School of Broken Hearts: Academy of Souls Book 2

by C. R. Jane

  Alexander and I stare at each other for one more moment before I turn and race away from the table, the heat of their stares following me out of the room. As soon as I get out of the food hall, I launch myself around the corner and lean against the wall, trying to recover.

  What the hell just happened? It’s like I have no control over my body.

  I suddenly remember the tryouts that I’m supposed to be going to and I utter a loud curse as I hustle down the hall. That would be great if I showed up late.

  Once again, I curse the four guys. I would have liked to be in a better frame of mind before I auditioned and instead, I can’t get my mind to stop thinking about Alexander touching me and the other guys watching. My thoughts instantly jump to a similar situation...but all of us alone...and with a bed.

  Get yourself together, I internally snap at my greedy, slutty inner self.

  I get to the choir room with only a minute to spare. It’s another room in the school that I didn’t know existed. Everyone’s loudly talking when I open the door, but it’s as if I’ve performed a silencing spell when they see me walking in. The room is packed with non-scholarship students, I can tell who they are since they’re all too pretty for words. Just like Mercy said, I don’t see anyone that I recognize as being a scholarship student.

  Awkward.

  “Adeline?” comes a voice that simultaneously makes my body feel achy and want to throw up. I look up and see Professor London...because why wouldn’t he be here? Everything else about the day has already been terrible. Now my forbidden crush can be here to see me blow it in front of half of the school.

  I wave at him weakly. “Just hoping to try out,” I say softly, wishing everyone else in the room would stop staring at me like I was an extinct creature come to life.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Clarissa exclaims from nearby. My whole body stiffens. I shouldn’t have thought that it couldn’t get worse. Clarissa’s comment is followed by the four guys filing in.

  I’m officially ready to leave. My feet in fact move to bolt but Professor London is all of a sudden there with a steadying hand on my shoulder. A touch that feels far less innocent than I’m sure he intended. I savor the warmth of his presence and take a deep breath.

  “You can do this,” Professor London whispers to me in a voice so soft that I can barely hear it.

  His hand disappears and I immediately miss it.

  “Ms. Jones, please take a seat,” Professor London says, and it’s like I imagined his actions from a second ago.

  I make my way to an empty seat in the corner, continuing to keep my eyes averted from the rest of the room. The four guys have already taken up residence in the front, four other students finding other seats so they can sit there.

  I fidget in my chair, wondering how this is going to go. No sooner have I had that thought than Professor London clears his throat and moves to the center of the front of the room.

  “Attention please,” he orders unnecessarily since the whole class descended into silence the moment he moved. “Professor Kartokoff had an urgent meeting come up in New York and has asked me to fill in for tryouts. As most of you know I was the head boy in the choir during my time here so you can be assured that I will be able to recognize talent when I see it. When I call you up, please perform two minutes of your selected piece. You will then be free to leave.” He levels us all with a challenging glance before continuing. “Corinne Dobbins, you’re up first.”

  Just the thought of performing in front of all of these people, most who hate me on principle, has me ready to try and leave again. I feel tingles cross my skin and despite my best intentions, I find myself gazing up to the front of the room where I see Finn staring at me. The look in his eyes is encouraging and I find myself drawing the same kind of strength from it that I had from Professor London’s touch.

  Corinne Dobbins, a tawny brunette with streaks of red laced through her hair starts singing and my jaw drops. I thought the choir at my last school was good...this girl sounds like the next Lady Gaga. Certainly nothing like what I’m used to teenagers sounding like.

  Her face is full of pride when she finishes, and she flushes under the praise of Professor London. A hot rush of jealousy passes over me and I struggle to suppress it when I see how much she blossoms from his words. Maybe I’ve just been imagining that his kindness towards me has seemed like more. Maybe he’s just a flirty person?

  The next person is called, and my confidence continues to plummet as each person puts on a performance that is better suited for Broadway than a high school. It doesn’t help that people don’t seem to be leaving after they perform even though Professor London said they were free to go. At first, I wonder what they’re waiting for and then I feel like an idiot because they’re obviously waiting for me. Ready to see me embarrass myself.

  I tap my foot anxiously against the floor until the girl in front of me throws me a withering glance.

  It seems like hours pass before my name is called. By this point I’m physically shaking in my seat and I’m having flashbacks to when I used to have dreams the night before performances where I was trapped naked in front of the audience. That scenario would probably be less embarrassing than the one I’m about to find myself in.

  Professor London hesitates before calling the next name, and I know it’s because I’m the name he’s about to call. He looks around the room, noticing for the first time apparently that no one has left. “Is there a particular reason why all of you are still here?” he barks at the room. When no one answers he just shakes his head, looking at me sympathetically.

  I square my shoulders and nod, ready to get this over with.

  “Adeline Jones,” he calls out, and all the students start to talk excitedly. You can smell their excitement at the prospect of me giving them even more ammunition to torture me with.

  I stand up from my chair and walk to the front of the room, keeping my chin up. As I pass by where the guys are sitting, I feel one of them give my hand a brief squeeze. Looking down I’m surprised to see that it’s Nyx. His eyes are a chaos of emotions that I don’t have time to untangle.

