by Michele Vail
“I’m not a little girl anymore.”
Some guy I didn’t know had created a baby—me—with my mother. It made me wonder if that was why Mom had bailed. Maybe my father had come back, and she’d skipped out on us to be with him.
That scenario was depressing.
“Alfonso,” offered Nonna in a soothing voice. “Bacio a tua figlia addio.”
Kiss your daughter goodbye.
He stared at me, and I saw the glitter of tears in his eyes. My dad never cried. Grief lodged in my belly like shards of ice. He opened his arms, and for a moment, all I could do was stand there and stare at him and just be angry. Finally I stepped into his embrace and gave him a stiff hug. It was the same kind of comfort he’d always offered me, but now I knew he wasn’t my father. And it hurt. He kissed the top of my head. “Good luck, baby.”
I was holding back tears, feeling choked by the tangle of emotions that knotted my insides. I scooted out of his arms, picked up my duffel bag, and looked at my grandparents. “I’m ready.”
“Yes, Molly,” said Derek, approval gleaming in his eyes. “I believe you are.”
MOLLY’S REAPER DIARY
Second Lesson of Reaperhood
Your. Life. Will. Suck.
What’s left of it.
Get over yourself already.
Chapter 8
“Nekyia Academy is the premiere school for gifted necromancers. We accept less than 2% of students who apply for our program. Are you worthy of Nekyia?”
~Nekyia Academy brochure
My first glimpse of Nekyia Academy was through the tinted glass of a limousine window. The sleek black car drove down a twilight-lit road. On either side, tall trees stretched toward the dreary evening sky; wooden soldiers that stood in thick rows to guard the school.
As we rounded another bend, the gray mist parted to reveal what looked like the monster cousin of Notre Dame. Hey, Dracula, I’m home.
“Gothic much?” I muttered, staring at the gray stone building with its multiple towers, fancy spires, stained-glass windows and, oh look, rooftop gargoyles. Their vicious stone faces glared down at us. I didn’t know what I’d expected, but they seemed kinda unwelcoming. I have to admit that I was nervous. My bravery and determination were still solid, but I was walking into an unknown situation. And after experiencing my grandparents’ lifestyle for a mere weekend, I knew that I was way, way out of my league.
“Mind your manners,” said my grandmother. Her voice sounded as steely as the crossed swords she kept above her fireplace mantel. That display was in the first living room. The other three living rooms featured various other ancient weapons above their fireplaces.
I glanced at her. She sat primly on the seat opposite mine, looking coldly fabulous in her designer pantsuit and high heels. Her silver hair was done in an updo with a few curls draping her cheeks to soften her features. Everything about her face was as sharp as a blade, especially her thin pink lips. Her eyes had crinkles, and lines bracketed her mouth, but even so, you wouldn’t know she was fifty-six years old. Her hair really was silver, not that shiny sort of gray.
My grandparents bled money. As Sandra had explained three days ago when she’d swooped in and plucked me from Grimsby Avenue, she was sole heir to the generational wealth passed down since her family had migrated from their castles in Europe. Of course her reaper lineage was marital. I got the impression she’d gone after the Briarstock name. Poor Derek. He hadn’t stood a chance. We hadn’t spoken about Mom. I’d noticed that there were hardly any family photos displayed in their monstrously big house. There was one portrait of my grandparents, and one of Aunt Lelia in a super fancy gown. I’d asked about my aunt, but that conversational door was shut instantly. My grandmother hadn’t even responded; she’d just looked at me until I’d decided I had something else to do.
Next painful subject. Finding out that Dad wasn’t really my dad was such a huge, awful thing, I didn’t know how to deal. And now all I could think about was...who was my real father? Was I some kind of one-night-stand baby? Or was she dating a jerk? Or...argh! Thinking about it made my head ache.
It had taken a couple hours to get to my grandparents’ house, which was on the edge of a lake. Becks and Gena had stayed in touch the whole weekend, lamenting my sudden life drama. I could always count on them to be fiercely upset on my behalf while also sending out support vibes. Strangely, neither of them had given me the ring I now wore constantly, and Ally had denied putting the gift on my bed.
