Ghost Academy: Book One

by E. C. Farrell

  The tips of his fingers brush my jaw, following it to cup the back of my neck. “Don’t think I’d mind that much at all.”

  We make the move at almost the exact same time, our lips meeting in the middle. I don’t remember if I ever kissed anyone when I was alive, but if I did, I’m positive it was nothing like this. Cold and heat collide in me all at once. And though it takes a round or two to get in sync, the process is giggle-filled and all kinds of wonderful.

  Rafe slides his other arm around my waist, pulling me closer. I grin against his lips and thread my fingers through his hair. For this one, shining moment, I forget all the conspiracies, all the mysteries, all the loss swirling around my afterlife. I’m wrapped up entirely in him and I never want to untangle myself from this place.

  I trace his nose with mine, and trail kisses down to his neck.

  Then an earth shattering scream shocks us both apart. Terrified, I half roll, half jump off Rafe, scrambling around to stare at a massive Twisted Ghost tearing through the woods toward us.

  My chest clenches as I kick the ground to try to get upright and out of the way. Rafe and I grab at each other’s arms, stumbling sideways seconds before the massive, screaming shadow plows into us. Its whirlwind tugs at me, trying to pull me into its orbit the way Abby did to Mark at the party.

  My eyes sting with tears at the pain radiating off it.

  Spinning back around, the Twisted Ghost rages after us. Rafe’s feet go flying out from under him and I barely get a good grip on his arm before he’s sucked backward. I grab the trunk of a tree and dig the heels of my boots into the dirt, pulling as hard as I can. Fur springs up along Rafe’s arms as he shifts into fox form.

  His paw nearly slips from my fingers, but he’s so much lighter now that yanking him toward me is easy. Rafe curls against my jacket as I whip myself around the tree and sprint for Locklear. The Twisted Ghost beats me to the door. I cling to Rafe, my feet stuttering as I back peddle into the nearest tree.

  A thin branch breaks off in my hand and, in a moment of sheer, illogical panic, I lift it in front of my face. Words pour out of my mouth, a spell I know as well as the one I used to fight the Xers in Blacksburg, and blue light sparks across the wood in my hand. It fans out like a glowing shield in front of me and Rafe and all at once the tugging feeling dies out.

  The Twisted Ghost recoils from it, screaming louder. Under all the rage and fury, I hear one, heart-shattering word: “help.”

  Tears spill over my cheeks. Something about the voice is painfully familiar. Memory hovers just out of reach. I stretch for it, but can’t seem to even touch its edges. If I could just get past that stupid mental wall. Swallowing, I glance down at Rafe, then inch forward.

  The fox still in my arms digs his claws into my jacket, but doesn’t try to escape. It’s almost like he’s anchoring himself to hang on for the insane ride I just decided to take us on. I could put him down, let him run, but he might be safer behind this spell than anywhere else.

  I take a breath and, keeping the shield up, step forward.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Twisted Ghost moves away from me as I move toward it or, more accurately, my shield repels it. I almost drop the stick. If I’d been alone, I definitely would have. But the fox still hooked onto my jacket keeps me from making a stupid decision. Instead, I stop in place, and wait a moment.

  When the Twisted Ghost neither advances nor retreats, I ask, “You need help?”

  That spinning, whirring shadow cringes away again, but then wails with such ferocity my shield shatters. I crash onto my backside, clinging to Rafe with both arms now as the branch tumbles away from us. He scrambles out of my grip and shifts back into human form. His hands hook around my waist, trying to pull me out of the way.

  The Twisted Ghost charges toward us again. Inches before it sweeps over me and Rafe, Kaz jumps between us, wielding his staff. Its light overtakes everything around us, blinding me completely and totally. A gust of what feels like a hurricane force wind rushes from where Kaz stands, forcing Rafe and me to the ground.

  When it fades out and I blink, the Twisted Ghost is gone, leaving Kaz alone in the clearing in front of us, chest heaving, staff now dim in his hand.

  With a sigh, I completely deflate into Rafe’s arms, gasping and shaking. All of that just happened. Like, really happened. I used another spell I knew innately, held a Twisted Ghost at bay and spoke to it. I’d also put Rafe in danger, but he didn’t run.

