Nightworld Academy Box Set 1

by L. J. Swallow

  Amelia bites her lip and catches my eye. She cocks a brow and looks pointedly at Maeve. Pursing my lips, I shake my head at Amelia, whose reply is a sly smile. "I have a raincoat. I'll come with you, Ash."

  Should I be annoyed or grateful to Amelia for leaving us alone? Is this an 'us alone' situation, or am I reading too much into this? Cool air blows into the room as Ash and Amelia leave, and the door clicks closed.

  Maeve closes her laptop and places it on the coffee table, beside the plates. She's silent for a moment and the sound of splattering rain and wind invades the peace.

  "I wanted to talk to you about something." Maeve pushes hair from her face and her brow puckers.

  My stomach knots. This conversation could be either really good or really bad. "Sure."

  She moves to sit on the rainbow-striped hessian rug close to the fire and draws her knees beneath her chin. When she doesn't speak again, I join Maeve and curl my legs beneath me as I face her.

  Maeve stares into the flames that flicker as the fire runs out of fuel. "Remember when you touched me in Sofia's room, the time I tried to bring on a vision?"

  "Yes."

  "You sharpened the images in those moments. Can you help me again? I need to know the reason I'm seeing Tessa, Jamie. My visions mean something—usually they involve an event I need to stop or is important to my life. If I get a clearer picture of the man close to Tessa, I’ll know who I'm looking for when I go to the party."

  I sigh. Not the reason I'd hoped she'd stayed with me for. "I’ll help, Maeve. But first I need to know the truth."

  "About what?" she replies and turns her face to me.

  "Was the vision you had in Divination class about me?" I ignore how hard my heart now hammers against my chest. "You saw the Death card and freaked out."

  She takes a deep breath. "Yes. I saw you in a vision."

  My hands shake and I tuck them beneath my legs. Instead of the relief I expected from hearing the truth, I'm terrified because she’s tearful. "What did you see?"

  "You were hurt." Her voice is barely audible.

  "Badly?"

  The corners of her mouth turn down. "I didn't see everything. I never do. But it’s okay, Jamie. I've stopped events happening before."

  Maeve told me why she was expelled from her last school, which impressed and amused me. I've always known future-sighted witches exist, even though she’s the first I’ve met. Can they change what they see? Is that possible?

  I drag a hand through my hair. How much do I want to know about my future? "Why didn’t you say something?"

  "The visions I have that include you are just flashes. I didn't want to say anything until I had a complete picture. The future for you I’ve seen might not even be real—not everything I see happens."

  Maeve looks away as she says the last sentence. Is that the truth?

  But at least now I can stop obsessing about what she’s hiding from me. I move to mirror Maeve's position, knees beneath my chin, staring at the fire, before tentatively taking her hand. "Okay. But we need to tell Sofia or Theodora. We can work on finding the answers."

  She nods. “Agreed. And sorry for not telling you before."

  "I imagine life is very confusing for you right now."

  "Ha. Always." Her voice is thick as she fights tears.

  "I'll help with the vision of Tessa. Sofia's right. We can work together." She smiles at me as I give her fingers a small squeeze. "Then promise me you’ll talk to Sofia about your vision of me."

  She swallows and nods again.

  Her small hand remains in mine and I look around the room. "What do we use? I doubt tea leaves or bowls of ordinary water will work."

  She gestures at the fire. "I always found fire mesmerising. I spent hours transfixed as a child."

  "Good idea."

  Her hand tightens around mine as she breathes deeply, eyes closed, before exhaling. "I've never tried this without Sofia."

  "I'm here."

  Her fingers curl around mine. "I know."

  Maeve's focus switches to the fire and the seconds tick by until her face takes on the frozen expression I saw when she used the scrying bowl. Maeve's pupils dilate and her breathing speeds before dropping to shallow breaths.

  After years spent studying divination, I’ve never come across anybody who can drop into a trance this quickly. What if Maeve can't pull back out again? Would I be able to help her? The grip on my hand grows tighter and her nails dig into me. I wince but don't pull away as they push deeper, stinging my skin.

