I stare at him and see a firmly planted smile on his face, a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Why would you hand me evidence of my sister's murder? Will this put me in danger too?"
"No. It's a useless piece of junk. Turn it over."
I did so and found an engraving on the back. Runes and words I didn't recognize or understand were carved deep into the metal. The formation, however, is something I recognize. "Is this a spellstone? My sister told me about them."
"That's right. An amulet of protection on the outside, with a decay spell hidden within."
"What does a decay spell do?"
"It eats away at a very specific, very precious metal. This is a type of spell that only a metallurgy specialist can accomplish."
"Detective Cutter, please explain exactly what this is and why I should be amazed and awed by it."
He touches the amulet. "The metal you see here is extremely rare. One of the rarest of them all. Only spellstone masters can perform this level of integration with spellsteel."
I roll my eyes and slouch in the bench, letting my head rest on the bench top. "Adding the word 'spell' in front of a magic-based object is ridiculous."
"I could use the formal names, but that would take even more explanation."
I tilt my head toward him and see his amused expression. "So, what did my sister use this for?"
"To degrade the shackles we used to bind her power. We don't want you to find the murderer, exactly. As a matter of fact, I'd prefer that you face no danger whatsoever."
Ahh. My eyes close. "You want me to find out who gave this to her.”
“Yes, and also why she left the Academy that night."
I run my fingers over the pendant. The edges were rigid and sharp, likely a precision laser or a master engraver.
"So what is the Nightborne Investigation Bureau?"
The gaze he locks onto me freezes me in place. "We're the thing that keeps the monsters in the closet and out of the mundane world."
"Mundane?" I laugh. "What a weird phrase to use. Are you a monster, Detective Cutter?"
"Yep." His smile seems less frigid than before. "I am a natural born lycanthrope."
"You're a—"
He holds up his hand and clears his throat. "We don't like the term werewolf. So please don't ever use it."
"Oh," I say in surprise. "I wasn't going to say were—" I cleared my throat at his glare. "I mean, I was going to say you're a real-life furry. That's all."
His expression tightens and a chill emanates from his body. "The funeral will be held at midnight."
"Why?"
"Many of the families who wish to attend can't do so during the day. They come to honor the sister of a very powerful Nightborne."
I dangle the amulet and let the sun reflect on it. "I thought they would keep the funeral private so it’ll be easier to keep me hidden.”
“The public announcement of her death will give you a reason to stay on Academy grounds during the winter break. It can also be used as cover to explain some personality changes. Most of the attendees won’t even know her name. The casket will be closed for the ceremony.”
Lacey’s twin sister dies and her personality changes. Good cover story. “I never said I would help you, though." And I’m not ready to face a bunch of strangers while pretending to be Lacey.
He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a legal envelope. "Your parents have signed over all rights and legal custody of you and your sister for our use in this investigation. Each parent received considerable compensation for this." The envelope falls on the bench beside me and I ignore it.
"You can't sell children."
"You can if they have blood like yours."
So, Mom and Dad sold me to the Nightborne Academy. I expected hurt or anger, but all I face is a bone-deep level of exhaustion. That's why Dad ran off and left me here. He probably found Mom and signed me away the moment they gave him the opportunity. It had to be pretty significant for him to abandon his cash cow. "Will they be at the funeral?"
"Who?"
"My parents."
"No. And neither will you. You're not ready to face them as you are now. Any one of them can tell you're not Lacey just by looking at you."
I roll that around in my head. If he is lycanthrope, that means other monsters from fairy tales and horror stories are out there too. Lacey's letters never mentioned any of this.
"Is that why I'm here now? To see my sister before she's buried?"
"Yes. Though, she'll be entombed, rather than buried on school grounds."
The Academy has a cemetery. Why am I not surprised? "Why would you and this Academy go so far? I’m not a member here."
"Because we need to protect her body from others. Once she's entombed in here, her body is untouchable by almost everyone, including the headmistress."
