“But someone did it to Georgia,” I said without raising my hand.
Professor Answorth stiffened, and I swear when his gaze met mine, all friendliness had fled. “That is correct. We must never forget what happened to her. It was an unforgivable crime.”
“Then why show us? Even on a frog?”
Answorth twisted his neck from side to side as if my question made him uncomfortable. “There are things worth knowing, Ms. Rivera, even if one never uses them. Now, class.” He strode around the desk and waved his hand, causing all of our textbooks to flip to the same page. “We will pick up our reading on using mentalism to protect ourselves against a possession.”
He was changing the subject and trying to make it seem like his little demonstration had led up to learning to protect ourselves, but I wasn’t buying it. There had been a glee in his eyes, when he made that frog dance, that hadn’t been normal.
Not natural.
Or maybe I was crabby and taking it out on him.
My cuffs flared as if in response. Crabby, for sure. But that didn’t mean Answorth was innocent. And if Rowan wasn’t here to keep an eye on him, I would. When he returned, he’d be pleased to know I had kept it up in his stead.
Was I just doing this to please him? Try to remind him what he saw in me that day?
Well, maybe I was, but it didn’t make it a bad idea.
Fifteen minutes later, when class ended, Disha and I folded up our books.
“Let’s go,” she said, heading out of the classroom. “If we hurry, we might catch Mr. Sexy still at his shift in the cafeteria.”
Mr. Sexy was Disha’s new crush, a senior with blond, surfer boy hair and aqua blue eyes. Apparently, she was picking a new boy toy that was as far from Dr. Henderson as possible.
I casually eyed Professor Answorth who was busily packing up his materials.
“You go ahead. I’ve got some surveillance to do.”
Disha made a face, crossed her arms together Wonder Woman style and cast a bubble of silence around us.
“Are you crazy? He was cleared over Christmas break. They brought in the best investigators the high council has. He was exonerated, Charlie. No involvement. Just like everyone else. Capice?”
I shook my head, both in disagreement and in wonder that she could know so much. Either her parents were well connected and had spilled all the secrets, or she was talking to Dr. Henderson again.
“Are you saying that a powerful warlock like Professor Answorth couldn’t fool members of the high council?”
“I don’t know, Charlie, but what makes you think that you, a freshman with literally no experience before September, would be able to do better than the best minds in wizardry?”
Her words stopped me cold. I reared back with their bluntness.
She slapped her hand over her mouth. “Charlie, I’m sorry I snapped.”
I waved it off, even though it still stung. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s just that... ever since you got those cuffs,” she gestured at my wrists, “you’ve been different.”
It was true. My cuffs, and their new found power, had made me daring—reckless even. But, they also made me powerful. More powerful than Disha even knew. I’d told her about their curing Rowan of his curse, but I’d left out how they hinted at things. How they drew me toward people as if they had a mind of their own.
Yeah, I’d left out that little tidbit.
When I glanced over my shoulder, Answorth was sneaking out the back door, very Scooby Doo villain-esque. My cuffs flashed hot as if letting me know I was on the right track.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing Disha’s arm. “Just trust me, okay?”
She gave me an are-you-kidding-look, but finally nodded.
I smiled with the glee of having her by my side and the opportunity to use my new-found power again.
Grabbing both her wrists, I tapped into my magical well-spring. It was as if I had batteries cuffed to my arms. The minute I focused my mental energy in their direction, the cuffs produced a stream of energetic bubbles tripping through my veins. I mumbled the spell we had learned in Henderson’s class, with a few added tweaks of my own. Then I pushed the charm out over Disha and myself.
The minute she blinked out of existence I knew it had worked.
“What did you do?” she whispered at me.
“You can talk normally. No one can see us and only you and I can hear each other. It’s a cloaking spell.”
“What kind of cloaking spell is this?” I couldn’t see her face, but alarm and amazement tinted her voice.
