by Kirah Nyx
“On the contrary,” he drawled aristocratically, “my spirit magic is of the same variety as yours; mind control. And I’m very accomplished.”
“Why would you want to help me?”
“A favour to a friend,” he said tediously.
Ivy considered him for a moment, suspecting that he had other motivations. Samael didn’t give favours, not even to Felix, his closest friend. Samael only helped others if he was to gain from the ‘favour’.
“Are you just going to stare at me, or are we going to begin?” Samael droned, and stepped toward her slowly. His cold white eyes raked over her discoloured face. “You should feed. It may give you enough strength to focus.”
“I can’t,” she replied bitterly. “Coach Aldon put me on a—”
“Blood ban,” he finished. “I suppose it can trigger desperation through your hunger and amplified emotions.”
“Here’s hoping,” she mumbled, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. It was quite uncomfortable for her to be alone in the woods with Samael Valac.
“How have you been faring class?”
Ivy chewed her lip and shrugged. “Not good enough, apparently.”
Humming disapprovingly, he turned on his heels and strode through the clearing.
Nervously, Ivy swerved her alert eyes around her before she dismissed her instincts and followed him into the denser parts of the forest.
They walked in silence for what felt like an hour, but was probably more in the range of a few minutes. The only noises that accompanied them into the thicker forestry were the rustles of the branches and leaves they stepped on, the faint laughter from the nearby Fae grottos, and the eerie cackles from the mischievous Vampires.
“Where are we going?” she asked after a while of silence. Ivy didn’t know whether she asked out of genuine curiosity, or a desperate attempt to shatter the awkward silence.
“You will find out in a moment,” came his ambiguous response, which only increased her anxiety.
The pair continued to trek through the woods for a while, and soon the sounds of the Fae and Vampires were no longer heard. They were far out into the woods, she realised. In fact, she suspected that they were reaching the border, which they weren’t allowed to breach.
“We’re going too far,” she nervously said, whilst keeping a safe distance behind him. Just as he suddenly halted, Ivy leapt over a fallen tree. She almost landed on his heels of costly Pegasi-leather shoes.
Slowly, he turned to face her; their bodies were much too close for her liking. She took a step back.
“We’re here,” he said coolly, staring down at her with complete indifference. “Can you hear it?”
Ivy exhaled heavily before she closed her eyes and listened to the song of nature. It wasn’t until that moment that she realised Samael’s company, while unwanted, had been distracting her from her hunger.
A gentle whimper whispered through the still air. Her heart instinctively clenched.
“What was that? Was that a dog?”
“A grey wolf pup.” His hand flicked lazily, gesturing to a particularly old log with a few rotten crevices. “In there.”
Casting a side-glance at Samael, Ivy tried to read his stoic expression for any indication as to what he was up to. She saw nothing, other than his usual indifference.
Sighing loudly, she trudged through the autumn leaves, broken branches, and tangles of weeds to the tree trunk. When she reached it, she tentatively dove her hands into the crevice and clutched onto a ball of fur. Gently, she removed the whimpering animal and held it up to examine it.
A tiny grey wolf dangled limply in her gentle hold. Its damp mouth was parted, and its long tongue twitched as it panted. Frankly, it was absolutely adorable. And afraid. It sensed her predatory nature.
Zero signs of appreciation for the cutest ball of fluff in the world showed on Samael’s eternally stony face.
Ivy cocked her head to the side and watched it squirm in her hands. Pity overwhelmed her and clenched her gut in a merciless grasp. She hushed it gently, and made a few cooing sounds.
The pup whined before it licked her nose, testing the boundaries. She nuzzled her nose against its black damp one to demonstrate the lack of threat she posed to it.
“Communicate with it,” ordered Samael.
“How?” she asked. The pup began to lick freely at her ticklish nose.
“However you must,” he replied. “It matters naught to me. But if you don’t speak to it, I will.”
It took a few moments for his meaning to sink in. Samael’s mind control powers only worked on the dead after he killed then resurrected them.
