The Roses Academy- the Entire Collection

by Tara Brown

  Sam shrugged. “They wouldn’t give us the spell otherwise.”

  Oliver raised an eyebrow. “That would be why I said wait till I could take you.”

  “What is going on? Why is he not chained up?”

  Oliver scoffed at Aimee's confused face. “You don’t really believe those stupid chains would hold me, do you? I came here to help and that’s what I'm trying to do. If you can stay alive long enough for me to be of some help.” Oliver stormed off into the mansion.

  Aimee watched him walk past. “He let us think that would hold him. Where have you two been?”

  Sam turned to Hanna. “Trying to fix my little problem.”

  I felt defeated. “We never found out the end of the spell, Sam. I can't do it.”

  Sam replied quickly, “We scry.” He continued to hold my hand and dragged me down the hallway. If I didn’t know any better, he was feeling something. He seemed annoyed or defeated.

  He pulled me into my room and started lighting candles. I dug out the purple bag where I kept the scrying plate. The bag that held it had to be purple for protection. I thought maybe white, but Annabelle laughed at me and handed me the purple one, after she had taught me how to use it better. Our lessons were intense and frequent.

  I placed it on the table next to the chairs by the fireplace. Sam closed the curtains and flashed in front of me with a glass of water. I poured the water and knelt before the plate. I let my mind clear.

  When my mind was blank, I thought about my question and the bottom fell away from the scrying plate. The water started to churn. The waves grew and lapped over the edges of the plate, spilling onto the wooden table. A mist covered the plate as if hiding the answers from me. I blew the mist aside to reveal a crystal-clear picture.

  Three women sat in a small clearing. They gazed up at a full moon. One woman pulled a small blade from a sheet she had wrapped tools in. She dragged the knife across each of the other people's hands and poured the blood into a goblet. She poured red wine into the goblet and cut her own hand. She squeezed her hand over the goblet and then rubbed the bloody hands against each other and squeezed. Blood droplets fell onto a red pillow.

  They each took a turn drinking from the glass. The flames of the candle rose with every sip from the goblet of blood and wine. The woman with the knife placed it on the red pillow and wrapped it up again. She gathered up the package and sauntered away from the two women sitting in the clearing.

  The picture turned dark and fuzzy for a moment. Then it showed the woman holding the wrapped sheet with the pillow and the knife. She was in a dark cloak with her head down. She walked with purpose while trying to remain hidden. She looked around as she paced to a window of a house on the side of a street. In the window, a young man and woman were kissing and holding a baby.

  She watched them for a moment and then took the sheet to the front door of the house. She knocked at the door and placed the sheet on the ground. She ran and hid in the shadows. The man came to the door and opened it. His eyes scanned the yard and he picked up the sheet. He unwrapped it to find the knife and the pillow. Suddenly, he appeared lost like the spell had sucked his thoughts from him. He never even glanced back at the door as he closed it. He walked away from the house, carrying the pillow and the knife. He left his wife and his baby. I knew that was what was happening. The water went choppy again.

  “We have to sacrifice a happy love to save yours.”

  “What?”

  “The secret is that we have to take the things we use for the spell and leave them for an innocent couple to find and ruin their love.”

  Sam slumped into the chair next to me. “That’s bleak. Whose lives do we choose?”

  “No clue.”

  “You know you will love me though, right?” I said it quietly.

  He nodded. “I'd rather love you, even if you don’t feel the same, than be this. I feel nothing beyond a bit of confusion or frustration at times.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it spiky. I could think of far worse fates than Sam being madly in love with me forever.

  “When is the full moon?”

  “Tonight.”

  I groaned, “Of course it is.”

  “What do we need?”

  “The knife, goblet, sheet, red pillow, me, you, and Hanna.”

  Sam offered, “I'll get everything. Meet you back here?”

  “No. At the big rock garden.”

  He was gone before he could answer. I felt empty. I wasn’t sure why.

  Chapter 23

  Bosom buddies

  Sam

  “I need you.”

