The Roses Academy- the Entire Collection

by Tara Brown

“Can I choose how I go?” He smiled at me sadistically. I didn’t know him anymore. Just as he didn’t know me.

  I winked to the main hall. Aleks searched my face, concerned but I waved it off. “I'm fine. Just finishing something.”

  Marcus walked into the room behind Henry who held a man who looked remarkably like Aleks, only older.

  Henry shoved him into the middle of me, Aleks, Dorian, and Marcus.

  The man grinned at Aleks. “Aleksander, my son. It has been too long. You never visit.”

  Aleks stood tall. “I need to say something to you.”

  His father grinned stupidly.

  Aleks stepped into his face. “I forgive you for ruining my life. For making it so I was cursed alongside you. For destroying everything I held dear. For shaming me and making everyone think I hurt that woman. I forgive you for being weak and pathetic. May the gods take a small measure of pity on you. The small measure you never gave anyone else. Any of those girls.” He grabbed his arms and planted a kiss on his father's cheek.

  The man's face turned bright red. “You always were a weak pathetic little shit,” he growled and twitched. He made a movement toward Aleks, but Dorian was there in a flash.

  “I would like to say something as well. Screw you, you asshole wanker. You never were the father you should have been to my brother and you have never deserved a son as remarkable as he is.” Dorian hauled back and punched him in the face. The man's head snapped back with ferocity, but Dorian had already winked away. Jon snarled and twitched as the monster tried to get out, but Henry held him using magic.

  My palms burned with the need.

  Aleks grabbed my hand.

  His father's face broke into a grin full of contempt. “I don’t believe you introduced me to your lady friend, Aleks.”

  “I never will, Father.”

  Marcus grumbled, “On with it then, Henry. Get your revenge.”

  Aleks squeezed my hand harder. “If I disappear with him, I need you to know I have loved you in every way possible. As a girl, as a Rose, as a lover, and friend. I’m grateful we’re friends now.”

  “Me too.” I never realized that with the death of his father, he could go too. “I don't remember loving you, but I know I did, I have. And you’re right, we are friends.”

  He nodded. We ignored the huge hands reaching for his father and the bright white light of the magic. We stared at each other. I held my breath. His father screamed, painfully. The room swirled with electrically charged air and voices, girls’ voices. Tears streamed down Aleks’ cheeks. He gripped me harder and closed his eyes. The voices became whispered. Gratitude and kind words.

  They swirled above us in a storm like a tornado. The paintings, drapes, and lamps trembled with the movement. My hair was sucked up inside it, but my eyes never left his face. I was terrified he would be gone, and I would never have the chance to fall in love with him again.

  The air became completely still. It stopped so abruptly, I almost felt an impact from the suddenness.

  Aleks’ hands clenched mine. He opened his eyes one at a time. The intense light that hadn’t seemed real was gone but the icy-blue color remained. I squeezed his fingers. He smiled a crooked grin, starting my heartbeat again. I sighed and let him envelop me. Dorian ripped him from my arms and hugged him.

  Marcus rolled his eyes. “The women are free, now get out.”

  Henry stood perfectly still. A transparent woman was before him. She knelt and offered her hand. He took the ghostly white hand in his. “Stand, Niece,” Henry whispered.

  Marcus looked confused.

  Aleks looked sick.

  The girl's head lifted. She turned toward Aleks and smiled. “I forgive you,” she whispered.

  “Please don't.” He bowed his head. “I'm so sorry.” His deep voice was barely audible as well.

  The girl turned back to Henry. “Let them all rest, Uncle.”

  Henry nodded once and she was gone.

  The blue ghosts identical to Ophelia were there, standing before us.

  Dorian spoke to Aleks and the witches, “Ophelia's body is with the necromancer. Aimee’s about to go there now. Oliver’s there already with her. It’s done. Be ready. You can't go near the dark witches but when the necromancer raises her, you need to release your power upon her, cleanse her body of Oliver’s taint.”

  They nodded their heads and vanished again.