Surely he wouldn’t …
Ivy gasped in horror, and pulled the pup against her bosom in a protective gesture. “Are you insane, Samael? You want to kill it?”
“He is destined to die regardless,” he said nonchalantly. “It’s a runt, abandoned by its mother, and left to die.”
“Yeah?” she challenged. “Then how did you know it—” She paused to peer between its hind legs. “—He was here?”
“I could feel it,” he said, his white eyes darkening somewhat. “I could feel its fate drawing me in. I only sense those facing death, not the healthy or those already dead. Those close to death are the ones of use to me.”
“Oh, so you’re the Reaper, now, are you? Well you’re not collecting this little fella for your zombie collection. I’m keeping him.”
Samael all but growled and advanced slowly, “Do you want to be like that thing in your arms? Are you happy being a runt?” He spat the vile word with pure venom. “I truly wish to know, because I see no effort on your part to change it. You’re unwilling to practice to the best of your abilities, and you seem to have simply accepted your fate, instead of challenging it.”
Ivy barked a shrill, bitter laugh. “D’you know what, Samael? Someone taught me that I’m so much more than my abilities and how others will view me. I don’t care if I fail my exams, because I’ll still be me. If people don’t want to be around me after that, then at least I’ll know who is worthy of my friendship. If the people I have grown up with hate me, and the society I was raised in rejects me, then so be it. I’ll practice and I’ll try until I take that test, but never will I risk the life of an innocent creature to do it. That’s you, Samael, not me. That’s what makes me good and you bad.”
Clutching the wolf pup against her chest, Ivy raised her nose in the air and challengingly met his cold stare.
“You have followers, Samael, not friends. People don’t like you, they’re afraid of you. You’re the last person on this planet I’d take advice from.”
She awaited the inevitable retaliation for her defiance and blatant disregard of his royal status. But, it didn’t come. Samael’s molten eyes pierced hers, but he remained where he stood and didn’t retort. After an anxiety-filled eternity, Ivy released a breath she didn’t realise she was holding, because Samael retreated. He simply turned, strode back into the dense forest, and left her there alone with the pup. She couldn’t believe her luck.
Ivy stared at the trees he disappeared through for a moment. Once she realised he wasn’t going to return, she plopped down onto the leafy ground and placed the wolf pup on her lap. There, she practiced like she had promised herself and Coach Aldon.
There, she focused all her energy on entering the mind of the pup. There, she sat for hours, trying, concentrating, practicing and focusing, until she was left with no energy and a numb bum. It wasn’t until the sleeping wolf puppy began to smell scrumptious that she decided to call it a night. Luckily for the pup, she hadn’t blown it up yet.
Climbing to her feet, Ivy continued to cradle the small animal in her arms. As she trudged further into the forest toward the school, Ivy took comfort in the faint sounds of the Fae.
It meant that she was nearing the Academy. Between the thick tree trunks and shrubs, she wound and weaved. She jumped over broken branches and side-stepped burrows.
Ivy froze
. A rustle came from ahead. Cautiously, she scanned the area for the source. The rustle continued. Her gaze locked on a rose bush, filled with thorns and live vines that tangled around the branches. The hedge came up to her collarbone in height, and was wider than her dorm room. It was packed between lines of thick and tall trees; she couldn’t simply peek over the side to see what was behind it.
Again, it rustled and she kept her wary gaze on the bush. It was likely a fellow student or a Banshee, but a twinge of anxiety stirred in her belly. A gasp slipped through her throat as the bush trembled and quivered once more, but much more violently. Every branch, leaf and flower rattled vigorously before it stopped without warning.
Slowly, Ivy approached the bush. She shifted the weight of the pup to her left arm. With her free hand, she hesitantly reached out to the crisp leaves of the shrub.
Shaky fingers gripped and peeled the leaves to the side. She dug her hand in deeper to reach all the way through and, again, parted the shrubbery to the side.
Nothing was there. No rabbits, hiding Fae, cackling Vampires, or weeping Banshees. Only grass and scattered flowers.
