by KC Kingmaker
I stopped my ranting and tried to read him between the lines. For a spirit, he was rather nice. Or at least encouraging. “Why do you say that, Dreamwatcher?” I almost giggled when his jaw ticked at the little nickname I’d given him.
“Because you’re much more powerful than when you first came here,” he said simply. He took a seat on the edge of the couch. “When you first arrived in my humble abode, your powers were on the cusp of discovery. Now, your power is burgeoning. Unless you’ve aged down, and years have passed since you were last here—”
“They haven’t. It’s been a month or two.”
He clapped lightly. “There you go then.”
“How can you tell my powers are unlocked?”
“Because lost souls have powers of our own.” He ran a hand through his shaggy hair, looking a bit shamefaced. “Though corporeality isn’t one of them.”
“So I can’t touch you? What was with that creepy ‘let me touch you and you’ll find out’ bullshit?”
He chuckled. “I like to see how people react. You’re funny, lass. You remind me of someone I once knew.”
“That’s great. If I have these ‘powers,’ why can I hardly utilize them? It’s like they’re the last chip in a Pringles tin and I can’t get it no matter how hard I reach.”
“Patience, lass. You’ll get there.”
“When?”
“After you leave here, I reckon.”
I plopped down on the couch, totally vexed. “Well that’s not helpful.”
“Maybe this will be,” he said, groaning as he popped up from his side of the couch. Dreamwatcher towered over me. I had to admit I wasn’t scared of him anymore. The initial surprise had made me wary, but now he didn’t seem half bad. And he’s definitely nice to look at.
My eyes went heavenward, to his face, with a pleading, puppy-dog look.
He reached down and touched my shoulder.
I felt it—rugged, callused fingers made my skin prickle with anticipation, goosebumps breaking out all over me.
I gasped and noticed the surprised twitch of his brow. His shock definitely didn’t help calm me down.
He pulled away from my shoulder like he’d touched fire.
I glanced over where he was looking, on my arm, and saw it was . . . fading. My literal fucking arm was losing consistency, becoming transparent, showing the couch behind it. My jaw dropped, heart starting to hammer against my ribcage again. “Holy shit! What did you do?!”
“I guess it’s time for you to go already.”
I whimpered as more of my body faded away. I had lost both my hands. “Oh God, am I dying?” I stared at the nubs of my arms, which were also vanishing.
If this is death, at least it’s painless.
“Sorry, guess I was wrong. I . . . didn’t know I could do that.” He chuckled nervously and gave me a lopsided smile. “I’m sort of new to this whole thing too, in a way.”
And here I’d thought he was some sort of wise, ancient apparition, like an oracle or truth-teller that could prophesize my future. In actuality, Dreamwatcher was only one step above me on the clueless scale.
“Dammit!” I cried, just as the disappearing act enveloped my torso and neck.
“Until next time, stranger!”
“W-Where will I go?” I asked frantically. My mouth disappeared a second after.
“Through the first shadowgate that brought you here, I suspect. I hope.”
MY EYES TORE OPEN, fear flitting through my body. Darkness swarmed all around me, a sliver of light slicing in overhead. I was on my stomach, on hardwood floor.
When I groaned and raised my head, I felt dizzy and loopy. I put my hand to my temple and squeezed my brow, trying to force my brain back inside.
I took in my surroundings.
And my mouth fell open for the millionth time that evening.
The moon beamed in through a window to my left, creating the murky lance of light overhead. There was an undisturbed bed to my right. Familiar smells reached my nose, coming from down a hall behind me.
Lovely, orgasmic smells I couldn’t help but inhale with a loud sniff.
Sizzling bacon and pillowy pancakes.
The first shadowgate . . . not the portal Sunny used on me. The first portal I ever went through, when Venn stole me from here!
I was back home. In the Crust. In my own room.
Chapter 22
Coralia
AS THE HAZE OF THE portals wore off, excitement filled me. I found myself smiling. I got to my feet, wobbled for a second, and then stared down the narrow hall. Shadows played on the wall at the end of the corridor, coming from the kitchen. Human-shaped shadows.