  I leaned in and studied Hanna. She still had her eyes closed. I didn't want to leave her alone with Marcus.

  Aleks sighed. “This is what it feels like to live. The forlorn feelings that weighed me down are gone.”

  Marcus crossed his arms. “Time to go. I'm certain you can have this conversation elsewhere.”

  Aleks laughed. “You're such an arse, Marcus.”

  Dorian turned to me. “Go where the doctor showed you, that picture he gave you of the bayou. We’re meeting back at Lydia’s when it’s done.”

  Aleks rested a hand on my arm. “Be safe.” He appeared about to kiss me but he didn't, thank God. That would have been too weird. He and Dorian vanished.

  Marcus watched me for a moment. “You know he’s only attractive because of the curse. The curse made you love him.”

  Henry shook his bowler-hat-covered head. “Curse broken.”

  “Broken? No more magic smell and weird aphrodisiac on his skin? No more angel irresistible weirdness?”

  The bowler hat shook again. “Curse broken.”

  I was stunned. “But I smelled it. I smelled it just there. He was going to kiss me and I had that same feeling.” I touched my lips with my finger.

  “It will fade. Forced attraction always fades.” Marcus grinned as if it was the best moment of his day, tormenting me.

  I lifted my middle finger and winked.

  Chapter 19

  My good side

  Hanna

  I watched her leave through my eyelashes and continued to pretend to be asleep. The whole thing was freaking me out but I couldn't react or feel afraid.

  The dark-haired man I was left with turned to face me. His face softened when he saw me. He walked over and scooped me up. Immediately, I smelled it. I smelled the thing Aimee was talking about.

  The man carried me down the hallway. He stopped and turned at a door. He closed the door when we were inside a room. I couldn’t see it through my lashes but I felt the bed when he laid me down on it. It was soft with thick blankets and pillows.

  His breath was over my face, driving me crazy. “Pretending to sleep won't stop what I'm about to do to you.”

  “Don't touch me.” My eyes opened and I scooted away from him.

  He chuckled. “Oh, Hanna. I've missed you.”

  “Who are you?”

  “A friend of your father's.” His smile turned wicked. “And I guess your mother's as well.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “You knew her?” He was too young to have known them. He was not much older than I was.

  He lay on his side next to me and smiled. “I did. How are you feeling? Still scared?”

  “I just don’t understand any of this.”

  “I won't bite you. I swear.” His eyes sparkled with delight and lies.

  Luckily, the bed was massive so we didn't have to be near each other.

  “Are you afraid of me?”

  “Of course.” I scoffed.

  “Why?”

  “I don't know you at all. The ghosts in the other room and the people who are there one minute and gone the next. The man with the bowler hat killed that guy who is still dead on the carpet. The list is pretty long.”

  He ignored my rantings, disinterested. “But me, are you afraid of me?”

  I almost nodded but something in his eyes was so familiar I couldn’t. I shook my head. “No. I don't know why.”

  He grinned. “Excellent.” He sighed. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes. I guess I am.” I didn’t know what to think or say. I felt lost inside myself.

  He climbed off the bed
. “Be right back.”

  He left the room, which gave me a chance to check it all out. It was huge. Dark-blue walls and huge fabric curtains made the room eerie. The limited light coming in seemed odd. I’d noticed it about the front room. It was the size of a basketball court but the light was dim.

  I climbed off the bed and walked to the window. The glass was old; the home must have been hundreds of years old.

  “I brought you some root beer and cook is making waffles for you.”

  “So, do you run this as an inn or house orphans?”

  He sighed. “Look, we've had this conversation many a time. I know you think I'm ostentatious and live beyond my means, but I don't care. I like it.”

  “What?”

  He sat in a chair in the corner, folding his arms. “We have met before. It was a different world maybe or just a different time. I don't want to explain it.”

  “You’re lying.” I crossed my arms. “Are you supposed to be taking some kind of meds? I have this friend who was supposed to be on some kind of antipsychotic medicine and when she felt really good on the meds, she stopped taking them.”