So no one can see how she really died. I stand up and put the amulet in my pocket. "How much did you pay my parents?"
"Ms. Reynolds," he began, but I wave him off.
"I deserve to know."
"I can't tell you much." He sighs and stands up as well. "We paid off your mother's mortgage and gave her a yearly sum for the rest of her life that should keep her in comfort." He hesitates and then sighs. "She also suggested that you don't need to return during school breaks."
My eyes blink rapidly as I take it in. Great. Mom of the year. "And my father?"
"His demands are more complicated. I can't tell you what he agreed to."
I run my thumb over the amulet ridge and consider Dad's greed. "Nevermind." I smirk as betrayal twists in my heart. The jobs were never about money more than resources for his spells and research. It didn't take much to figure out what they might have offered him to sell me out. "I'd like some time alone with my sister."
"You really don't have a choice in this."
I glare at him and nod slowly. "You've made that abundantly clear. But I'm not Lacey yet. So give me time to say goodbye to her."
"Alright." He takes the envelope back and holds it up. "I can give you ten minutes, max. We need to talk about your role over the next few months."
I turn and stand perfectly still, waiting for him to let me pass. He steps out of the pew and I walk past him to the aisle leading up to my sister's casket. Dad sold me out. Mom doesn't want to see me. I stare up at the stage. Only my dead sister sticks with me. What a crappy life I lead.
Lacey makes a mischievous face at me and my eyes widen. She holds out her palm over the roses and I see frost slowly coating their fragile red petals. What are you doing? I demand, standing perfectly still in the aisle as the detective's heavy footsteps fade.
The door opens and closes and I glance behind me to make sure he left. Desperate to stop my sister, I rush up to the stage.
"What are you doing?" I ask again.
Lacey laughs in my mind and dives inside the casket.
I gasp. "Get out of there, right now," I demand as I flip open the lid. "This isn't fun—" My throat catches on the word.
My sister. It's real. She's really—
Pain punches through me, shattering the calm I've held onto since she first came to me. The first sob tears loose, opening a floodgate of painful crying. Why did this happen?
I will never see her laugh again. Or read another one of her letters. Even her voice in my mind is probably my imagination.
They did an amazing job of making her look like she's sleeping peacefully.
She lies against blue satin, a strange choice, but one that highlights her pale skin. Her peaceful expression is a lie. Everything about this, this entire scenario, this place, my purpose here, everything is a lie. "Lacey." I brush her bangs back from her forehead with a light touch, afraid to touch her directly.
Her ghost hovers behind me and reaches over to touch the pillow. Ice forms around her head, turning the cloth brittle with cold.
"Why are you doing this?" I ask as tears fall unchecked down my cheeks. "I don't understand."
She float
s around to the other side, her face so close I can see through her to the corpse in the casket. "Did Dad leave?"
She nods.
"Mom, too?"
A slower nod.
"They want me to become you, but I don't know how."
Her gaze slides over my expression and then she smiles and leans forward to kiss my forehead.
I swallow down the ache in my chest and nod, tears flooding my vision. "Okay." My chin trembles as I try to keep the tears at bay, but they overflow anyway.
I sniff and she moves away. Through the haze of my tears, I see her gesture toward her body. She remembers my letters. Touching the dead can let me relive their last moments and sometimes take on their personalities. Isn’t this what Dad suggested earlier?
Kiss her forehead. I can do that. My lips touch her icy skin.
Visions slam into my brain, flooding my mind with sounds and agony. I fall forward against the casket and collapse on top of Lacey's body. Fire courses through my veins, burning away my ability to think. Only pain remains. And a searing tear of my flesh at my wrists and throat. A scream tears out of my throat and I gasp.
"Is my sister in danger?" Lacey's voice asks from beside me.
"Yes." The voice whispers in my ear.
"I won't do it." Lacey's behind me now.