Rick never responded to my texts, and even though it made me heartsick, I understood why. He’d figured out I wasn’t worth it. Getting your skull caved in probably changed your perspective. All that birthday drama, and I’d just...bailed. Yeah. I’d bailed on my family, my friends, my life.
I felt like I’d eaten a bunch of rocks, and they were piled up in my stomach. I hurt. I just...hurt.
Now the car slid smoothly to a stop in front of the castle. And yeah, it looked like a castle, not like a school at all. Narrow stone steps led to two ginormous wooden doors. My heart started to hammer in my chest. Now that we were here and this was real, I wanted to run back to Vegas.
“Remember,” said my grandmother, her icy-blue gaze sweeping over me, “you represent the Briarstocks. You are a legacy and you will act appropriately.”
I’d gotten at least six haughty different versions of the “you are a Briarstock so act like it” lecture. I don’t know why my aunt Lelia wanted me here, but I’d been thinking it over. I figured Anubis wanted me to be here, too, and obviously I had a lot of work to do to get my reaper skills up to awesome. But after spending a couple days with Derek and Sandra and listening to all the rules and the expectations and the—ugh, Everything That Is Important—I didn’t want to go to Nekyia Academy.
“Do you understand, Molly?” Her voice snapped like whip.
I turned my gaze to her, guessing I looked panicked. Even though I was pissed at her, I had the insane urge to throw myself on her mercy. For a quicksilver moment I saw her glacier gaze soften. Then she pressed her lips together. “Do not disappoint me.”
Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten. Sandra Briarstock had no mercy. I grabbed my purse—my new Holy-Anubis expensive purse. My entire wardrobe, makeup, accessories and other stuff rich people apparently needed, had been purchased by Sandra’s personal assistant and delivered to the school. Well, except for the clothes I was wearing. I didn’t get to choose anything because I had “middle class” tastes. I didn’t really argue much about the clothing situation because...well, what was the point?
I leaned forward and grabbed the door handle.
“A moment, Molly.”
Surprised at the uncertainty that tinged my grandmother’s voice, I paused. She opened her purse and pulled out a slim velvet box. “This was your aunt Lelia’s.”
“Oh.” I took the box. “Um...did Mom have one of these?”
“No.”
My grandmother probably hadn’t kept anything of her youngest daughter’s, aka Her Life’s Disappointment. But the fact Sandra had offered me something of Aunt Lelia’s meant...well, I wasn’t sure. That maybe she missed my aunt, and my aunt’s story, her death, had been important.
I took the box and opened it.
“It’s a pen,” I said.
It was silver, and for a pen, really nice. There was an engraving on it, a triangle, and inside the triangle, a spiral. “What does it mean?”
“Our family symbol,” she said softly. “We had it engraved on the pen. Lelia was forever writing in her journal. Like you do.”
I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t realized my grandmother had noticed me writing in my reaper journal. Or that she would give me something so personal to commemorate it. I’d reminded her of my aunt, and that had made her do something kind. “What?” I asked, my voice cracking. “No skull and crossbones?”
Her eyes flashed with amusement, but she shook her head. “Your sense of humor leaves a lot to be desired, young lady.”
T
here was no heat in her voice, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think she was kinda joking. Suddenly there was a teeny tiny silver lining. Aunt Lelia and Mom had gone to this school, too. Maybe I could find out things about them while I was here.
I had so many questions.
“Thanks.”
She looked as though she wanted to gripe at me for not being all la-de-da formal, but she gave a little sigh instead. Then she nodded toward the door. “Goodbye, Molly.”
“’Bye.” I gathered some courage, and I got out and stood on the bottom step. I watched the limo glide away, following the winding road as it disappeared into the gray mist.
“Miss Briarstock?”
“Crap!” I whirled around, slapping a hand to my chest. A thin, gaunt man stood behind me, his smooth skin an odd shade of gray. His eyes were really weird too—pinpoints of black in the whites. As if only his pupils were showing. He was very well dressed—in fact, he kinda looked like a butler.