“Don’t worry about it, okay? We need to move. He’s slipping out the back.”
Pulling her along, we darted around groups of students and exited the building through the front door. Then I headed around the side to the back exit. Answorth was already outside, cutting a swift path north.
“He’s not going to the staff housing. What could he possibly want at the north end of campus?”
Disha’s disembodied voice appeared at my left shoulder. “Wide open spaces? All that’s up there is a field and then the woods.”
So he wanted to be alone? Interesting.
We jogged after him. Disha panted at my side, but she didn’t protest, a sign that she was now as intrigued about his field trip as I was. And when we saw him slip into the tall trees at the edge of the property, my suspicions felt all but confirmed.
“He’s being sneaky for sure,” I said, casting my eyes about for Disha even though there was nothing to be seen.
“I have to admit, you may be right. Do we follow him? That forest is chocked full of dangerous creatures and spells gone wrong. Plus, there are blocking spells around to keep students out. If we step into one of those, we’ll be sucked in and transported to Dean McIntosh’s office.”
I rolled my eyes. As if she’d cared about following the rules when she’d been having an affair with one of the teachers.
“Yes, we follow him. We need to know if he’s the one letting demons in and stealing items. Dean McIntosh certainly thinks he’s innocent. Maybe they’re in it together.”
“Charlie,” Disha’s voice admonished, but I could tell she was keeping pace with me as we headed to the tree line.
We slipped through the first tall trees with Answorth in sight. I was glad it was still broad daylight because the moment we walked under the tree canopy the sun disappeared, casting everything in long, creepy shadows.
Hands wrapped around my arm and I yelped.
“Told you it was scary,” Disha said as she pulled close.
“We’ll just see what he’s doing and then get out,” I said, my chest tight. She was right. The magic around us felt old and unstable, like ancient dynamite. One wrong move and we’d be in deep trouble.
As we walked, it felt as though eyes were watching us from the trees. We were cloaked, but I’d learned in class that some magical creatures could see past any type of cloaking spell. Memories of the lich and the werewolf crept up like icy fingers.
“There,” Disha said, squeezing me tight.
Answorth had stopped in a clearing up ahead. The area he picked was small and dim, far enough from the main campus that anyone passing wouldn’t see him. Definitely perfect for some nefarious bullshit.
We scooted up closer, keeping track of all his movements. His briefcase, that should have held his books and papers, sat on the forest floor, pulsing with a sickly yellow light.
Disha’s nails dug into my arm and my cuffs warmed as if to say See, I told you so.
Answorth reached down and opened up the case.
A long wooden object shot up four feet into the air and hovered for a moment before spinning in lazy circles and sending light in all directions. Answorth stood, holding his arms out, his lips moving faster than an auctioneer’s.
“It’s a staff,” Disha hissed.
A staff. Wasn’t that what the administration had claimed had gone missing?
Slowly, I began to notice a pull in my chest.
My magic was being sucked out, drained as if Answorth had turned on a large vacuum and was hoovering everything into him. To confirm my suspicions, he began to rise above the forest floor. Hair fluttering in the magical wind and his face lit with wild pulsing light, he looked… different.
He snarled, his mouth changing. His jaw elongated as his teeth flashed in a grimace.
“What the hell?!” Disha exclaimed. “He’s… he’s a vampire?”
Vampire? Then I noticed the fangs protruding from his open mouth.
Definitely vampire. And not the sparkly, sexy kind. The bite-your-neck-and-leave-you-for-dead kind.
Oh, my God.
I took a step forward to get a better look and it all fell apart. My cloaking spell disintegrated. We flickered into view standing only a few feet from Answorth. He spotted us immediately. Eyes wide, he opened his mouth, bared his fangs and growled.
Turning to my friend, I spurred my wobbly legs into motion.
“Disha, run!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
SPRING SEMESTER
LATE JANUARY
We ran as if our asses were on fire.
