Academy of Deadly Arts

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Academy of Deadly Arts Page 15

by Helen Scott


  I snorted at the term baby ghost. “So what’s my aura?”

  “Gray, with ribbons of white and black. Most people are just gray, or white, or black, or occasionally another solid color, but to have what you have, to have all three colors is special. It is that which will allow you to travel to the netherworld and to the aetherworld. You will need help learning how to control your powers, so your schedule at the academy is being rearranged slightly to help with that. Being the Arbiter is not a desk job. It’s not a job to take lightly either, but it is necessary.” His voice was low and reverent at the end, like the job was the end all and be all of our world.

  “You still haven’t said what would happen if I turn the job down. What if I just want to go about my afterlife like everyone else?” I demanded.

  “You’re welcome to try, but know this, everything you have experienced up to this point is just a taste of what is to come. The demons and spirits that have sullied themselves with the devil and his work will be able to sniff you out like a pig hunting for a truffle. The attacks will get worse and the spirits you have befriended will be in danger. It is why I am alone. I chose to leave my soulmate so that he wasn’t in danger because of my destiny. They will be your weak point, one that will be manipulated until they either become extinct or you give in to the demands of the demons.” With every word he said my heart sank.

  “I can’t live like that. I can’t be alone all the time,” I cried, despair ringing in my voice for a moment before I rallied and found my courage. “No, I refuse. I decline your job offer and will find my own path to my final resting place. You can find another spirit with a stripy aura.”

  I pushed the chair back and it shrieked against the floor before I turned and ran. The white office blinked in and out of existence as I flew from the Arbiter, replaced by what looked more like an ancient library than anything else. Stacks of books that seemed to disappear above my head sprung out of nowhere while I swerved to avoid crashing into them. I had no idea where I was going and I didn’t care so long as I didn’t have to listen to him crush my hopes of a future.

  White fog poured from me as I ran, and I tumbled into it, expecting to wind up with my mom or my old roommate, but neither of those things happened. I found myself hurtling through some unknown space while wind whipped me back and forth until I landed in the living room of the guys’ house.

  I crashed onto their coffee table, splintering it into a million pieces, some of which decided to lodge themselves in my body. A groan escaped me as I tried to push myself upward into a sitting position but fell back down. One of the shards of wood had embedded itself in my arm altogether too well, and now I couldn’t put any weight on it.

  “What the...” a male voice came from behind me.

  I tilted my head back to look and found all four of them had rushed downstairs in various states of undress and were staring at me like I was an alien that had crash landed in their house, while the white fog dissipated. Part of me wanted to laugh at my current situation but I couldn’t. Sorrow overwhelmed my heart at the thought of these men being hurt because of me, and I didn’t know what to do.

  “Avery? What happened?” Gaius asked as he came over to my side. “Guys, help me with her!”

  “I had a meeting with the Arbiter,” I croaked out as they began to remove pieces of wood from my arms and back and side. I grunted and winced in pain at some of the bigger pieces. When they came to the biggest one in my arm though I screamed bloody murder as they yanked it out before quickly bandaging the wounds up.

  “What did the Arbiter want?” Xavier asked, one of his eyebrows quirked in question.

  “He told me I’m the next Arbiter,” I said, keeping my voice low as worry that someone would overhear us and come to kill everyone I cared for immediately took over.

  All of them muttered various exclamations and asked questions, but what amazed me the most was that none of them were surprised.

  Epilogue

  The Killer

  My arms wrapped around my love’s neck as I cried into his shoulder, my tears staining his sweater as they rolled from my cheeks. “I almost had her! Why did she disappear like that? Why can’t I do that? I want what she has!”

  He rubbed soothing circles on my back, trying to calm me down before I did something rash, like commit unplanned murder. “I know, sweeting, I know. We will get her though, and you’ll find the answers you seek. Just be patient a little longer, hmm?”

