Nightworld Academy: Term Four

by LJ Swallow

  "Yeah. She means my brother's humiliating me. I stand for shifters, and you're with a witch."

  I manage to pull myself from his grip and stumble backwards, hand on the door handle, ready to leave. "I don't care," I repeat.

  "Oh, you will. Step outside and find out," he snarls.

  I push down on the handle and rest my weight against the door, bracing myself for Vincent's to attack. Instead, he crosses his arms and narrows his eyes.

  "I'll be back once I know Maeve's okay. Vince, half an hour," I plead.

  "Go on," he taunts.

  Voices carry along the hallways behind us and he turns to the students attracted by our argument. "Back in the common room. This is personal."

  His tone would frighten the ballsiest of students and they scurry back inside. I grab my chance and bolt through the door and into the narrow space at the top of the stairs.

  Something hits me like a boulder and I sprawl on the floor. Winded, I push myself to sit and look up to where Vince stands over me, fists clenched. "Get back inside."

  "No."

  He responds with a punch to my face and the jarring pain splits my already aching head. "Wrong. Try again."

  "You can't do this," I say and wipe beneath my nose, warm blood on the back of my hand. "Someone will see me and ask what happened."

  Vince crouches down and jabs me in the chest with one finger. "I can't let you break my authority."

  "You don't have any," I gasp out.

  "The kids respect me. Professor O'Reilly is weak and reaching his final days at the academy. He and Gilgamesh need my help. I won't have you threaten that." he sneers down at me. "I hope the witch is dead. That'll do us all a favour."

  "Fuck you," I snarl.

  My head bounces off the wall from his next assault, and my vision blackens. Words echo in my mind, the blow to the head dislodging something hidden. I've been in this situation before—recently. Memories flash in colour over the dark caused by the injury. Vince yelling at me as I lie on the floor. A cold sweat sheens my head. Then I'm hurt and I'm running. I need to do something urgent. I saw something. What?

  "You..." I blink back the black dots dancing in my eyes. "What did you do to me?"

  "Stopped you leaving this building."

  "No. At the farmhouse. Why did I run?"

  His grip on my torn shirt loosens. "What do you mean?"

  "I remember." Scrambling backwards to get away, I say the words echoing in my head. "You're not my brother."

  He sneers. "And you're not behaving like mine."

  The same terror from my vision washes over me. Not because I think this person will seriously injure or kill me, but because something sinister joins us. I'm yanked to my feet and Vince holds me by the throat against the wall, squeezing my windpipe. "Get back to your room, Ash, before I lose my shit and hurt you badly."

  I stare back into his glittering eyes hardened with hatred. I close mine and try to pull out more memories, but the pain in my head overwhelms everything. I twist my head to look at the stairs and my stomach sinks in defeat. There's no chance I'll walk out of here tonight without Vince stopping me. A metallic taste touches my tongue as I lick the edge of my lip.

  This man might've won this time, but the rest of my memories will follow and I'll take him down.

  We'll take him down.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  JAMIE

  On the day Katherine's magic sent Maeve into a vision, Maeve's reaction freaked me out, because for a heart-stopping moment I thought she'd died.

  This time, that thought Maeve may be dead lasts for more than a moment.

  Becci drops to her knees, arms wrapped around her head, and her scream for help echoes around us.

  "Get someone!" I yell at Becci, but she doesn't reply, now sprawled on the floor, sobbing and hysterical.

  I swallow down the lump in my throat before looking down at Maeve. Blood trickles from her nose and ears, her eyes and mouth open as if in a death mask. Sinking to the floor beside her, my hands hover over Maeve's body as my shock freezes me to inaction.

  I take a deeper breath and take hold of her lifeless wrist. A faint pulse. Each time I touch Maeve when practicing divination, a quiet energy flows between us, but this time she's empty. Physically, mentally, and magically empty. I whisper her name, wiping blood away with my blazer sleeves, holding her clammy, cold cheeks.

  I can't bear to look at her like this. Bending over her prone figure, I grip my hair and fight back the anguish threatening to spill from me. She's dying. I swear Maeve's dying.