  He laughed bitterly. “You make me psychotic, trust me.”

  “That’s not very nice.”

  “My sweet Hanna. I've missed you so.”

  “Why?” I was so lost. And so much more detached. “I mean, I get that this is some kind of weird hookup, like my dad is sending me here to hang with you, which is creepy. There’s no denying it. And like, I’m not against a random hookup, the opportunity hasn't ever come up for me, and you’re super hot and you smell good. But this is really weird. And maybe not how I should lose my virginity. I mean, I’ve never been one of those girls who has a special plan for how it’s gonna go, but this is off the charts of crazy town.”

  “You aren’t making sense.” He blinked at me. “You’re a virgin?”

  “Yeah.” I took a second to contemplate how weird this entire conversation was.

  “What about that Jimmy Stratton fellow?” He sounded disappointed.

  “How do you know that name?” My insides twinged like they were supposed to.

  “You told me the last time we were friends that you lost your virginity to Jimmy Stratton.”

  “Well, I didn't.” I scowled. Nothing about this day was ever going to be okay. “This is a frightening experience and my father forcing me come here and the overwhelming feelings of it all is making me hallucinate I think. I don't even know you and you make me wanna be slutty, like this was destined. I have no words for that.”

  “This is most unexpected.”

  “This is a mistake. I shouldn't be here. I need to go home.”

  “Hanna, I love you. I have for years, several times, whatever the bloody hell it is that Ari does. I honestly am not going to try to explain that again. I have loved you through it all. You make me the man I want to be.”

  “Bro.” I winced. “Whoa. Isn't the virgin supposed to be needy and clingy? Stage four virgin clinger?”

  He looked exasperated. “What?”

  “You know Wedding Crashers? I get that you want to hook up and stuff, which maybe like after we got to know each other more or had some drinks. I could YOLO that. But let’s not go saying things like ‘love’ when we just met.”

  His face dropped. “Was any of that English? You did graduate from high school this time? Or has Ari made you stupid? Dear God.”

  “Who? What? I graduated. Why are you being mean to me?”

  Who’s Ari?

  “Are you broken?” He sounded genuinely disappointed.

  “Okay, I take it back. I can’t YOLO it if you’re going to be a jerk.” I grabbed the root beer he brought me and guzzled it back, hoping the sugars would balance out the craziness going on inside me.

  Chapter 20

  The bayou and the broken heart

  Aimee

  The air was hot and sticky. It felt like it weighed a ton.

  “Ready?”

  I glanced at Oliver and nodded.

  He took my hand in his and pulled me through the bayou forest. After the assault, I didn't want him touching me, but I also didn't want to focus on that right this second.

  “Where are we?”

  “Blackwater Bayou. It’s in Louisiana. Just outside Baton Rouge.” He was calm and quiet.

  The bayou stunk with blood, magic, and stale air.

  He pulled me to a cabin. It was a shack with a yard littered with old jawbones, old logs in weird shapes, and the skinned hides of dead animals. The lawn wasn't grass but weeds and what looked like mini mounds of dirt. I gripped his hand tighter.

  I didn’t know what a necromancer does, beyond the obvious translation but from the look of the place it wasn't good.

  “You know I had no choice, right?” I asked.

  “It's all my fault, Aimee. Not yours. She pulled the darkness from me. She pulled the memory wipe. She pulled it all. I'm free and clear again. Clean slate. Like a newborn, and she’s dead because of it.” The guilt on his face hurt my heart.

  “She died saving you. That must mean something to you.”

  “I know.” He winced. “If it ever happens to you, let me know if it makes you feel any better to be the one who's still alive.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  He squeezed my hand. “I know. You wouldn’t have hurt her if you didn’t have to”—he put a hand up to the old wooden door and knocked—“just as I would never have done any of that to you.” He lowered his gaze. “I am sick with guilt.”

  The door creaked open.

  “Holy snap, it’s The Blair Witch Project.” I stepped back, actually scared.

  “I don't know what that means.” He hauled me inside the old cabin. The smells hit instantly. I almost gagged, but held my nose.

