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

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Blood Haven: Year Two: A Mayhem of Magic World Story Page 12

by Nicole Zoltack


  Pablo heaves a sigh. “I have no place to go,” he says. “Starfell… I’m the last one. My mamá died giving birth to me. Doesn’t happen often, but she was human. My papá ran off. I heard he lives among wolves somewhere on the West Coast. I’m the last one. If I don’t have the academy, I have nowhere.”

  “So you don’t want to return... Why exactly?” I ask, baffled. I’m so confused I scratch the back of my neck.

  “If I go back and have to go to the infirmary, I’ll be kicked out. If I can just last a bit longer… I can sneak back. It’ll all be good.”

  I grit my teeth. “You’re badly off. Werewolves heal fast but not instantly. You need medical attention.”

  “You want to help, help the others. Leave me.”

  There’s no arguing with him. That much is clear, so I turn to the nearest werewolf, Aura Snowblood. Normally, her face is tanned year-round, but right now, it’s as white as snow, her cheeks as red as blood, making her name all that much more evident.

  “Let me help you,” I plead.

  She allows me to drape one of her arms around my neck, and I wrap the other around her waist to help guide her. Aura waits until we're away from the others to murmur, "You smell like a vampire."

  I still. Maybe the others hadn’t realized Romelia is a vampire. We had been standing in the shadows.

  “You do too,” I finally mutter. “Pablo and the others… Maybe you’re just smelling yourself, or Pablo’s scent on me.”

  “Maybe,” she mutters.

  “This your second strike too?”

  “Yeah, we’re all friends, and we… We came out last time because we wanted to stir up trouble. I’ll admit that, but not… not this time. Just want…”

  “Freedom?”

  “Yeah. We don’t like being told what to do by outsiders.” Aura growls, the sound much stronger than her appearance. She is leaning against me hard, relying on me for every step.

  “Think of the headmaster as a second alpha.”

  The scoffing sound emitted from her is a bit weak, and I grimace. I hate that they’re all so wounded and weak.

  As soon as we reach the border, the werewolves on patrol descend on us. They take Aura from me and then demand that I step foot back onto campus. They even lay hands on me, trying to force me to comply, but I shake them off and shift into my wolf, and I'm racing back to the others. One by one, sometimes two at once, I bring them all back until only Pablo is left.

  I eye the Hispanic. “Is there any way I can sneak you back on campus? The others, their packs will offer them protection, possibly fight the academy so they can be reinstated…”

  “But I have no one.”

  “I know we aren’t the closest of friends, but I am more than willing to talk to my alpha, to see if—”

  “I don’t want charity.”

  “Is what your dad did to you? Charity? You’ve been surviving on your own, and you have your friends. You’re forming your own pack of sorts, but you can join a real pack.”

  Pablo exhales a deep breath. “I’m almost better.”

  “You still smell of blood, and you look like you’ve been in a fight.”

  “You’re covered in blood too,” he says stubbornly.

  “Yes, but it’s not my blood,” I point out.

  In the end, he rushes to a stream to wash away the blood. By now, the sun is rising fairly high in the sky, and he dries off before we arrive.

  The guards are all congregated in a spot, and we nearly slip by them when I turn back, motion Pablo away, and approach them.

  “What’s going on?” I ask nonchalantly.

  The guards eye me. The one I spoke to earlier pulls away from the others.

  “You did a lot for the others, helping them back even if they got themselves into trouble. Did they call you? Is that why you sneaked away? Or were you the only one to not get injured?”

  I open my mouth, but no words come out.

  He grunts. “I guess it doesn’t matter. This is the last straw. Come noon, we’re all to head to the Imperial Meadow.”

  I gape at him. “Isn’t that the site—”

  “Where the witches and the vampires stopped their fighting oh about five hundred years ago? Yes. The flowers that grow there are said to have a calming effect on all paranormal creatures, so maybe when the headmasters—”

  “Headmasters?”

