First Project

by Jennifer Rose McMahon

  Keep turning to read a free sample of Book Two, URBAN MYSTIC ACADEMY: SECOND PROJECT

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  Sample-Urban Mystic Academy: Second Project

  Supposedly, returning to school after completing the first project would be epic. Our powers would be tweaking after being put to the ultimate test and we’d be more bonded than ever. We’d finally be able to act normal again and integrate back into the student body like the regular kids. But that turned out to be the farthest thing from the truth.

  Maybe it was the distraction of my new pink hair that derailed the heightened celebration.

  Or maybe it was the fact that Ms. Kelly was still absent and the gossip mill had churned out more rumors about her alleged misconduct than we could count.

  But the stares and whispers in the hallways had reached an all time high, reminding me that nothing had changed. It had only become worse.

  The pink hair shouldn’t have been such a big deal. I mean, the purple version was far more intense. I always changed the color just as I was about to transition to something new, so the timing felt natural, almost like a rebirth. And I’d never gone the pink route before, it always seemed too optimistic, proving that I’d likely become overly eager. My impatience may have caused a bit of a back-fire.

  I brushed off the judging glares and bombed toward my first-period class. Seeing Dom would ground me again, especially since Laney would be on the absent list for quite a while. Her world had turned upside-down not only when her powers became blocked but more so as her mother had her rights read and was taken away by the police. I felt bad for a milli-second but remembered quickly the evil the Roscos were capable of.

  I shuddered at the thought of how they had hurt the town of Lakefield. Their hate and vengeance ran deep and laced every breath they took.

  It made sense to me now, though.

  At first, I thought Laney was a queen-bee-bitch for the fun of it—destroying teen lives at every turn. But after meeting her ghostly ancestor who’d been burned at the stake in Hell’s Gates—now caught in limbo, and feeding off the souls of local children—I had new perspective on her royal bitchiness.

  Turning into my AP Lit class, I scanned the room for Dom, looking forward to seeing him for the first time since he tore off into the woods of Hell’s Gates in his wolf form. He’d been out of touch all weekend and I worried that he was struggling with his new ‘situation’. I’m sure bursting into a wolf was not on his high school bucket list. It probably was the last thing he thought even possible, and likely had him pretty freaked out.

  I wouldn’t blame him. Seeing him transform into an enormous snarling wolf had rattled me, but not as much as I would have expected. It was almost like I anticipated it. He’d demonstrate several wolf-like tendencies, but more so, it was the heat and energy that radiated off him that warned me something was about to explode.

  And not to mention, there was something seriously hot about it.

  Gazing through the rows of desks, I searched for Dom as the late bell rang. Everyone took their seats as Mr. Benson, the Senior Slayer, marched into the room with a look of determination that he’d teach us the classics whether we liked it or not. I took my seat before being told to, and stared at Dom’s empty desk.

  *

  Seeing Poorva at our lab station in physics sent relief through my bones. My imagination had run away with me while I sat through Mr. Benson’s droning lecture in Lit class. I worried that maybe I was the only UMA who’d made it to school that day. I panicked that something or someone had gotten to some of us, pulling us away from each other. It was deep-seeded fear that we all share.

  And now, I couldn’t help but worry about Dom. It made no sense that he wasn’t here in school.

  “Poorva,” I gasped. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Of course I am,” she said. “I wouldn’t miss it. The next school day after completing a project is the best and most important. We all get to recount everything that happened and we pull together the final report. It’s always super energy charged and exciting.” Her bright eyes flashed as she checked the clock. “One more hour,” she stated.

  “But Dom’s not here,” I blurted. “He wasn’t in Lit.”

  Her expression shifted in an instant as her brows pulled in. “What?”

  “He’s not here, Poorva.”

  Her pensive silence worried me as she pulled her hand through her long black hair. “Where could he be?” she murmured. “It makes no sense.”

  Setting up our ramp for our acceleration and velocity lab, we fumbled our way through the project while remaining focused on only one thing—Dom’s absence.