“I apologize for startling you, Miss Briarstock. I am Henry. I serve you.”
I vaguely recalled something about a Henry during Lecture 256 from my grandmother, but by the time we’d gotten to the Nekyia-etiquette portion of my torment, I’d started tuning her out. “You...uh, what?”
He blinked slowly as if processing my question. “I am your ghoul. Whatever you want, you need only to ask for it. Shall I show you to your rooms?”
“Ghoul?”
“There are not many of us,” he said. “And none that are new. It is forbidden to make ghouls. Those who exist are bound into the service of their families. I am yours.”
“Hoo-kay.” I didn’t know anything about ghouls. We’d never covered that in History of Necromancy...heck, not even Dem had said anything to me about ghouls. Aside from telling me that I would be attending Nekyia as a legacy and I should act like it, my grandmother hadn’t answered a lot of questions. Although she had admitted that she and my grandfather had met at Nekyia...and then started another lecture about proper behavior of a legacy (yawn). You’ll be apprised of your classes and duties when you arrive, Molly. As a legacy, you receive certain privileges, and as a Briarstock, you are expected to meet the appropriate social obligations.
“This way, miss.” Henry extended his arm toward the big doors. He started up the stairs. With one last look toward the road that had taken me here, I turned and followed the ghoul.
* * *
“There’s been a mistake.”
I glanced around the room, which looked like something out of Sleeping Beauty’s castle, and felt my heart drop to my toes. I clutched my purse. No way was this my room.
It was freaking huge. It had a king-size four-poster bed with red-and-gold curtains pulled back. The comforter was thick and silky red. And there were at least a dozen pillows in red and gold propped against the massive headboard. A big-screen television took up most of the opposite wall. In front of the TV were huge floor pillows and bean bags.
To the left of the bed was an old-fashioned dressing table with three mirrors. Three drawers offered space for makeup and hair accessories. Its chair matched the cherry wood of the desk and bed. There was a door on its left, which I assumed led to a closet.
Overwhelmed, I crossed to the bench seat at the foot of the bed and sat down.
“I’ve put away all your things,” said Henry. He pointed at the furniture on the right wall. “You’ll find your formalwear in the armoire. Your school uniforms are in your closet. Casual clothes and underclothing are in the dresser.”
“Dude.”
Henry looked at me. He did the slow blink thing. “Miss?”
I realized he’d been pointing at the right wall when he mentioned the closet. “Wait. If the closet is that door by the armoire, then what’s the door by the dressing table?”
“Your bathroom, miss.” He then pointed to yet another door—the one on the other side of the dresser. “Through there is your study. Your laptop is ready for use. I was unaware of your musical taste, so I was unable to load the song features.”
“Um, thanks.”
“You are most welcome, miss.”
“This is mine?” I blurted out, hardly able to believe it. “All of this?”
“This room and all that is in it have belonged to the Briarstocks since the school was built. So long as you are a student at Nekyia, this room and its contents are, indeed, yours.”
“Holy crap.”
“If you say so, miss.”
I thought over his words. “The legacies all have rooms like these?”
“Yes,” said Henry. “The five necromancer families who settled this area of California built the school. As the founders, their heirs are entitled to certain privileges...and have certain obligations.”
“Yeah, yeah. So I’ve heard.” I moved off the bench and prowled around the room. I couldn’t believe it. I’d had a good life with my dad, but we weren’t rich. Not by a long shot. Maybe money couldn’t buy happiness, but I’d bet it could come close.
“Where do you stay?” I asked.
“I have accommodations, miss. If you want me, simply call my name and I will appear.”
Yeah, okay, because hey, what kind of rich girl would I be if I didn’t have a magic assistant ghoul who showed up on command? “You mean call you on my cell, right?”
“No,” he said. “Simply call my name.”
“Hoo-kay.”
“Will you dine in your room this evening?” he asked.
“Is that an option?”
“Of course. You are required to take meals in the dining hall only during lunch. Breakfast and dinner are optional.”
