by Belle Malory
Descendants Academy
Belle Malory
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Keep In Touch
Copyright © 2020 Belle Malory
All rights reserved.
KDP ISBN: 9798639585999
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
You can visit Belle Malory at: http://www.bellemalory.blogspot.com
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Cover by Christian Bentulan
Editing by Cheryl Murphy at https://inkslingereditorialservices.com
Prologue
Don’t look inside.
My steps slowed at the stairs, all of my senses heightening. Balsam and cedar—Riley’s favorite scents—filled every shaky breath. My vision sharpened on the closed door at the end of the hall, soft moans coming from the other side. Muffled, uneven, and full of pleasure. I gripped the banister, my knuckles white with strain.
We’d spent a lot of time together lately, more than usual. At first, it seemed strange. My sister and I hadn’t bonded over anything since grade school. Back then, we were basically the same person. All we cared about were unicorns and big-eyed surprise dolls. With only a year separating us in age, everything about us was alike, down to our mannerisms and the way we spoke. People even referred to us as the Thorne twins. If not for the slight difference in hair color, it might have been hard to tell us apart. Riley’s was strawberry blonde, while mine was more rose gold. Now hers was streaked with purple, and I usually kept mine in a pony.
Go back.
My bones ached as I moved toward the door. A powerful intuition I’d never experienced cautioned me to tread carefully. To stop. Better yet, turn and run the other way.
Now we contrasted like night and day. Riley excelled at everything. Sports, friends, school, it didn’t matter. She was outgoing, ready for any adventure. I was the shy one, nose in my books, and my eyes on the stars. She cast a wide net with friends. Mine was a small trio. She went through several boyfriends. I’ve only ever noticed one guy. For all our differences though, I still worshipped the ground my sister walked on. Everything about her was shiny and pretty and gutsy. I admired that.
When Riley turned seventeen, she changed drastically, and almost overnight. Suddenly rebellious, always getting herself grounded, and an overall bad attitude. After several months of this, Dad banned her from hanging out with her friends altogether. Totally her fault—she was stupid enough to get caught drinking and smoking weed and breaking curfew all in the same night. Dad said he couldn’t trust her, and until he could, she wasn’t allowed to leave the house except for school. That’s where I entered her world again. Me, the girl quietly reading in the background, pretending not to notice when she snuck out her bedroom window. Me, the same girl she used to overlook. We became friends again, and I was happy to have any piece of my sister’s attention, no matter how it started.
Don’t open it.
Most of the time, she acted as the third wheel since Connor was always over. That was another one of Dad’s rules. My boyfriend could hang out here, but I couldn’t go to his house. Somehow, we all got along really well though. We watched movies, did homework, binged on junk food, and played card games. Riley and I made up for lost time.
Why does it sound like his voice?
My hand trembled as I reached for the handle. There was so much good in my life. So much happiness. If I opened that door, it would change everything. Bring hurt and pain into a world that was perfect and beautiful.
Still.
I had to know.
So I slowly twisted the knob.
1
It was one mistake.
One mistake in seventeen years. I’d been the good daughter. My dad’s baby girl. His perfect angel. Granted, as far as mistakes went, this was a big one. No one took it lightly when you attempted to commit murder. Even less so when you tried to murder your sibling.
Grandpa drove while I slept in the passenger seat, my suitcase tucked away in the bed of his truck. They were sending me away. To where, I didn’t know yet. Creature of habit that I was, everything about this felt unfamiliar and terrifying—I hated having to leave my whole life behind. Then again, I’d dug this grave for myself.
At one point I’d woken up, screaming. The night’s events replayed in the form of nightmares. A thermos of liquid that reeked of alcohol was shoved into my hands, along with a book, one of the latest bestselling thrillers.
“To help you sleep. I remembered you like to read.”
I looked over at Grandpa. He sat ramrod straight, a pair of dark aviators hanging from the neck of his short-sleeved button-up. Apart from the tan lines and extra grays, he looked the same as he had the last time I saw him. Face like stone, salt and pepper mustache, and a gaze that tore through to the bone. Everything about him had always been intimidating. Twenty years in the military had seen to that, followed by twenty more in the FBI—probably the reason Dad chose him to deal with me.
“I’m barely seventeen,” I said, wondering if he needed the reminder. “You’re supposed to keep me in line, remember?”
I expected backhands and pushups, not booze and books.
