by Viola Grace
Imara blinked. “They are the spectres of Demiel Hall. They have been here the entire time.”
He paused, and Edmund shifted eagerly behind him.
Lord Demiel stood between them. Imara glanced over her shoulder and nearly choked. The portrait of Lord Demiel was right behind him.
“Tell me something that only my ancestor would know.”
Lord Demiel looked offended, but he leaned forward and whispered in Desmond’s ear. Whatever he said made Desmond stand upright immediately.
“I... I thought you spectres too weak to speak.”
“We were. This Death Keeper of Demiel blood offered us her energy, and now, we can interact with the world again. Well, we can interact with the world within these walls. She is exceptionally powerful. You should be proud as it is your blood in her veins. She is clever.”
Desmond turned to Imara. “You may leave now.”
She nodded and turned to the spectres. “I offer you a physical presence for a month or two.”
Lady Demiel smiled. “We will take it.”
“The house is yours.” Imara smiled at the few friendly siblings she had, and she left the same way she had come while the spectres exclaimed at their physical presence. That was going to mess with her father and his bride for a while.
The power sparked as she left, and she grinned. The building was being warded against her. They needed her physical presence to drop a barrier against her. She had had to be invited in, so she could be locked out.
She patted each of the trolls on the hand as she left, and Mr. E started to purr the instant her feet stepped on the walkway.
She fished out her phone and dialled Kitty. “Hello, Kitty. I am done here.”
“Great. I will be there in a minute.”
“I am walking toward the donut shop, so don’t rush. I think I need time to clear my head.”
“Excellent. I am still getting into my car.” Kitty chuckled.
“See ya soon.”
The call ended, and Imara kept walking until she was off the grounds and onto the road.
You handled that well.
She chuckled. “We know why I was invited, so it is nice to have that confirmation. They think they have what they need, so they booted me out. It rings a bell.”
You didn’t remember the first time.
“Ah, you know that I got to read it out in black and white. Mom wasn’t even allowed to keep me because of that contract.”
And that was in the past, and you are now an adult with a cooler head for your situation. You still have luck, friends, and a mom who is just getting to know you.
She grinned and kept walking. “I know. I am not bitter. I am feeling better now that I am away from them. That is one toxic atmosphere. At least Michael and Hannah seem pretty normal, and Rosie is a cutie.”
She is very cute. If you see her when she is older, I sense tail pulling in my future.
Imara giggled until Kitty pulled up next to her and rolled down the window. “Hey, little lady, going my way?”
“Kitty, I am going to give you such a butt kicking.” She walked around and got in on the passenger side.
When she was buckled up and Mr. E was on the dashboard, she sat back and sighed. “Home, Jeeves.”
“Yes, madam.” Kitty put the vehicle in drive, and the trip home began.
Imara could hardly wait to see what had happened at Reegar Hall while she had been gone.
Chapter Eleven
Imara got out of the car with a groan, and Mr. E perched on her shoulder. Kitty grabbed her books and headed off to finish her homework elsewhere.
When Imara came through the doors, she paused and blinked. “Wow, this is a little more active than I thought it would be.”
Edgar Demiel was tied up on the floor and gagged. Bara was baking cookies, and Reegar was going through a pile of books that had been spilled to the floor.
The security officers were taking a statement from Bara while she baked to calm down.
Imara checked her watch, and she nodded. A quick photo and an email later and she introduced herself to the security officers.
Reegar growled, “Get him out of here.”
Imara nodded. “Good evening, officers. I see there has been an intrusion.”
Bara sniffled. “It was horrible, Imara. I heard a noise upstairs, and that guy was there, tangled in my loom. He ruined three weeks of weaving! I am never going to get my ninety-five percent in that class now.”
Imara kept her face concerned. Bara’s drama courses were paying off.
The security officers kept making notes. One asked, “Who are you, miss?”
“I am Imara Mirrin.”
“Do you know who this man is?”
She looked at Edgar and bit her lip. “I think he is in one of my classes. I haven’t been formally introduced, but I am pretty sure we are related.”
The officers looked confused by that. “What is his name?”
“His last name is Demiel.”
Both officers lowered their notepads. She gave them a bland look. “And I am Imara Mirrin Deepford-Smythe Demiel. He broke into my house, and I don’t know what he wanted. I will assist Mage Reegar with pressing charges for any broken materials, and compensation should be issued to Bara for the destruction of her weaving project. It does look good on him, doesn’t it?”
Edgar was flushed and furious, writhing from side to side.
The notebooks came back up. “What did he try and take?”
Reegar scowled. “He was rifling through my books.”
One of the officers thought to ask, “What class were you in with him?”
“Stealth Magic. Don’t worry; his deadline was forty-five minutes ago.” She smiled and inclined her head.
The officers had tensed, and then, they smiled at each other with a smug air.
Imara knew that Edgar was going to fail the course, but she also knew he would get off without any consequences. Her checks on Demiel history showed that they were primarily bullies who liked to throw money around.
