Charm School (The Demon's Apprentice Book 4)

by Ben Reeder

  “And so am I,” Mom said. I wasn’t fast enough to stop my laugh, and it came out in a snort.

  “You will…” Polter said, then stopped as when Mom turned her glare on him.

  “I will what?” Mom hissed. “Go on, finish that sentence.”

  “This is the finest school in the nation,” Polter said. “Show a little respect.”

  “I’m showing as little respect as I can,” Mom said. “Or did you think I had forgotten that you voted to kill my son? If this is your alma mater, then I certainly don’t want his name tainted with its stench. I was against sending him here in the first place.”

  “Your son blew up a nearly three-hundred-year old building, I’ll have you know.”

  “Only one?” Mom asked. “I’d say he stopped too soon!”

  “Miss Murathy, please,” Caldecott said. “I understand your position, and we are truly grateful to your son for what he did.”

  “And the truth is,” Draeden said, “there are several powerful families who feel a certain debt of gratitude to him as well. After all, he did save their children from a fate that was truly worse than death. Even Andrew should be able to understand, however, that this is not the kind of thing the school wants to be known for.”

  “Well, if he wants discretion,” Mom said, “he certainly doesn’t know how to get it.”

  “Agreed,” Draeden said. “Master Polter, please excuse yourself.”

  “Master Draeden, I have every right to be here.”

  “Your presence is not helping, Andrew. Now please go. While it is still a request.”

  Polter got to his feet and left the room, huffing and muttering.

  “Now,” Caldecott said. “Perhaps we can make some progress. Miss Murathy, Master Polter’s sentiments aside, we do truly appreciate your son’s efforts here. He is a good student, which would make him an exemplary student anywhere else. Letters of commendation and references from any instructor here carry a certain…authority that will help your son later in life. But…I am afraid Master Draeden is also correct. We would certainly appreciate your discretion regarding this whole matter. Especially regarding the fact that an instructor was involved, to say nothing of the eleven students he recruited.”

  “Eleven?” I asked. “There should have been twelve students. He had a full thirteen people in the circle.”

  “So we thought as well. But…we never did find any other sign of Miss Hart. The damage to her room was extensive, and we were unable to retrieve enough evidence from it to confirm her involvement. But back to the matter at hand. Your discretion in this matter…is of the utmost importance. If there is anything we can do to ensure that our students do not suffer unduly from the damage such information might do to this school’s reputation, if it is within our power, you have only to ask.”

  “I can think of something,” I said with a smile. Caldecott turned a shade of green before he nodded. “If he’s willing, I want Ren’s contract.”

  “Just one indentured sprite? You could have as many of them you wished, willing or not.”

  “Just the one, and that one in particular. And I want you to give Hoshi Nakamura and Kiya Marlin the same kind of commendations and references you’re giving me. And…” I stopped, my throat suddenly too tight to speak for a moment. “And you have to do right by Desiree and her family. Make sure people remember what she did.”

  “The Council will see to her final arrangements,” Draeden said. “Her family will not want for anything, I assure you.”

  “And…the students have already begun an impromptu shrine to her,” Caldecott said, his own voice a little sad. “We will do something more…formal soon. Something befitting her sacrifice. We’ll also take care of your friends. They’re both welcome back here any time, as well.”

  “We’ve put my son through enough, I think,” Mom said. “Chance, why don’t you go on, and wait by the carriage.”

  I stood up and wiped my eyes. Caldecott came around from behind his desk and offered me his hand. After a moment’s hesitation, I took it. The familiar tingle of contained power hit my palm, then I let go and headed for the door, letting the adults do the formal shit adults did. Mom put a hand on my arm, and I stopped for a second. I didn’t have a smile for her. All I had was half of one, but it seemed to be enough.

  Outside, I found myself face to round face with Desiree’s Gram. Nearly a dozen other people were gathered in the waiting area as well, but Gram was the one who was right where she needed to be.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered to her, unable to meet her gaze.

  “Shush you,” she said. “Look at me.” She took my chin in her hand and turned me to face her. “Look in my eyes.” I did, and did a double take. Her eyes were normal, not the solid black of a cambion. Her forehead was smooth, unmarred by horns.

  “Your eyes,” I said. “What happened to your… and your horns?”

  “My Desiree,” she said. “She redeemed us all.”

  “She saved a lot of lives, too.”

  “They told us that you…you were with her till the end. That you held her hand. And that you cried over her like she was your own blood.” All I could do was nod. Hot tears slid down my cheeks as the wound opened anew. “Not many would do that for one of us. You’re family, Chance Fortunato. The blood of the covenant runs thicker than the water of the womb.” She wrapped her arms around me and held me tight for a moment, then pulled away and kissed my cheek. We both stood a little straighter, and she turned and walked out of the room, leaving me to face the parents of the other kids that we did save.

