The Roses Academy- the Entire Collection

by Tara Brown

“Wow, this place has really gone downhill.”

  Oliver mutters to Dorian, “I think this neighborhood is in a bit better shape though. This is where that wanker lived. The one who was in that film I didn't like.”

  Dorian cocks an eyebrow and gives me a look. “Why are we here?”

  Gwen points. “There is a hive of them—succubi, vampires, and even a witch. Lorelei felt her doing magic. She can’t stray from Marcus’ bed though so she sent us. She believes it might be a trap, maybe Lillith is testing her sickness and seeing if she’ll come out to play.”

  Dorian shrugs. “That's her MO, every time she sets a trap. She loves being smug and ahead of us at every step.”

  “She’s a rotten bitch, and if I could kick her in her bits, I wouldn't even hesitate.”

  I give Oliver a look. “You wouldn't, we both know it. No dude is ever going to kick a girl in the bits as you so eloquently put it.”

  He grins at me as Gwen tugs on Shulster’s arm and pulls him into the broken street. She peers back at me when we all get closer to the thing that has made her stop dead in her tracks.

  The smoke clears, and there before us is a jet. It has crash-landed on the road, obviously not that long ago. The lack of lighting and visibility must have been dire. I didn't know planes were still taking off. It seems weird.

  “This is freaky.” She walks closer, studying the wreckage.

  A man comes around the front of the jet, halting when he sees us. His head is bleeding but his pilot’s uniform suggests he has been struggling for some time. It’s ripped and filthy with old dirt. He wrinkles his brow, taking a step back. Tears linger in his eyes like he’s been crying. “Who are you?” he stammers.

  Dorian edges toward him. “We are just some people going that way.”

  “There’s nothing over there. Everyone is dead. Everything is dead. There are no people. Who are you?”

  “Sir, I assure you, we are just people going that way.” Madness is mixing with the tears in his eyes. I point in the direction of the evil scent that taunts us. “That's where we’re going.”

  He shakes his head. “You’re demons. This is Revelation and you are the devil’s army—the people who speak the lies and trick the innocent.” He screams at us, “GET BACK DEVIL, GET THEE BACK! GOD WILL PROTECT ME AND SAVE ME FROM YOU!” He’s lost it completely. His eyes are wild and insane, and his head injury is quite bad. “ARE THESE YOUR SLUTS? THE DEVIL’S WHORES?”

  “Well, you're half right.” Dorian sighs, his impatience showing. He reaches for the man but his hand doesn't move beyond a few inches from his chest. The man jumps back. Oliver grabs for the man, but is also unable to move. Gwen, Shulster, and I stand completely still and totally confused. Dorian tries again but his hands won’t move.

  I reach for the man, sipping his life away as he struggles and screams. I drop him to the road, but my eyes have not left Dorian and Oliver. Dorian cracks a smile after a few seconds. “We cannot commit a sin it would seem.”

  Oliver adds, “I did try to toss a rock at a kid on a bike back at Shane’s, when we first arrived and kids still rode on bikes. My arm wouldn't move.”

  Dorian laughs but Gwen and I both look horrified. “You did what?”

  He shrugs. “What?”

  Shulster grabs Gwen and pulls her along the road, no doubt hoping we will follow. She glances back at me with a puzzled look in her eyes. “Why did you kill him?”

  “He would have died a far crueler death had I left him. I don't think there are any good people left. And he called us whores. That was sort of mean.”

  She turns back around, and I can’t help but wonder if my reasoning makes me sick or considerate. I don't know things like that anymore.

  We tread past all the debris and damaged houses and my brain literally can’t wrap around what I see. Somehow we’ve missed it all. We’ve skipped over the bad parts of the Earth’s worst hours. Destruction and decay are everywhere. But my brain still doesn't rationalize it a hundred percent. I am still slipping past days. My fingers curl into Dorian’s as we walk along the road.

  I wonder how he feels about it all. His face is stoic. He’s the master of that expression.

  I love that I never know what he’s thinking, and I suspect I give him far more credit for thinking than he actually does think.