Just as they were hauling Edgar to his feet, with the gag still in place, the door opened, and Hyl arrived. He smiled at Imara and paused to stare at her brother. “What is this?”
Bara sobbed and set the cookie batter down with a thud. “HebrokeinandwreckedmyprojectandtoreitupandthrewbooksaroundandnowtheyaregoingtolethimgobecauseheisaDemiel.”
Hyl grabbed Edgar by the shoulder, his Mage Guild uniform neat and tidy, and his eyes twinkling. “Did he use magic to break in?”
Reegar nodded. “He did. He used a spell to break through the glass, but he still managed to do a lot of manual damage.”
“Using magic during the commission of a crime is a serious offense.”
He pulled the gag from Edgar’s mouth. “Did you use magic in the commission of a crime?”
“It was my assignment. I had to!” Edgar was nearly foaming with fury. “She has a stone stolen from my house! Check her!”
Mr. E jumped down, so Imara could remove her robes and hand them to Hyl. There was no way that anything could have been hidden in her gown. She undid her belt and handed it to him.
He checked everything, handed it to the security officers to check, and he looked to Edgar. “So, that is one lie.”
“It was her assignment! She had to! Ask her! She was at Demiel Hall tonight. She had to have stolen it, or she is going to fail.”
Hyl raised his brows at Imara. “Were you at the hall tonight?”
“I was. I was surrounded at all times and left promptly at midnight when requested. It was a little cold blooded of them actually.”
He nodded. “You have completed your courses?”
“I have. I have emails, a voicemail, and a photo indicating that my course is complete and was complete before this evening.”
Hyl grinned. “Excellent. Well, I will take this young mage and have him up on charges of magic outside of scholastic purpose.�
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Edgar’s eyes were wild. “It was an assignment.”
Hyl looked at him blandly. “It was stealth magic. What sounds stealthy to you about your actions this evening?”
Imara watched as her tutor left her hall with the officers trying to figure out how to get on the guild’s good side.
Bara started to scoop out the cookies, and she grinned over at Imara. “How was your family?”
“Half nice, half horrible. What kind of cookies?”
“Chocolate and peanut butter. I kept some of the dough without chocolate for Mr. E. He looks like he has been hard at work keeping you calm.”
Mr. E jumped on the table and perched up like a prairie dog. Bara made tiny balls of dough for him and set it out on a plate.
Reegar sighed. “You were right; he is after the demon codex.”
Mr. E paused and looked over at Reegar.
Imara moved forward and petted her familiar. “It is a book belonging to Reegar. Part of his collection, but I am fairly sure that Edgar would not bring it back after stealing it. That book in the hands of the Demiels is a nightmare.”
He calmed and continued consuming his treat.
A call brought Kitty over for a post-mortem of the evening and some cookies.
They all sat around the table while Reegar continued to work on the dents and dings his books had taken.
Kitty munched a cookie and smiled. “So. What is your general impression of your family?”
“They are half good, half bad, and not to be trusted. I think I will stick with my mom’s side. Her folk are broke, but they have character.” She looked at Bara. “I mean, aside from Luken. He’s great.”
Bara raised her cup of hot cocoa in a toast. “To Luken!”
Kitty and Imara followed suit. “To Luken.”
They all sipped hot cocoa and sat back at two in the morning.
“When do you go to your final class?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
Bara frowned. “You need to get some rest. You have had a stressful couple of days.”
“Yes, ma’am. See you in the morning.”
Mr. E ran ahead of her, up the stairs and into her room. Her wards were still in place against members of her own bloodline, and she dropped to her bed, trying to ignore all of the insults she had absorbed that night.
Don’t worry. You are still beloved by your family. Your true family and that gathering is expanding daily.
Thanks, little dude. Sorry you are saddled with me when I am all weepy.
I have had worse mages to deal with. I am truly enjoying myself for the first time in centuries. Keep doing what you are doing and get some sleep.
Imara did as she was told.
The tiny class was a sullen and sombre place. Professor McClairie looked them over. “I told you when this term began that stealth magic is a difficult skill to learn. It is nearly impossible to get the skills together in one short term. Out of the ten of you, only one student managed to exhibit the skills and technique necessary for a passing grade.”
Imara was shocked.
“This is not an unusual occurrence, but it was surprising that the student I thought least likely to succeed found the most success. And the object that was drawn was removed, presented and then returned. Unlike most of you, this student took the day of the event literally. The assignment was completed before dawn.”
Her classmates were looking like they had been struck with hammers. One asked, “You can do that?”
The professor nodded. “The day begins one minute after midnight.”
The professor had folders in his hand, and he went through the students and handed them out. Imara read her name, opened the folder, and her shoulders slumped in relief at the passing grade. Over ninety percent was nothing to sneer at.
Edgar was sitting at the far end of the room, and he got to his feet, stalking toward her. Mr. E hopped off her shoulder and landed on the folder.
