Supernatural Academy: Freshman Witch

by Ingrid Seymour

  “That thing did this to you?”

  He searched my face, probably wondering what I knew, how I knew.

  “What’s the treatment? Your father surely must know how to…” But as I said it, Rowan’s tightening expression told me everything.

  “Your father doesn’t know,” I whispered.

  Rowan shook his head. “No one knows. Well, except Disha, Nurse Taishi, and now you.” He said the last part as if my finding out was an unfortunate development.

  “Rowan, you have to tell him.”

  “Do I?” His voice was hard and his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “And have him kick me out of the Academy? What would I do then, Charlie? Flip burgers? Work for my brother’s company packing boxes? I’d rather die.”

  “Well, your wish might be granted,” I said, exasperated. My eyes lingered on the veins of blue barely visible below his collar. “They look worse.”

  “They are worse,” he shot back, but then he hung his head. “I don’t know what to do. The curse is draining my power more each day. Soon… I won’t be able to do magic at all, lately it’s been spotty at best.”

  The expression on his face nearly broke my heart. “The first thing you should do is put on some pants,” I said, swallowing thickly. “Then meet me in my room. We’ll figure it out.”

  When his grateful gaze met mine, my heart nearly leapt out of my chest. He should have dismissed me off hand—I knew next to nothing about magic compared to him—but he just seemed glad to have someone else on his side, even if it was me. Plus, I had the cuffs now and maybe that counted for something.

  I stepped out, closing the door behind me, reminding myself that, under no circumstances should I let myself fall for Rowan Underwood.

  Chapter Twenty

  WINTER BREAK

  LATE DECEMBER

  That evening, we ate dinner together, if you could call it that. Mariana served us a meal fit for a king on the gigantic twelve-seat dining table. Apparently, tomorrow, his brothers would arrive and the house would be busy, but tonight it was Rowan and me.

  We ate in silence. Rowan’s eyes stayed on his phone, letting me know we should not talk about his curse, even with Mariana out of the room. I guess he also thought we shouldn’t talk at all, which was annoying. With no phone to distract me, I spent the time going over the magic spells I knew that could help with Rowan’s curse, but soon started to feel pretty useless. If Nurse Taishi couldn’t help him, what made me think I could?

  Delusions of grandeur much?

  Ever since the cuffs had claimed me as their own, I’d been struggling with those impulses. It was as if I’d gotten a serious injection of ego the minute they’d latched on. There was nothing I could not do. No challenge I couldn’t defeat.

  Until my brain jumped in, reminding me what a terrible student I’d been up until now.

  But the cuffs, my ego countered. They are my item.

  And it was true. All my spells and incantations worked so much better than before.

  Yet, would that be enough to reverse a terrible curse?

  After dinner, Rowan and I went to our respective rooms. The plan was to meet up in the backyard after his parents had returned and gone to bed.

  In the meantime, I called Disha on their landline. She picked up on the first ring.

  “Oh, Charlize Theron, I’ve been waiting all day. Tell. Me. Everything!”

  “Hello to you, too,” I mocked. “How was the flight?”

  “Boring. Stop stalling. Are you and Rowan in love yet?”

  “Gah, no. Stop it.” I wouldn’t tell her I walked in on him in the shower. She’d twist it into something it decidedly was not. “No, he’s taking huge pleasure in ignoring me. Macgregor, too. But Mrs. Underwood is nice.”

  “She is. How she can stand her husband I will never understand.” Disha blew a breath into the phone. “What’s the house like? I’ve never visited.”

  “Huge. Probably what you’re used to.”

  Disha sniffed. She was always uncomfortable when I brought up the disparity between me and her. It was like wealth embarrassed her, probably why she always gave me her things.

  “Hey, listen, I need to ask you something,” I said. “It’s about Rowan.”

  “Mmm hmm,” she answered, expectantly.

  “He told me… you know, about the curse. Like, the blue veins one,” I whispered into the phone.