  I reluctantly smile gratefully at him before finishing my walk to the front of the room that feels how I imagine a walk on the plank felt for scorned pirates back in the day.

  “Ms. Jones, what will you be performing for us today?” Professor London gently asks. My mind momentarily blanks at his question before I remember the song I practiced all yesterday evening.

  My voice comes out garbled when I try to answer, and I can hear the class tittering. I take a deep breath and then enunciate clearly. ““All Too Well,” by the goddess, Taylor Swift,” I answer. It’s one of my favorite songs and some of the lines perfectly capture how Dante and Alexander have made me feel.

  “You may begin,” says Professor London, and I can see the splash of worry in his eyes.

  I turn away from him and stare at the back of the wall. Trying to channel what I’ve been feeling the last few weeks, I begin.

  I walked through the door with you, the air was cold,

  But something 'bout it felt like home somehow and I….

  Just like always, when I start singing, everything else fades. I can’t see the students jeering faces, I forget that I don’t belong here. It’s just me and the music.

  My eyes flick to Alexander’s at one point, I can’t help it. My voice falters for a moment when I see the look on his face...when I see the look on all of their faces. It’s one of rapture, one that says they’re here with me right now, they’re feeling what I’m feeling right now. It’s what every performer wants...that moment when the audience becomes one with them. Their looks push me forward, and even though I know I’ve gone way past the two-minute mark, I don’t stop. I don’t stop until every last word comes out, until I’ve released all the emotions that I’ve been struggling with lately. It’s cathartic and freeing at the same time and I know that no matter what I’ve sounded like today, or how I’ve compared to the o
thers that were trying out today, I’ve proven something. Not only to myself, but also to the others here.

  The last notes fade into the room and I realize that it’s perfectly quiet. There’s no jeers or whispers, there’s just shocked silence. My eyes flick to the students’ faces and I’m alarmed to see the stunned look on all of their faces. Clarissa doesn’t even seem to be able to say anything awful. She’s sitting there with the same look on her face.

  Not knowing what to do, I turn to look at Professor London to see if I should leave and I gasp when I see the look on his face. It’s like he’s seen a ghost. His expression is tortured and conflicted and I’m not sure what I could have done to have brought that look to his face.

  “You can go,” he says hoarsely, and I’m immediately embarrassed. Was it that bad?

  I flee the room without a backwards glance, the silence of the room following me down the hall.

  (Braxton)

  “What the hell was that?” barks Alexander after he’s sure that Adeline has returned to her room for the night.

  I’m standing in front of one of the large windows in my room, gazing out into the beckoning forest, my mind whirling with what just happened.

  “I’m not sure,” I murmur distractedly, still thinking of how perfect Adeline sounded during tryouts today.

  “They know what she is, don’t they?” he asks, his voice belying how much he cares for her. A fact that makes me want to throw him out the window.

  “Who knows?” I ask in that same hoarse voice I’ve had since she performed. It’s like her voice took mine away.

  “The Council,” Alexander retorts. “Did you lose your head?”

  I can’t even answer. When Adeline was about to sing, I had found myself practically praying that it wouldn’t be too far off from the other performances. I had expected it to be awful and all I could wish for was that it wasn’t awful enough to add to the bullying I knew she had been experiencing.

  I had never comprehended that when she actually began singing that she would have a voice that would make the heavens weep. Because that’s what she had sounded like...angelic. But it couldn’t be. Adeline couldn’t have angelic blood. The angels had been captured and used until they had disappeared into the void, their souls too tarnished from the constant feeding to allow them to return to the heavens.

  I hadn’t heard about anything resembling an angel even being seen for the last few hundred years.

  “You know what she is too, don’t you?” Alexander suddenly asks, reading me as he did so frustratedly well.

  I pause before answering. I didn’t trust Alexander, not with who his mother and stepfather were. He may think he cares for Adeline, but the hold his parents have on him is strong. I doubt a mere crush on a girl would be able to overcome that.

  “I don’t know anything,” I finally say, lowering my gaze.

  “When I fed on her…” he began.

  I whirl on him. Before he can move, I slam him against the stone wall, my hand clenching around his neck.

  He flashes his teeth and growls, but to his credit, he doesn’t struggle. We both know that’s a fight he won’t win.

  “When did you feed on her?” I ask, a mixture of fury and jealousy frothing together in my insides.

  “Twice,” he chokes out since I haven’t removed my hand off his throat. “There’s been at least one other that’s fed on her as well.”

  “What was it like?” I ask, needing to know more to help confirm my suspicions.

  “I’ll tell you when you get your fucking fist off my neck,” he croaks, glaring at me.

  I reluctantly force myself to move away, but I can’t relax because I can’t get it out of my head that this asshole fed off her...and that someone else fed on her. I’ve obsessed about it since the moment I saw her. It’s been all I could do to hold myself back.

  “You want to know what it was like?” he asks cruelly, straightening the collar of his uniform. “It was like ambrosia. I’ve never tasted a soul so pure...so perfect. I felt high after I fed, like I could fly. I’ll crave it for the rest of my life.”