  “I’ve been patient!” I screamed as I pushed away from him. “I don’t want to be patient anymore. I want my reward!”

  “I know, but you can’t have that right now. You can have me though. I’m all yours, babydoll.” His voice was as smooth as silk and as seductive as velvet.

  His lips were on mine a moment later but that wasn’t what I wanted, so I bit him, hard. He yelped in surprise and pain as I tasted the coppery tang of blood in my mouth. I knew it wasn’t real, neither of us actually had blood after all, we were spirits for crying out loud. That didn’t mean that I didn’t relish the taste though. It was hard enough to exist without being able to get the same thrill from a dead body as I did while I was alive, let alone if I had to exist without the taste of blood every once in a while.

  “Love, what have I told you about biting me when we aren’t in bed?”

  “That you don’t like it,” I said with a pout. I knew he wanted me to stop doing it, was worried that it would draw attention, but I didn’t care. Let it draw attention. Let them all see who and what we were. It was time for us to crush them under our feet like we had always planned.

  “That’s right, so why do it?” he asked carefully, showing his fear by treating me like I was a cornered animal.

  It made me want to giggle, but if I did that while he had his serious voice on then I knew he’d only get more upset with me, so I batted my eyelashes at him and said, “Because your blood is yummy, and I want everyone to know you belong to someone even if they can’t know it’s me. Well, not yet anyway.”

  “I’m happy to give you whatever you need, sugarplum, but there is a time and a place for everything. Now, come, we can’t keep Torith waiting, you know how impatient that damn demon gets. He’s almost as bad as you.” A slow smile spread over his handsome face as he spoke.

  I knew my love was teasing me but I didn’t like it. “I’m no demon!”

  “You are in bed, and that’s one of the many things I love about you. You lust for pain and blood and violence—”

  “Don’t forget chaos,” I interjected.

  “And chaos. You bring them all to the bedroom in the most creative ways, and I will never get enough of that. Overall, you’re no demon, well, not to anyone you let live, but to me you’re the demon of seduction and chaos and have made my afterlife complete by bringing me to the core of my being and showing me exactly who I was. We will get what you need from Torith, and then we will find our next victim. Sound good, babydoll?”

  “I suppose. Can we take two this time though? We lost our sacred grounds and need to build it back up in the new location.” I didn’t pout this time; I knew he wanted the kill as much as I did. This way there would be one for each of us to play with.

  “We can take as many as you want. Once we have the demons on board we won’t have to hide anymore. We can share our love with all of purgatory and they will bask in its glory or fall to our blades.”

  The rogue knew how much his words would delight me, so I didn’t hold back on my reaction showing him how eager I was to share our love with all the other spirits. I clapped and showered him with kisses until we were both laughing and rolling on the bed.

  “Come on, let’s go and show Torith that he’s not the baddest demon in town.” My love stood from the bed and extended his hand to me. I took it and stood, straightening my dress before giving him a twirl. When he nodded his approval, I smiled and the two of us set off for our clandestine meeting.

  The demon would get surly if we were late and we needed him to be cooperativ
e for the next part of our plan. Better yet, we needed him to convince his boss to get in on the action, and we could only do that by showing him exactly how far we were willing to go. Since our grave was discovered we were at a disadvantage, but a demonstration of our skills and dedication should do the trick nicely.

  I smiled up at my love as he patted the hand that rested on his arm. We were lucky to have found each other in this wretched place, and after decades and decades of work we knew exactly how to bring it down.

  Other Works by Helen Scott

  Don’t forget to check out Helen’s other series.