  This powerful witch was hit by a magic so dense and hard it's half-killed her.

  Like a sick, Sleeping Beauty tableau, I bend over Maeve and do what I've spent weeks craving.

  But not like this. I never wanted to kiss Maeve like this.

  Her lips are cool against mine, but tiny breaths touch my mouth as I will her to come back to me. Gathering her in my arms, I hold the limp girl closer and kiss her. I've no clue about human resuscitation, but I've studied enough to know some witches can bring another back from the edge, before they're drawn across the veil between life and death.

  Witches with a bond stronger than friendship.

  One greater than held by lovers.

  The witch bond.

  I've seen one bring Matt and Amelia together and tear them apart when Matt left. The magic I share with Maeve grew over the last few days, nurtured by our closeness, and through the support and time we've spent alone. I feel her deeper in my heart and soul than before, as if a part of Maeve's soul is wrapped safely in mine.

  Our magic bond allows me access to a greater energy when we're together. Will that be enough now?

  Lips still on Maeve's, I step into the world inside her head; a place blacker than the darkness that waits inside nightmares. I can see Maeve—a tiny speck in the corner of her mind—and try to run to her, but my legs won't move, as if I'm wading through mud.

  I hold Maeve tighter, mouth still on hers, as the magic moves between us. The trickle becomes a stream that sparkles white beneath my feet as it ripples into the shadows that hide her. Maeve calls my name. Begs for help. I can't see her, but I splash through the stream and into the darkness, reaching out for Maeve as I do. A scream of pitch-black terror jumps from her mind to mine and shudders through my soul.

  Then silence.

  I'm alone in the darkness that swallowed us both. Where did she go? I gradually move through the dim towards her and reach out, our fingers touching. Beneath me, Maeve moves, twitching with jerky movement before flailing around and pushing at me, dragging her mouth away from mine. Her frantic eyes dart around until she meets mine, hyperventilating and unable to speak.

  I cover her face and cheeks with relieved kisses. "You're okay. Everything is okay," I say over and over.

  Mutely, Maeve shakes her head and her eyes brim with red tears.

  "No," she finally rasps out. "No, everything isn't okay."

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  MAEVE

  The aftermath of the night in the hallway with Becci and Jamie holds me in a dream-like grasp and keeps me away from the world. I'm barely aware of the next forty-eight hours, moving through the world as a ghost, watching events around me.

  There's no medical or magical way to treat the effects. Time in the infirmary, sleeping, helped, but I didn't want to stay. Jamie remained by my side while I was there, and his presence buoys me each time he offers me a kiss or a hug. He's back to his reticence around me, almost embarrassed that he'd kissed me without permission and invaded my mind.

  The truth is, Jamie saved my life. Nobody has said the words, but I've seen the reality in their faces. How ironic that I've seen Jamie die in my visions more than once, determined to save his life, but he was the one who saved mine.

  I joked that one day I'll return the favour and he quieted. His death isn't a joke.

  Tobias spoke to me once and filled me with horror at my situation. In his forthright way, he demanded to hear every
moment of my time in Becci's head. He was Professor Whitlock demanding I tell him every single thing I saw in the vision that followed. His questioning exhausted and upset me and I cried—and then lost my temper because I cried. His apology was sincere and soft before he walked away, leaving painful energy behind.

  I haven't seen him since.

  Ash never came because he couldn't, and I ache to see him.

  Nobody will tell me what's happening at Gilgamesh, or why the students aren't in lessons anymore. I don't understand why Theodora allows this. What the hell is happening? Jamie assures me he's safe, that he spoke to Ash, who knows what's happened, but isn't allowed near me.

  Isn't allowed.

  News of the hell I went through spread like wildfire through the academy and led to a confession from Becci. This wasn't accepted at first, and I broke down again, yelling that the Confederacy had played into the Dominion's hands by taking advantage of their narrow-vision. I raged that their refusal to believe her, me, and Andrei continues to create divisions.

  If the Dominion's aim is to kill the academy from within, they've injected the poison they wanted. If someone's aim was to frame Andrei for reasons I can't fathom, they've done that too.

