The Roses Academy- the Entire Collection

by Tara Brown

  I swallow hard. “He’s still frozen in the bathroom?”

  Her eyes narrow.

  “I didn’t mean to. He grabbed me and said he wanted my blood. He got real pushy and I froze him somehow.”

  She mutters, looking out at the valley, “You always seem to pick the winners, Lorelei.”

  I let that one slide, but I don't know how much more I’ll be able to take before I start defending myself. Mean words and thoughts have been flitting through my mind for days. As much as I feel bad, I’m about done with it.

  Em bites her lip, wincing. “Lorelei, you have to stop using the magic. Momma can probably sense it and track us.”

  Whit comes sauntering up onto the overlook. “Here you are. I was getting a bit worried. We were all worried. Are you all right?”

  We glance amongst each other before nodding.

  He doesn't look like he believes me, but he points back at the stairs. “We found my brother in an odd situation. He seems fine now that he’s awake.” His stare hardens. “I have to assume that was some sort of self-defense against certain advances made on his part?”

  “Great. He’s unfrozen?”

  He sighs. “I’m so sorry, Lorelei. He’s an ass at times.”

  “Ass isn’t the word I would have used.” Angie snorts. “He’s doggoned feisty about getting frozen.”

  The words make me gulp. “Does he remember anything?”

  “Yeah, and he’s not happy about having been frozen in the first place,” Angie adds.

  “You’d think he’d be excited to be alive after what he did to me,” I mutter, pushing away the memories.

  Angie walks past me, taking in the view, and then turns and smiles wickedly like she’s going to tell me a nasty story. “Let’s just say, he was madder than old man Bracken’s dog when he got the quills in his face. Poor Rocky, he was real upset about that.”

  Emily laughs, gripping me. “Caesar, his name was Caesar.”

  “You sure it wasn't Rocky?” Angie cocks an eyebrow.

  Em rolls her eyes. “His name was Caesar. Rocky was that dog down the road from us, on the river side of the road. He was the one they always put a child’s raincoat on.”

  Angie’s eyes light up. “You are right! I remember that. Oh my, it feels like Baton Rouge is a million miles away.”

  I fight not to resent the intimate moment they’re having. The way the front of Emily’s body is pressed against the back of mine, holding me up almost, stops me from being angry with them for loving each other more than they currently love me. She is at least touching me again and Angie’s laughing. It’s a start.

  Whit gives us each a look. It’s awkward and I suspect he can tell he’s being intrusive just by loitering about. He nods back at the stairs. “I will wait below for you, and perhaps scold my brother some more.”

  We ignore him and enjoy the cold view of the trees swaying in the moonlight. Finally, just feeling brave enough, I whisper into the wind, “I wish you both coulda seen the future. It was shiny and pretty and everyone was so—different. Women didn't have to marry anyone. Angie, they were CEOs and had men for secretaries. They were pilots and senators. It was like a whole other world.”

  Em nods against my face. “Maybe don't talk about it. I can’t imagine it helping the cause of me and Angie thinking you’re sane in any way.”

  “Now that's a fact.” Angie nods.

  I laugh, still wishing they’d been with me so they could’ve seen the future I spared them by killing them and making them monsters.

  Undead.

  It’s a word that sits on my tongue too easily. It’s in good company, like a bunch of fleas on a barn cat. Words like vampire and witch and werewolf and devil and angel. They all sit there on my tongue, mocking me, and the things I believed before. Or rather, didn't believe.

  “Please, if you both could just hear one thing from me and take it and tuck it away in your chests next to your hearts: it’s that I woulda chose my own death before I saw you hurt. Either of you. If I’d had a choice in the matter at all, it woulda been me every time. I don't care if you don't believe anything else, believe that.”

  Em sighs again. “I do. I know you wouldn't hurt me, Lorelei.”

  Angie looks at her and the fight dies off in her eyes too. “Me too.”

  “It doesn't change the fact I did hurt you though, does it?”

