Cursed Magic: Harper Shadow Academy (Book Two)

by Luna Pierce

  “Willow,” Silas speaks up, interrupting my concentration. “You need to be careful.”

  I’d wager to say he can feel exactly what I’m feeling, the unknown negative power tapping into me.

  I block him out, siphoning the darkness from Sydney, taking it into my body to deal with itself.

  Sydney stirs, confirming my suspicions were correct. It wasn’t a sleeping potion, he consumed his glitch—enough of it to render him completely defenseless. Sydney’s glitch is blueberries.

  He sits up in a rush, taking a gigantic breath of air into his lungs. “You’re here,” he mutters with the saddest eyes.

  “I’m here.” I pause only slightly. “I need you to tell me what happened. I need the truth.” The concern of his condition is being put on the backburner while I search for the missing information.

  He meets my eyes. “My mom… she told me about the stone at family day. She planted the seed, and it’s continued to eat me alive since then, knowing we had something to help you find your mom. I had no idea she wanted me to act on it. She urged against it… told me she wasn’t willing to help, that we don’t do charity cases. I had no idea she was manipulating me to lure you out there. Willow… I’m so sorry. I never meant for you to come into any danger. I swear it on my life.”

  His energy is pure, straightforward.

  “Who is she working for?” Silas chimes in.

  Sydney glances up at him and shrugs. “They don’t tell me that kind of stuff. They’re very private.” He focuses back on me. “I never would have taken you there if I knew what they were planning.” Sydney grabs onto my hand, his magic flowing into mine.

  His voice drifts into my head. “Please forgive me.” His eyes betray a desperate longing.

  “I need some time.” I withdraw my hand.

  Sydney swallows and nods. “Okay.”

  “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I will rip you in two,” Silas growls. “You may have lucked out this time, but if so much as a hair on her head is hurt on your behalf, you’ll have wished—”

  I hush Silas, placing my hands on his chest and forcing him to calm down. “He’s not going to hurt me. He didn’t know. We all make mistakes.” It takes more effort than normal to calm him, the glitch still being processed in my system.

  How can I struggle to absolve Sydney if I’m guilty of making wrong decisions in the past, too?

  “Did you find the stone?” I ask Sydney.

  He rises from the bed, walking over to his backpack. Syd reaches inside, bringing out a deep-crimson rock. It sparkles in the light.

  “No, absolutely not,” Silas interrupts.

  “They have risks, Willow. I didn’t tell you that before because I knew how badly you wanted to find your mom. But you need to be aware that using the stone can be dangerous.” Sydney sighs. “That’s why I thought that we could destroy it once we’ve found her.”

  “Wait, what?” I glance from the stone to his radiant green eyes.

  “Whatever power you give it will be demolished along with it, eliminating any threat it may pose.” He flips it over in his hand.

  “Aren’t those things super hard to come by, really rare?” I add.

  “It’s nothing compared to you.”

  “But…”

  “No, I’ve already decided. You need to find your mom, and I refuse to put you at risk. This is the only way. I’ll do anything to prove to you that you’re worth more than some magical rock or family ties.”

  “Family is important to our kind,” he had said to me during our intimate shadow realm repair sessions.

  He holds the stone out to Silas. “Here, she trusts you, so you can have this for safekeeping.”

  How can it be possible that Sydney is sacrificing so much right now? This important magical thing, his relationship with his blood relatives, his defiant distaste with vampires. He’s doing all of this for me? All when I accused him of scheming behind my back. I got in his face and told him that what we had was over. I demanded that he stay away. I can’t imagine how that felt, knowing what I do now.

  I thought I was a fool for believing him then, but I was really just an idiot for doubting him. We all have our secrets, but his intentions were never to do the things I had thought he was capable of.

  “We’ll think about it.” Silas takes the stone into his hand, eyeing it with great scrutiny.

  “Doesn’t seem like a terrible idea.” Deghan sits on the bed across from me.

  “I would focus on getting rid of that thing in your head first. It weakens you. So it may weaken the connection you have to your mother,” Sydney says.

  How can I do something I have no idea how to? “I would if I could. It’s not that easy. I’ve tried to no avail. It’s latched on in some permanent way, and I can’t break its hold.”

  “Keep trying. You’ll figure it out. You’re strong, stronger than you think.”

  Back inside my dorm, Cameron and Deghan decide they’re going to go together to get lunch and bring it to us. They both hug me and go on their way.

  I turn around, Silas standing a few feet away.

  He extends his arms, and I waddle on over to him.

  “What are we going to do?” I mumble into his chest.

  Tugging my face, he clutches it in his hands. Silas presses his warm lips to mine for a long moment. “We’ve got to free your mind.”

  I shake my head. “It’s impossible.”

  “No, it isn’t. Nothing is impossible.” His eyes pulse with their violet hue. “Do you remember not too long ago… doing this…” He grazes his hand along my cheek. “Was unbearable? You made it happen. You did. Now, nothing can stop us from touching. You made the unimaginable come to life.”