  Most of them just sat there and watched me go, but one man stood and approached me. Sterling Lodge was a step behind him. “I’m Davis Lodge. Young man, if you ever need anything at all, you call me. Day or night.” He pressed a business card into my left hand, then grabbed my right and shook it. Tears coursed down his cheeks. “Thank you,” he said, his hand still gripping mine. “For saving my son. Thank you.”

  Sterling put his hand on my shoulder when his father stepped back and held his own right hand out. I took it. “Look, I don’t know how to thank you, especially after…you know.”

  “I know. It’s okay. Just…make your life…worth the sacrifice. That’s all I can ask.”

  “I will.” He stepped aside and let me past.

  Junkyard was waiting in the carriage, and my luggage was loaded onto the back. I turned around a looked back at the Franklin Academy, and thought there were only a couple of times in my life that I was as glad to leave a place behind. For all that it was supposed to be this paragon of education, I couldn’t help but think that it was so stuck in its traditions and standards that it had forgotten the most powerful thing about magick: the mystery. They had reduced it to formulas and recipes, into a tool for getting what you wanted. I had already learned from Dr. Corwin that it was much more than that. It was the bond between friends, the sound of your sister’s laugh. The power of your mother’s smile to make you move mountains just to be on the receiving end of it. It was the way the hair stood up on my arms when I heard my favorite musicians play, or how my lips tingled when Shade kissed me. It was in fire and lightning, wind and rain. That was where magick lived. But understanding it? That was a journey that took a lifetime. I sure as the Nine Hells wasn’t going to figure it out here.

  Another carriage pulled up behind ours, and the driver got down and opened the door. My heart froze in my chest as I saw the woman who got out. Silky white hair, the way she walked, the way she stood; I knew before she turned my way that her eyes would be silver. I knew this woman, even though I had never met her before. Just the memory of her was enough to make my breath come in short gasps and drop the bottom out of my stomach. Her gaze locked onto mine, and her lips moved ever so slightly, creating a smile that Dr. Corwin’s memories replayed often.

  “Kim,” I whispered, finally saying her name out loud. The smile disappeared, and her head tilted to one side. Between heartbeats, she became a blur, then she was right in front of me.
I felt something cold and thin at my throat, and her eyes filled my vision.

  “Who are you?” she demanded. “How do you know me?”

  “I’m Chance,” I said. “I…remember you.”

  “We have never met, and only one man has ever said my name the way you just did.”

  “Dr. Corwyn,” I whispered. “He’s my mentor. We shared memories a year ago.”

  “Trevor,” she breathed, and suddenly it was her turn to look gut punched. “Oh, sweet Inari.” She took a step back, and I saw the blade she’d held to my throat. Almost as soon as I saw it, the blade disappeared with a flicker of movement, and her eyes came up to my face, never quite meeting mine.

  “Is he here?” she asked, hope and fear in her voice. I nodded. “You must not tell him you saw me. He cannot know of this.”

  “Why the hell not?” I demanded. “He loves you!”

  “And I, him,” she said, her voice sad. “Please, promise me you will not tell my Trevor that you saw me. Please.” My Trevor. He would have done anything to hear her say that to him again. Dr. Corwin loved her too much to ever say no to her, and so help me, I could see why. Even the memory of his feelings for her made me love her a little too.

  “I promise,” I said. The bond sealed between us, and she smiled as her hair ruffled in the ethereal breeze.

  “I will make this right,” she said before she turned away.

  “You better,” I said to her retreating back. She stopped and turned back to face me, her expression stern for a moment. Then her features softened and she inclined her head. A sudden warm rush hit me as she took on the burden of some unspoken promise of her own. She disappeared into the carriage, and moments later, Hoshi came out of the building and got in her carriage, then it sped off, leaving me with the puzzle pieces clicking in place. Kim was Hoshi’s kai ma, his kitsune god mother. Another secret I couldn’t tell anyone about. Great.

  There’s no place like home, I thought. And I couldn’t wait to get back there.

  The door to the hall opened, and Draden came out with his overcoat draped over his forearm. “None of this worked out as I’d hoped,” he said as he walked toward me.

  . “What did you think was going to happen?”

  “I had hoped the Academy would be a positive influence on you.”

  “Surprise,” I said. “It wasn’t.” I looked off toward the Blockhouse, where I knew Talbot was being kept, then turned away. My face burned in shame, and I was glad Desiree hadn’t been there to see what I’d done to him. “I learned a lot of things here. But not how to be a good person. I need to be around my friends and my family to learn that. I need Dr. Corwin to show me the right way to be a mage.”

  “Perhaps you’re right,” Dreaden said. “I had hoped this place would take some of the rough edges off of you, but it appears as though that is your greatest strength.”

  “Hey, I’m a New Essex kid, not some blue blood,” I said.

  “I’m learning that perhaps it’s best to leave well enough alone along those lines,” Draeden said.

  “Damn straight,” I said. “I don’t do normal worth a damn.”

  “Obviously,” he said with a smile. “The offer to take the jet back home is still open.”