Disha sprinted ahead of me, impossibly fast on her damn heels. What the hell? I pressed harder, fists pumping, feet pounding the dirt and fallen leaves.
Behind me, branches cracked, sounding as if they were being run over by a bulldozer.
My cuffs throbbed once, urging me to go faster.
Gee, thanks.
First, they’d gotten me in trouble and now they abandoned me to my own fate.
“Help!” Disha screamed as the edge of the woods came into view.
I dared a glance over my shoulder just to find Answorth flying straight at me. I cried out as he plowed into my body, sending me sprawling to the ground.
We crashed on top of gnarled roots, Answorth’s clawed fingers digging into my sides. I cried out again, both from pain and terror. As we rolled over damp loam, he snarled like a mad beast.
We came to a stop with him on top of me. He growled in satisfaction, face upturned heavenwards, the column of his throat pale and throbbing with black veins. His face was horribly distorted. Besides the large fangs, his cheeks were sunken and his skin glowed a sickly white.
Chuckling deep in his throat, he glanced down, his blue irises opalescent and the whites lined with the same dark veins as his neck.
He licked his lips, red tongue flicking between white, pointed fangs.
I fought under him, arms and legs pushing on his rock-like body.
“You want this,” he said in a husky voice. “You don’t wish to struggle.”
The fight went out of me, my body going limp and filling with a strange warmth.
“I want this,” my mouth repeated.
My own voice echoed in my ears like a faraway murmur. A part of me fought the stupor, but I felt intoxicated, my eyelids heavy, my muscles weak.
A cruel smile slashed Answorth face. His head dipped—straight, blond hair dangling and brushing my cheek as he angled himself for the kill.
A violent thrill ran through me as his fangs sank into my neck, a wave of desire and pleasure making me throw my head back and moan.
Behind my closed eyelids, images of Rowan’s face flashed in quick succession. The weight of his body against mine, molding itself perfectly, two puzzle pieces reunited. I dug my fingernails into his back. An animalistic growl of pleasure reverberated in my ears.
My eyes sprang open.
No, not Rowan. Answorth!
I tried to scream, but my throat was petrified. I tried to push, but my arms and legs were useless. Why can’t I move?
The answer came to me from my Supernaturals and Their Lore textbook. We had studied this. I was enthralled. It was a power vampires possessed.
Suddenly, the pleasure turned to agony as Answorth’s fangs dug deeper into my neck and sucked. My veins turned into rivers of pain, cutting paths from every corner of my body straight to my jugular.
Help me! Somebody help me!
The cuffs pulsed, squeezing my wrists, reminding me they were there.
I concentrated on their cool grip on my skin, remembered the way they’d blazed when I healed Rowan. For an instant, I feared the immense heat they’d released that day, the burns and blisters that marred my skin after all was said and done, but that pain was nothing compared to the sure death that awaited if I didn’t do something.
“Help me.” I managed, hissing the two words through paralyzed lips.
Energy blossomed in my chest, spreading quickly, reviving my useless limbs. Lifting my hands, I clamped them around Answorth’s throat and felt him swallowing, relishing in my blood.
“Fit glacies sanguinem in venas.”
Unfamiliar words flowed independently past my lips. They were weak, a mere whisper, but determination grew in me as knowledge flooded me. I suddenly knew what the spell would do. It would freeze my blood in Answorth’s veins.
“Fit glacies sanguinem in venas,” I repeated, this time louder.
Answorth made a choking sound.
“Fit glacies sanguinem in venas.” Now, my voice was loud enough that it rang in my ears.
The pull, the tug on my veins, stopped.
“There! By that tree,” Disha’s alarmed voice broke through the woods, barely reaching me through the trance of my spell.
“Fit glacies sanguinem in venas,” I pronounced with authority.
This time, Answorth stiffened, becoming a heavy boulder on top of me.