  “Did he ever come out of the woods?” Poorva asked. “Did anyone notice or see him after that?”

  “I have no idea,” I whispered. “I think in the excitement of it all, we each did our own form of recovery yesterday.”

  “Like, the hair?” She took the ends of my pink hair and rubbed them. “It looks amazing. Almost not real.”

  “Yeah, it’s kind of what I do when something big is happening,” I huffed. “Like a coping mechanism, I guess.”

  She grinned. “Well, I like it.” She lifted her hands to me and showed me her bit-off nails. “This is my coping mechanism. Not quite as pretty.”

  “Seems like that’s a natural response,” I said, setting up our lab station, wondering what all the bits were for.

  She rolled the tennis ball in thought. “So, Dom and Courtney were the only ones who didn’t text in the group yesterday. It didn’t seem unusual at the time,” she mumbled in concentration. “I just assumed Dom would be embarrassed or confused by what happened to him. And Courtney never replies, either way.”

  “I wondered that about Dom, too,” I agreed. “Behind all the bravado, he’s actually really sensitive. Maybe he just couldn’t get out of bed today.” I discreetly checked my phone for any new texts.

  As we focused on rolling the tennis ball down our makeshift ramp, we recorded the speed-data blindly. The students around us chattered about their results, making predictions about their next roll, but Poorva and I sat in silence, waiting impatiently for the bell.

  Our teacher moved from station to station, checking on each team’s progress. Poorva rushed our conclusion onto the data collection sheet as I disassembled the lab. Just as Dr. Corley approached our bench, a strange sound filled my mind and I shot my eyes to Poorva.

  Her hand smacked over her mouth as she listened harder. Our eyes locked onto each other as we focused on the eerie sound.

  Dr. Corley’s voice morphed around us as he attempted to gain our attention. “Your results are….”

  Hum. Buzz. Bur. His words whirled around us, finding no way in.

  But the sound in our heads, it grew more clear as we stared at each other in silence.

  “My boy….,” a cracking voice grated through our minds.

  I reached for Poorva and grabbed her arms. Her rapid breathing proved she was hearing the same thing.

  “Girls, are you okay?” Dr. Corley’s voice broke into our circle.

  “My boy….,” the cackle grew louder.

  I crouched, pressing my hands over my ears with a wince. “No!” I blasted.

  Poorva stepped back covering her ears, as well, and shaking her head. “Stop!” she cried.

  The voice grew louder, calling to us. “I hear you. I feel you,” it said. “Return him to me. I won’t rest until he’s returned.”

  I pulled Poorva away from the lab station and ran toward our desks. We grabbed our backpacks and stumbled toward the door.

  “Yes, to the nurse,” Dr. Corley called to us with a shaking voice. “Or to the counseling office, whichever….”

  We fell into the hall and bombed away from the classroom, looking back to be sure the Dark Witch wasn’t
on our tails. Her evil voice shot terror into our souls and our natural response was to run.

  Turning the corner down the C wing, we smashed into another student running in our direction.

  “Blake!” I gasped.

  Then Shane and Courtney barreled around the corner with the same look of terror in their eyes.

  We huddled tight together in the hall, gasping for air.

  “What the fuck?” Shane blasted. “Fuck!”

  Staring wildly at each other, waiting for the next assault on our senses, we jumped as the bell rang.

  “Come on,” I said, ushering them to follow. “To the guidance suite!”

  *

  We stormed the guidance suite and threw our packs in every direction. Pulling chairs over to the center table, we squished in around it and let out a collective exhale.

  “Isn’t this supposed to be the part when we regale our success story and celebrate our awesomeness?” Shane snarked.

  Everyone remained silent, as if anticipating another bone-chilling assault on our senses from the dark witch.

  I glanced across the table at Courtney. Her eyes were wide as saucers, but she was interacting and emoting like the rest of us.

  “Courtney, you’re back,” I whispered.

  Her hair wisped away from her face, exposing a restful gaze. The grimace of pain and suffering had been wiped away, allowing for her to talk with us now. It was a huge win from the first project.

