Monster Awakened: Blood Moon Academy Book 2

by Demi Dumond

  In fact, the hallway was somehow the color of the sun at its zenith, and I suspected it was the result of a magic spell. Only a magic spell could create a color that annoying.

  I hated it, but this area of the building was barely ever used, so it just wasn’t worth the effort and expense of having workmen come and re-paint it.

  Coming to a stop, I glanced up at the door marked Advising Office. I found this room in a happy coincidence one day early on in my time as Headmaster.

  The door, like the room, and this part of the Academy, looked ancient. That was because it was. This area was throwback, it was magical, it was epic.

  The words Advising Office were burned into the heavy wooden door with office hours underneath that were purely for show. Nobody ever came unless invited, and even if they did, they would never get in.

  Not in a million years. There were enough enchantments on this door to make sure no students ever came until summoned.

  In fact, an army of mages couldn’t get in this door once I had closed and locked it. It’s why this room was perfect. Once locked, nobody could get in or out until I allowed it.

  I wished I could take credit for it, but I found it that way. And thank goodness, because the moment I did find it, I knew exactly what it’s purpose would be.

  Archie Taylor had been summoned. It was his lucky day. And mine. I pulled out the long, brass key and whispered the enchantments that opened the door. It creaked open with a whine.

  The inside of the waiting room was old school elegance. The room had a very large sitting area with a pre-depression era, khaki green fainting couch and several red leather loveseats scattered around a minibar.

  A crystal chandelier hung overhead, but it wasn’t needed since the window in the back was open, flooding the room with light. Pity. The chandelier really was stunning.

  Maybe I should start having these appointments at night, that way I could turn that gorgeous light on instead of subjecting myself to the harsh light of day.

  I crossed the room to close the curtains. Unfortunately, there was still enough light that I didn’t have to turn on the lights. Oh well.

  The carpet had been hand made specifically for this room. Cream colored and thicker than most rugs, it had a gorgeous floral pattern with rich garnet and amethyst colors.

  I looked around with satisfaction. There was a reason this was my favorite room in the Academy.

  Ornate frames hung on every wall with the faces of people I didn’t know staring back at me. They were witnesses.

  My eye caught a speck of something on the wall. I frowned, crossed to it, and pulled out my handkerchief. I spit on it and rubbed, and the small brownish-reddish stain was gone in no time. Then everything was perfect again.

  My watch said it was almost time. I opened the door to the inner office, the one with my name on it, and took a seat behind my desk. It was the only new thing in the room, and I had spared no expense so that it would fit in with the rest of the upscale decor.

  The rest of the office; bookshelves, wall decorations, and gilded, hand-carved guest chair, were original to the office. And all were up to ancient, Ivy League standards. Everything was perfect.

  The whole atmosphere here gave me a certain pride in what I did. Something to look forward to on special occasions. I went back out into the sitting area. It wouldn’t be long.

  “Wow,” said Taylor as he opened the door, which was already ajar. He walked in and looked around at the opulence that was advising. “This place is nice.”

  I frowned at the understatement.

  His footsteps echoed through the room as he checked the place out, clinking a few of the empty glasses from the minibar together with a grin on his face. He looked up at me.

  Archie was a tall lad with brown hair that was too long and hung over just far enough to block his eyesight, as was the style. His brown eyes and skinny face were also boring and normal. Everything about him was average.

  “Hey, Headmaster Crowe, we should do a toast, like they always do in those old movies.”

  That surprised me. Students these days weren’t usually interested in the old ways, even if they only knew it through movies. They were usually too busy whining about why their cell phones didn’t work here.

  A toast with the Headmaster of an esteemed institute of higher learning with a strapping male graduate was actually startlingly appropriate.

  “Good man, excellent idea, quite right,” I said as I strode into my office and crossed to my desk. Then I pulled out the top left drawer where I kept a bottle of hundred-year-old scotch that I normally used to toast after the student was gone.

  I decided to make an exception in this case. “Go grab a couple of glasses, my boy.”

  “Yeah?” Taylor asked. Then he turned and disappeared back into the sitting room while I set the scotch out on the table. He returned with the glasses and a smile on his face. He set the glasses on my desk next to the bottle.

  “You know,” I told him, “this scotch is more than a hundred years old,” I said. Then I waited patiently for a response.

  “Great,” he said, “make mine a double. I’ll bet you thought I’d never get out of here,” he said.

  Unhappy that he couldn’t appreciate the scotch on the same level as I did, I felt a frown creep over my face. “Oh, I knew you’d graduate eventually,” I answered, “actually I have been quite looking forward to it.”

  “No kidding. Me too,” he said.

  I poured each of us two fingers of the scotch. That was my limit for someone who wouldn’t appreciate it. His face fell a little, but it was obviously still a treat for him.

  He lifted his glass and I reciprocated. We clinked them together, like we used to, when times were more civilized.

  “To me,” he said

  “To you, Taylor,” I replied. “Congratulations.”

  He gulped down half the glass in one sip, or at least he tried to before coughing and sputtering. I took a sip and watched the buffoonery unfold in front of me.