Bowing her head, Ivy scoffed at her own silliness. She flicked her hair to the side and sprung effortlessly over the bush, But, before she could make her way back to the Academy, before she could take her first step, she saw it. Her blood ran cold the moment her gaze rested on it, tendrils of dread coiled around her body, restricting her.
It was a paw print. Not the kind a bear would leave, or even a grey wolf. It was a huge, deep paw print, heavy enough to snap all twigs in the imprint, and almost the size of her head.
She couldn’t think of a single beast in the Blood Forest — or world — that could make a paw print that large. Ivy had been hunting since she was a toddler. She knew tracks better than she knew fashion.
Slowly, Ivy crouched down to inspect the dent in the earth. Cradling the pup in one hand, she used the other to brush away snapped twigs and crumpled leaves. It was a perfect image of what she had feared.
There was only one type of creature that could leave a paw print like that.
But, they were extinct, and had been for centuries.
Unless …
Ivy shakily whispered, “Shifter.”
10
The dormitory room was quiet, except for the crackles, pops, and hisses that came from the simmering fireplace. Vampires could withstand the cold, but they did prefer the warmth of a fire. Addie slept peacefully in the bed closest to the fireplace, but Penny’s bed was empty. The dormitory could have been considered calm and peaceful until a frantic Ivy came bursting through the door.
“Addie!” she shrilled, and raced over to the four-poster bed. “Addie, wake up! Wake up, I have to show you something!”
Addie pulled the blankets over her head and ignored her. But she couldn’t ignore the sudden stench of dog in the dorm. The potent pong invaded her senses and polluted the air that had once only smelled of blood, burning wood, and coconut candles.
“Addie, get up!” Ivy shrilled as she jumped onto the mattress and proceeded to violently shake her friend. “Get up, get up, get up!”
Hissing threateningly, Addie kept an iron-grip on the sheets covering her. But, the sheets were torn from her body before Addie was violently shaken by a pair of cold hands.
Addie smacked the feathery pillow her head rested on and huffily pushed herself into a sitting position. She glowered dangerously and snarled, “What?!”
“I found something,” she said in a hushed, panicked tone. “You need to come with me.”
Addie threw her head back and inhaled deeply in a bid for patience. Her fangs were extended and her white eyes gleamed with indignation. Reluctantly, she spat, “Fine,” before she moodily climbed out of the bed. Ivy watched as she aggressively pulled on a lumpy sweater and slipped on a pair of yeti-hair slippers. All the while the wolf pup had made himself comfortable on the bottom of Addie’s bed, and had drifted off into a content slumber.
“What is that?” Addie spat, and pointed her finger accusingly at the pup. “Did you bring a wolf here?”
Ivy smiled dryly. “Of course not. That’s a goblin.”
Giving Ivy a stern look, Addie showed no sign of amusement on her stony features. “Why is there a wolf on my bed, Ivy?”
Ivy rolled her eyes and slipped off the bed. “Because I put him there, obviously. Calm down and hurry up.”
“I will calm down once you explain to me why you have woken me up and forced me out of bed at this hour,” snapped Addie. She crossed her arms over her chest and seemed to be on the verge of biting Ivy.
“I’ll show you,” replied Ivy grimly.
She ushered Addie out of the dorm and through the Vampire den hurriedly. As she went, she constantly glanced around her as though afraid of what she might see. Addie went quietly through the Academy and followed Ivy’s lead, but her tense silence remained for the whole journey. She didn’t speak until they reached the Blood Forest.
“Where are we going?”
Ivy ignored her question and tromped ahead into the woods. As it was after three in the morning, even the Fae and Vampires had retired for the night. There cackles and laughter couldn’t be heard slithering through the forest, but only the heavy crunching sounds of Addie and Ivy’s steady footsteps.
They didn’t go too far into the forest before Ivy came to a stop, a few metres away from a rosebush at the visible roots of an aged tree. Addie frequented the forest to enjoy hunting for her meals at times, so she knew her surroundings enough to realise that they were close to the Fae grottos.
Still, Ivy’s state of unease didn’t help her feel relaxed or comfortable in the forest that night.