  The murderer wasn't caught and is unlikely to be. Few can cast the spell he used, which makes him a powerful adversary if the authorities did find him. I worried this would count against Andrei, but independent mind readers confirmed Becci's story.

  Mind readers the Confederacy should've brought in at the beginning of all this. I lost the plot and screamed this at the guy interviewing me. Raged that the Confederacy set Andrei up, not the Dominion, because they want him removed. The result: I was banned from taking part in Andrei's retrial. Retrial? He never had one originally.

  I'm sick of two days cooped up in my room, excluded from what's happening because the stress might trigger symptoms. I'm also over Sofia's constant questioning about what happened and the tight-lipped disapproval when I don't tell her.

  Theodora asked us not to say a word to anybody about my near-death, surprising me when that included Sofia. Is she under suspicion?

  The empty bed in the room I share with Amelia remains untouched.

  Somebody raps quietly on the door: one, pause, one, two, three. I smile as I recognise Jamie's knock, not a deliberate sign, just him.

  I sense him more now than I did a couple of days ago—or perhaps I notice this now we know the truth. Tobias is the one who explained to me how Jamie saved me, while Sofia gushed about our bond, repeating several times that I've found my life partner and won't want to tangle with anybody else. She left off the words "especially vampires."

  As she spoke, Jamie stared at the infirmary floor and repeatedly shoved his hand through his hair. He never looked up until Sofia and Tobias left. After that, I'm not sure how he reacted, as I drifted into the blanketing dark again.

  No more visions have hit, but the images still sear as strongly to my mind as the fire around me did.

  The door opens and a smiling Jamie stands with two mugs.

  "Hot chocolate?" I ask, and he nods. "Two—"

  "—marshmallows, of course."

  Each evening, he's appeared to sit with me, even though I barely spoke at first. I once had flu so badly I couldn't move or think for a week, and this exhaustion feels the same. I desperately want to talk things through with Jamie, this time determined I won't nod off.

  "You're looking better today," he says as he hands me the mug. His fingers brush mine as he does, sending a familiar static charge along my arm. What is it about the energy jolts and the guys in my life?

  "How are you feeling?" I ask.

  He shrugs and sips his drink. "Yeah. Alright."

  "Can we talk about what happened?" I ask him cautiously.

  "I saw Andrei," he says in a skilful and successful deflection of my question.

  My hand jerks and I almost spill the drink as I process the impossible news. "Andrei's back? What did he say to you? Is he okay?"

  "I only saw him from a distance. Tobias was escorting him from Theodora's to Petrescu. He didn't speak, but nodded at me."

  I'm a heartbeat away from running out of this room and to Petrescu, as all the suppressed emotions tumble into me. I want to hold him, because I never thought I would again, to look into his eyes and see if he's really okay. "I need to see him."

  "Tobias told me later that Andrei wants to be alone tonight."

  "Oh."

  "Don't take it personally. He's had a shit time and he's not exactly welcome back here."

  Jamie's right. I eye my phone; I could text him instead? I'm sure his phone is the first thing he wanted back. I say my thoughts aloud. "Andrei will see us when he's ready."

  "He's lucky," says Jamie and I frown. "I mean, that we solved the situation. I hope Andrei appreciates what you went through to help him."

  I lick the chocolate from my lips. "That's what we need to talk about, Jamie."

  He takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. "I know."

  Curling my legs under me, I place the mug on the nightstand and turn his face to mine. The brighter eyes of late have faded into the shadows again. "Why do you avoid this conversation? You saved my life, Jamie."

  He takes my hand and kisses my fingers. "Maybe. We don't know."

  "I know," I whisper, admitting to myself what I don't want to think. "You pulled me back. I felt you—your energy."

  He scrunches his nose. "Shit."

  "Well, not really. I think that's pretty un-shit."

  Jamie returns my wry smile. "I meant, shit it's real. Did you know about how witch bonds work?"

  "From Amelia and Matt's situation, but I heard they're unusual." I link my fingers with his. "Do you think Sofia's right and we have one?"