  Hanna glanced up at him. She half smiled for a second but then stopped herself as she rose from the chair fluidly. “For what?”

  “How much do you love me? Like for real love?” I didn’t say it with conviction. I didn’t have any.

  “More than anything.”

  “Would you sacrifice our love to fix me? It's part of the solution.”

  She paused before nodding. “I would.”

  I put my hand out for her to take. She took it and instantly we were in the rock garden outside.

  “Hey.” I pulled Hanna along to where Ophelia sat with a blanket.

  “Hey.” Her eyes landed on our hands. I dropped Hanna's hand and sat down.

  Hanna plopped down onto the blanket and gave us a blank stare. “What's the plan?”

  O swallowed hard. “I am going to take the bond from you both; you have to give it to me willingly.”

  Hanna frowned. “What will you do with it?”

  “Repair it.” O’s voice was a squeak.

  “Then?” Hanna narrowed her gaze.

  “Then I keep it. Sam will be matched to me. Only one-sided, but at least he will have all his emotions back.”

  Hanna sighed. “Will he ever get over you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Hanna turned to me and nodded back a tear. “Let’s do it.”

  I knew all of it was far more than she deserved to suffer. She hadn’t done anything this wrong. The image of the man groping her still bothered me, but it didn’t seem like the big deal I’d made it. Her words burned inside me, but they weren’t the be-all end-all of the world. I wished I could take everything back.

  O lit the candles and pulled out the red pillow, goblet, and knife. She acted focused as she took my hand and dragged the knife across it. It stung slightly.

  She did the same to Hanna who made a brave face. She squeezed Hanna's hand over the goblet and then mine. Then she poured wine in and cut her own hand. She rubbed our palms together and let the mixed blood drip onto the red pillow. We each took a turn drinking the bloody wine.

  Dark shadows from the moon’s light crept along the ground like snakes.

  “O, what’s that?” I whispered.

  “Bad magic.” She flinched as they swirled their way up her legs. Her lower lip trembled as they crawled up her stomach and vanished. She gasped and jerked her head violently.

  When she opened her eyes, they were solid black, but stars sparkled from them. A calm smile crept across her face. It was disturbing.

  She picked up the knife and the red pillow and bound them up in a package and left us there.

  Hanna stared at the wine glass.

  “I want to say how sorry I am. Now that the anger is gone, I really think I overreacted, Hanna.”

  “Don’t say that. Please don’t make this be for nothing, Sam. My heart is broken and I don’t know how to fix it.”

  “I know. I think you should ask Roland; he knows stuff.”

  She got up from the blanket and walked away.

  Suddenly I felt sick. I couldn’t fight the nausea and I couldn’t flash.

  I stumbled away from the blanket and had made it inside the house when everything went dark.

  I woke to Aimee next to me, stroking my face.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I found you. I get to keep you.” She winked.

  I laughed and then winced. �
��I'm in agony again. I'm thinking I might have messed it up.”

  “Stop being a baby. At least you can feel the pain.”

  “Hey, you’re right. I can feel something else.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened.

  I sneered. “I'm annoyed with you right now.”

  Aimee giggled. “Yay. Can we go back to being the friends where you sympathize with me and my sadness over breakups? I kind of missed you being sarcastic or having a heart.”

  “Sweet friggin’ God, Aimes, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  “Yay!” She squealed and hugged me. “You are back.”

  I laughed and sensed joy for the first time in what felt like ages. I thought about Hanna, but nothing but wounded pride and a slight amount of anger floated around. I contemplated Ophelia but there was nothing. I grinned at Aimee. “I'm free. I feel like I've fought a battle and haven’t slept in ages.”

  “Sleep now. I won’t leave you. Just in case the horrid, heartless other you comes back and tries to take over.”

  “Whatever.” I chuckled and rolled onto my side, trying not to wince in pain. “You kick his ass if he comes back, Aimes. Kick it hard.”