  Does Maeve sense what’s coursing through me at this moment? My attraction to Maeve guaranteed I’d react once I touched her skin, but as we hold hands, something more passes. I lose sight of the softness and awareness how delicate she is. My hand feels part of hers, but not in the romantic way I’d like. Touching Maeve is as if her spirit-attuned soul connects to mine.

  A warmth moves from my heart and trickles through my veins until it reaches my fingertips. A soft buzz tickles my skin and my mind closes down. I’m unable to fully ‘be’ Jamie anymore. Here and now, I’m part of Maeve. We’re part of each other.

  My mind blanks. Why can't I see what she does?

  Minutes later—how many, I don't know—Maeve grabs my other hand and her shining eyes meet mine. My shoulders sag with relief that they’re filled with happiness and not tears.

  "I saw him," she whispers. "Clearly this time. He has dark hair like yours in a similar style, but his face is longer. And..." She gives a triumphant smile then runs a finger from the corner of her eye to the hairline just above her ear. "He has a scar. Here."

  "Who is he?"

  "I'm not sure. He's standing close to Tessa but doesn't speak to her. Tessa's drunk and gives flirty smiles and coy looks." Maeve's euphoria drops. "He could be the reason I saw Tessa. I might need to stop him hurting her."

  "If you can. There's no guarantee what will happen."

  Maeve drags her fingers away. "I will."

  "Maeve." I touch her soft cheek in an attempt to soothe her building frustration. "How many other times have you managed to change the future?"

  "That's irrelevant," she snaps. "I can change things, if I'm there. I'll stop Tessa getting hurt. I'll stop you dying."

  She slams a palm over her mouth and her eyes widen. "Omigod, I'm sorry."

  Maeve's words hit me harder than the day someone punched me in the head, and the world blackens in the same way. I struggle to my feet. After weeks asking her, I suddenly don't want to know. I don't want to hear. My mind blanks with shock, and I grab my coat from where it's slung over a chair.

  Everything I held inside my heart for Maeve is squeezed from me.

  "Jamie. I'm sorry."

  "For what? Telling me half a story?" I shove my arms into the coat.

  Maeve looks up from her place by the fire and my heart would hurt at the anguish in her eyes, but I'm numb. "Now you know why I couldn't say. Why I wanted to wait until I saw everything."

  "When will this happen?" I swallow. "Where?"

  She shakes her head and whispers, "I don't know, but it's definitely not at the academy. I think you're outside a modern building at night. I haven't seen clearly. Yet."

  The acid in my stomach rises into my throat. Everybody on the academy faculty is convinced she's future-sighted. I've seen the evidence myself. There's no doubt in my mind that what Maeve saw predicts my future.

  But I doubt that she could stop my fate.

  I plunge out of the cottage into the rain and into a new world. One where death stalks me.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  MAEVE

  I'm sick to the stomach. All yesterday evening, I thought of nothing else but the look on Jamie's face when I admitted to him what I'd seen. He annoyed me when he suggested I couldn't help Tessa and the words spilled by accident. I'm facing the exact situation I wanted to avoid—I've scared Jamie with half a story and without knowing anything concrete.

  I wake early, unable to sleep as I deliberate what to
do. Now this is out in the open, I can't hide the situation from others anymore. I'm frightened what people will say and do if I tell them, but I promised Jamie I’d speak to Sofia. I head to breakfast and hope Jamie is talking to me again. He didn't reply to any of my texts last night. Will he forgive me?

  Amelia walks down with me, chattering about a fight between Petrescu and Gilgamesh yesterday evening. I don't care what happens between idiots who can't get along, although I’m surprised that Katherine wasn’t involved.

  Ash sits at the table. Alone. His eyes brighten and he pats the seat beside him. My heart skips as it often does around Ash, but I'm confused by him, almost as much as I am by Jamie. Some days, I'm convinced he wants more than a friendship as looks linger or hands touch. If I'm around Andrei, Ash stands close and glares at him. I'm amused by his protection, but also secretly flattered.