  “Oh.” She went quiet for a bit before continuing. “He’s really sensitive about it. I’ve tried to help him multiple times, but it’s a really nasty curse. We went to Nurse Taishi after I insisted, but there was nothing he could do either. I told Rowan to tell his father, but he flat out refused.”

  “That’s what I told him.” But after what I’d seen in the office, I understood why he wouldn’t tell dear old dad.

  Disha proceeded to list every spell, potion, and therapy they’d tried together. As she ticked each off, I realized she’d mentioned every single treatment I’d been wanting to try. We’d learned a few things on reverting curses in Henderson’s class but, of course, my delusions of grandeur didn’t live up to Disha’s efficiency.

  I had nothing.

  I hung up, promising her an update, and feeling more defeated than I had in awhile. What had I been thinking, offering him help? Disha was an advanced witch and Rowan came from one of the oldest and most powerful supernatural families in America.

  Stupid cuffs. Stupid Charlie.

  My door creaked open and Rowan’s head slipped through the crack. He tossed his head back as if to say it was time and then retreated. I heard his quiet footsteps tread away as he headed outside.

  I contemplated crawling under my large, four-poster bed and pretending I was asleep, but then my cuffs flashed with heat and light. It was as if they wanted me to follow Rowan. Maybe if I couldn’t help him, they could.

  Creeping through the house, I descended the back stairs and slipped out of the laundry room and onto the back patio.

  Moonbeams and strategic uplighting made the Underwoods’ backyard into a dream. The brick patio had two seating areas with large outdoor couches and another huge metal and stone table set. There was a built-in pizza oven, a grill, and a wet bar near the illuminated and sparkling in-ground pool. More paved walkways wove around shrubs and flower gardens off into the distance.

  A chill cut across the yard. Yesterday, it had been mild and sunny. But it was December in Georgia so, of course, today the temperature was near freezing. I clutched my sweater to my body and scanned the grounds for Rowan. He’d told me to meet him near the tree line, which I could barely spot beyond the lit grounds.

  I walked the path, eyes and ears open. There was a distinct lack of magic in this household, so I didn’t fear that, but there was something else lingering around like a bad smell. The house and grounds felt… empty, but I couldn’t put my finger on why or what it meant. Maybe it was made to match Macgregor’s heart.

  Movement near the tree line drew my eyes. There was Rowan in a windbreaker, his shoulders hunched, breath pulsing in the cold. I tried desperately not to enjoy the ruddy glow his cheeks had adopted or the way the wind tugged at his dark hair.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey.” I was ever the cunning linguist, I know.

  “So, you said we could figure this out, any ideas yet?” Chestnut brown eyes watched me, hope hidden in their depths.

  “Well, I did think about it,” I murmured, stalling, “but then I talked to Disha and she said you’d already tried the few things I came up with.”

  “Oh.” His shoulders slumped. “Okay, then.”

  He started to walk back to the house.

  I held out a hand. “Rowan, wait.”

  But when he whirled back, I realized I wasn’t sure what I was going to say.

  “My cuffs pulse,” I blurted.

  One of his eyebrows arched.

  I sucked in a cold breath and tried again. “My cuffs have been pulsing since we left school and more since I came to this house.
Since I’ve been around your family. It feels like something.”

  “Something?” he repeated, forehead wrinkling.

  I shrugged. “Look, they’re new to me, okay? I don’t really know what it means, but it feels like it means something.”

  “Not nothing,” he said quietly, pursing lips that were full and red.

  I took a step toward him. “Like when I, er, touched you. In the bathroom.” Heat ran up my cheeks. I knew they had to be bright red.

  He seemed to ponder this. “What did you see?”

  You, nearly naked, your chest glistening.

  No, Charlie. Bad. That wasn’t what he meant.

  “A creature ringed in blue flame. You. A forest.”

  “This forest,” he murmured.

  “This forest?”