  “Sam, no one knows what it's like to sink into a pit of despair like I do. You've got to have someone there to pull you out.”

  I knew she meant Aleks.

  I passed out hard and fast and woke feeling groggy. The pains that had burned through me were gone. I scanned the room for Aimee, but I was alone. I got up and stretched, sensing a hunger I hadn’t known in ages. My need was strong. I could feel it on myself. I pulled on some jeans and a tee shirt and stumbled out to find food.

  A blur shot past me in the hall, and suddenly my back was slammed into the plaster of the wall. A warm mouth pressed against my neck. Savagely, a dark head of hair nuzzled into me. I tried to pull back but she slammed me into the wall again. Her warm lips caressed my throat. I shoved hard and flashed to the end of the hall.

  Blood trickled down my throat.

  Giselle licked her lips. She had gone into the frenzy. Her dark soulless eyes were noticeable from where I stood. I put a hand out. “Giselle, calm down.”

  “Come here, Sam.”

  I flashed to the kitchen where Aimee sat staring out the window. “Hey, look who's awake. How are you feeling?” She scowled at the dark blood running down my neck.

  “Giselle,” I groaned.

  “Did she just blood rape you?”

  “Yes.” I wiped the blood.

  Aimee sniffed the air around us. “That is pretty unbearable, Sam. What is that?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Doesn’t smell like nothing.” She got up from her seat, grinning.

  “Aimes, for Christ’s sake, not now.” I took a step back.

  “I want it now.” She leapt and I flashed.

  I flashed to Lydia's. She was stirring a cup of tea in the kitchen and wrinkled her nose at me as I landed. “Oh, Sam. Come on. Take care of that.”

  “I can't.”

  “Wait, if you're emitting that, then you must feel again?” Her eyes widened.

  “Yeah.”

  Her face dropped. “Did you go find the dark witches?”

  My eyes darted to the table as I lowered my head in shame. I had no idea whose marriage O had ruined to save me, but it sickened me to think about it.

  “Sam.”

  “Went to Lillian. They gave us the spell.” I winced.

  She dropped the cup of tea. “Sam, what have you done?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Who did she push the heartbreak on?”

  “I don’t know. She just took it and left.” I couldn’t meet her gaze.

  She put her hands over her face. “Oh, honey. What have you done? Your feelings for Ophelia will be so intense, Sam. Her being a witch will intensify them. You'll force her to love you.”

  “When I think about her, I don’t feel anything.” I tried to reason.

  She sighed. “Babe, you haven’t seen her since she gave away the broken heart, have you?”

  “No.”

  “Oh goodness.”

  “Can you help?” I pleaded.

  “No, honey.”

  “Can I stay here?” I asked weakly.

  “Of course, you can. Your room is always going to be your room.”

  I felt defeated as I rose and stalked off to my bedroom. The hunger in my stomach and everywhere else was painful, but not painful enough. I deserved much worse.

  Chapter 24

  Never mix siren and witch

  Ophelia

  The darkness of the shadows scared me. Even as I sat perfectly still, they tickled, moving like snakes writhing around in my belly.

  “Ophelia.” Oliver stood in the doorway, clearly worried. “Are they inside you?”

  “Who?”

  “The shadows that came from the spell.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “I can feel them.”

  He bent and pulled a small dagger from his boot and walked to me. “I have to get them out.”

  He took my hand in his and pricked my finger on the tip and then did the same to his finger and pressed our bloody fingertips together.

  Light filled the spot with incredible warmth.

  The warmth ran up my fingers and into my hand. Soon my entire arm was tingling with heat.

  “What is that?” I gasped, staring up into his cold blue eyes. He didn't answer as the light shot through my body as if illuminating my veins with yellow glow sticks. The warmth touched every inch of me. Nervous, I opened my mouth to speak but a light beam shot from it.

  An agonizing pain stabbed my stomach as the light waged a war against the dark inside me.

  “Just give it a minute,” he soothed.

  But I couldn't. I screamed and writhed, certain the light had lost the war.