  Kaz whips around to face us. “What in the realm of the dead were you thinking? You saw what happens to anyone who gets near one of the Twisted. If you’d been sucked in—”

  “It was asking for help,” I say, cutting him off. “I couldn’t ignore that.”

  “Asking for help?” Kaz wrinkles his brow.

  I stand on shaky legs, leaning on Rafe for support. “In its screams. I heard it asking for help. And since I figured out a spell to hold it off, I thought, I don’t know, that I might be able to talk to it.”

  Eyes narrowed, Kaz looks at Rafe. “Did you hear it ask for help?”

  “No.” Rafe rubs the back of his neck. “But I’m also not a medium, or a witch with medium powers. Isn’t it possible Billie could have heard what it was saying when I couldn’t?”

  Kaz waves his hand. “It doesn’t matter either way. That thing could have sucked you both inside and then what? You can’t help them, they’re beyond help.”

  I dig my nails into my palms. “Are we sure about that? What do we even know about them apart from the noise they make? I don’t remember much about being alive, but I do know that it’s the kids in the worst pain who lash out the most.”

  It’s someone else’s voice in my head feeding me these words, the same voice I heard in the life flash I had in the Healing Ward. Hailey. I’m hearing my sister Hailey. She worked, or maybe still works, with children who’ve had one or both of their parents die.

  I press my palms against my throbbing temples, shutting my eyes to try and dig out more information, but Rafe speaks and distracts me.

  “You’re a medium, right Kaz? Have you ever heard one talk?”

  Kaz’s face sags and he traces the end of his staff with a thumb. “No. But...I guess I’ve never listened. We were taught not to.”

  He sinks into a squatted position. Sadness radiates off of him. I glance up at Rafe, then risk taking a few steps toward the Ghost Guide. Sitting cross-legged in front of him, I lean forward to try and catch his eyes.

  “I mean, it’s kind of hard to make sense of anything over all that shouting and the whole sucking you into their orbit thing. I probably heard it on a fluke.”

  Kaz shakes his head. “I thought I’d left behind all of my Xer assumptions when I died, but I guess I’ve still got some blinders on.” He meets my gaze. “We have a lot to talk about, especially with that shield you just conjured up. Let’s get inside.”

  The three of us head to the combat room where we can talk without getting interrupted. Rafe and I sit on the bottom step of the risers near the practice weapons, my mind pulled in multiple directions. My body, or spirit rather, tries to take over the whole show. The memory of Rafe’s warm lips lingers on mine, the feel of our chests pressed together, of our hips meeting...

  Heat flushes my face. As much as I would love to revisit our make out session, now is not the time. I shake my head and focus on Kaz pacing the mat in front of us. His face is tight and he keeps spinning the staff between his fingers. Its smooth motion is oddly mesmerizing. Even when he stops to face us his hands continue to move.

  “As you know, I used to be an Xer.” Kaz lets the staff tap the ground lightly before flipping it around again. “Like many extremists, Xers are generational. My family has been in the business of torching bones and attachment objects for a very long time. Usually, we dealt with local hauntings, but right before I died, we heard a rumor that there was a large concentration of ghosts close by. So my brother, Zen, and I came to check it out.”

  Rafe lifts his br
ows. “You’d found Locklear?”

  “Exactly.” Kaz scratches the back of his head. “When we got here, we used a spell to see the school. This was the first moment I started to realize we might have been wrong about the way we thought about ghosts in general. My brother wanted to call the others and launch an attack, but I wanted to know more, so I convinced him to do a little recon.”

  I cross my legs and rest my elbows on my knees. “So your family knows about Locklear?”

  “No.” Kaz paces again. “We checked in, but I didn’t give them any details, not even a general location. Then, while we were searching the grounds, Mr. Qureshi confronted me when I was alone. Even though I’d heard there were mediums who believed that not all ghosts were dangerous, I’d never actually talked with one before. My parents always told us not to listen to them, that they were liars. I almost shot him on the spot. But I was curious enough to hear him out. He told me that what we were doing was creating more of a problem, then showed me one of the Twisted.”

