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

by Nicole Zoltack

  “I’m no one’s brat.”

  “Hmm.” Jade tilts her head toward the inside of her cottage. “Come on in, no one’s brat.”

  I trail behind the witch. Half of her hair is up in a ponytail, and she's wearing a black flowing dress, the slit sleeves billowing in the faint breeze allowed inside from the open windows. Her place has a distinctly earthly feel. It's as if her cottage is made from the earth and plants. Roots form the shelves on her walls that hold clay jars, bowls, and plates. Pots and pans hang from more roots in the ceiling.

  “Are you done gawking?” Jade asks, sounding more amused than annoyed. “What is it you want from me?”

  “I need a magical panacea.”

  “Do you now,” she muses, her tone altering, becoming much harder. “For…”

  “Myself, not my father, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Jade appraises me. “What do you have to offer as payment?”

  “What do you want?”

  The witch smiles broadly. “Oh, I’m sure we can work something out,” she all but coos.

  “So you have some?”

  “On hand? No. Of course not. It’s not an easy potion to make at all, and some of the ingredients are rare, very rare.”

  “What are you missing?”

  “As luck would have it, I’m only missing one object.”

  “What is it? I’ll go and get it myself,” I eagerly promise.

  “A tear.”

  “A tear?”

  “From a demon. Not a living vampire. Not any half-bred. A demon.”

  I gape at her without blinking. “Demons don’t cry.”

  “No. Not from pain, not from sorrow, not from happiness. Demons don’t cry. Why do you think there aren’t magical panaceas all over the place?”

  “Have you ever made one then?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been taught how to, and clearly, for there to be a recipe in a grimoire about the potion, it’s been made at least once before, so at least one demon has shed a tear. You fetch me a tear, and we can work out a deal for you to have your magical panacea. Do we have a deal?”

  I hesitate. As much as I want this, need this, even I know better than to just blindly accept a deal so open-ended, especially with a witch known to make deals with demons.

  But I don’t have time to waste. Mercy won’t have much time, and…

  My phone. Julian. I should call him, text him, see how Mercy is doing, let him know I’m trying to help.

  I grab my phone and almost throw it. It’s dead.

  “Can I borrow your phone?” I ask.

  “We don’t even have a deal yet,” Jade points out dryly.

  “We have a deal. Now, can I use your phone?”

  “You could, except I don’t have a phone.”

  “You don’t have a phone,” I say flatly.

  “No. There’s no point. No towers at out. No connection. No internet. No TV. Nothing at all. Sorry, kid. Now scram and get that demon tear, will ya?”

  I scowl at her, leave, and race off toward my house. Yes, I can cover more ground using my vampiric speed versus flying, but shapeshifting into the bird allowed me to bypass the guards without any issue. I should’ve attempted that a long time ago, but the more guards, the more eyes, the greater the chance that they would’ve realized that the bird wasn’t a real life bird but a vampire in disguise.

  Even with my great speed, it still takes me twenty minutes to reach the huge mansion my parents live in. It's basically a castle itself, and I don't bother knocking. After double-checking that my talisman necklace is tucked safely inside my shirt, I throw the massive, heavy gilded doors open and stroll inside.

  “Father?” I call.

  “Romelia? Is that you?” Mother calls. She appears at the top of the huge, sprawling staircase that leads up to the second floor. “Is something wrong?”

  “I need Father. Is he in his study?”

  Mother gapes at me as I blow on past her, and I barge into Father’s study. It’s a large room filled with a large desk, a large minotaur’s head hanging on the wall to Father’s right, a grim reaper skeleton in one corner, and a portrait of Father, Mother, and I hanging behind Father’s desk.

  He looks up at me and lowers his tablet onto his desk. It’s entirely white, not painted wood. No, I’ve long suspected it’s made from filed down bones, but I’ve never asked Father if my theory is correct. Honestly, I don’t want to know, and I would prefer to be wrong.

  “Romelia, what do you need?”