He had stopped drinking, but the wound in my neck burned like acid while his weight crushed my lungs, making it impossible to breathe. My vision swam. Too late. He had already drained me dry. I was fading fast.
Voices and steps.
“Oh god! Get him off of her.”
Disha? She sounded hysterical.
The weight that crushed me disappeared all at once.
“Is she dead?”
Precious air rushed into my lungs. I gasped and coughed.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, God.”
Hands smoothed my hair back.
“You’ll be alright, sweetie.”
My eyes flickered open for an instant and caught sight of a blurry Disha, brown hair draping on either side of her face. She was so pretty. I attempted a smile, but my mouth barely twitched.
She glanced away from me. “She’s gonna be okay, right?”
I sensed someone else taking a knee beside me, across from Disha. I attempted to open my eyes again to see who it was, but my eyelids seemed glued shut.
Pressure on the side of my neck... on the bite. Murmured words I couldn’t understand.
My skin tingled, then began to itch. There was a wet sound as I felt the wound knitting itself back together.
“Is she going to turn into a vampire?” Disha whined anxiously.
“Fortunately for her, Charlie’s spell slowed the poison and I drew out the rest. She’ll be fine.” A hand slipped behind my head. “Drink this, Ms. Rivera.” It was Dean McIntosh’s commanding voice.
I obediently parted my lips and drank whatever she poured into my mouth. It went down like honey, and I hardly needed to swallow as the thick liquid found its own way down my throat.
A lazy sensation spread over my muscles, same as when I first woke up in the morning. I blinked my eyes open. Disha and the dean’s worried faces hovered over me.
“Hi,” I said, smiling stupidly.
Disha exhaled in relief, her big brown gaze darting to Dean McIntosh’s hand. “What was that?”
The dean shrugged one shoulder and slipped a small vial into the front pocket of her slacks.
“Velour Vitae,” she said. “I always carry it with me. You’d be surprised how often students need a pick me up. Lots of shoddy spells.”
“I have to learn how to brew that,” Disha said, her hands still a bit shaky. She examined my face, relief washing over it. Then, she startled, realizing something. “Dean McIntosh… how was Answorth able to perform magic all this time if
he’s a vampire?” But before the dean had time to answer, Disha snapped her fingers and answered her own question. “The items that have been stolen! He was drawing magic from them.”
The dean nodded.
“I always knew he was no good, but I didn’t take him for a vampire,” a voice I recognized said from the side.
I cringed. Not him. Not now.
Dean McIntosh’s shoulders swiveled as she glanced back, revealing Macgregor Underwood leaning over Answorth’s immobile body. And a step behind his father stood Rowan, his features dark and stern. He stared at the cuffs around my wrists, then at Answorth’s frozen form.
The image of his eager, kind face over mine as we kissed in his bedroom disappeared from my mind and was replaced by the desolate expression he now wore. He looked miserable, nothing like the happy Rowan I’d last seen. What had happened.
Now what? What had happened?
My gaze darted to Macgregor.
Fucking dear ol’ dad happened, that’s what.
Rowan had spent a whole month with Macgregor. Anything could have happened during those long weeks. The man seemed to a have knack for breaking his son’s spirit.
Great. Just great! I didn’t just almost get killed by a vampire. Rowan was broken again and only God knew exactly why.
Chapter Twenty-Four
SPRING SEMESTER
LATE JANUARY
“Drink!”
For the third time, Disha tried to stick a straw into my mouth, while she held up a glass of orange-flavored electrolyte drink.
For the third time, I batted her away. I’d already drunk a full glass, and my stomach was sloshing with it.
“Nurse Taishi said you should drink as much as you can,” Disha fussed at me like a brooding hen.
“And I have,” I said, my eyes darting to the entrance.
I was lying on a hospital-style bed in the infirmary, a long room with six more beds and dividing curtains between them. I was the only patient and Disha, my only visitor. She sat on a wooden chair next to the bed.
Supernatural Academy: Freshman Witch Page 18