  Cold shivers took me, making it hard to stay upright. I clung to myself, falling over and moaning. My face hurt where it pressed against the cold stone floor. As the pain subsided, a gurgle filled my stomach. I heaved once.

  “Here.” Oliver dragged a garbage can over in front of my face. I grabbed it with trembling fingers and leaned into it, retching. The most bizarre thing happened when I threw up. Black goo came out. The sensation of it wiggling against my lips made me retch more.

  “Let it out.” Oliver rubbed my back like my mom used to.

  My stomach hardened as I gripped the pail and screamed as the black goo shot from my lips.

  I coughed, spattering it against the stark white pail.

  “What is it?”

  “The part of you that died.”

  “What?” I coughed again. Blood filled my mouth.

  “The shadow kills some of you off when it gets inside. It kills the light and the good. It's like a cancer. You've let it in too many times now.”

  “Great.” I shivered.

  He got up and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders.

  “Are you full of shadows too?” I shuddered and gagged a little more.

  His brow pinched for a moment. “Sort of.”

  “Can you get them out?”

  “No. Mine are different than yours. Mine are more like pieces of my soul.”

  “What happens if you die?” I shivered, clinging to the pail and breathing heavily.

  “I will cease to exist. I have let the dark kill enough of my soul that if I die, I will just vanish.”

  “God can't help you?” The idea of him dying bothered me.

  He laughed. “He probably could, but he won't. I made my choice.”

  “Like Jonathan?”

  “Yeah.” He rubbed my back. “Your father is completely dead inside now.”

  “Did he ever love Lillith?”

  Oliver appeared on the verge of saying something, maybe a lie to make me feel better, but he stopped himself. “No. He has always loved power, always.”

  I eyed the garbage pail, disgusted by what I saw. “Why did you choose his side?”

  “I didn
’t believe they deserved what they had.”

  “Who?” I frowned.

  “The humans. I thought they were nothing. Weak and pathetic. I didn’t understand why we were trying to save them, when we could use them.”

  “That’s disgusting.” I pushed myself up and lifted the pail. He reached for it, but I moved it away from his grip. “No. I don’t want you to see this.”

  “I have to take it.” He stepped close, making me shiver from the heat of him. “I have no choice. You have to get rid of it a certain way.”

  “No.” I gripped the pail tighter.

  He laughed. “Yes.” He reached a long arm behind me and grabbed the pail of goo. “Trust me.” He took it and walked out.

  I felt sick and disgusting but grabbed my toothbrush and cleaned my teeth and scrubbed my tongue. I rinsed with mouthwash extra well, trying to ignore the way my finger tingled where he had rubbed ours together like blood sisters would.

  Aimee walked feistily. “Have you seen Sam?”

  “No,” I said before I spit and rinsed again.

  “He told me what you had to do.” The steely gray eyes of the death dealer were intense. “Is there any way it could have backfired a little?”

  “Why?” I didn't have the strength for this conversation.

  “Giselle attacked him, and he smelled like sex on a stick.”

  “Gross image. I don’t know. I've never done any of this shit before. He asked. I did. I can't seem to say no to him and he knows it.” I shuddered and walked to my bed, needing sleep.

  “Come with me. I think I know where he would hide from Giselle.” She offered me her hand.

  “I’m tired,” I groaned.

  “We all are.” She grabbed my hand and suddenly we were standing in the hallway at Lydia’s, outside Sam's room. I gagged from the trip.

  “He's here.” Aimee flashed a grin. “That's the worst he's ever been. Normally, he's just tempting. This is nuts.”

  “Let me go in alone. You look like you might eat him,” I groaned.

  Aimee squirmed a little. “I might.”

  I knocked lightly and opened the door a crack. “Sam?”

  Lydia came running down the hall. “NOOOOOO.”

  The sound became part of the background noise. I saw and heard nothing beyond the heart beating in his chest. Exhaling and tightening everywhere, I stepped toward him.