  They both shake their heads and I hate everything. It makes me see the truth about Whit in my heart. No amount of love and forgiveness is ever going to change how I became this.

  The wind picks up and Em wraps her arms around herself. “I don't like the wind. I’m going back in.”

  I nod, not moving as she and Angie leave me there.

  I wish for a second I could hide away from it all.

  “Hide in here. He wants your blood. They all do.” A small voice flits onto the overlook with me. I don't even think it’s real until I hear a giggle. It’s the little kid again, the one who told me about the overlook when I ran in the hallway from Momma and frozen Rydal.

  The giggle rides the wind around my face, making my spine tingle and my arm hairs stand on end. I stop and check around for the little girl but she ain’t there. No one is, and yet the giggle wasn't alone. I could swear there were other voices.

  I’m pretty used to the ghosts of the world wanting to talk to me. Too comfortable. The weird part isn’t that there’s no one there—no, the weird part is I think the voice came from the wooden door next to me. Immediately, I recall the words she said about the secrets of the castle. The door must be hiding them. I’m fixing to open it when I feel the icy chill in the wind. It makes a barrier between me and the door, persuading me not to open it. I back away, unsure of whatever is there. It could always be Momma getting theatrical.

  “Lorelei?”

  I jump, turning to see Whit standing in the exact spot as before.

  “You all right?”

  “No.” I don't want to talk to him about it. I don't want to love him or be near him, but I’ve never been so alone. Even when I ran from him and lived on the road for fifty years, I never felt this alone.

  I don't want to, but I find my legs walking to him as though he’s caught me in his tractor beam. Like he did the night before. The spell isn’t broken between us; it’s lessened. I’m never getting rid of it.

  He wraps himself around me, resting his head on mine. “You seem a bit off. Ya hearing things?”

  A whisper rides the wind, delicately telling me to lie. “No. I just thought y’all might kill me for hurting your brother.”

  “Rydal?” He pulls me back, almost roughly. “Why? Why would you say that?”

  “It was a joke.” It isn’t a joke at all. Neither is his response to my incredibly unfunny joke. He makes me nervous here in Scotland. His dad’s comment that he was supposed to bring the blood and not the girls has been running through my head.

  A terribly large part of me believes his speech in the rain outside my house in Baton Rouge. His devotion and love declarations are all still so enormous in my heart, but not my head. Since meeting Marcus, I’ve had a nagging feeling that I’ve trusted the wrong man. That feeling spends all its time seeing everything Whit does as suspicious. My fears have been picking apart the foundation our love is built upon, only to find the base is shallow and superficial and made of some kind of blood magic.

  The last few days have been eye-opening. My initial instinct to run from him for fifty years was the right one.

  He gives me the look that tries to melt my heart and chip away at the doubts. It really is a killer. Then he does the thing I love the most. He smiles softly and peers down at me through his lashes, blushing just a little. “We all know what Rydal is like. I assume he knew what you were before he went into the bathroom and that's why he attacked you. I don't know how he knew but I am guessing he did. He mentioned he was trying to get under your skin, as a joke. Now that you’ve used magic it’s harder to lie to them. It doesn't matter though. I’ve told the
m you are mine. Come downstairs. You’re freezing and you need to just keep the heid. My father doesn't like it when the family is at each other. You’re family now.”

  “Keep the heid? Is that code?” I need to keep him thinking we might be okay. I need to leave, to run again, now that they know I am a witch.

  His cheeks flush even more as a grin takes his lips to a place I enjoy them sitting. His bashful smile is a lady-killer and usually gets to me, but not today. Today my brain points out all the flaws in the system. He licks his lips. “It means stay calm and don't get upset. It’s just a saying. Like you and all the weird pig-in-a-fit talk.”

  I pull back. “Pig in a fit? I’ve never said ‘pig in a fit.’ That sounds stupid. What pig has a fit?”

  He lowers his face, hovering over my mouth. “Just trust me, Lorelei. I will never hurt you and I will never let anyone else do so.”

  “Your dad said you were supposed to bring the blood. You didn’t tell him about me before we came?”