  Ash also withdraws. His explanation at the party, that I scare him, rings in my ears and he's never elaborated why. Once, as we sat together when he finished rugby practice, Andrei stopped to taunt me that Ash hates witches and to ask him why. A muddied, sweaty Ash broke away from a quiet moment between us to tell Andrei to piss off. Something in Andrei’s eyes told me his decision to interrupt was more than to wind me up.

  I waited for Ash to elaborate, after Andrei left, but he pretended the encounter never happened.

  Seems many in the academy have secrets to keep, which could be a bigger threat to us than the Dominion. Lack of trust will divide people and however hard the academy tries, divisions between the houses remain.

  This helps my decision.

  I'll come clean. Now is the time.

  "No Jamie?" asks Ash as I sit beside him. The plate on his tray is empty and there're two tall coffee cups in front of him on the table.

  "I thought he might already be here." Amelia steals a coffee and takes a sip. "Ugh. No sugar."

  "Since that's Maeve's coffee, no sugar is fine." He shakes his head and hands it to me. "That’s how Maeve likes hers."

  "Thanks." I take a drink. "Have you seen Jamie today?"

  "Not since we left you at the cottage yesterday."

  Amelia and Ash look at each other and they exchange sly smiles. Omigod. "If you think we made out, you're wrong."

  "Then what happened?" asks Amelia.

  "We chatted about my visions." I keep my eyes fixed on hers so there's no mistaking my words. "Okay?"

  "Defensive much?"

  I ignore her and drink while I scrutinise every face passing in and out of the cafe.

  I'm on the verge of leaving to study when Jamie appears in the cafeteria doorway. He's pale-faced with dark smudges beneath his eyes. His hair is more dishevelled than usual and clothes crumpled. The same clothes he wore yesterday. Jamie backs off as our gazes lock, but Amelia calls his name.

  He may be upset with me, but Jamie won't be rude to one of his best friends. Jamie avoids my eyes as he crosses to us.

  "Okay, Jamie?" asks Amelia. "It's not like you to miss breakfast."

  "You look like crap," adds Ash. "Pulled an all-nighter? I've told you before, the library will still be there in the morning."

  Jamie doesn't bite and sits with his bag on his lap. "I'm grabbing a coffee and then headed to study. I'm not hungry."

  Amelia cocks her head. "Are you sure you're okay?"

  He gives a weak smile. "All good."

  I wriggle uncomfortably beneath Amelia's accusing look. There's no point me asking if he's okay, because I know the answer.

  I don't need to guess where Jamie goes after our awkward and silent breakfast encounter.

  I find him at his favourite spot in the library but instead of bending over his laptop, he's staring into space with his arms crossed. He doesn't notice me until I'm by the desk and he jumps to alert before grabbing his bag.

  "Don't go." I reach out and take the handle. "Please."

  He sinks back in his chair and stares ahead.

  "Jamie, I know you're upset with me for not telling you, but—"

  "No, that isn't why I'm upset." He snaps his head around to look at me. "You've been at the academy for weeks and told nobody. I could be in danger."

  I blink at his vehemence. "I didn't know what to do or say. Or if what I saw was real. If I'm honest, I pretended to myself the situation would go away."

  "There are people here who can help," he retorts. "Sofia can help with your visions. Theodora can speak to the Confederacy and see if anybody is under threat. You’re future-sighted—whatever you see should be shared. With everybody."

  His words sting. "Jamie. I'm sorry. Everything that's happened to me in the last few weeks scared me. Can't you understand that? I'm not thinking straight. I didn't want what I saw to be true."

  "You have to tell somebody. Today."

  I dip my head. "I know. I will. But I don't know how anybody can help."

  Jamie pushes both hands into the front of his hair. "Maeve. You've spent your life hiding from your gifts, I get that, but this has to change. You're here and you're part of this now. Accept it."

  His growing anger shocks me more than the hurt last night. Of course, he's right. I'm in denial. But why can’t he understand what I'm coping with?

  "Until a few weeks ago, I didn't know vampires, shifters, and witches existed. How much do you think that revelation has screwed with my head? I’m lost and frightened, and I still don’t know who to trust."

  He stands to face me, cheeks red in his pale face. "You saw my death and refused to tell me or do anything about it. How much do you think that has screwed with my head?"

  A lump forms in my throat at his hard truths.