  “I need a tear.”

  He blinks a few times and settles back in his plush velvet red chair. His fingers steeple as he slowly nods. "Do you now? Why is that?"

  “Why shouldn’t matter. You’re my father. I need your help.”

  “You’ve hardly acted like a daughter of mine. You do what you want. You ignore me and—”

  “I act like a demonic daughter,” I interrupt. “How much more demonic can you get than to do what you want?”

  “Ah. Trying to smooth talk me.” He wags a finger, stands, and strolls around his desk to sit on the edge. He’s right in front of me, and his presence fills the entire room.

  My heart begins to pound. “Father—”

  “You need a magical panacea, is that it? Why do you need that?”

  I open my mouth, but no words come out. If I tell him the truth, he’ll refuse. If I don’t, he might refuse anyhow.

  “You know what? That doesn’t matter. You want the tear? Fine.”

  My eyes widen, and I clasp my hands to my chest as I lean forward. “You’ll give it to me?”

  “Yes, my dear daughter, but only if you agree to marry Constantine.”

  My heart skips a few beats, and I sit back in the chair, stunned. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, I truly am. I am quite serious. I do believe I asked you a long while ago to consider him, but we’re far past that now. You will wed the living vampire.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “Excuse me?”

  My hands shake with fury as I climb to my feet. “I refuse,” I hiss, and I turn around on the balls of my feet and march out of there.

  As far as I am concerned, if my father is going to try to control me and use me for his means, for his designs, then no. He is no longer my father, and I will not forget how he treated me this day.

  Chapter 28

  Julian

  Grief. Rage. Sorrow. Fear.

  I had been so very happy not that long ago, but I swear my life has had only sorrow. My happiness is nothing but a distant memory now as I collapse to my knees and crawl over to Mercy. As I cradle her in my arms, I bow my head and begin to cry.

  But then, then she growls. The noise is hardly audible, more a release of breath on my cheek than a true sound, and I gasp.

  She lives yet, but she’s not healing, not quickly, not hardly at all.

  She’s not dead.

  Yet.

  Slowly, I gently lay her back onto the grass. My hands are slick with blood, her blood, and I fumble to retrieve a vial of Romelia’s blood. I ease Mercy’s lips apart and try to get her to drink, and she does, slowly, painfully.

  But the vampire blood isn’t helping her.

  She’s too far gone.

  No. No!

  I have two more vials, and I give them both to Mercy to drink, but the end result remains the same.

  Mercy remains at death’s door.

  I glance around wildly, half-expecting a grim reaper to make an appearance and try to claim her, to retrieve her soul, to carry her onward toward death, but no one is there.

  We’re alone.

  All alone.

  I need help. I need…

  I need Romelia.

  My fingers slide along my phone, but I manage to call her. Again, the call goes straight to voicemail.

  My teeth grind together, and I tip back my head and release a haunting wail that turns into a howl of sorrow. I’m so lost in my howling that I don’t realize I’v
e turned into my wolf until several forms head our way.

  Guards.

  A sniff alerts me to their identities as werewolves. They’re from Moonstone Academy.

  The guards pick up Mercy, and I nip at their heels, trying to warn them to be gentler, to be more careful with her. One of the guards grips me around the neck, and I have no choice but to follow them at their pace when I want to race ahead, to show them the route to the infirmary even though they have to know the way themselves.

  Or maybe they don’t because they have us turn and head toward the castle that houses so many of the professors’ offices, including the headmaster’s.

  Not many of the professors are here, only those who have students there for the break. I assume the headmaster isn’t here, but no such luck. Before we reach the castle, the doors open, and the headmaster strolls out, his amber eyes narrowed.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he demands, his gaze first on Mercy then the guards then me last of all.

  I open my mouth.

  One of the guards speaks before I can, though. “We found them. She’s dying.”

  “Why are we here? Why aren’t they taking her to the infirmary?” I demand. “She needs attention! Didn’t you hear what he said? She’s dying!”