I thought about facing all those kids I didn’t know. I had no friends, no allies. Being the new girl sucked. But it really sucked here at Nekyia, where everyone knew their pasts, their families, and what was expected of them. Me? Not so much.
“Yeah. Dinner in the room is cool.”
* * *
I told Henry to get me whatever. I forgot I was dealing with a guy used to serving rich people. He ordered duck breast with apple-honey sauce, roasted saffron potatoes, mixed greens doused with raspberry vinaigrette and crème brûlée for dessert.
By the time I was finished stuffing myself, I was so sleepy, I could barely move from the private table Henry had set up for me. I grabbed some pajamas (silk, thank you) and went into the bathroom to change. When I opened the door, the lights came on automatically. The size of the bathroom was startling. It was freaking pink marble, too. A separate glass shower abutted a bathtub big enough for four people. There was also a double sink with shiny gold fixtures. I opened the two doors opposite the shower/bath and found a toilet in each one.
No way.
I changed into my pajamas. Between the sinks was a basket with a toothbrush and facial cleaning supplies. I brushed my teeth and scrubbed my face. I rubbed on some lotion. Yawning, I shuffled out and shut the door.
The first thing I noticed was that Henry had managed to clean up the remnants of dinner and put away the table and its lone chair. He’d disappeared, too.
The second thing I noticed?
The woman standing oh-so-casually in the middle of my room.
Chapter 9
“When you think you’ve reached your darkest point and there is not even the slightest glimmer of hope...just wait, my sweet necros. Everything will always get a whole lot worse.”
~Medusa Chiles, Headmistress of Nekyia Academy
The woman was tall and slender. Her white blouse was tucked into a black pencil skirt. She wore sensible but expensive black heels. Her red hair was tucked into schoolmarm’s bun. She wore no makeup, but she didn’t need to, not with that killa complexion. Her green eyes were curious and friendly. She held out a hand.
“Hello, Molly. I’m Medusa Chiles, the headmistress of Nekyia Academy. I instruct some of the advanced necro courses, too. I wanted to welcome you personally.”
Her grasp was firm and cool. I pulled my hand from her grip. “Thanks...Ms. Chiles.”
Her eyebrows rose. What? I knew how to be polite. Okay. I wasn’t going to pretend to be all hoity-toity no matter what my grandmother said. Also wasn’t it weird that Medusa Chiles hadn’t bothered to, you know, knock?
Stifling another yawn, I looked longingly toward the bed. Ms. Chiles saw the direction of my gaze and smiled. “I promise I won’t take too long. Since you’re starting classes tomorrow, I wanted to talk to you about our expectations.”
Oh, joy. If my lack of enthusiasm showed on my face, she didn’t mention it.
Instead she gestured toward the bench in front of the four-poster bed, and we both sat.
“You’ve settled in?”
“Yeah. Henry’s been a big help.”
She seemed to find that funny. “I expect so. He’s served your family for a rather long time.”
Maybe that explained why he looked so old.
I drew my knees to my chin and wrapped my arms around my legs. Silence stretched between us, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. I got the impression she was giving me a minute to get myself together.
“As a legacy, you have many responsibilities to Nekyia and its students.”
I had a lot more to worry about than Nekyia’s blue-blood policies. “Why?” I asked.
“When Nekyia Academy was built, the founders made certain provisions for their progeny—which gives you certain perks not necessarily available to other students.” She looked around the room. “Such as your quarters. But you are also expected to fulfill more duties and responsibilities.” She studied me. Then she laid a hand briefly on my shoulder. “You’re different, Molly, and that’s good. Most legacies are...well, they feel entitled, and act as such.”
She was saying my middle-class background might work out for me because...um, why? I had no idea what the social strata was like at Nekyia Academy, but I had a feeling it was much more complicated than my previous high school. No doubt being illegitimate would knock me down a few pegs on the cool scale.
“You’ll be expected to join the Nekros Society.” She offered a thin smile. “Another so-called perk. Legacies do not have to apply, unlike the rest of the student body. Getting into the Society isn’t particularly easy. But then again, not much at Nekyia is considered easy. You will be challenged here, Molly. In many ways.”