A million thoughts swirled through my mind. There was so much I wanted to tell Marlow—so much I needed to explain to her! I went through a checklist in my head. I would tell her I hadn’t meant to leave her so abruptly, and that I’d been kidnapped.
No, scratch that. I don’t want to alarm her. If I was kidnapped from here, what’s stopping her from thinking she can be taken, too?
I knew it would be a shock to see me. I needed to play things smart and not give too much away. Undoubtedly she’ll ask if I’ve found anything out about my sister’s disappearance.
I frowned at the thought. Because I hadn’t. Truth be told, I was just as clueless about Myria’s whereabouts as I’d been at the start of the semester. I’d gotten so caught up in the whirlwind fantasy of Shadowblade Academy, that I hadn’t even been able to find a single freaking clue.
So far, I had failed Myria.
When I get back to Shadowblade, I’ve got to really put my nose to the grindstone. No more lollygagging and fawning over hot dudes or worrying about my damn midterms.
I mulled the idea over, a steely resolve settling in my belly. Then it transformed into anxiety. “When” I get back to Shadowblade? More like if I do.
I had no idea how to get back there. I still didn’t know where the Academy was located, and it wasn’t like I could just waltz in even if I did.
Surprise settled where the anxiety had been. I couldn’t believe I was thinking about Shadowblade Academy with such conviction. Like there was nothing else for me to do except get back there. Once upon a time, I couldn’t wait to get back home, to my normal life.
Now things had changed. After finding out I could spit fire from my palm, and researching more, and succeeding in making some alchemical potions, and getting closer to Hudson’s Glove, I realized I was all-in with the Academy. At least until I find Myria.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. First thing’s first. Got to let Marlow know what’s been going on.
I took a deep breath in preparation, then started shuffling down the hallway as quietly as I could on the rug.
Voices from the tiny kitchen filtered in through the corridor. Two voices—one definitely belonging to Marlow, and the other one male.
My crooked smile turned upside down. Hesitantly, I slowed my roll. Dread coursed through my veins in waves, making my head spin. I pulled up short, halfway down the hall, and Charli Fairfax’s words from before abruptly flashed in my mind: “If your friend has knowledge of this place, it could get her implicated or even killed. It could put your friend at risk.”
My eyes stung. I blinked the pain away. Like a scared coward, I pushed myself up against the wall, and a harsh truth came to me: How can I possibly tell Marlow anything that’s happened without sounding crazy, and without involving her in all this?
I’ve been gone for weeks and weeks, without word. I wanted her to jump into my arms, to hug it out like besties did, but I wasn’t so sure that would happen.
In the beginning, Marlow had desperately wanted to help me find Myria. She’d been tired of the boring old Crust life, as she’d put it.
Could I convince her I hadn’t purposefully abandoned her—leaving her here alone to pay rent and possibly find a new roommate? I mean, there’s someone else in that kitchen right now. I can hear them.
Had I been replaced in
my own home?
And, the most pressing question of all: Would telling Marlow about Shadowblade Academy change anything I’d done? Or would it only put her in needless danger?
If I was her, I’d think I sounded batshit insane. I mean, really, shadowgates and fox shifters and faeries and ancient, magical powers? Marlow vaguely knew about “Abnorms,” but not the true depth of the supernatural world and the level in which it permeated our human one.
The fear of rejection froze me to the floor. The risk made me realize I couldn’t do it. For Marlow’s sake, I couldn’t jeopardize her life just because I wanted her to know I wasn’t a shitty person; that I had meant to involve her, but plans had changed.
At the end of the day, Shadowblade Academy was homebrewing assassins. If their main law was that anyone outside of the Academy couldn’t know it existed, and they found out what I’d done by telling Marlow, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind they’d send a killer after her.
I craned my neck to stare up at the chipped ceiling of our little shotgun abode. It had served me well while I’d lived in the Crust, but until I was positively done and over with Shadowblade Academy, I couldn’t let anyone know I’d been back here.