  “Yes. Those attending Moonstone and Blood Haven will be in attendance. This little battle was the last straw. The headmasters will address you all, and maybe…”

  He barks a bitter laugh, and it’s clear to see that he thinks nothing will change, but who knows? This might be exactly what Romelia and I need.

  Hope. That’s how I feel. Hopeful. Is it possible to think that the headmasters of the two academies will be able to stop the bloodshed? The lockdowns have been a joke. Will nothing stop the two sides from meeting in conflicts that result in injuries and death? As grateful as I am that the lockdowns haven’t prevented me from seeing Romelia, I would rather have to be apart from her for longer just so that my werewolf brethren do not have to perish.

  But what if the headmasters only seek peace to the point of finding a way to stopping the fighting without attempting to truly bring about a resolution to the underlying conflict? If the hatred isn't addressed and removed from the hearts and minds of the werewolves and vampires, nothing will change. Yes, they might find a way to have spells that prevent our leaving our respective campuses, but once the school year is over, then what? We'll be released to our packs, but what if the alphas want to go to war with the vampires? There will be nothing to hold us back then, and yes, the break is only for eight weeks, but if we go to war, it's possible our alphas will forbid us to attend next year. The war might take over our lives… if we live that long.

  Imperial Meadows is a lovely stretch of land with all kinds of flowers growing. Each has a different scent, and it overwhelms the senses. The werewolves are all on one side, the vampires gathered on the other, and I can’t see Romelia anywhere. Is she looking for me? Should I text her? No, now isn’t the time. We almost had been caught last night. As it is, the vampires already suspect me. They targeted me for an attack. I won’t risk having Romelia singled out by the werewolves.

  Headmaster Virgil Thorn slinks with all the natural grace of his inner wolf toward the no man's land. His counterpart, Headmaster Ambrose Mandrake, stalks toward him, looking very much like a predator. Ironically enough, both headmasters have black hair, but the headmaster of the werewolves has permanently amber eyes, whereas the vampire has dark red eyes.

  The two murmur for a moment, so low that I can’t hear, and I doubt even the vampires can either. Then the headmasters turn their backs to each other to face their students.

  “The fighting must stop,” Headmaster Ambrose dictates.

  “The vampire is right,” Headmaster Virgil states.

  The werewolf’s words cause his students to all howl and boo. It seems that I alone say nothing. Bermon might not either, but the crowd is so huge that I hadn’t been able to locate my friends in it.

  “The only way to ensure the safety of our students is if this feud is laid to rest,” Headmaster Ambrose adds.

  “Your safety is paramount,” Headmaster Virgil continues.

  “Our safety? What about safety from their fangs?” a werewolf calls out.

  “What about their wolves? They’re nothing but filthy animals,” a vampire shoots back.

  “Vampires and werewolves—” Headmaster Virgil starts.

  “Have been killing each other since they first came to be. It’s in our blood.”

  That voice is eerily familiar, and my jaw drops as I recognize the speaker as one of the professors here at Moonstone.

  If even the professors want the war…

  I push my way through the crowd, and I slowly realize that none of the students I helped to the infirmary are here. Maybe they’re still recovering, but Pablo isn’t in sight either.

  The guard I sp
oke to yesterday comes over to me. “You’re being disruptive toward the other students,” he grumbles.

  “Do you know of Pablo Starfell?” I ask desperately.

  “I can’t say that I do. Why?” The guard narrows his eyes.

  I shake my head and slip back into the crowd. Maybe I should be listening to the speech more, but the headmasters have already lost. If they thought that mere words would be enough to stop hatred, they’re so very wrong. The prejudice is buried deep in too many of the werewolves and vampires.

  My fingers shake, but I manage to locate Pablo’s number, and I text him.

  Where are you?

  I couldn’t take it anymore.

  Where are you!

  I left.

  Gone where? My breath comes out as a growl.

  To try to find my papá.