  The Wild Hunt

  Daughter of the Hunt

  Challenger of the Hunt - Coming Soon

  The Salsang Chronicles

  (written with Serena Akeroyd)

  Stained Egos

  Stained Hearts

  Stained Minds

  Stained Bonds

  Stained Souls

  Four Worlds

  Wounding Atlantis

  Finding Hyperborea

  Escaping El Dorado

  Embracing Agartha - Coming Soon

  Cerberus

  Daughter of Persephone

  Daughter of Hades

  Queen of the Underworld

  Cerberus Box Set

  Hera’s Gift ( A Cerberus Novella)

  Wardens of Midnight

  Woman of Midnight (A Wardens of Midnight Novella)

  Sanctuary at Midnight

  The Siren Legacy

  The Oracle (A Siren Legacy Novella)

  The Siren’s Son

  The Siren’s Eyes

  The Siren’s Code

  The Siren’s Heart

  The Banshee (A Siren Legacy Novella)

  The Siren’s Bride

  Fury’s Valentine (A Siren Legacy Novella)

  Standalones

  The Sex Tape (Written with Serena Akeroyd)

  Daughter of Persephone

  Chapter 1

  Poppy

  My dress rode up my thighs as the beat of the music vibrated through the floor and up into my body. I was doing what Rox always begged me to—dance like no one was watching. If I wasn't careful, my ass was going to pop out of the tiny thing she called a dress, so I tugged it down. The white, wrinkly material was one of her favorites and was just a smidge too small for me, but I had let her dress me. It was her birthday, after all.

  She shimmied in front of me with a smile that radiated pure joy. Her dress sparkled like a disco ball, which it almost was considering it was covered in plastic pieces that glittered in the light like the back of a CD, and if the lasers drawing shapes in the fog above the dance floor hit her just right, it was almost blinding. When I took in the whole outfit, I knew she was stunning. I had always said she should be a model. Her smooth ebony hair, perfectly mascaraed lashes, and bright pink lips had drawn every male eye in the house.

  “I need a drink!” I yelled over the music right as I felt a set of hands grab my hips.

  The club was packed, and as Rox and I wove through the crowd to the bar, I felt more than one pair of hands trying to cop a feel. There was nothing unusual about that, just part of life to me. It didn't help that I waitressed on the weekends in a shithole of a dive bar where the patrons were sketchier than pretty much anywhere else I had ever worked. But I needed the extra cash, so what was a girl to do?

  Rox squeezed into a small space between two bro-ish-looking guys, and they each assessed her with appreciative eyes. The bartender took her order, and within a couple minutes, we had some pink girly drinks in our hands. My best friend couldn't order a beer to save her life.

  “It's called a Cinderella Number Five,” she yelled into my ear so we could hear each other over the music.

  “What the hell does that mean?” I shouted back.

  Rox just shrugged and smiled in that infuriating way that she only used when she was trying to get me to loosen up and live a little.

  I sipped it cautiously, and the sweet, citrusy drink washed over my taste buds with an alcoholic kick at the end and a slightly bitter aftertaste.

  My best friend downed her drink in three gulps before leaning in and yelling, “Let's go dance!”

  I pointed to my drink in response.

  “Just finish it!”

  I sighed and followed suit, taking a few long pulls from the glass. The drink burned on the way down, and as I set the glass down, I felt a little dizzy. My body’s response was exactly why I never did stuff like that. I'd always been a bit of a lightweight, and Rox knew that, but she was having too much fun to remember, or maybe she was just trying to push me out of my comfort zone. It was one of the reasons we worked so well as friends. She pushed me, and I reined her in. Win, win.

  We were out on the floor again, swaying and jumping to the music in turn, when my body clenched and heat burned along my skin. Not the kind of man, I'm getting a good workout just from dancing heat, but more the cold, clammy sweat kind of heat. It seemed to go to my very core as nausea rolled through me. I swiped my hand over my forehead and around the back of my neck, and it came away damp. A twist of panic coiled inside me, and I knew I shouldn't be feeling like this after two drinks.

  “I'm going to the bathroom,” I yelled, and Rox nodded. We had both spent enough time at that club for birthdays and any other excuse Rox could come up with to go dancing, that we didn't feel the need to accompany one another; plus, trying to get her away from the dance floor was a Herculean task.