I fought back tears and listened against the wall, hearing the echoes from the kitchen.
“Breakfast for dinner, babe? Really?” the male voice chuckled.
I recognized the voice. It made me furrow my brow in disbelief. No fucking way. Brad . . . from Lindon’s? The same Brad who tried to ask Marlow out “no less than eight times,” according to her? Was she really just playing hard-to-get all that time?
“Shut it,” Marlow snarled, but there wasn’t much bite behind her words. If anything, she sounded sad and a little nostalgic. “It was Coralia’s favorite.”
My bottom lip trembled and tears spilled from my eyes. I couldn’t sniff or make a sound for fear of being caught, and I couldn’t keep in my emotions.
“Oh.” Brad grunted. After some fork-on-plate scraping and a crunchy chomp, he said, “Did you ever find out what happened to her?”
“Nope. She just up and disappeared. Left me a little note, but it didn’t even sound like her.”
It’s because it wasn’t me who wrote it. Venn wrote the note—“Off YOLOing,” or some bullshit.
Brad let out a little harrumph. “Well, if it was me, I’d stop thinking about her. She abandoned you.”
“Shut up, Brad.”
Yeah, shut up, Brad.
Marlow’s tension was like a taut rubber band ready to snap. “I’m sure she had her reasons.”
I didn’t mean to abandon you, honey! I was kidnapped!
As they went back to their food, eating in stiff silence, I retreated toward my room before I had the chance to become a blubbering mess and risk detection. I stalked through the hall like a mouse through a shipwreck, and felt terrible for abandoning Marlow once again.
I debated leaving another letter for her on my old bed, but decided against it. That would only spook the shit out of her.
I closed the door to the room, leaving it slightly ajar, and then went to the window and cracked it open. Seconds later, I pushed myself out into the sticky New Orleans evening.
I closed the window behind me and hurried away from the condo. It was only when I had put enough distance between myself and the house, and thought I’d eluded discovery, that I broke down on the street and sobbed.
AN HOUR OR SO LATER, my tears had dried up. My spirit felt weak and my heart felt hollow. With my shoulders slumped and my head bowed, I aimlessly wandered the Crust.
I realized I was making my way, however subconsciously, to Jose’s Ranchero. Probably because I need to drown my sorrows in booze.
Jose’s was the scene of my twenty-first birthday—the catalyst, when everything changed in my life. It was where Sunny had first tried to capture me in the alley, like a crazed stalker, but I had fought off his advances.
Now I’d found myself in the exact same place, sent back by the same man. Fucking fool, that guy.
Unless this is all just a test? The thought perked my head up. What if the Academy knows I’m here, and they’re just seeing how I react to being plopped back into the human world?
A second later, I scoffed at the idea.
No, Sunny Conway doesn’t have that much foresight. He was just trying to bully me, as usual, and fucked up this time.
I passed by Madame du Mond’s psychic parlor, which was closed. As I walked by, I found myself trying to think back on the woman’s eerie prophecy. I hadn’t thought about it in a while.
It took just a few seconds to recall the omen:
“Six dark ways to reach the abyss.
Five knuckles to complete the fist.
Four years’ time to slit the wrist.
Powers and troubles come in threes.
Two twin souls miss the forest for the trees.
One dark day to be tainted and free.”
Once I replayed it on a loop a few times, my eyebrows jumped. I slowed my sad, leisurely walk, realizing some of it made sense now. Where I had once thought of it as a jumbled mess of nonsense, now the Madame’s words fit into what I knew about Shadowblade Academy.
“Five knuckles to complete the fist,” I said aloud. It takes five “Knuckles,” or students, to make a “Glove,” or team.
“Six dark ways to reach the abyss.” That must be alluding to the different schools of shadow magic—shadow manipulation, shadowwalking, and others I haven’t learned about yet—that allow you to draw on the Shadow Realm.
“Four years’ time to slit the wrist.” Alarm pulsed through me as I repeated that line. The “Wrist” is the professor-leader of each Glove. Such as Jace Hudson. The words sounded foreboding. Does it mean something bad is going to happen to Jace in four years? I needed to ask him or alert him.