  Whit shakes his head. “I didn't. Since we arrived I told him you are mine and that's that. There are plenty of witches in the world. The end of the Blackwater line is sad, but it’s not everything.”

  Chills run up my spine. “You plan to keep on killing witches and taking their blood?”

  His eyes dart to the wooden door. The movement is so fast that I doubt I would have caught it before I was changed. He shrugs. “I don't want to talk about this.” He scoops me up into his arms, carries me to the ledge of the castle, and leaps. My stomach lifts into my throat as we drop to the ground with a thud.

  He grins again, smug and sexy-like.

  I roll my eyes. “Show off.” I play along with his game of being casual about it all.

  “If I don't impress ya, ya might run off with one of my brothers. They’re better with the ladies than I am, by far.”

  He has the run off part right.

  He takes me to a side door that leads to the back stairs and carries me to our room. I have plans involving that wooden door but making him think I’m fine is the only way I’m going to get in there. If he doesn't think we’re good he’ll hover, and I’ll never get away.

  He steps into his room, closing the door and putting me down. He leans against the door with his back, watching me like I’m the prey.

  It dawns on me then, I am the prey. I back away with one thought adrift in my mind. He wants to feed off me.

  He loosens his shirt and walks to me, cupping my face and bending to press his soft lips against mine.

  My stomach flutters. His fangs graze my lips as we caress, mixing my blood in our mouths. He pulls on my lip, sucking my blood as his hands lower to my back, pressing my chest into his stomach. I don't want him like this. Especially not while his brother is begging me for my blood. No, it’s creepy. Even more than creepy if Whit’s kissing me just to get blood like the ghost said he wanted.

  They all do. Her words drift through my mind.

  Like Marcus said, I’m an unlimited supply of witch blood. It’s seedy.

  I want to push him away but I don't. I tear my lips from his, turning my back to him and closing my eyes. If I push him away he’ll try harder. But I also don't want to see his face as he takes what he wants. I just want to pretend I’m somewhere nice and my life is amazing.

  I pull my hair to the right, revealing the left side of my neck for him. I just want him to take what it is he wants and leave me be. He lifts me up, walking us both forward to the bed. He lays me down, still wanting to kiss. I just want him to end it.

  His body presses against mine, but as his lips graze my neck, he pauses. “What’s wrong, Lorelei?”

  “Nothing.” But my voice cracks. Damn.

  He pulls back. “Tell me.”

  “No.”

  He exhales loudly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  I gamble with the possibility that if I make him mad he’ll leave me alone, instead of hovering and trying to patch things up—if I make him feel guilty enough. “You only want me for my blood. You can feed off me but I won’t die from it. You can just keep taking and taking and taking.”

  “What?” His body completely stiffens. “That's what you think of me? After everything?”

  I point at the door. “Your brother attacked me in the bathroom because he wanted my blood. Your father told you to bring the blood and not the girls. What the hell am I meant to think?”

  He pales, climbing from the bed and leaving the room. Leaving me to think about what I said.

  As much as he says everything is for me and he loves me, I just won’t ever be able to see it or believe it. He has too many motives for everything else. And deep inside me, there is still a girl who once ran across a field, fleeing from the blood bath that was her family, running from the man who loved her so much he killed her. And that girl is still the longest life I have ever lived. That life as a girl running for fifty years, spending every day alone and every hour looking over her shoulder—she is still the biggest part of me.

  She makes me get up from the bed, telling me what my next moves are. I run to Angie and Em’s room, knocking frantically while keeping the sounds I make to a minimum.

  Angie opens it, cocking an eyebrow. “What?”

  “I think we’re in danger.”

  “Angie said his family didn't care about the whole freezing Rydal thing. He was the only one who was mad.” Em stands up from her bed, putting down the book she’s reading. When she sees my face, she scowls. “What kind of trouble? What’s happened? I sort of thought you and Whit was patching things up again. Did Momma come again? We gotta leave if she’s here.”

  “They just wanted the magical blood of a witch. That's what we’re here for.”