  And if you can’t? What if he doesn’t want you around?

  I’ll try for a month. If I can’t find him, I’ll return.

  A month? It’s getting on toward the end of the school year.

  Will your offer stand in a month? If it doesn’t work out? Will you talk to your alpha on my behalf?

  Yes, of course. I’ll talk to him today if you want.

  No. no, I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t try to find my papá. A month. Hopefully, I won't be seeing you again.

  Be careful, Pablo.

  I doubt my papá lives near vampires. I’ll be safe.

  Another growl slips out. This all feels so very wrong, but Pablo has to do what he feels is right.

  Then again, so many werewolves and vampires think it’s right to go out and attack the other kind. Somehow, our consciences have become mutated, terrible.

  Evil.

  Humans would fear us if they knew about us, and that fear would not be misplaced, a fact that does not sit well with me at all.

  Chapter 19

  Julian

  I thought witches. I'm right but also wrong because Headmaster Virgil also brings in grim reapers too. Let me tell you, grim reapers are creepy. Even when they're in their disguised human forms, there is something very unnerving about them. Considering it takes a lot to unnerve me, that's saying something.

  Between the spells the witches use, the magical barriers they erect, and the grim reapers with their veiled threat of death coming soon for us, there’s a semblance of peace. Honestly, it’s only because we physically cannot leave the academy grounds. It’s frustrating, to be sure, especially because I often think about the last time I saw Romelia and recall how I sent her away. I wish so much that I had the strength to kiss her then despite the potential that we would have been seen. I miss seeing her, although we have been able to text and even sneak a few phone calls now and again.

  The month passes, and I call Pablo. I’ve tried to text him every week, but he’s never returned any of them. Maybe he’s somewhere that doesn’t have good cell reception, but the phone is ringing. Will he pick up? Is he all right? Did he find—

  “Julian.”

  “Pablo, you sound breathless. Are you all right?”

  “I… Yes. I’m fine.” He chuckles.

  “Why do you sound so strange?”

  “I’m just busy.”

  “Busy doing what? Did you find your dad?”

  “Can I call you back?”

  "Pablo, I've been really worried about you. Can you just… Are you sure you're okay?"

  He says something muffled, obviously talking to someone else. “Give me a sec.”

  I wait impatiently.

  “I’m better than okay. I’m perfect.”

  "So, you found your dad?"

  “No. But I found something better.”

  “You did?” I ask, surprised. “What?”

  “Not what. Who.”

  “Who?” I repeat.

  “Whitewolf,” he says proudly, as if that should mean something to me.

  “Whitewolf,” I echo.

  “My mamá’s pack. We’re thinking about crossing.”

  “Crossing?”

  “The border. Down to Mexico. I think I want to do this.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. The werewolves here, they’re my true pack. They’re my blood. I know you said I was making friends there at the academy, that I was making a new pack, but I never would’ve been able to survive. Not after the academy. There, I had no real future. I was just trying to get by, and my friends, they would’ve returned to their packs after the third year. Here, with Whitewolf, we are a family. There’s an alpha, but she listens to us all.”

  “She?”

  “My tía." He sounds so exultant, and I can just picture him puffing out his chest.

  “That’s… Wow.”

  "Yes, and it gets better. I've met someone, Julian, and I know I've known her for seventeen days, but I swear, it feels like I've known her every day for my seventeen years. She's the one for me, and I just know I belong here. My future, I can see it so clearly. I'm going to become an electro-mechanical technician. I've always been handy with my motorcycle. I know a lot of werewolves don't bother with bikes or cars or trucks, but I did, and there might even be a garage for me already that I can set up shop in. I might be able to have my own business, and Margarita has a real head for numbers and a business sense. We can work together and have a litter of pups and give them the business when they're old enough, and we can retire and go see the world!" He laughs and laughs, his joy clear as day.

  “It really sounds like you have your entire future figured out.”