  “And why is she dying?” the headmaster demands in a tone that forces all those who hear it to obey.

  But I fight against his controlling voice and press a few buttons on my phone, my gaze mostly on the headmaster, only using my peripheral vision to help me text Bermon. I need him more than ever.

  “If you do not start talking,” Headmaster Virgil Thorn says, his tone sharp and pointed.

  “A vampire came,” I mumble.

  “A vampire came? To Moonstone? You mean to tell me that a vampire did this?” The headmaster takes a step toward Mercy. She hasn’t opened her eyes yet, and she’s barely made a sound.

  “Yes. A vampire came and—”

  “The vampire gave her blood?” the headmaster asks. He sweeps his finger near Mercy’s lips, where a drop of Romelia’s blood had smeared.

  “No, not that vampire.” I fidget uncomfortably.

  “If you do not tell me everything,” the headmaster starts.

  I swallow past a lump in my throat. “I will tell you everything, every last detail, but please, please, can we talk in the infirmary?”

  “We can waste time going there,” the headmaster says airily, “but no one works there. Not during the beak. Why couldn’t you behave? Why is she even here? Mercy Lance has excellent marks. She does not have to repeat any classes, unlike you, Julian Moonblaze, who is here for a second helping of summer courses.”

  I grimace, unnerved by his memory and recall. Maybe it shouldn’t be a shock that the headmaster knows us so well even if I haven’t talked to him personally until now.

  “Please, sir, I just need to know that she will be all right.”

  “I will make some calls, but…” A flicker passes over the headmaster’s face, and my heart sinks.

  The headmaster thinks Mercy is a lost cause. She’s only hanging on because she’s that stubborn and strong, but…

  My gaze falls on her. The slashes are deep, the bite terrible. How hasn’t she bled out? Maybe the vampire blood at least helped her somewhat because I’m not sure she would still be breathing otherwise.

  Squaring my shoulders, I stare down the headmaster. “A vampire came to Moonstone to issue me a challenge.”

  “A challenge? Between a vampire and a werewolf?” The headmaster barely hides his shocked contempt.

  “Yes, sir. I refused.”

  “You refused a challenge?”

  “I know that makes you think me a coward, but I know and understand the rules. There aren’t to be any battles fought here on the academy grounds, and I—”

  “Let me guess. Mercy here is braver than you are, and she took the vampire on in your stead. Do I have that right?” Headmaster Virgil Thorn asks idly.

  “Y-Yes, sir.” I can’t smile. I can hardly even talk.

  “The challenge was initially issued for you alone?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I see. Well then, my recourse is quite simple. I will do all I can to ensure that Mercy recovers. In the meantime, you are hereby and henceforth expelled from Moonstone Academy.”

  “But, sir—”

  “Because of your role in the challenge. Mercy, if she… if she survives, will not be expelled as the challenge was initially given to you.”

  “So I should have fought then, is that what you’re saying?” I explode. “I followed the rules—”

  “There are times when rules are merely guidelines and times when they are meant to be strictly enforced. Why didn’t you fight alongside Mercy? Why did you allow her to be so grievously injured?”

  “I—”

  “And if the challenger vampire did not supply Mercy with blood, then where did the vampire blood come from?” Headmaster Virgil continues as if I hadn’t interrupted him.

  I hang my head. “I… I acquired some from… from a vampire. I thought—”

  “You thought what? You thought vampire blood will cure all? No, that is not the case.”

  “Clearly,” I mutter.

  The headmaster’s amber eyes flash. “I do not find your tone satisfactory. You will depart this school at once.”

  “No, wait, please. I don’t want to leave Mercy. She’s my friend, and—”

  “And she has a great deal more courage than you do. No, you will not stay. Go on now. Leave. Or do I need to have a guard escort you from the academy grounds?”