  He nodded solemnly. “Why do you think my father built his home here? The trees hide strong magic and supernatural creatures. He wants to be near them, but he fears them, too. That’s why he set up the magical perimeter to keep them out.”

  That was the emptiness I felt.

  “So, he sent you in there to investigate?” How awful.

  Rowan’s lips tightened. “Something like that. I wasn’t afraid until I got cursed.”

  “And you won’t tell him because you think he’ll make you leave the Academy.”

  “I don’t think he’ll make me leave. I know it. Everyone knows his opinions on weak warlocks. It’s not much better than what he thinks of Lessers. And don’t get him started on weak witches and warlocks who choose to become Lessers to boost their power. Anyway, he looks down on all of them and thinks they don’t deserve basic human rights, much less be allowed to get the best magical education around.”

  “I don’t understand. I thought Lessers were born that way.” I remembered the Quake and Shadow Puppet that had attacked Trey and me. Could a witch or warlock turn into one of them?

  Rowan shook his head. “Some are born that way, yes. But anyone can become a werewolf or a vampire, if they survive the transformation. They are never respected, though. They’re considered trash.”

  “That clarifies your father’s hatred for Answorth,” I said.

  “That’s not the only reason. Answorth is up to something, and we’ll prove it.”

  “Oh.” My shoulders slumped. This whole conversation had me baffled and feeling bad for everyone. “So what now?”

  “I guess we go in, and I try to hide my marks for the rest of the break. It was easy at school since my father barely acknowledges me, but here…” He sighed.

  As he started to walk away, my cuffs throbbed again. This time, without thinking about it, I reached out and grabbed his arm.

  The cuffs burned like liquid lightning. My body jolted. Rowan stiffened, his eyes popping wide.

  Then I was there again, in the woods with him as he came upon the blue creature. It’s eyes were tiny drops of hell and devil horns sprouted from its oddly-shaped head. I felt the zap of pain when it cursed him, but this time my attention was drawn to my cuffs as they seared my skin.

  I fell to my knees in agony.

  Back in the dark December night, my cuffs were indeed glowing white hot. The skin underneath them blistered and smoked.

  Aghast, I looked to Rowan for help, but he was too busy staring at his skin. It seemed he had pushed his jacket sleeves up to reveal his arms.

  Arms that no longer had blue veins running up them.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  WINTER BREAK

  LATE DECEMBER

  Rowan’s mouth opened and closed as he stared from my arms to his. He seemed frozen for a moment while I shook in pain, slowly sliding to my knees, tears spilling down my cheeks of their own accord.

  My wrists were on fire. The pain was unbearable.

  “Charlie!”

  He snapped out of his shock and caught me before I fell, scooping me into his arms as if I weighed nothing.

  He ran toward the pool and set me on one of the lounge chairs. He tried to examine the burns, but I squirmed in pain, biting my lower lip to stifle a cry.

  “Be still,” he ordered. “Let me look.”

  Clenching my fists, I forced my arms to stay steady as the pain throbbed like an extra heartbeat.

  He stared at the still-blazing cuffs. Behind his dark gaze, a million questions seemed to pass as he considered what to do.

  Then, as if making a quick decision that might not be the best, he clasped both hands over the cuffs. His head jerked back, the tendons on his neck popping out like live wires. My pain redoubled. I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed the raw scream that rose to my throat.

  For a desperate instant, I thought we were doomed. Dead.

  His father would find us in the morning, Rowan collapsed on top of me, our bodies as crisp as morning bacon.

  But then, the pain subsided. My lungs unclenched, and I could breathe again. My shoulders relaxed as I sucked in two calming breaths. Never had feeling nothing felt so good.

  I opened my eyes. Rowan’s face was set in concentration, a muscle jumping on his jaw and the medallion on his chest pulsing. His gaze tangled with mine, intertwining so tightly it felt we’d go on staring at each other forever. He was in the thrall of a spell of some kind.

  A growl sounded deep in his throat, then he jumped up, letting go of my wrists. He stood, chest heaving, strands of dark brown hair tickling his forehead.