  “Sure, sounds good,” I said. He owed me at least that much. I got into the carriage and leaned back into the seat. My goodbyes had already been said, and with Hoshi and Kiya already gone, I had no reason to want to stick around. I was leaving the Franklin Academy with a lot of new knowledge, but there was an aching wound on my soul as well. Wizards weren’t supposed to be whiny. But we could hurt. And we could heal. It was time to go home.

  Letter to the Reader

  Dear Reader,

  First of all, I want thank you for your patience with waiting for Charm School. I know this one has taken longer than the others. Between other contract obligations with a publisher and a lot of family business to deal with, I’ve faced more delays than usual. This was also a more subtle mystery than usual, and I had to be very careful not to give away too much, but also not to conceal too much as well. Here’s hoping I got it right.

  As always, your reviews are more than welcome, and in fact, necessary. Every book is driven by its reviews, They not only help me improve as a writer, but also help bring new fans to join your number. So, please, if you’ve made it this far, I’d appreciate reading your thoughts. Another way you can help not only self-published writers like me, but any artist you like, is by posting links to their work on your social media. Just a quick word and a link is all it takes to help support your favorite authors, artists and musicians.

  Independent authors like myself need your support. As always, you’ll find some of my fellow indie authors suggested in the pages following. I’ve been friends with EM Ervin and JM Guillen for years, and I’ve only recently met RR Virdi, but the man is not only an amazing writer, he’s a whirlwind of inspiration and support. What can I say? I have good taste in writer friends. If you enjoy the Demon’s Apprentice series, the Nasaru Chronicles or the Dossiers of Asset 108, then I think you’ll also like the Grave Report.

  Thank you again for your patience and your continued support, dear reader. I appreciate all the kind words and encouragement. I remain

  Yours truly,

  Ben Reeder

  Grave Beginnings by RR Virdi

  Thirteen... As far as numbers go, it isn't a great one. Hell, it's not even a good one and Vincent Graves is going to find out just how unlucky of a number it can be. Because someone, or something, is killing people in the Empire state, and whatever it is, it gives people everything they ever desired and more. And it's the more that's the problem! Well...it's one of the problems. Vincent's investigation also seems to have drawn the attention of a relentless FBI agent and then there's the little bit where he has only thirteen hours to solve the case, or he dies. Talk about your literal deadlines... ...No pressure. By the end of this case Vincent will come to understand the meaning of an age old proverb: Be careful what you wish for - because you just might get it!

  "I believe R.R. Virdi belongs with other Urban Fantasy greats like Jim Butcher. The Grave Report is sure to go far and only pick up more fans with each successful novel. I can't wait to see where R.R. Virdi will take us next." — A Drop Of Ink Reviews

  "Fast paced, humorous, with action and drama on every page and paragraph, this paranormal thriller is reminiscent of one of my all-time favorite authors. This is like Jim Butcher's The Dresden Files but with a flavor all its own. RR Virdi is fame-bound with this series. If you like Jim Butcher, you'll enjoy this one. Highly Recommend." — CD Coffelt ~ Author of The Wilder Mage

  Wake Up Call by EM Ervin

  Jo is your average, everyday seventeen year old girl.

  Wait, no she's not. Not by a longshot.

  She is a girl with a secret. Possessed of powers no one would believe even if they knew that she had them. The ability to create illusions at thought is a dangerous weapon in the most responsible of hands, and Jo's aren't exactly squeaky clean.

  Ever the trouble magnet, Jo is accustomed to finding more than her fair share of problems - most of which she brings on herself. The rebellious daughter of a senator and a diplomat, she has a rap sheet and has been kicked out of nearly every prestigious private school on the Eastern Seaboard.

  This time, she's vowed to make an actual effort. Not to fit in - that'd be impossible - but to just not get kicked out.

  Of course, this would be the school that turns out to be the favorite hunting grounds of a homicidal ghost.

  What could possibly happen?

  Aberrant Vectors (Dossiers of Asset 108) by JM Guillen

  November 17,1999

  San Francisco, California

  Few things are worse than a system undergoing a cold boot...

  Michael Bishop is an Asset of the Facility, but tonight is his night off. His expectation is to have a few drinks with his friend Wyatt Guthrie, perhaps go out and have a night on the town.

  But th
e Facility has made other arrangements.

  Before he realizes what has happened, Asset 108 has been dispatched to a carnage-filled interior location, lit only with flickering and lurid light. As Michael drifts through the shadows, encountering stuttering and broken Facility technology, he attempts to figure out why he has been dispatched here and what his mission is.

  Yet before he can, he is fighting for his life.

  Soon, with his personal gear malfunctioning, Bishop is standing against foes familiar to him, foes that have been transformed into inhuman abominations. With time running out, he finds his way to his cadre, and they fight their way to the depths of the mysterious Spire. There, they discover remnants of a lost, broken, carnage-filled world.

  As Michael and his cadre stands against the inhabitants of an entire world of bloody ruin, he is forced to face a painful truth.

  It is possible that this dossier will be his last...