  “I knew what it took to break the curse, though. And I killed you, Silas.” The defeat of not knowing how to fix this is growing wild.

  “You have to think. You can figure this out.” He tilts up my chin. “I believe in you. More than any other force on the planet.”

  An idea strikes, but I push it away, not wanting to give any clues to the demon possessing my mind. “Do you think you could give me some time alone?” I lean up and whisper in his ear, “Trust me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I spell the door shut, then mosey on over to my bed, the absence of Silas filling my body. Lying back, I note the haze creeping in, just as I had expected.

  “Hello, old friend,” I think.

  “I’m no fool to your tricks,” it responds.

  “I thought maybe we could chat for once… I could learn about the person invading my mind.” I speak in a cool, calm, and collected manner.

  “I am no person, nor one sole entity. I am all things combined into a host.”

  “That’s interesting. Do you have a body?”

  “Of course I have a body, you imbecile.”

  “Oh, how was I supposed to know?” I hesitate. “Could you show me?”

  “Why, aren’t you a curious one.”

  “You could say that. If your plan succeeds, which I see no reason for it not to, why not grant me this one thing?”

  “Ahh, you’ve finally given up?”

  “Unless you want to confess how to get you out of my head, then no. It’s been weeks, and I’ve made no progress.” I sigh in defeat. “If I stop resisting, can you assure me that no harm will come to my friends?”

  Evil laughter ensues. “And now you’re making demands.”

  “Did you expect anything less?”

  A huff. “I have no qualms with your associates. Although, that witch will have problems of his own to face soon enough.”

  “What kind of problems?” My heart speeds up, and I urge it to calm down.

  “You ask too many questions, peasant. Haven’t you had your fill?”

  “You never denied that I could see your form.” I swallow deeply, preparing myself for what’s to come.

  With my eyes still closed, clouds roll in my line of sight, whipping about and settling. A shape appears and
comes forward.

  The red emerges first, gloriously tattered red wings, attached to a muscular and armored body. The armor shines despite the lack of light in my head. The creature’s eyes are solid onyx balls, its lips painted black, contrasting against the fire-red skin. Swirls of darkness cover its arms, almost like tattoos… or blood running through its veins. It clutches a long wand in its hand, with sharp silver daggers on both ends.

  “Are you satisfied?” The voice is different now, not the same as mine, but deep and raspy, more suitable to the image I land my sights upon.

  Without allowing the demon to retreat, I do the thing I came here to do. Willing it to happen, I summon myself inward, ripping my being from my body and placing it into my mind. The shift is intense, and the change takes longer than I had hoped, but once it does, I glance down, studying the hands attached to the body I brought to life inside my own head.

  “Impossible,” the demon shouts.

  “Nothing is impossible, you should be aware of that.” I move my hands, getting used to the different atmosphere here. I surge my power forward, and it ripples down my arm and into my hand with a force greater than I’ve ever known. I must be stronger inside my own head.

  The demon turns, looking for a way out, but I disallow it, kneeling and then throwing a blast of energy into the space, creating a dome blocking his exit.

  “Now, now,” I taunt. “Leaving so soon?”

  “You want a battle? I’ll give you one.” It thrusts the shaft into the ground, hurling a burst of energy through it.

  I stumble but regain my footing in a flash, twirling my hands around and throwing a ball of power its way.

  The demon dodges it and stalks forward.

  “I need a weapon,” I whisper to myself. The air around me whooshes, and a sword appears in my hand, brandished with deep-purple highlights.

  Purple? My magic is pink.

  I turn it over. A green glow radiates from the other side, and the handle sparkles of gold.

  The guys. They’ve somehow given me some of their power. How that’s even possible, I don’t have the luxury of time to figure out right now.

  The weapon is perfectly my size, not too big, not too small, the appropriate weight to fit into my hand with ease, becoming an extension of myself.

  I wave it to and fro in an attempt to get acquainted with the weapon, and it glitters with power, leaving trails of misted magic in its wake.

  “Are you done playing games?” The demon steps sideways like he’s stalking his prey.

  At least I think it’s a he. The masculine build and manly bravado could be misleading.

  Instead of letting him lead, I take a cautious yet confident leap toward him, sending him unsure of where to move next.

  Once I’m close enough, I spin around, slashing at him with my sword, deflecting when he blocks my blow and defends himself.

  “This will be a rather enjoyable experience.” He slams his weapon into mine, the blades clanking loudly and sparking with a mix of colors. “You cannot defeat me.” Another blow, this time low.

  I jump, missing the attack, and once I’m midair, I swing, slicing a bare section of his upper arm. A vivid emerald dazzles from the blade.

  Thanks, Sydney.

  “Luck,” the demon spits. “You have no talent, no skill. The only reason you’ve made it thus far is pure luck.”

  I take off in a sprint, circling the demon, running up the dome shielding behind him, and swinging my sword across his exposed back. “You call that luck?” Golden flickers in the dimness of the area.

  Deghan.