  “Who ya be?” A pair of white eyes greeted us from the darkest far corner. Her face was as dark as the shadows she sat in, but her eyes were bright and white. Like Aleks’ did, they glowed like a light shone from them.

  “You know you no welcome. You know he no want me to help.” Her accent was thick and Cajun. Her white eyes looked as if they didn't see us but instead saw the things I couldn’t. Which was saying a lot, since I could see the dead. Sometimes.

  Oliver dropped to his knees. “I need you, Momma Holt. I need your aid.”

  She was peeling something, a vegetable or a root of sorts. Maybe. Maybe it was the arm of her last visitor. I cringed. She pointed her knife at me. “Momma Holt don’t eat no people. Don’t need skins from no people.”

  Oliver spun back to me and mouthed, “Try not to think. Her kind are always readers. Among other things.”

  I blanked my mind and thought about science and Blake, and how much I missed him.

  “Momma Holt don’t help, no you. No demons in my house.” She muttered it, still rocking and peeling.

  He put a hand forward to her. “I am pure. No demon.”

  She stabbed the blade into his hand, making him wince in pain. She pulled it out and tasted the blood and spit it into the pot next to her. “Dat be good, pure and good. Drip some in the pot, demon.”

  He stood and held his closed fist over her big black cooking pot in her lap that I couldn’t help but think was a cauldron.

  “Momma Holt ain't no bad juju conjurer, demon.”

  Oliver gave me a look.

  “I meant no offense, Momma Holt,” I whispered. She terrified me. I doubted I could kill her.

  I blanked my mind quickly as she chuckled and peeled the thing in her hands. “You need da witch back?”

  Oliver nodded once.

  “You trade Momma Holt.”

  Oliver shivered. “What would you like?”

  She glanced at me. “Dem souls. Dem souls she gone and ate.”

  Oliver gazed back at me. He closed his eyes. “Done.”

  I panicked inside, quietly. I didn’t know what that meant but I could guess it was bad. Oliver was clearly desperate and his hands were clenched together. Even Momma Holt seemed su
rprised at his agreement.

  When he opened his eyes, he stared at me long and hard and then whispered, “I'm sorry, Aimee.”

  I was about to die.

  I understood.

  She was going to take everything from me.

  She was the thing that could kill me.

  Fear and terror filled me.

  Oliver peered back at Momma Holt. “You raise the witch first.”

  She spit on her hand and put it out to him. Oliver spit on his hand and pressed it into hers. They steamed and sizzled.

  She nodded. “We raise dat witch den.”

  Oliver pulled his cell and sent a text. A second later a grin crossed the old woman's face. She sniffed the air and mumbled to herself. My insides churned and twisted. I wanted to run and wink and free myself, but I couldn’t. We needed O. I had thought we needed me too, but I realized Dorian could just make another me. I was replaceable.

  A knock at the door startled me.

  I jumped as the old wooden door opened. Dorian walked in with Aleks behind him, holding Ophelia's limp body.

  Dorian stopped mid step and gasped at Oliver. “What have you done?”

  Oliver was steadfast. “It was her demand. Lorri said whatever it took to get her back.”

  Dorian stepped into his face and shouted, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

  Momma Holt grabbed her walking stick and slammed it on the hard wooden floorboards. Her white eyes were gone. Replacing them were dark crimson eyes.

  Dorian bowed his head. “Forgive me, Momma Holt.” He said it through a clenched jaw.

  Momma Holt walked to the table. “You put da witch on da tableau.”

  Aleks laid Ophelia down on the wooden table amongst the jars and herbs. His eyes darted to mine. He was lost. Dorian understood but Aleks didn't.

  Momma Holt started mixing and chanting.

  I turned away. I should have wanted to watch. I should have wanted to see it, the greatest thing I would ever see, a necromancer raising the dead. A real act of God. But I didn’t. I was frozen.

  Silent tears streamed down my cheeks as I stared at the wall, away from everyone else. Knowing I was about to die, horribly, was much worse than just dying.