"You don't want to make me your enemy. Cooperating will be in your best interest." The voice distorts as though I'm underwater.
I moan as my skull splinters from within, reshaping itself with fire and ice.
"Best interest?"
"Without our protection, your family will be killed."
She cries inside me and the world gets colder.
It's okay, Lacey. It's not your fault.
Detective Cutter comes into my mind's eye and I fall into the memory, watching him through someone else's eyes. I let out a slow breath and smile at the detective as we sit around a kitchen table. "Since my parents have both sold me out, I guess I don't have a choice."
"Lacey." They both shout at the same time. Mom is pale and afraid. Dad's eyes glow with excitement.
He's just as greedy as Lizzie describes him in her letters.
Ahh. I'm in Lacey's thoughts. Her memories. It's too real to be a dream. I pull back from the scene and try to feel the world around me, but there's nothing but darkness. I return to the scene, letting my senses fall into her memories.
The detective seems the same as before, smirking at me with an arrogant tilt to his head. "We will take every precaution—"
"Save it," I interrupt. My limbs tremble and my head throbs in the same rhythm as my heartbeat. "I'll do what you ask, but there's a price."
"Name it and I'll see what we can do."
"I have two demands. The first is complete autonomy. I will move as I wish during the investigation."
"If you leave school grounds, we can't protect you."
Lacey smirks and I realize she's scared. Terrified, even. She touches something at her throat. Her fingers brush over the fine edges of an amulet. "I don't need your protection. Second, if something happens to me, if I'm targeted like you predict, I want my sister to take my place here. She will complete my education at your Academy."
"Why?"
"Lacey, we already signed the paperwork."
Our minds merge for a moment. We snatch the contract from the table and hold it up. Our fingers brushes along the edge of the amulet. It flares hot in our palm, burning for a flash and then the contract catches on fire, burning to ash in an instant.
Mom and Dad jerk away from us. Dad's greed glimmers beneath the surface, but her act keeps him back.
Good job, Sis.
Pain explodes through the front of my brain, forcing a cry from my throat. My palm burns where Lacey held the amulet.
You shouldn't be here. Claws rip through my mind and I scream as darkness swallows me whole.
6
I gasp awake and try to sit up, but my body rebels immediately. Muscles cramp and my stomach lurches. I fall back on the bed and gasp for air. Everything hurts.
"You're awake." A face looms over the bed and I slowly tilt my head to the side to see the body it’s attached to.
The man has bright eyes similar to Detective Cutter's, slightly eerie, a little jarring, but I'm more concerned about the smoke surrounding him. I can also see through his body to the door behind him. Is he a ghost? If so, this is the first one made of black smoke I've ever come across. Was he like that guy from earlier?
"Who—" My throat closes on the word and I erupt in coughs. Every spasm in my chest burns my lungs and makes my muscles hurt worse.
"Stay still. My body will be here soon." He puts a hand on my head and I'm surprised that it's solid. It's cool to the touch and a strange sensation that's nothing like skin and more like satin. A cool sensation flows through my muscles and lungs, easing the cramps and coughs until I'm left gasping for air in the bed.
I stare up at an unfamiliar ceiling and eye the monitor attached overhead. I'm hooked up to wires and tubes. Is this a hospital? My gaze locks onto the spirit and his words registered in my mind. His body would be here soon? My eyes widen and I draw back into the bed. My reaction amuses him, I can tell.
"Do you know where you are?"
I shake my head no, afraid to speak again. His hand remains on my forehead, cooling my flushed skin.
"You're in the infirmary in the Nightborne Academy annex. The headmistress had you brought in when you collapsed at your sister's funeral."
Collapsed? My face scrunches up as I try to remember. Touching Lacey triggered something, but the memories are splintered and vague.
"Are you uncomfortable anywhere?"
"My wrist and throat hurt." I hold up my wrists and see fine burn scars, similar to the ones Lacey has on her ghost body. "What is this?" I run my fingers over the skin.