Ivy pointed at the rosebush ahead and whispered, “Over there.”
Pursing her lips nervously, Addie tentatively approached the rosebush. As she neared, her wary gaze darted from rose to rose and leaf to leaf, almost as if she expected a Kraken to jump out and scare the death out of her. As Addie inspected the shrubbery, Ivy came up behind her and waited for her to gasp in shock. After a while of un-shocked silence from Addie, Ivy grew impatient. “Do you see it?” she asked shakily. “On the dirt, do you see it?”
Addie brushed a few dead leaves off the earth beneath the rosebush before she sighed tediously. “There’s nothing to see, Ivy.”
“Yes there is,” she insisted. “Look at the ground—the dirt. It’s right there.”
Addie mumbled under her breath, something Latin, something to do with sleep and ‘too early for this nonsense’. She raised her voice and clearly said, “There’s nothing here.” Addie looked over her shoulder at her, and Ivy shook her head disbelievingly.
“No, it’s there, you’re just not looking,” said Ivy. She dropped to her knees beside Addie and scanned the area for the paw print she had seen earlier. The muddy patch she had once seen the paw print in was entirely clear of all markings. It was completely flat and smooth.
A little too smooth, as though someone had levelled it out with their hands. “It was right here—Right here.” She smacked the groomed soil to emphasise her point.
Addie regarded her friend curiously for a moment; Ivy frantically looked around the ground in confusion and swatted twigs out of the way frequently. Nothing marked the earthy ground, other than dead leaves, wilted petals, broken twigs, and an even patch of mud.
“I swear I’m not lying,” she said. “I know what I saw.”
“What were you doing out here, Ivy?” asked Addie gently.
“I was practising my spirit magic,” she replied, and frowned at the terrain.
“Look,” sighed Addie, and she placed her hand on Ivy’s arm. “I’m saying this as your friend, Ivy. I think you should feed. I know what Coach Aldon said, but this isn’t working for you. We both know that hallucinations can happen when a Vampire enters the bloodlust faze of starvation.”
“I didn’t hallucinate.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Ivy. You were out here for howeve
r long, exerting yourself to train, and you’re operating on next to no blood. You’ve been on a blood ban for three months now. Your skin is turning grey, your irises are pure white, you have black circles beneath your eyes!”
Addie threw up her hands in exasperation.
“Ivy,” she added,” you’re entering bloodlust. Hallucinations are a symptom. I think you should speak to Coach Aldon about this.”
“I know what I saw, Addie!” Ivy snapped, and jumped to her feet as Addie slowly stood. “This has nothing to do with bloodlust. I touched it.”
“Touched what? You still haven’t told me what you think you saw. We’re all that’s out here!”
“I saw a paw print,” she said. “I saw a Shifter paw print.”
Addie groaned loudly and rubbed her hands over her tired face. Sighing, she dropped her hands to her sides and met Ivy’s steady gaze. “A Shifter paw print? That’s what you saw?”
“Obviously not a real one,” she snapped. “A Shifter one.”
“Do you even know what that looks like? Have you ever seen one before?”
“Well … no,” she admitted feebly. “But it was there and—”
“Even if you did see a paw print,” Addie interrupted, “it was probably one from a grey wolf, or a bear. It’s not here now. Maybe you should feed tonight and explain to Coach Aldon what you’ve been seeing. I don’t think associating with that Videer is helping anything, Ivy.”
“He hasn’t got anything to do with this,” spat Ivy, clearly bristled by the mention of Domenic.
Addie explained in much gentler tone, “I only mean to say that spending your time with a walking blood bag is too much temptation for you. It can’t be helping your hunger. I don’t know what you and that Videer talk about, but I’m willing to bet it’s got something to do with Shifters. And with what has been in the news lately, it’s no mystery as to why you are hyped up about it.”
“I thought you of all people would believe me,” she replied dejectedly. “You know what I dreamt. Then, the same wolf is mentioned in the Chronicle. You were at the markets with me, too, that day. None of this is a coincidence, Addie. You should know that, you’re the smart one.”