  “Shit, that felt good,” he said.

  Excuse me?

  It’d felt like dying.

  He must have seen the confusion on my face because he knelt by my side and put on a concerned expression. “Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m not okay,” I blurted out, pushing up from the lounge chair and walking to the edge of the pool on rubbery legs. The surface of the water sparkled with the well-placed lighting that shone from its depths, but even the beautiful water feature couldn’t soothe me. What in the world had just happened?

  Rowan came closer, put a hand on my shoulder, and made me face him.

  “Does it still hurt?” he asked with a gentleness I’d only seen him express toward Disha.

  I nodded. “Not as badly, but yeah.”

  He took my hands in his, and we both examined my wrists. At the edges of the cuffs, my skin was Christmas red, blisters visible on the tender side, right at the edge of my palms.

  “I did a cooling spell on the cuffs,” Rowan said with an ill-contained smile. “Let me try a healing spell now.”

  I pulled my hands away again. “You looked too damn happy to see me in pain,” I blurted out.

  “What? No.” He shook his head. “That’s not it at all. I’m sorry. It’s just my magic hadn’t worked that well since…” he gestured toward the forest, the source of his curse.

  “You cured me, Charlie,” he said, his voice nearly breaking. He cleared his throat and snatched my hands again. “Now, let me try this and, for once, be quiet.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, then realized I’d only be proving his point, so I bit my tongue and let him do the healing spell.

  Warmth traveled from his fingers into mine, tingling its way up my wrists, arms, shoulders, neck. I inhaled sharply, enjoying the sensation even as an internal voice told me not to get things confused. This was just a healing spell, and the fact that my lips were tingling and the memory of our almost-kiss during the football game was replaying in my mind had nothing to do with any of this.

  Slowly, the warmth receded, leaving me cold.

  My hands still in his, Rowan admired his handy work, running a finger over the healed blisters. He smiled.

  “You might have some scars left,” he said apologetically, a chagrined smile gracing his lips.

  God, who knew he had such a sexy smile.

  Had I done that? Given it back to him?

  “I… I guess we’re even now,” I said, attempting to pull my hands back.

  He tightened his grip, my fingers prisoners to his.

  He shook his head. “What you’ve done for me is not
so easily repaid, Charlie,” he said in a husky voice that should be bottled under a label reading Entrancing. Seriously, they could sell the stuff.

  “You’ve saved me from disgrace,” he said. “You’ve redeemed me.”

  I wanted to blow it off, tell him it was nothing, but I was ensnared in his dark eyes, while his touch schooled my nervous system on the proper way of feeling. I hadn’t known I could feel so much, that every nerve ending could light up this way.

  Rowan took a step closer.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  He inhaled as if taking in my scent, then caressed my cheek with the back of his fingers.

  “That day,” he said in a whisper, “during the football game, do you remember it?”

  I almost said I didn’t. He would probably believe me since that was the first day Witch’s Brew had entered my system, except I didn’t want to lie.

  “I remember,” I said.

  Rowan wet his lips. Heat flared in my chest.

  “I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since,” he said, a small blush appearing on his cheeks.

  “Oh?”

  “Were… you just drunk? Or did you mean it?” he asked, his gaze falling to my mouth.

  Oh god.

  He’d just admitted he wanted to kiss me. I could do the same. Right?

  Except it didn’t feel right. I’d just cured him from a terrible curse. Of course, he liked me right now. A lot, probably. Heck, I’d been pretty awesome, cuffs aside. His blue veins were gone. His magic was working again. That made me pretty damn kissable. From all angles.

  I took a step back, ending all physical contact between us and breaking the spell of the moment. Rowan looked the way I felt. Bereft. Disappointed. Eager to shorten the distance I’d put between us.

  “I did mean it,” I said, giving him that much.

  “But… not anymore?” he asked as if afraid of the answer.

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  He gave me a crooked, satisfied smile that made me want to slap him and pull him to me at the same time.