He was nearly in front of her when the professor stepped in front of him. “You didn’t manage it, Edgar. Get over it. Enroll again next term, and if you display any emotional development, I will consider it. Right now, you are a pathetic rich brat.”
Edgar snarled and pulled his fist back. Imara blinked, she hadn’t thought that he was the bully in the family, but it seemed that the twins were both assholes.
The professor caught the fist, and he clenched his fingers. Edgar grunted and then began to whine as he was forced to his knees.
“I didn’t care for Desmond when he tried and failed this course, and I don’t care for you. I know you only took this course to attack your sister here, but it is a shortsighted plan. Get your own path in life. Following orders puts you in unpleasant situations and deprives you of self-sufficiency.”
Imara gathered her things and tried to leave, but they were blocking her exit.
Edgar looked over at her with anger in his expression. “She ruined everything.”
Imara piped up, “If you are referring to your mother, our mother, she was going to leave the moment that she fulfilled the contract. Desmond is an ass.”
“You grew up with her!”
She rolled her eyes. “Not this again. I grew up in a group home. I just met my mother, our mother, after I arrived here at college. The contract didn’t let her keep me. Read it if you don’t believe it. No issue of the Demiel line was to remain in her custody. So, she stuck me in a series of orphanages and homes run by her extended family. I grew up knowing that I was alone and that I was not allowed to be with my family. I tried to go and meet you all on your terms, and you tried to break into my fucking home while I was with your twin. He doesn’t know how you cock your head when you are getting mad, by the way. He can’t fake being you.”
He scowled. “I don’t believe you.”
“Ask her. She will take a call from you. Read the contract. It is available online at the mage contract archive.”
Edgar blinked, and she saw the abandoned toddler in his expression. He would have been two when Mirrin left.
“Or don’t. Just don’t consider me a threat. I won’t consider you at all.” She climbed on a desk and slithered behind her brother and the professor. She was out the door with her familiar and on her way home in seconds.
She slapped the folder on the table, and Reegar came by to take a look. “Excellent. That is one of the highest scores I have seen.”
“You have seen others?”
“Of course. Stealth magic is a hard skill to learn, but a few have an actual knack for it. The hardest part is the professor keeping track of all the temporal trackers that he has out. McClairie is a master at temporal magic.”
“Wait, there was a tracker on me?”
“Yes, it is in the notecard he gave that outlined your assignment. It tracked your every move, marked the acquisition of the artifact and, also, marked its return.”
She stared at him. “You knew?”
“Yes. I thought it would make you nervous to know about it. It doesn’t matter anyway. It is a standard tracking spell.”
Imara sighed and looked at her marks, the credits and knew that there was only one class that would give her the credits she needed to finish quickly.
“What are you thinking?”
“My next course. There is only one thing it can be, but it is going to be really dangerous.”
I can handle it. I mastered welding after all.
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Spell Crafting 501. I have managed soul casting, shape shifting, sky breaking and now stealth magic, along with business and ethics courses. So, if I can get spell crafting under my belt, I will be able to get a broad-spectrum magic license. I will have way more skills than I need, but I will qualify for an immediate license. It is that, or they have to kill me.”
Reegar grinned. “You have a fascinating career path in mind.”
“Yeah. I know. But it just feels right. When it feels right, it feels right.”<
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“What will you do for staff?”
She grinned. “I think that I will pick people with skills I can use, but any of my friends are welcome for work experience when they graduate.”
Imara sat back and looked at Reegar. There was no one better to ask. “So, what do I need to know about writing spells?”
Reegar beckoned, and a stack of books began to pile up on the table. More and more came in a huge cascade. “Start here.”
She blinked. “Do I have to lift them? I can do that now.”
He laughed, and she smiled as she prepared to take on the skills that would set her free to live her own life for the first time.
Don’t be scared of the future. I will be with you every step of the way.
Imara laughed. “Riding on my shoulder and eating my snacks.”
That is what a familiar is for.
Grinning, she pulled the first tome in front of her and started to read while her other hand finished the registration for the next term. It took three hours for the confirmation to come back, but her path was set. She was going to learn how to craft a spell.
It had better be a good one.
Author’s Note
And so ends the fourth book of the Hellkitten Chronicles. Only one left to go.
After book five, Spell Crafting 501, the Hellkitten Chronicles will be over, but Imara and Mr. E will become secondary characters with a lot of back-story in Hellhound in a Handbag, as well as Perpetual Prey. I am working on Imara to get her own HellCat Chronicle, where all of her weird skills can come out and play.
Thanks for reading,
Viola Grace
About the Author
Viola Grace (aka Zenina Masters) is a Canadian sci-fi/paranormal romance writer with ambitions to keep writing for the rest of her life. She specializes in short stories because the thrill of discovery, of all those firsts, is what keeps her writing.
An artist who enjoys a story that catches you up, whirls you around and sets you down with a smile on your face is all she endeavours to be. She prefers to leave the drama to those who are better suited to it, she always goes for the cheap laugh.