  “So,” I said, after a second sip as I watched him recover enough to drink the rest of his scotch. “What are your plans after graduation?”

  Taylor slammed the empty glass down on the desk. “Ahhh. Not sure, really. Can’t say I’m not looking forward to getting out of this place. I’d like to travel. Maybe do a gap year. Join a bunch of pub crawls. Something like that. I’m not quite ready to settle down yet, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “My boy, I know exactly what you mean. The world’s your oyster after all. Youth. It’s so fleeting, so invigorating, so delicious.” I found myself staring at a particularly provocative piece of artwork that hung over near the window.

  “Um, what?” Taylor asked.

  I turned my attention back to him. “What?”

  “You said something about youth being delicious,” Taylor said.

  I cracked a smile as I saw a slight worry creep across his face. “Well, I’m sure it is, but how would I know?” I winked at him and he visibly relaxed.

  “So, when can I get out of here?” he asked. “My stuff’s all packed and I’m ready to go. Do you need me to sign something? Do you mail me the diploma, or is there a ceremony? Come to think of it, I can’t remember there ever being a ceremony here.”

  “Why would the ceremony be here?” I asked. “There are plenty of places to hold graduation ceremonies. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

  I pulled open my center drawer and grabbed a stack of paperwork. I checked it carefully, or at least pretended to for a moment. Then I handed it over to him, along with a fountain pen I kept for just such occasions.

  “Wow,” Taylor said, accepting both. “This is a lot of paperwork.” He turned the opaque green and black fountain pen with the fine nib over in his hand. “And this pen is incredible. Does it really write?”

  “It does,” I assured him. “That is its purpose. I topped off the ink not too long ago. You can have a seat at any of the writing desks in the sitting area if you want
. I’m just going to stay here and do a little paperwork of my own. To give you your privacy, okay?”

  Taylor nodded and took his stack of papers and pen into the other room. I stood and stretched and crossed the room, shutting the door behind him.

  Then I pulled a smaller, dark brass colored key out of my desk that unlocked a hidden drawer with a hidden key. That key fit a safe that was behind Homer’s The Odyssey in the bookshelf behind me. I opened that safe up and there in front of me, in pristine condition, was one of the last surviving copies of the “Treatise of the Darkness of Magic.”

  I turned to the all too familiar page that held the attached, ruby-colored cloth bookmark and smiled. Then I started muttering the spells.

  I was quiet at first, but the further I got into the spells, the more excited I always got. Until there was a moment, right before the end, that Taylor threw my office door open, a concerned look on his face.

  Presumably to check on me to see if I was okay.

  One glance at me, however, answered his question. That’s when he started screaming. It’s what they all did, so I guess I couldn’t blame him.

  Although the screaming reaction was terribly derivative, and mundane. One of these days I hoped for the student to do something a little more imaginative or brave. Not that it would matter except to vary slightly my end of the experience.

  Calmly, ever so calmly, I took a step toward the lad. Again, his response was average, boilerplate. I don’t know what else I expected. The chase was on, and the challenge was to catch him before he did immeasurable damage to my exquisite sitting room.

  Chairs were thrown, a glass or two shattered, nothing that would be difficult to fix, thank goodness. The boy didn’t even pull on the drapes. Bless his soul.

  That’s when I cornered him, whimpering and terrified.

  I pounced and gorged myself on skin and blood and tissue and bone. The scent of copper filled my nostrils, and the sound of crunching filled the air.

  And yes, delicious youth. The screams intensified and took on that insane, high-pitched quality it always did right before the end.

  Well, the end for him, not for me. For me it was just the beginning. I gorged myself until I had my fill.

  I inhaled everything about the aroma and the sounds and the gurgling. And the fear. It fed me. It had been too long, and in my ravenous hunger I made a monstrous mess that would be a nightmare to clean up later. Luckily, I knew just the spells to help with that a few chapters over in the book.

  7

  Keira

  Wow, nothing throws you off your day-to-day magic academy groove quite like reading your own obituary in an old newspaper.

  Bree had been almost as freaked out as I was. Not so freaked out that she didn’t grab some of Malachai’s underwear.

  I sleepwalked through my next class, lost in my thoughts and concern over what was really going on here. The one thing that made me feel better was that the books I stole from Malachai were sitting safely in my closet instead of his.

  That was the conclusion I came to as the bell rang. I gathered my things and emptied out of the room with the other students.

  As soon as I made it out into the hallway, Malachai stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “Keira, we need to talk.”

  “Out of the way, asshole.” I said, trying to sidestep the golden boy with the rippling muscles, square jaw and blond hair. It was my typical reaction to him, and I did it without thinking. Because once I thought about it, we really did need to talk.

  He stood in front of me again. And as usual, I couldn’t help it. My eyes went from his chiseled frame that was currently blocking my path to his golden eyes.

  Oh shit, he was doing the sad, puppy dog eyes. After all he did to me, and Ian, and Rafe, I was supposed to feel sorry for him? You gotta be kidding me.

  And yet, he had come back when he didn’t have to, and he brought my obituary back with him. Why would he do that? I had to admit I had questions, but I was also still processing.