  “You will never make it out of here alive. Your friends will not mourn you; they will move on and live better lives without you pathetically dragging them down.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Nothing. You are nothing, Willow Oliver.” He lunges forward, an undiluted rage boiling from him. The sword, gripped in both of his hands, comes flying down onto me.

  I kneel and raise my weapon. It seems measly compared to his, but the punch it packs is lethal. I shield my face, not sure whether it will withstand the blow, but somehow it sends the demon staggering back the moment the two come into contact. Violet sparks go everywhere, raining down around me.

  Silas.

  I take the opportunity to stand, firm on both feet. “You’re wrong.” I pursue him. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

  The demon glances out of the corner of his eye, clearly trying to locate a way out while I back him into the wall.

  “I can sense your fear,” I say. “You are damn well aware that you are outmatched.”

  At this, the demon huffs, throwing down his weapon. It vaporizes, and for the slightest second, I think I’ve won, that he will submit and plead for my mercy to be set free.

  But I was wrong.

  And instead, multiple small daggers appear in both of his hands, and a devilish grin spreads across his evil face. Without me being able to react, he throws one toward me, and it lands deeply in my left thigh. Pain, blisteringly hot and nothing I’ve ever experienced before, rattles through me. He throws another. This one finds a home inches away from the first. The third grazes my thigh and wedges into my pants.

  I bite down a terrified scream, not wanting to allow him the satisfaction of his upper hand.

  My vision goes white, and the only thing I can think to do is reach down, gripping the serrated blades impaled in my thigh and rip them out.

  “Shall I say I told you so?” The demon sneers.

  I infuse the bloodied knives with my magic and send one flying as soon as my sights come back, totally catching him off guard.

  The metal penetrates his leg, in the same spot he had hit me. He heaves forward, true pain surging into him, and damn is it a glorious sight.

  “You…you…” He stutters and slurs his speech, incapable of forming words through the agony. “Your blood.”

  My blood? What about it? Is that what doubled him over? I glance at my leg, unsure of what the fuck he’s talking about. I shift my focus at something in my peripheral—a faint glowing of white wings flashes and then disappears.

  Angel blood.

  I hold the soaked weapon tightly in my hand, scraping against my gushing wound, making sure to cover it fully. I throw it with such force that it slices through his armor and impales his shoulder.

  He falls onto his hind side, slopping about like a fool. Terror and such shock consume his features.

  “Bitch!” he screams. “There is no help for you. Regardless of what happens here, you will never win. This life you think you own is not yours, as you are a puppet in something much bigger. Forever you will be bound to serve another.”

  “You’re wrong. You are another pathetic lackey that I will take down on this quest to free my people. Whatever you think they have in store for me, I will be prepared to take on each challenge when they come.” Ripping the last dagger from my bottoms, I drag my injured leg and limp toward him, determination superseding the anguish.

  I swipe it across my hand, pooling fresh blood from the self-made wound, wiping it back and forth across the blade. Standing atop the weakened demon, watching him grapple at his own daggers lodged into his body, I wave my hand over his form, the hot droplets sizzling on impact.

  “You will be alone forever. No one cares about you, not the way you think they do. You are never going to amount to anything.” His voice is strained, nothing like the arrogant demeanor he once exuded. “All of the things I’ve been telling you are no more than what you already fear.”

  I shake my head, tears threatening to tumble down, but not sad ones in response to his statement, but because I realize how terribly wrong he is, how stupid I ever was for allowing him to weaken me.

  I am an Oliver witch, descended from the angels themselves. I am potent and resilient.

  “Your words, your pointless attempts to take what will never be yours. It’s all been for nothing other than making me realize my true strengths,” I grit out through my
teeth, the immense sharp spikes of pain still hitting me. “You are not real.”

  I slam the dagger into his chest cavity, the force rattling through my hands.

  His blackened mouth bubbles over with a thick tar-like substance, and the existence leaves his already dead-looking eyes.

  The demon explodes, specks of black and red filling the air and dissolving, sending me falling onto the empty ground.

  I lie there, turning over and reaching upward, pulling the magic from the dome back into my body. The returning force slams me up and then down, hard.

  My head tilts to the side, and I mutter, “Come in,” and everything fades to black.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, your efforts never pay off. Failure is this thing you grow accustomed to, almost like an old friend you secretly despise, but accept that they’ll be in your life forever. It becomes something you can rely on, something you make a place for regardless of whether it’s what you want.

  But then sometimes, you realize you have to be more concerned with succeeding, rather than focused on failing. And once you unlock that knowledge, you can do anything if you put your mind to it, because failure will no longer be this thing you fear, but something you can live with and overcome. Something that won’t stop you from fulfilling your destiny, but something that tells you you’re on the right path. Great things aren’t easy, and the biggest rewards come from perseverance.

  You only have to hone the will to push forward and make it happen.

  At least, that’s what I told myself in my last moments.

  And when the angels greeted me, magnificent and breathtakingly beautiful, wings spread and hovering in what appeared to be clouds, they rotated their hands, spinning me around and throwing me back to where I came from.

  My eyes flip open, and I suck in a staggering breath of air, sitting straight up.