He snorted. “Perhaps you’ve been walking in your straight line too long. Perhaps that’s why you don’t know how to walk outside of it without completely veering off course.”
I blinked once, considering that. The old man might be terrifying, but he made a solid point.
Everyone had an evil streak. It felt like I’d worked my whole life to ensure that side of me never saw the light of day. And look what it earned me—a one-way ticket out of my quiet no-frills life. Perhaps if I’d allowed myself to let loose every now and then, I wouldn’t have gone full-blown villain. I’d turned down so many parties, so many chances at being a normal teenager, and I’d never even had one sip of alcohol. None of it mattered now.
“We’ll be on the road a while,” Grandpa said, leaving the choice up to me. “You need some rest before we reach the Fates. God knows, you’ll need it.”
I drank until the thermos was empty. The warm liquid stung the back of my throat, but I was so numb I didn’t care. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve, tossing the book aside. “What are the fates?”
“Who are the Fates, you mean,” he corrected me. “There are three, to be precise, and we’ll visit them soon enough.”
Good gr
ief. They must be part of the magical woo-woo world he and Dad told me about back at the house. It was bad enough that I didn’t completely understand what happened. Hell, it was bad enough that I tried to murder my sister. Now I had to wrap my head around magic existing too.
“You started a fire, Sheridan,” Dad said.
I shook my head. Out of all the awful things I did, I wasn’t to blame for the fire. It started along the curtains in Riley’s bedroom, nowhere near where I stood.
“Riley lit candles,” I said. “One of them must’ve been knocked over—”
“You started it, Sher, and not from a candle. You started it with your mind.”
I looked out the window, letting my gaze settle on the dark road ahead, still trying to piece together those last few hours at home. That fire had drawn me out of my all-consuming rage and broken up the fight. I remembered looking around for the candle, but I never could find it. Thankfully, Dad rushed into the room with a fire extinguisher before it had the chance to get out of control. Later, when Grandpa arrived, the two of them sat me down to talk.
“You’re a descendant of Ares,” Dad said, his tone very serious. “Our entire family, on my side, are descendants of Ares.”
Dad taught Greek mythology at our local community college. There was only one Ares I’d ever heard him reference: the ancient one.
“As in, the god of war? That Ares?”
“Humans touted the Greek and Roman gods as holy figures to account for their unique abilities. In actuality, they were powerful mages. Or guardians, as we like to call ourselves.”
I checked his pupils and the whites of his eyes. “You’ve been drinking, right? Did you take too many of those pills the doc gave you for your blood pressure?” They looked pretty clear and normal as far as I could tell.
He ignored me and continued with his explanation. “War is in our blood. It’s why your grandpa, your great-grandpa, and even your great-great-grandpa were military men. We’re led by passion, we thrive on competition, and God help anyone who crosses us. Your anger grew to an uncontrollable level, Sheridan. It provoked you to attack your sister. Not only that, but…” He took a deep breath. “You influenced energy. That’s how you set the room on fire.”
I assumed the poor guy was losing touch with reality. Punishing me was foreign territory, whereas with Riley it had become commonplace. Now he had two out of control daughters, and my actions finally sent him over the edge.
When it became clear I didn’t believe anything he said, Dad looked to Grandpa, one of the most practical, logical men I’d ever met. If anyone could make sense of this, he could.
But Grandpa didn’t say a word. He simply drew his hands together and created his own fireball.
Right there in our living room.
Right there before my eyes.
Undeniable proof.
Seeing that shook me to my core. I was already in shock over the fight that went down with Riley. Then, seeing Grandpa manipulate fire, I couldn’t speak for several hours. I just sat on the edge of my bed, hugging my pillow, trying to make sense out of the inexplicable.
I didn’t have enough time to process everything. The two of them whispered worriedly in the background as they packed me into Grandpa’s truck, and I was dazed by how swiftly they’d managed it. When it was time to go, Dad stood outside the passenger door and spoke to me through the open window.
“I knew this was possible,” he said, sounding defeated. “I just never thought it would be you.”
“How do you know it was me who started the fire?” I said, leaning out the window. “If Riley is an Ares descendant too—”
“I just know.”
Beneath my chest, whatever was left of my heart tightened. I hurt for everything he’d been through—everything I put him through—but at the same time, I hated him for sending me away. Sure, what I’d done was awful. Monstrous, even. But I was still his daughter too, dammit. The past seventeen years should count for something. What about every good decision I’d made before this awful one?