  A bang off to the left makes us all spin but a black dog is all that emerges. He’s rooting and running. He’s thin and I fear scavenging for food like all animals now. The ghost city, once a thriving metropolis, is silent apart from the wind and the scavengers.

  “This is eerie.”

  Dorian nods, squeezing my hand tighter. He doesn't lift it and kiss it. He doesn't try to hold me. He isn’t like that. I wonder if he knows how to love someone at all.

  Gwen turns suddenly, narrowing her gaze. The house she is focused on, like a hound pointing out the fallen bird, is set back from the road and massive. She swallows before whispering, “That's it.”

  We all turn. I catch a glimpse of the side of the house and wink, forgetting I’m with Dorian. He gives me a shitty sneer. “I like to do the driving, love.”

  I tug my hand from his and creep around the corner of the house to the back. The din of the feast below makes me shudder. It’s feeding time. I smell the blood.

  It makes Dorian smile as if he has forgotten why he’s here. I shake my head at him, earning a scowl. We creep along the house to the French doors leading into the kitchen, completely silent, and yet not cautious.

  Dorian just walks in, gazing about. His lifetime as an undefeated immortal has made him reckless. My decade of repeating the same few years hasn't afforded me the confidence he has. I’m always prepared to fight.

  We sneak along the walls to the stairs to the basement.

  The smell wafts up to the main floor from below. Dorian motions at the door. “Go cover for me.”

  I lift my middle finger. “You go cover.”

  He gives me a look, but I wink to the bottom of the stairs before he can touch me. The hallway is dark and silent. I creep to the right, sensing him enter the basement with me and walk to the left.

  I can imagine the smile on his face. I discover a cold room, a bedroom, and a bathroom. There is nothing else.

  I turn and slink back to the stairs, listening. Dorian’s breath is honestly the only sound I hear. The feasting has stopped momentarily. A lull in the feast perhaps?

  I make my way into a large recreation room with a massive TV and pool table, and a full bar. No wonder they chose this house to party at.

  The back bedrooms and sauna are all empty.

  “We heard them, I know we did.” Dorian gives me a confused look. “You smell it too, right? They’re here.”

  I nod, still glancing about in the dark. The moonlight coming in the windows provides the smallest amount of light, but it’s enough to get by.

  I wink us to the stairs, smelling it the strongest there. I turn and walk around the side, finding a random door. Had I seen it anywhere else, I would have thought under-stairs storage, now I don't think that. The smell is so ripe I can taste the blood.

  I turn the knob, hearing the sounds of the kill as the door cracks open.

  Dorian goes first, taking the concrete stairs slowly. Below, a light flickers in the corner. It’s a candle or a lantern. It isn’t as constant as regular light. Shadows flicker with the glow, moving and thrusting. It’s a giant orgy. The black reflection of Dorian’s eyes sparkles in the dim light. “Leave now.”

  I shake my head but he winks me out, shoves me across the grass, and winks away. Gwen gives me a surprised expression. “How bad is it in there?”

  “Celebration of death and torture.”

  “Gross.”

  I nod. Oliver points to the bushes at the back of the yard. “Let’s go stand over here. I have a suspicion he’s going to blow them all to pieces.”

  We follow him to the rear of the house and wait. Dorian winks back to us, taking our hands and focusing his stare on the house.
He waits for the massive bang and explosion before he winks us to Marcus’ mansion. He grins. “I do miss being able to blow shit up.”

  “You can’t do bad things? How did you do that?”

  He tilts his head, with an expression like I should know the answer. “That wasn't bad, love. That was exactly what God would have expected.” He scoops me into his arms and presses his lips on mine before releasing me quickly.

  “You’re so weird.”

  He shrugs and stalks into the kitchen, pulling a bag of potato chips from the cupboard. Shane snatches them. “That's the last bag.” He takes a bunch and hands it back. “We share or I dump the whole bag down my throat.”

  “It’s a crisp, Shane, not the last bottle of scotch.” Dorian rolls his eyes and eats a second chip.

  Shane pulls back, taking the bag and walking away. “You don't deserve them if you can’t recognize this is the last bag, maybe on Earth.”