  I stutter away from him, my thoughts in a jumble. Sick fear tumbles around in my chest.

  “The persuasion...it seems to wear off on her quickly. I had to keep redoing it to get her to cooperate,” Alexander says thoughtfully, not knowing he’s putting a knife in my chest with everything he says.

  “Have you ever seen her glow, ever heard others remark that they were feeling good when they were standing near her...have you ever seen anything out of the ordinary with her besides that?” I question him, my heart still beating out of my chest.

  “Glowing? No, nothing like that,” Alexander says. “What the fuck are you going on about? Why are you asking these things?” he asks.

  I’m tempted to tell him, tempted to be able to share this burden, but I stop myself. Just a reminder of who his parents are is enough to keep my mouth closed.

  “I need you to take your guardian position seriously. Don’t let her out of your sight unless she’s with me,” I tell him, walking away from him to look outside so he can’t see the panic that I’m sure is all over my face.

  “You’re going to have to tell me what’s going on, sooner or later. The Council…”

  I turn around to glare at him. “I don’t give a flying fuck about the Council right now. And if you care about her at all, you won’t either.”

  The words stretch between us. I’ve just uttered treason and if Alexander is smart at all he’ll head immediately to report me, his chance to get rid of me here at last.

  “Do you think she’s in danger?” Alexander finally asks quietly.

  If she was what I thought she was? Absolutely.

  “It’s a possibility,” I answer him, unwilling to voice the totality of my fears.

  “I’ll keep a better eye on her. But it’s not because you’re asking me to. It’s because of…”

  “I know,” I answer.

  I turn back around to stare out into the night sky, not bothering to watch him leave.

  All I can hope is that I’m wrong. There’s a lot of investigating to do in order to prove my suspicions.

  A wave of longing hits me. I want to grab her and run away. Is it something about her being special that has made me feel like this? Or is it just something intrinsic in who she is as a person?

  I head to the library despite the late hour. There’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep well until I solve the mystery that is Adeline Jones.

  Chapter 5

  “Adeline,” a male’s voice calls from behind me in a school hallway that is a tidal wave of students today.

  Bodies are pushing against me, people pouring out of classrooms. It’s peak time… lunchtime always is, and I’m hoping to catch up with Mercy. I glance behind me to see a girl scowling in my face for going too slow, and she shoves past me, knocking into my shoulder. I expect to see Finn or Alexander somewhere, but I don’t see either. Alexander insisted Finn would collect me after my lessons, but he’s made no show, which is fine by me. Nothing’s happened at school to anyone since Bethanie’s death, and part of me wonders if it was a one off tragic incident?

  When I see no one familiar, I let the river of bodies drag me to the food hall.

  Someone clasps a hand around my shoulder, and pulls me to turn around so fast, I lose my footing. “Whoa.” My head spins and I slap into a solid chest. My gaze lifts, and I meet the palest of chocolate eyes set in a beautiful face. He has a jagged scar across his brow adding to his unique look. He isn’t someone I’ve met before, but I recognize him as one of the beautiful ones I’ve seen around school grounds. I don’t know his name though.

  “Adeline, I’ve been calling you,” he insists, his mouth drawn into a grin. A fan of students streams past us, bumping into him, but he doesn’t budge like he doesn’t feel the nudges and feel their glares on him.

  “Why?” I go to pull my arm from his grip, but he tightens his hold.

  “Saw that
Alexander didn’t escort you to lunch, so I’m here to do the job.” Except he smiles a bit too widely, stares at me a bit too desperately...and I don’t believe him. Lately, I’ve noticed more of the beautiful specimen of students’ gaze lingering on me, looking at me like wolves eyeing their next prey.

  “I’m fine on my own. But thanks.” I rip my hand from his hold and twirl away, pushing into the crowds, a feeling of urgency slithering up my spine.

  People groan at me shoving past, tread on my feet, curse me, but I don’t care. Something about that brown-eyed guy leaves my skin covered in goosebumps.

  I move fast and glance back to find him gone, relief washing through me. But when I turn back around, I walk right into him, blocking my path.

  “You can’t escape me,” he mocks.

  My feet slip backward, my gaze swinging left and right for anyone familiar. But now that I really pay attention, all I see are eyes scrutinizing me, judging me, hating me.

  He steps towards me, and I recoil despite the crowd shoving against my back.

  My heart beats frantically. “What do you want?”

  He’s laughing maniacally. “To walk you to the food hall, keep you safe.”

  Right. “No, as I said before, I don’t need you. Get out of my way before I scream.”

  Something sweeps over his expression, and he lunges toward me with such speed, I have no chance to react. His arms loop around my waist and carry me out of the masses of students as if I weigh nothing, rushing down a dark corridor.

  Panic smacks into me, and I shove my fists into his chest and unleash a scream.

  He drops me to my feet, and I stumble to find my balance. Fear is a blade to my throat, and I spin to run, but he’s there. Always there.

  Pushing me face first against the wall, his body pins itself against mine. I can barely breathe. And suddenly, all I feel is rage and terror tangled into one huge knot in my chest.