  "Possibly." He sips again with his free hand, fringe flopping into his face.

  "Possibly?"

  "Okay, yes, I think we do," he admits. "I wasn't a hundred percent sure, but if my energy saved you, then yes. We're spirit attuned: I amplify your magic when you work on your visions and—" He scratches his cheek.

  "And what?"

  "And I feel you, even when you're not with me. You're literally in here, in my heart. You're a part of me." He squeezes his eyes shut. "I don't mean that in a madly in love way."

  The energy he's talking about flutters in my stomach and his back-peddling confuses me. "You don't love me?"

  "Yes, I love you, Maeve. You mean the world to me. I just didn't want to sound over the top soppy."

  Soppy. I smile at the word. I take his mug and place it beside mine. Our ritual of drinking hot chocolate in my room has a different tone today. "Is this the reason you won't talk about my link to Andrei and Ash?"

  "I was unsure about my place in your life—in all this." He looks down. "I felt the bond but denied it existed because you shied away from me."

  "Ha!" I poke him in the ribs. "You're guilty of that too. You're preoccupied all the time."

  "About my death? The one you've foretold?" he asks flatly. "Yeah, that's a dark cloud on my horizon."

  I fling my arms around Jamie and pull him into me, resting my chin on his shoulder, face close to his ear. "The bond is why I saw you before we met, isn't it?"

  "Yeah."

  He's still reticent—nervous, even. I plant a quick kiss on his neck and pull away to look at him. "You mean the world to me too, Jamie. Not because you saved my life—though that helps," He pulls a face, "But because you're amazing and caring and have always been there for me when things are tough."

  "That's not true," he mumbles. "I'm never around when you need me."

  "Because you don't take on the bad guys? So what? I don't know how I would've coped on my own the last few days. You held me steady." I place my lips on his cheek. "You saved my life with a kiss."

  His hand slides to the back of my hair and he rests his forehead on mine. "I hate that was the first time my lips touched yours. Not exactly the way I'd imagined the first time we'd kiss."


  Our lips almost touch as I whisper, "I never thought you wanted to kiss me."

  He pulls his head back. "Seriously, Maeve?"

  "You hide yourself well, Jamie. Sometimes I think you're about to and then don't. That's not encouraging for a girl."

  "I feel I have some stiff competition." He purses his lips. "I don't think I'd measure up."

  "You really don't have confidence with girls, do you?"

  He wrinkles his nose. "Can we not talk about this?"

  "You know this is an odd situation, and I'm sorry there's now pressure for us to be soul mates or whatever, but you're as important to me as they are."

  "But you love Andrei and Ash."

  Love? "In a way and for different reasons. I told you the other night, I find these relationships as confusing as discovering the world is full of supernatural creatures."

  Tracing the lines of my palm with his fingers, Jamie drops into silence. I always felt at ease with Jamie, and when we studied together, my magic became stronger and I had more success with the spells.

  "There are two reasons I've avoided acting on how I feel." He continues to move his fingertips across my palm, the sensation soothing and arousing at the same time. "One is the exact reason you just described—you're unsure and overwhelmed by feelings for Ash and Andrei. I didn't want to add to that. Yeah, I've always felt the tension and how things grew more intense when we began to work on your visions together, but I backed off. I half-hoped that I imagined the bond, but the denial couldn't last."

  My heart swells at his admissions and his empathy. "I'm not sure how to feel about that, but thank you," I whisper.

  "S'all good. But we both know that what happened the other night changes things." I nod. "I won't pressure you into the whole 'Maeve's my witch soul mate' thing, because I'm not the only one your energy is connected to. I want you to figure things out for yourself, and I'll be here for you in whatever way you need, whenever."

  Does Jamie realise that with every word he speaks, the closer he pulls me? He may not have Andrei's or Ash's passion, but he speaks to a side of me I've always craved from a guy. He has something I never thought possible—empathy in his gentle soul and a heart full of love. Jamie thinks too deeply about our situation, confuses himself further, but he's finally admitted what we both know. We will never only be friends.