I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “Make sure you set reminders to take your meds,” I said, knowing he’d forget without me there to tell him. “You don’t want to have another stroke.”
Before this, I’d always been the one to defuse the tension. I’d always been the mediator, the voice of reason, the one who could calm everyone down. Now, I’d be gone, and we both knew Riley was only capable of chaos, not peace.
He winced, his eyes tightening at the corners. “This isn’t forever, baby girl. This isn’t goodbye.”
Except it felt like it was.
Grandpa raised the volume on the car stereo, drowning out my rampant thoughts. In the last several hours, I’d experienced one shocking revelation after another, and I was grateful to escape the memories.
I still didn’t know where I was going. But no part of me cared to look in the rearview mirror as the truck ground against the dark, empty highway. Resting my head against the window, I drifted off, my body growing heavy from the booze.
Goodbye? More like good riddance.
2
Minutes, hours, or maybe days passed in that truck—I wasn’t sure. I woke up here and there, but only for short moments at a time. I could tell by the mile markers we were headed south, still driving along the east coast.
When the engine finally quieted, I yawned and blinked through the sunlight to find out where we’d arrived. A red brick storefront called Ye Old English Pub and Brewery. It stood two stories tall and looked as if it had been there for the last century or two. The surrounding buildings were just as old and quaint, and the scent of salt hung in the air.
“Savannah,” I guessed, recognizing some of the sights and smells. Dad brought Riley and me down to visit at least once a year. “What are we doing here?” I said, wiping the sleep from my eyes.
Military school? Juvie? A psych ward? I was ready to know what had been planned for me.
Grandpa slid the keys out of the ignition and undid his seatbelt. He nodded to the pub. “This place belongs to close friends of mine, the McDerby family. We need a portal to get to where we’re going, and they happen to have one inside.”
“A…what?”
“A portal, Sheridan.”
That’s what I thought he said, but I’d hoped I heard him wrong. Now that we were away from Dad, I hoped he would drop the magic stuff for a while. Apparently not.
“Let’s just hope no one’s used it in the last six months. They only work about once a year. Twice, if you’re lucky. Hermes invention.” He rolled his eyes at the last part.
Wonderful. He even threw in another Greek god reference.
“When you say portal, what do you mean exactly?” Maybe he meant elevator.
“Portals exist on significant ley lines to allow quicker travel to places of magic.”
Nope. Definitely not an elevator.
“What happens if this one has already been used?”
“Then we have to find another.” His mustache twitched. “Or go the long way, which I’d rather avoid. We could also spell our own, but that’s tedious business. Not to worry though, the McDerby family rarely uses their portal. They prefer living with humans.”
Humans.
It felt like the name for a club that revoked my membership. Now I wasn’t sure what I was—Dad said we were mages. Or guardians. Whatever that meant.
“Why didn’t Dad tell me about all of this before?” It was a question I wanted to ask Dad in person, but I’d been too out of it when I left the house. Now that I had a while to reflect, I had more questions. And it pissed me off that he sent me away before giving me the chance to ask those questions.
I thought about all the times Dad droned on for hours about the Greek gods, never once mentioning our own family history, and Riley probably still didn’t know. I wanted to know why.
Grandpa rubbed his jaw, looking lost for words. “Your dad wanted to live an ordinary, human life. He planned on telling you and Riley eventually
, when you were a little older. But there’s never really a right time for any of this.”
Ha! What a bullshit excuse. Dad was lucky he wasn’t here, or I’d try to set him on fire just for hiding the fact that I could.
“Give him a break,” Grandpa said, catching my glare. “Your dad only wanted the best for both you and your sister.”
“Come on, Grandpa. You can’t think hiding this was right.”
“It doesn’t matter what I agree with. Daniel is your father, and I had to respect his wishes.”
“But you don’t agree with him, do you?” I could see it in the way he was carefully holding back. He didn’t like the situation any better than I did.
“No,” he finally admitted with a sigh. “I wanted him to tell you earlier. I wanted him to raise you girls in Mythos too, but he chose to live in Davidson.”
“Mythos…” Earlier he mentioned the portal would take us to a place of magic. “Is that we’re going?”
He nodded, looking far more comfortable with the change of subject. “It’s a cluster of islands hidden in the heart of the Bermuda Triangle. The islands are protected by enchanted barriers, which means portals can’t give us direct entrance. This particular one is a gateway to the Mythos Line Ferry, the only means of transport into Mythos.”
Enchanted islands.
Magical portals.