  Kaz bumps the staff against the side of his foot, paces a few more times, then faces us again. “Then my brother showed up. He wasn’t so willing to listen. Zen believed the Twisted ghosts were a trick. All hell broke loose. He shot at Mr. Qureshi and when I tried to stop him…” he trails and drops his head. “Zen had a spelled bomb. It went off and took both of us out.”

  My fingers ache as I twist them together. “That’s so awful.”

  “It was.” Kaz nods. “Thankfully, Mr. Qureshi wasn’t in the line of fire. He was there to help us in the afterlife though. It took time, but becoming a ghost yourself makes it a lot harder to argue their innate harmfulness, so Zen came around eventually. He works in the upper academy as a Ghost Guide too. We both tried to go back to our family to talk to them, but they weren’t willing to listen. Each of us came out of those encounters with our fair share of scars.”

  “Man, I thought my relationship with my mom was complicated.” Rafe grins a little and Kaz lets out a legitimate chuckle.

  “All family is hard, but I still have hope one day mine will understand.” Kaz twirls his staff again. “I tell you all of this not just to explain Landon’s accusations — without truth, there can be no trust — but also to help you understand my mentality toward ghosts in general and the Twisted specifically.”

  I chew my lower lip. This entire explanation gives me insight into Kaz’s worldview, but it still doesn’t answer one of the biggest questions I have. “Okay, if truth breeds trust, then tell me this; where are you sending the students that get twisted?”

  Kaz’s eyes darken. He spins his staff to rest on his shoulders and hooks both arms over either side. A muscle in his jaw ticks. “I’m not allowed to disclose their location with students for security reasons, but they are contained and safe. Or, as safe as they can be.”

  This dodge doesn’t surprise me. Even with all the truth telling, there was no way getting that piece of information was going to be easy. I doubt very seriously we’re going to be able to convince him to tell us any more than this, but maybe with the right questions, I can figure out some other details.

  “Is anything being done to help them?” I ask.

  Kaz sighs. “Not at the moment. Though if you can communicate with them…” He shakes his head. “We’ll have to talk to Mr. Qureshi. I don’t know that he’d let you near them, but if there’s any possibility of helping them, he might be willing to consider it.”

  Now we’re getting somewhere. The thought of speaking with him after overhearing his conversation with Ms. Alvarez scares me a little, but avoiding him is sheer stupidity. Maybe I can convince him to tell me what the Healers want to do with me.

  I sit up a little, shoulders back. “Then let’s go talk to Mr. Qureshi.”

  Chapter Twenty

  When we reach Mr. Qureshi’s office, our headmaster is just locking up for the night. He smiles, but it’s a little pinched, possibly with worry. Hopefully, not about me. “Ah, Ms. Martin. I’m so glad to see you out of the Healing Ward. We were all so worried after you and Rafe came back. How are you feeling?”

  “A little strung out to be honest,” I say, studying his facial expressions. “I want to talk to the Twisted you’ve been protecting.”

  It’s crazy bold, but sometimes you need crazy boldness. Like Theo’s rapid fire questions, a little audacity might just shock Mr. Qureshi into giving into my wild request.

  The headmaster blinks, his eyes sweeping from me, to Rafe, then Kaz. I honestly can’t tell if he’s scared or just surprised. “I’m afraid I’m going to need you all to start from the beginning.” He unlocks his door again and we slip inside.

  Rafe and I sit in the seats across from his desk. Now that some of the adrenaline from the attack has worn off, the memory of our kiss in the woods sends heat through me. A small part of me wants to forget about the difficult discussion ahead and drag him out of the room for a little DTR. And some more making out.

  But first I have to convince Mr. Qureshi to let me try to help the Twisted.

  “Tell him about what happened in the woods, Billie,” Kaz says. He remains standing at the door, arms crossed over his chest, staff on his back as Mr. Qureshi settles into his desk chair.

  I drag my lower lip through my teeth. “I had another encounter with one of the Twisted—”

  Mr. Qureshi throws up a hand. “I’m sorry, you encountered one of the Twisted?” He looks at Kaz. “Was this a student? Were you able to...take care of it?”