  “Please, I beg of you, allow me to—”

  “You, my boy, have no choice. You will leave, and you will leave now, or else I will have to turn my guards against you. You will leave of your own violation, or you will be thrown out, or you can be tossed aside in a body bag. Which door do you choose?”

  I take one last, long look at Mercy. “Can I at least say goodbye?”

  “Say goodbye from there. Do not touch her.”

  “Goodbye, Mercy,” I murmur.

  A tear falls down my cheek as I turn about and march away.

  Expelled.

  Mercy dying.

  I can’t reach Romelia and Bermon…

  As soon as I am beyond their hearing range, I call my friend.

  “I got your text. Couldn’t read half of it, but I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten.”

  “Make it two,” I say. “Or two minutes ago.”

  “What all happened?”

  I close my eyes. When I open them, I realize I’ve already reached the exit to Moonstone Academy. The nearby guards eye me curiously, but none approach or say anything.

  “Tyra, Romelia’s friend, came. She challenged me, and I refused. Mercy jumped in, and… and…”

  “Julian, you’re scaring me.”

  “Just get here already, will you? She needs a friend to be here, to hold her hand, to talk her away from the light.”

  “Wait. Slow down. Why did Tyra challenge you?”

  “I’ll explain that later, but for now, I’m begging you. Come to Moonstone and stay by Mercy’s side. Don’t leave her. I’m going to… I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “All right,” Bermon murmurs.

  And that is why he’s one of my closest friends. He doesn’t press for more answers and just accepts what needs to be done.

  We don’t say anything else, but we keep the line open until Bermon finally utters, “I’m by her side.”

  Without a word, I hang up and cross over the border to leave Moonstone Academy behind.

  Chapter 29

  Romelia

  As I go to leave the house, I realize my mother must have left. Where is she? Where did she go? Maybe she can convince my father to relent and give me a tear. I won’t go crawling back to him, and I won’t tolerate his blackmail. I have to find another way to get a demon tear, and I don’t trust any demons, not even him. The thought of seeking help from another
demon makes my skin crawl. My father wants to use me as it is. Another demon would be worse.

  I leave the house, and I head back to Blood Haven Academy as quickly as I can. My phone is taking forever to power on. As it charges, I grab my tablet. It's terrible of me, properly demonic, but I decide to do a bit of detective work. I know Mother's passwords to a lot of different accounts, and I hack into her email. Let's see… There's nothing here to suggest where she might have gone, and it's harder, so much harder, for me to find a way into her text messages, but I manage.

  Hmm. She has an appointment to get her hair and nails done at a human salon. It’s not to start for another fifteen minutes. If I leave now, I just might be able to get there before she does. Then, I’ll be able to corner her.

  My phone’s at maybe two percent battery. I’m going to have to get a new one because that is way too slow, but I grab it, and I take off. There’s no time to transform into a bird or anything else. Not now, and even though the guards try to stop me, I just blow past them. Every bit of me pours energy into my churning legs, and when I arrive, I’m breathless, which typically never happens to a vampire. Our vampiric speed is a perk, but right now, I’m overexerting myself between everything with the storm and the lightning, the transforming, and now the racing like never before. My body is not too pleased with me right now.

  I glance around, up and down the sidewalk, and then inside the salon. Mom’s not here yet.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, I grab my phone, about to text Julian, when footsteps sound. I look up to see Mother’s shocked expression.

  “Romelia, what are you doing here?” she asks.

  “Mother, hi. Please, I need your help. I don’t ask for much, do I?”

  “No,” she says slowly, as if she thinks that perhaps she shouldn’t be agreeing with me. “You don’t ask for much, but you also don’t do much that we ask of you either.”

  “You don’t ask…” I trail off and force a small grin. “I can be a better daughter, and I will, but please, Mother, you have to help me.”

  “Help you? With what? What have you gotten yourself into now? Don’t tell me that you’re—”

  “I need your help to right a wrong. A friend of mine… A friend of a friend’s actually, she’s been hurt in the crossfire, and I need to help her.”