  I wove my way through the crowd once more, getting pushed this way and that by the gyrating couples on the edges. After almost missing it, I found the small hallway to the restrooms, and surprisingly, there was no line. It was just me. After looking around to make sure I didn't miss an out of order sign or something, I shrugged to myself and went in. A scream ripped out of my throat as soon as I opened the door.

  Something hovered over the ground, and I saw the shadow of someone slumped against the wall. The shape seemed to turn toward me, moving in my direction. Before I could get the door open and get out of the bathroom, I felt it pass through me, like walking through fog on a cold morning. When I turned back around, the shadow and the hovering thing were gone. There was nothing there except the dirty graffitied tiles and used paper towels that hadn't made it into the trash can. I went into the stall closest to me and just sat for a moment, breathing and trying to process what I had seen. A ghost? Or a spirit?

  The cold chill that broke out over my skin and the nausea rolling in my stomach weren't helping me feel any better. Everything seemed to be closing in on me. The stall was too small, the bathroom echoed, and the music from the club was now battering at me instead of providing good vibrations. The whole feeling of the evening had changed. I was hit by a wave of vertigo when I stood. I felt as if I were ten feet tall, and the idea that someone might have slipped something in my drink was rolling around in my head. There was nothing I could do to shake the sensation of something building within me, something that hadn't been there before, but now it was as if everything else were being forced out.

  The wave of nausea that hit me then was more than just a wave. I turned and vomited everything from the evening into the toilet and grabbed some toilet paper to clean myself up before heading to the sink. Nothing was on the dress, which made me sigh in relief, but I felt awful about getting sick on Rox's birthday night. I reached under the counter. The curtains that hung down hid extra supplies, including a bottle of mouthwash, which I used vigorously. When I could finally think about leaving the bathroom without feeling sick anymore, I went to find my best friend. I sent a silent wave of thanks to whoever was responsible for me finding her at the bar instead of on the dance floor. At least there she was easier to talk to.

  “There you are!” she yelled over the still-thumping music.

  “Sorry, Rox, but I think I'm going to have to call it a night.”

  “Why? What's wrong?” Her eyes widened, and she immediately looked me over, checking for visible illness or injury.

/>   “I think something from dinner isn't agreeing with me,” I said, placing a hand over my stomach. “I don't want to ruin your evening. Was anyone else meeting us here?”

  “Tina is coming by when she gets off work.”

  I tapped my phone's screen. It was probably less than a half hour till the third member of our little tribe appeared, since she would have just arrived at home.

  “I'll wait till she comes, but then I'm going to head out, if that's okay?”

  “Of course it's okay! But you don't have to wait, you know. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

  “I don't doubt that, but it would make me feel better. I'll just hang out here while you go dance your ass off.”

  Rox's eyes were filled with worry, which was only accentuated by the furrowed brow and lack of smile. The girl was always smiling.

  “Go! Dance!” I gave her a small shove.

  “I'll be back in two songs!” she yelled as she walked away, a grin forming on her face once more.

  I flagged down the bartender and asked for a ginger ale. It always helped settle my stomach when I was sick. When it came back in a Moscow mule copper mug and he winked at me, I was surprised and touched by his thoughtfulness when he was obviously run off his feet.

  Being a woman at a bar without an alcoholic drink in hand, or with an obviously non-alcoholic drink, would have put me in prime harassment territory. Usually I could handle it, but I appreciated the thought of the bartender nonetheless. He had made it look as if I were enjoying a nice ginger beer cocktail all while I was just settling my stomach and watching my friend dance as if the world were ending tomorrow.

  The prickling sensation running over my skin was one I only ever had when someone was watching me. It passed quickly enough, and I honestly didn't want to know who it was. I didn't really care. All I wanted was to see Tina's curly red hair and be able to go home and sip on some ginger ale in peace.

 

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