  “I’m not sure who it was,” Kaz says. “And it fled before I could direct it to the holding area. This is its second attack—”

  I glare at him.

  “Appearance at the school,” he amends. “I’m fairly certain this particular twisted ghost was also present when I found Billie in the fields near Locklear. I plan to look for it after we’re finished here.”

  Dragging a hand through his hair, Mr. Qureshi sighs and looks back to me. “I apologize for the interruption. Please continue.”

  “It asked for help.”

  Our headmaster’s eyes pop. “Asked for help?”

  “I think so.” I adjust a little in my seat, hating how uncertain this statement sounds. “I mean, yes. Yes it did. It was a little hard to hear under all the yelling and pain, but I know that’s what I heard. And if I can communicate with them, then maybe they’re still in there. Maybe they’re not stuck that way.”

  “Ms. Martin, I…” Mr. Qureshi trails, then shakes his head. “We have dealt with the Twisted for years, as have countless other witches with medium powers, and none of them have ever been able to communicate with them. I dislike clinging to pessimism, but I don’t want to give anyone false hope.”

  “But it can’t hurt to let her try and talk to them, right?” Rafe asks.

  I could give him a big sloppy kiss for that, but I decided to maintain some small amount of decorum. Making out with another student in the headmaster’s office probably won’t help me convince him that my plan to help the Twisted is a solid one.

  “It’s far too dangerous,” Mr. Qureshi says. “If I allow you to go speak to them, you might get dragged into their shadows. It’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”

  “So, you’re just going to let them stay down there, wherever that is?” My jaw aches, pulsing along with that stupid pounding in my head as my temper thins out.

  Mr. Qureshi frowns, the lines on his face deepening. “We’re working on a solution. More specifically, the staff is working on a solution. Trust me. None of us wants to leave them in the state they are currently trapped in. What I won’t do is send a student anywhere near that holding area.”

  My eyes sting and I stand much faster than I mean to. “I’m already at risk since I can’t find my body. Why can’t—”

  “That’s my final word, Ms. Martin.” Mr. Qureshi frowns, then smooths out his tone to say, “I’m sorry.”

  This is so unfair. I swallow a growl and push past Kaz into the hallway before I say something epically stupid that b
urns every bridge I’ve made so far. I’m halfway to the dorms by the time Rafe catches up. He doesn’t say anything as we continue to walk, and after a few moments in his presence, my anger eases up a bit.

  I sigh. “On a scale of after school special to reality TV, how ridiculous was my storming out?”

  Rafe laughs. “Maybe somewhere in the middle. I don’t blame you though. Wanting to help but not being able to is the worst feeling ever. Trust me, I know.”

  Reaching for his hand, I lace my fingers with his. “I’m sorry. You’ve got enough on your brain without having to worry about all of this. I should be focusing on helping you deal with your mommy issues so you can find your sister.”

  “This is important too. Because if I ever get Twisted, I definitely want someone to talk to.” Rafe winks. “But you know I’m going to help you right? Just because Mr. Qureshi won’t tell us where they’re keeping the Twisted doesn’t mean we give up. Yasmin and Haya are still looking at those blueprints. Maybe they’ll find whatever this holding area is, and we can go ourselves.”

  “Or…” my brain whirrs as another crazy idea hits me. “We could search for the one we encountered in the woods.”

  Rafe stops and looks down at me. “I don’t know. That sounds way more dangerous than facing them in a contained holding area.”

  Fear flickers across his face and I can’t really blame him. It’s one thing for me to want to go after this thing. While I have the ability to keep it at bay, to protect myself, he doesn’t have that luxury. I really can’t ask him to come with me if I decide to try and hunt down the Twisted Ghost. No matter how much I want to.

  I turn to face him fully, resolving not to drag him into danger again if I can absolutely help it. “You’re right. We’ll wait to see what Yasmin and Haya find. In the meantime,” I lift up onto my toes and brush my lips across his, “we need to have a much more pleasant discussion.”

  Rafe grins and nuzzles my nose. “Why? You don’t make out with all your friends? Dang, guess I’ve been doing it wrong all these years.”