  She nodded with a slight smile, likely still getting used to the fact that she finally wasn’t burning from the inside out. Her gruesome torture had finally subsided.

  But Shane was right, there was no rejoicing at the moment. We were still being threatened and had no time to sit back and party.

  Then our heads shot in the same direction as a jarring voice pulled our attention toward the offices.

  “Ms. Damien will supervisor your advisory group while I determine how you’ll be reassigned.” Principal Haney’s voice punched us in our faces.

  Ms. Damien glared at us like we were an inconvenience to her day. How a school secretary could remain employed after proving her distain for students over and over was beyond me.

  Principal Haney scanned our group and I caught a glimpse of uncertainty in her eyes. Or was it fear?

  I turned to Shane and he lifted his brows at me. He had seen her apprehension too.

  “When will Ms. Kelly be back?” Blake called out.

  My spine stiffened as I glared at him for bringing her up so soon.

  We had no idea if she would be returning.

  Her cause for dismissal would likely be reversed, particularly when Sargent Flynn got a chance to clear her name, but convincing Principal Haney of her innocence would be the next hurdle. And judging by the way she glared at us, it would be a monumental task.

  But we needed Ms. Kelly.

  It would be awful if we were separated and sent to new advisory groups. We needed the face-to-face time with Ms. Kelly, and her group activities, in order to continue our growth. Her mentorship was what got us this far. I could only imagine how much more we could grow if she were here with us.

  We sat in silence, refusing to allow Ms. Damien to overhear our conversations. Her watchful gaze proved she was hoping to gather any information possible to add to her gossip circles. Even in our silence, she was probably collecting details to spin through the rumor mill—something like, “They’re so odd. Sitting in silence staring at each other. Freaks.”

  It didn’t matter what she thought, though. And those who listened to her tales, they weren’t worth it either. But why did it have to be so hard to convince myself that the judgers didn’t matter? I groaned in annoyance.

  Shane laughed at my response to Ms. Damien’s presence.

  Then Courtney chuckled.

  The tension of the moment relaxed some and once Blake and Poorva let out giggles, we lost it.

  We laughed out loud until tears rolled down our faces. The release was beyond cathartic as we hunched over, holding our stomachs in ab-crunching guffaws.

  After a few more seconds, we settled down, gasping for air. Ms. Damien stared at us like we were crazy and tapped away on her phone, texting whoever would listen to her rant about us.

  Just as we regained our composure, a voice entered our silent circle.

  “I’m glad to see you are all together again,” the voice said. “But one is missing?”

  Ms. Kelly!

  Our eyes shot wide and we stared at each other, straining to hear every word. We darted our gazes around to be sure we all were hearing it. Our piqued reactions made it clear we were.

  I sucked in air and held it, listening intently.

  “Ms. Kelly?” I channeled my thoughts to her.

  In an explosion, everyone’s voices joined mine at a silent, focused point above our table. The space opened in our minds, allowing for all of our voices to be heard without any of us making a sound. Our collective consciousness was in tact, even without Dom, and Ms. Kelly was able to access it.

  “Yes, hello students,” Ms. Kelly said. “I’m very proud of all of you and will never be able to thank you enough. You’ve accomplished your first project with amazing skill, exceeding my expectations ten-fold.”

  We remained silent, listening to her every word.

  She continued. “However, it is not over. I sense danger within your circle. There’s an evil presence.”

  My breath whooshed out of me, along with the other’s.

  Blake’s voice rose above. “It’s the same one I’d felt before. It’s able to enter our thoughts.”

  Silence hovered in our thoughts as insidious fear creeped through us like venom.

  We knew we were in danger.

  The Dark Witch was still among us and Ms. Kelly sensed it too.

  Just as the bell was about to ring, ending advisory period, she added, “It is not over, students, and therefore, without much opportunity for rest, I must help focus you. It is time.” She paused. “Time to assign the second project.”

  Urban Mystic Academy: Second Project

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