  “I’m a vampire, Lorelei. I don't have magical blood,” Em says doubtingly.

  Angie nods. “Yeah, only you have magic.”

  I shudder, realizing they aren’t in danger at all. I’m alone again. The thought makes my stomach drop.

  “So you think he brought you here to be the unending blood bag instead of as a girlfriend? Angie, you did say her blood is delicious.” Em pulls on her cardigan and walks to me. “What do you need us to do?”

  Maybe not so alone.

  Angie’s face is the same. She won’t protest helping me. They aren’t going to leave me alone.

  Thank you, dear lord.

  “I think Whit lured me here to be a blood bag for him. Now that his brothers know, God knows what’s gonna happen. But I’m scared there are other witches here somewhere.” I shudder. “There are ghosts here. I bet we could find one and ask if they can help free the other witches.”

  “Ghosts?” Em’s eyes narrow. “Like Momma?”

  “Yeah. Like Momma, but not evil. I don't think they are. They showed me a wooden door, and when Whit was talking about killing witches he looked at the door, real guilty-like. We should go see what’s behind it.”

  Em disagrees, “We should just run.”

  I can’t, I can’t just leave them there.

  Fortunately, Angie shrugs. “Beats staying in this room. I’m going squirrely sitting here, waiting for someone to tell us it’s fine to walk the grounds. Their dad got real angry when Rydal had a fit, and the dad told us we had to stay in our rooms.”

  “How did they thaw him?”

  She shrugs and her eyes go to Em who shakes her head. The thought that they can break my magic isn’t very comforting. Especially, if they’re planning on draining me. “I bet you a nickel to a donut, my blood is somehow special to them. They get something from it. I want to know what.”

  We turn and sneak down the empty stone hallway. The castle has many walls made of bricks and stone. It’s eerie in an enchanting sort of way. There are trickles of water when you get close to the outside walls and they whistle where the wind creeps in. The lights flicker and the shadows dance with ours.

  Em whispers, “This is exactly like a Nancy Drew Mystery. I feel like we’re gonna find dead bodies and have to escape the vile count who liv
es here. But then of course they’ll all be unmasked and it’ll be nothing but a crime ring.”

  Angie snorts but I agree, “This does remind me of Nancy Drew, the fangy version.

  When we get back to the stairs, I sneak ahead, waving them to follow when I see the way is clear.

  The wooden door sits alone.

  We tiptoe to it, listening for the people of the massive castle to find us snooping. God knows what they’ll do if they find us.

  “What if we find something bad? I think we should run and leave them other witches to deal on their own.”

  I turn to Angie, almost ashamed, but the dark and creepy place could inspire that level of gutlessness in me too. “We are gonna run as soon as we find no one down here. If there are no witches trapped below as blood bags then we are gone.”

  “We gotta get Tessa first, then we run.” Em quivers.

  “Well, we might actually stand a chance,” Angie whispers, making the hair on my neck stand on end. “They all seemed real occupied after they thawed Rydal’s sexy ass. The dad said he needed to discuss business, and I swear I heard the sister getting mad at Whit. She kept saying he should never have brought us here.”

  “I tend to agree with her. His motives are just getting clearer and clearer.” And it doesn't make me feel better at all. “Where is Tessa?”

  “Knitting in the garden room. She’s been doing it since dinner ended with the manhunt for you and Rydal,” Em speaks softly, glancing over her shoulder as I take a breath and squeeze the old-fashioned door handle.

  It’s a heavy door, like it’s made of concrete, but it’s clearly wood. When I pull it back, its hinges groan. I only open it as wide as we need it and slide through. They follow and when Em’s through, she drags the door back.

  When we turn back we all hesitate, staring down the long dark staircase. It’s creepy as sin.

  “This is real spooky, Lorelei.”

  “Just keep chanting that it’s a game, a Nancy Drew game.” My arms are covered in goose bumps and my stomach aches, but I force my feet to move. The stairs are short and narrow, making them awkward to step down without falling to your death.