  “Please,” he said. He stepped aside so that he was no longer blocking me, but his eyes continued to plead with me. “I just want to talk.”

  I didn’t leave. A part of me did feel sorry for him. And I could tell that he knew more about the forbidden magic that Kiln was talking about than he was letting on. I wanted to know what the hell was going on.

  “I came back,” he said. “Even knowing that everybody who’s come here in decades is dead.”

  The words hit me like a sledgehammer. “Why did you come back, Malachai?”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Privately,” he said, indicating the crowded hallway. “Please.”

  With a resigned shrug, I followed him until he ducked into a quiet classroom that wasn’t being used.

  As we entered the empty classroom, the bell rang, and I became aware that I was officially late for my next class. That meant I was falling behind in two classes today.

  A wave of fear swept over me remembering Malachai’s warning about what happened to kids who failed. According to him, though, we were dead either way, so I might as well figure out what’s going on.

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re the one who said we were screwed if we flunked out, Malachai. Can you make this quick so I can get to my next class?”

  Despite my anger running hot for him, or maybe because of it, I had to clench my thighs together when I saw him palm that sexy chin with his hand.

  I wanted to run my fingers through his hair again and sometimes I dreamed about those full lips. And the night that we were in the records room together. It wasn’t that I hadn’t enjoyed it, it was that these days I hated myself for it.

  He stepped forward and took both of my hands in his, sending a tingling of desire and a flush of warmth through my skin all the way to my core.

  “I can’t explain it really,” he began, “it’s just that you’re the reason this whole thing has been so damn hard.”

  The intimate touch irritated me even though it felt so good. Suddenly I wanted to know what exactly he was blaming me for.

  “Which part was hard, Malachai? Standing by and letting the angry mob sacrifice me to a killer dragon? Running away from it all? You know, I should be dead right now.”

  “I can’t change the past, Keira. All I can do is explain it. I was serious when I said I only expected to be gone for an hour. That’s what the ancient text about the prophecy said. It said when the dark one faces the monster under the last blood moon, there would be a one-hour window where all magical wards would cease. I came back for you, Keira. I came back to save you.”

  “But you didn’t save me,” I said. “I did. I think. I don’t know,” I stammered.

  Malachai was staring down at me, his forehead wrinkled in concentration. “What do you mean?”

  “I think he let me go,” I said. We were both standing just inside the classroom. I went to a chair and sat down. “I can’t be sure, but I think the dragon let me go.”

  “Well, did he let you go, or did you save yourself?” Malachai asked.

  “Why does that matter so much to you?” I asked. He had no right to demand answers that I didn’t know myself. “Does that determine how you’re going to stab me in the back next?”

  He just stared down at me with the golden, lost-puppy eyes that sent my libido sky-high and made me want to kiss that face. I wanted those arms wrapped around me again. He was so close I could almost taste him, and I knew that if I stayed it would only be a matter of time no matter how pissed I was at him. I hated that my body was betraying me, but it was so difficult to fight.

  “I think the dragon let me go,” I announced. “And furthermore, I think he was a student.” I decided to tell him what I wanted to do. I had nothing to lose, both Ian and Bree had thought it was a very bad idea.

  “What do you mean he was a student? Who was?” he asked.

  “The dragon,” I said.

  “You can’t be serious,” Malachai said.

  “I saw
a backpack, and I swear it understood magic. We had a bond somehow.” I already felt stupid saying it out loud, and his long, concerned stare did nothing to put me at ease. “I think he’s human. And I want to help him.”

  “Help him?” Malachai looked at me like I had grown tentacles or something. “You’re talking about forbidden magic, Keira. It’s too dangerous.”

  “You’re the one who would know about forbidden magic,” I snapped back. “What’s the deal with you and Kiln?”

  He looked stricken.

  “Don’t lie this time.”

  “Keira, it’s true,” he whispered and glanced around nervously even though we were the only two in the room. “I am working with her, but just to figure out what the hell is going on. Now that I know we’re screwed I have to figure out how to get the two of us out of here.”

  “The two of us?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, Keira, but I’m not in it to save everybody. Just you. And when I say that the whole situation is hard because of you, it’s because of this bond we have. I know you feel it too. I’ve never felt like this about anyone.”

  He leaned in and his face was dangerously close now. I blinked up at him as I leaned on the teacher’s desk.

  I felt a pull toward to him too, but my feelings on the matter were complicated right now. None if it made sense. I should be pissed at him. I should slap him across his beautiful face for what he did to me.

  He ran a hand through his hair and sat down in the chair next to the desk before he continued.

  “I’m going to tell you the truth. For months now, I have had this feeling that something here was off. Even before all of the prophecy stuff. That’s why I’ve been studying all the old texts, trying to figure out what was going on here and more importantly, how to get out.”

  “The Administrative Records Room,” I said. “I knew you had been there before.”

  “It’s true. I don’t know why I lied. You caught me off guard. And I was working with Jack.” He looked sad and his voice trailed off.

  I swallowed hard remembering that day when Jack tried to get out of the academy. “What did you two find out that was awful enough for him to try to escape?” I asked. This conversation was getting frightening fast.