For the moment, I still couldn’t decipher the second half of the omen. But it made me giddy and antsy to know I had possibly uncovered some of it.
I poked my head up from the street and saw Jose’s Ranchero was only two blocks away. I had made it.
“Coralia.”
The voice behind me stopped me cold.
I slowly turned to find Venn Gable twenty paces away, his hands shoved into a fluffy jacket. The hood over his head not only hid his lilac skin, but made his expression unreadable. The man struck quite a dramatic figure in the New Orleans night, with orange lamplight highlighting him like a statue.
My pulse spiked. “Venn,” I croaked. My voice came out raspy and weak, most likely because I hadn’t used it in hours and I’d been crying.
I debated running, solely because my fight-or-fight was telling me to. It irked me that I couldn’t read his face to know if he was disappointed, angry, or if he saw me as a threat now that I was wandering human grounds after staying at his precious Academy.
When he stepped toward me and my body inadvertently flexed, he stopped and put his hands up. “I’m not here to harm you, Coralia.”
I sneered. “Did they send you because you’re the nicest and the closest to me?”
He cocked his head, surprise shadowing his face. “What? No. I came on my own volition.”
“Why?”
His gaze looked worried—not for me, but possibly for my sanity. “Um, to bring you back, of course.”
“Am I going to be punished if I go back, Venn?”
He shook his head. “No, hun. I’ll make sure you aren’t. You did nothing wrong.”
There it was again: “Hun.” My defenses broke, and I didn’t even hear the rest of what he’d said. My resolve shattered and I suddenly felt like a vulnerable little girl. Heavy emotions rolled through me as my inner strength toppled like a house of cards.
I gave him puppy-dog eyes and sniffled. I couldn’t believe the knot of excitement dancing inside me, seeing him in the Crust. The same man who had forcefully taken me from here.
In such a short time, Shadowblade Academy and its strange inhabitants had become the great obsession of m
y life.
Before my mind could tell me to stop, my feet carried me toward him. I rushed into Venn and he swept me up in a tight embrace as our bodies collided. When I wrapped my arms tight around his torso, he let out a soft gasp.
“Oh, Venn,” I whispered, pushing my cheek against his strong chest. “Please take me back.”
“Really?” he said, his body language stiff. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight than this.”
I shook my head and stared up into his purple eyes. “I’ve seen enough of this place.”
“Of ‘this place’? You mean your home?”
Another tear trickled down my cheek. The last one, I vowed, I would give to this disastrous world and my disastrous return to it.
“That’s just it, Venn. I’m afraid I don’t have a home anymore.”
His smile was soft and gentle. “Then make a home with us, Coralia.”
Chapter 23
Venn
I FELT NAUSEOUS AFTER dropping Coralia off at the women’s dorm so she could reunite with her best friend and her cat. It wasn’t until I started walking away in the brisk night that I realized I was losing my shit.
The way my heart had thrummed when she’d wrapped her arms around me. How my pulse had spiked when she stared up at me with those big, vulnerable eyes, filled with pain. It all led me to one thing: I was falling for Coralia Hargrave. Hard.
And yet, the sensations made me feel like I was a traitor, because she didn’t know my affection for her had stemmed from false pretenses.
When Coralia’s power signature had been noticed by Headmaster Cane, Hudson’s Glove had been put in charge of bringing the girl to Shadowblade Academy. In a case of “keep your friends close but your enemies closer,” I assumed, I had brought her here to keep her out of evil hands. But I knew Alaric Cane had an ulterior motive. The crafty son of a bitch always did. And now I worried I had dropped Coralia into the very evil hands he had been warning about.
I acted as the headmaster’s spy, but how long would I only be a spy? The Academy trained killers. I was one of them. I feared what Alaric would eventually ask me to do. No, not ask, but demand. She would be deemed too great a threat to the Academy, for some arbitrary reason or other, and she would need to be killed.