"This is from the spell backlash caused by your repression bracelets and choker. Can you tell me how it happened?"
No, it's not mine. This is where Lacey's spell bracelets had burned her. How did I get the marks as well? Was it a residual burst of her old power?
The door opens and I glance over. A man nearly identical to one touching me walks in. Black smoke splits from his body and form into clones of himself. I stare in shock as they split off to do separate jobs. One checks my chart while another arranges a tray full of instruments. I look at the one still touching me. "Is that your body?"
"Yes, it is." He grins at me.
"How many can you make at one time?" I ask the smoke clone in front of me. The main body was the original host, but it felt weird to suddenly ignore the one in front of me.
"We're not sure. I only exist right now."
I blink slowly as my heart clenches in my chest. It's similar to that guy from before. Are they related to one another?
"These are my clones, just whispers of me. Nothing more." The body walks to my side and looks down at me in the bed. His gaze is stronger than the clone's, but I see the way he dismisses them and it irritates me. I don't know why.
"Do you remember what they see or do?"
He tilts his head slightly and seems to ponder for a moment. "I can see their images like a short movie. Sometimes bursts of other sensations, but that’s it."
I look at my clone. "Do you have a name?"
"I'm Doctor Reese. My ability to make copies of myself is why I work in the annex during the winter break."
The clone at my side begins prepping my arm for an IV. I notice that his expression is still serene. "It must make work easier in a way."
"I've performed an eight-hour surgery with a team of clones, but I'd rather not do that again. I had a migraine for two weeks."
His rumbling voice and easy smile put me at ease. "Wow. That's amazing, though." I take a longer look at Dr. Reese. "They work completely independently of you?"
"They have my basic knowledge. I can have them assist me in surgery and small things like IVs and care, but intricate work like surgery requires more focus th
an they're capable of."
"Are they all Dr. Reese?"
He coughs lightly and I catch a faint smile on his face before it disappears. "You ask a lot of questions."
I watch the clone pierce my arm with the needle to start the IV. I barely feel it. "You're surprisingly willing to answer them, so I'll keep going until you stop me."
"Okay, fair enough."
He says nothing else, so I assume it's fine to continue. My curiosity gets the better of me. "Can you cheat at cards?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, if you and three clones sit down to play cards, can you cheat them, and can they cheat you?"
"That's—" He hesitates and then sits down on the stool beside my bed. "You know, I never thought to test it out. What made you ask that?"
"I just wondered if you have a shared consciousness all the time or if they have their own thoughts that you're unable to reach until they disappear." Maybe it was my wishful thinking, but I was hoping the clone by my side was his own person. He seems so much kinder than anyone else I've seen in the past few months.
"I'm not sure, but I'll try it and let you know."
I smile at him. "I'd like that."
"Do you have any more questions?"
"Yes. One more. Do they come out the same every time or is it someone new?"
"They're all me, so I'm not sure how to answer that."
I sit back against the pillow and watch my clone finish setting up the IV bag. "What are you giving me?"
"You're dehydrated, so we're giving you saline. We'll also inject you with a magic defense boost until your cuffs can be placed on you again."
"Magic defense boost?"
"Used to prevent damage and death in the event of a paranormal event or magic incident. They have to be modified to fit your power profile or they'll be useless when needed." Dr. Reese shares almost immediately.
I stare at him. Does he know who I am or is he fishing for information? I'm not supposed to tell anyone my real name.
"You have more questions," he says with a smile.
The clone next to me injects my line with a pink fluid that turns clear almost immediately when it hits the saline. Warmth spreads from the injection site across my body, relaxing muscles I didn't know were tense and easing the pain in my wrists and neck. I touch my skin at my throat and feel the burn mark there. The clone touches my head once more. "Good, some of the pain has lessened. I thought it might be part of the spell backlash. The headache is almost gone."
Nightborne Academy Page 4