  "Do you know what hurts the most?" he asks hoarsely. "That you've spent the last few weeks worried about your friend and focusing on the vision of her. Not me. You never saw her die, but think I will. That’s unfair."

  "Because the situation with Tessa will happen sooner," I say.

  "How do you know?" he snaps back.

  I look around the library in case we've witnesses to the heating argument. "I don't, but I told you—if you stay inside the academy, then you'll be safe."

  Jamie throws his hands up in exasperation. "You're so naive, Maeve."

  "Yes. I am. I don't have a clue about any of this stuff." My throat thickens as tears push behind my eyes. I'm tired and I'm scared. "Every morning I wake up not knowing what the hell will happen to me next, or if I’ll survive the day."

  He looks at the ceiling and takes a deep breath. "Sorry, I shouldn't say this. I’m upset too."

  "But it's true. I’ve spent years keeping my secrets. Spilling them to strangers is hard, even though I know they can help."

  My hands tremble and I tuck them beneath my arms. Jamie watches and he takes a deep breath. "I didn’t want to fight, Maeve. I told myself I'd deal with this by shutting you out."

  "I understand," I mumble, but his words are a knife to the heart. "But I promise I'll speak to Sofia. We'll sort this. I'll fix it. You won't..."

  "Die?" he suggests as I trail off.

  "Don't say that." I reach out to him and try to take his hand. One of the things that kept me awake last night was putting myself in Jamie's shoes, and imagining how I'd feel if someone told me the same thing.

  How? Exactly like the guy in front of me now: lost. Overnight, the words weighed heavily on him because his shoulders are slumped. Jamie resists me taking his hand, so I step forward and grab his arm.

  "Don't," he says in a hoarse voice. "Leave me alone."

  His words hurt more than I'd imagine. Jamie, Ash, and Amelia have been my rocks. The steadfast people I could lean on. I've been too caught up in myself and my own problems. These aren't inhuman witches and shifters. They're people too.

  If he were Tessa, or even Amelia, I'd push on and try to wrap my arms around him. But I don't know Jamie well enough and hate that I've created a distance between us we can’t cross in this moment. In the cottage yesterday, we'd relaxed and met on a happier, friendlier level. The affinity that
Sofia saw, that we both sense is there.

  But I've ruined any chance of a close bond—even our friendship is shaky now. All because of my stupid self-denial.

  "I want to find Sofia," I say to him. "I need her help. We need her help."

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  JAMIE

  Theodora stands in the window of her large office and stares out across the academy courtyard. Her smooth skin and unlined face give the illusion she's a young woman, but her eyes are those of someone who's seen much she'd rather forget.

  Many see her as the beautiful and curvaceous woman who charms everybody into doing as she asks, but Theodora is a powerful lamia. One who lived through the Purge and survived. More than that, I've heard stories that she saved many vampires and shifters from death, at risk to her own life.

  Theodora took on and killed hunters and protected those who couldn't protect themselves. Her fervent belief that the supernatural races should unite and keep themselves safe is what drove her back then and afterwards. She was instrumental in setting up the Nightworld academies and the system that brought together the races. Or as closely as we can hope.

  Theodora takes any threat to her academy or her pupils personally, and I'm positive that behind this 500-year-old woman's deceptive appearance is a creature with more power than we can imagine. I’ve known her since I was a child—mum came here to study, and Theodora has been headmistress for a long time.

  Our families are woven together, somewhere in our ancestry. Our witch and lamia families are a good example of what the Confederacy hope to achieve: unity between races.

  The brown-haired woman with her pin-up girl looks is distant, and the smile she graces the world with every day has slipped today.

  Sofia sits in a nearby chair, hands clasped tightly in her lap, and Maeve looks between both of them with more fear than the day she was attacked by Dominion.

  For ten minutes, we listened while Maeve explained the circumstances around the future she predicted for me. Theodora asked for detail, but either Maeve has no more than snapshots, or is hiding something. I'm shocked and sickened when they ask Maeve for specific details and whether she sees me dead. As she tells them, I picture myself covered in the blood she describes, and my chest squeezes tight as if I'm there taking my last breaths.