a gold chain so she can wear her ring on the chain. Or we can wear them on our right hands. As much as I hate to hide in the shadows—believe me, I want to scream from the rooftops about my love for Romelia—I know I can't. For us to survive, for now at least, we have to keep things between us. One day, we won't have to live in fear.

  At least, that’s my hope.

  But how can I be so certain of that? Werewolves and vampires have hated each other for their entire existence. In a way, it's so very cruel that the other half of my soul resides in a vampire and not another.

  Or maybe this has been done intentionally, whether by nature or a higher being. Maybe this is the way for love to heal a divide that has lasted for far too long. Is our love so great that we can open the eyes of the werewolves and vampires? That we can open their hearts? Or will our eyes be the ones forever shut?

  So, with great reluctance, I don’t call my love. We text about our morning.

  You had breakfast with your family? What a wonderful start to the day. I’m so glad.

  I wish you had been there, I text back.

  Maybe one day.

  A low growl bursts out of me. I hate that I feel like I can't introduce Romelia to my parents. As much as I want that, I know I can't risk it. If anything were to happen to my family as a result, I would never forgive myself. My feelings for Romelia are true and pure, but the hatred roiling in so many others d
ampens it. Not enough for me to give Romelia up. That will never happen. I need her as much as I need my pack.

  But that's just it. Wolves need their packs. A pack of two just isn't enough. Wolves aren't meant to be alone. We live in packs for a reason. We're stronger together, and our magic is stronger together. We're connected, tethered in a way that vampires, witches, and humans aren't.

  Yes, when a werewolf couple gets married, they can start a new pack, but they know they’ll have pups. Romelia and I… We’ve almost talked about us having children, but there remains a possibility that we might not have any, and if we did…

  Maybe we shouldn’t even try to have children. The potential for scorn and hatred their entire lives, of prejudice… Would we have to hide them away too for their safety? What kind of life would that be?

  I don’t often scowl when I’m texting Romelia, but I am now. I’m so frustrated and furious that my fingers are turning into claws. This isn’t right, and it isn’t fair.

  But it’s my reality—the reality of a werewolf loving a vampire.

  I’m sitting at a bench at a table all by myself, but I’m not alone for long as Bermon Von Hagen plops beside me. “You didn’t get yourself any food,” he comments as he shoves a tray toward me.

  “I’m not hungry,” I mumble.

  He shrugs as he starts to eat a massive cheeseburger overflowing with condiments to the point that some fall down with every bite. “I’ll eat your burger then.”

  I lift an eyebrow.

  “What? I’m a growing boy?” he says.

  "Growing fatter, not taller."

  “My growth plates aren’t closed yet. I grew at least two inches over the break.”

  It’s true. Bermon does seem taller, and he had already been six feet three.

  “One more inch, and I’ll match you,” he says.

  I shrug. “Not a competition.”

  “No? What’s gotten into you? I thought you were having a wonderful time here with summer school.”

  Mercy Lance comes over and sits across from Bermon. “Hello, boys,” she says brightly.

  “Why are you so cheerful?” I grumble.

  “Why are you so down in the dumps?” she asks, looking from me to Bermon.