  “I know how it sounds, that I must be crazy, muy loco, but—”

  “When you know, you know,” I say quietly. “I understand, and I wish you the very best.”

  “Thank you. Gracias. Muchas gracias. If not for you, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I might’ve…”

  “There’s no need to worry about that now.”

  “How is everything back there?” he asks.

  “It’s, ah, well, witches and grim reapers are keeping us in check.”

  "That sounds horrible. What's that?" he asks someone in the background. "I need to go. Margarita wants me to help make lunch."

  “It’s almost dinnertime.”

  “Not here. Gracias.”

  And he hangs up.

  I stare at my phone. I understand completely how love can blindside you, how it can happen in an instant. Two souls can touch and kiss and be made for each other.

  But Pablo and Margarita have their lives planned out. Yes, Romelia and I plan to get married, but that’s it. That’s the extent of our plans. What will we do after that?

  Now that the matter of Pablo is resolved, I can focus solely on Romelia and our future, and despite my fears and anxieties, I can’t help growing excitement. The semblance of peace we have now won’t possibly last, but that doesn’t mean that Romelia and I are doomed, that we will have to postpone the wedding. No, during the break, we will wed. We will be two made one, and then…

  I don’t know what.

  Although it’s dinnertime, I don’t opt to go to eat. Instead, I head to my room. The castle is empty, the others all gone to get some grub, and I go to my room, lie down, and call Romelia.

  She answers on the first ring. “I was just thinking about you.”

  “Were you?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about?”

  “That I’m not saying.” She giggles, and I grin.

  “I love to hear you so happy.”

  “Yes, well, I’m as happy as I can be considering…”

  “You have witches, too, right?”

  “Witches and demons.”

  “You had demonic guards before.”

  “Yes, but not like these.” She hesitates. “Not like these,” she mumbles.

  “How so?”

  “They’re… They’re from Hell. They don’t normally live on Earth, and they… they don’t bother to hide their horns. They have red skins and tails, and they’re just… They’re evil. I hate them. And I know
that I shouldn’t hate anything or anyone, that hate is a strong word, but I do.”

  “Have they done anything toward you?” I ask sharply.

  “No, of course not. I think… I think it’s because I’m a demon.”

  “Part demon,” I correct.

  “Part demon,” she concedes. “They just remind me of that side of me, and…”

  “You try to suppress that side,” I supply.

  “I do.”

  I’m quiet for a moment.

  “I can sense you’re thinking from here,” she says lightly.

  I chuckle and rub the back of my neck. “I was just thinking about how it’s dangerous for werewolves to suppress their wolf side.”

  She’s silent.

  “Do you think that maybe…”

  “Yes, I’ve been ignoring that side of me, and I don’t want to even consider the possibility that I shouldn’t. Julian, I am nothing like my father.”

  “Of course you aren’t,” I rush to assure her.

  "But then I think about how you got so badly hurt by vampires, and sometimes, I dream about hunting them down and killing them. It's terrifying, but it also… In those dreams, it makes me feel powerful. It feels good to take their lives, and I hate that. I don't hate the feeling powerful part, but the need to kill… It's as if something else takes over me, as if some primal part of me is forcing me to hunt them, to kill them, and in the dream, I like that part. It's all so very confusing and terrible, and I don't even like the fact that I'm dreaming about this."

  “Romelia, you can’t blame yourself for your dreams,” I try to assure her.

  “I know, but two nights ago…”

  “Go on.”

  She doesn’t continue.

  “Romelia, you can tell me anything,” I say softly. “Nothing will make me think less of you.”

  “Two nights ago,” she says slowly, “I don’t even remember this, but I must’ve woken up in the middle of the night, and I did some research on my tablet to try to see if I could figure out which vampires had hurt you. I found the research when I woke up for real, and I…” She falls silent.

  “Romelia,” I say, my tone gentle. “You should’ve told me about this right away. You don’t need to hunt them down. I’m fine.”

 

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