  Blake winks in, acting guilty the moment he sees all of us.

  Dorian eyes him up, smelling the guilt. “What’s that look on your face?”

  He shrugs. “There’s no look.”

  “How is she?” I ask, avoiding the whole conversation.

  He scowls at me. “They’re all fine. Our parents get along great.”

  “How’s Alise?”

  His cheeks redden. “So pretty I manage to forget about the entire world and all its bullshit for the hour I’m there, okay?” He stomps into the living room and slumps down in the dark.

  Marcus passes him a bottle of booze as they stare at the black screen of the TV.

  “It is just depressing enough in here.”

  Dorian nods at me. “You’d think the world had lost the battle.”

  Marcus snorts. “It might as well lose—what the bloody hell is the point of living without Netflix? You answer me that? Or the new Hearthstone game from Blizzard? Or the new Halo? There is nothing to do.”

  Dorian crosses the expansive room, grabbing some logs and tossing them into the fireplace. “You seem to forget the eras we have lived through. The shit we have seen. The moments in time we have experienced. Technology has been around for about sixty years. Before that we read and walked and lit fires.” He grabs the lighter fluid and the matches and starts a bright fire. “We detached from our own worries and problems and engaged with others. This generation of people is weak and that's why they’re dead. You know the moment the Wi-Fi cut out, millions of people emerged from their dark houses and stared up at the sky as if awakening from a coma.”

  Marcus lifts his hand. “I was one of them. I was mid-game when it cut off. Seriously disappointing.”

  It makes me smile. I know exactly how he feels. I don't want to admit it, not with Dorian acting like we should all be grateful to be alive during this glorious time.

  His eyes cross the room to find me. I wink, hoping he’ll follow.

  Chapter 14

  Witches of East—who cares, they’ve ruined my house

  It takes seven weeks, or so Blake thinks he counted seven, for Lillith to attack.

  Lightning touches down in the hallway as if a storm brews in the ceiling.

  Shane grabs my arm, dragging me into a room as a flood of bolts shoot past me. He peeks out the door, muttering, “There are three of them. It’s like a horror movie. Lillith and two witches.”

  I glance around. “Where’s Giselle?”

  He rolls his eyes. “She left a while ago to see if she could raid some designer’s house in France. I told her everything is destroyed and his house is likely raided already. It’s been years, but she found an article in a magazine showcasing his home. So she winked there.”

  It makes me smile. Giselle is still very much the girl she was when this all started. I can’t say that about myself. But Blake and Shane are unchanged. Shane still moves like a police officer. He winks us to the next doorway, pointing down the hall. “That door there is Lorelei’s. Want to bet they’re in there?”

  “Marcus has a false wall in there where he can watch the people inside.”

  Shane backs away in horror. “No.”

  “Yeah.” I wink us there. We duck immediately as there is a hole in the wall where a bolt of lightning has struck. Lorelei is doing her best wounded-gazelle act. Two witches hold Lorelei’s limp body against the far wall while Lillith paces. “The fae have betrayed you the way they did me.”

  Lorelei shakes her head, coughing. “The fae love me. They always have. Ain’t no one ever loved you, Lillith.”

  Lillith’s mouth twitches into a grin but it’s wry and sadistic-looking. Marcus creeps from the shadows behind us. He shakes his head. “Wink in and kill them.” There is a desperate fear in his gaze. I am about to argue his request when suddenly Dorian is in the room. He walks toward them, hands out.

  “Impossible! How are you alive?”

  Dorian offers up a sarcastic smile. “Someone loves me far more than he ever loved you.”

  She laughs. “You were always Lorri’s bitch.”

  Dorian isn’t fazed. He tilts his head to the side. “And you were always that sad little victim nobody wanted. Jonathan used you, hoping to make his own army of powerful creatures. God gave you to Adam, and he let him hurt you because you meant nothing to him.”

  I am about to wink in there and kill Dorian myself when she turns, screaming in rage. She’s lost control. She shoots at him, but he’s been winking since before she was born. Every shot just misses. She screams louder, breaking a huge mirror, spraying glass across the room.

  Through the glass spray Lorelei snaps her fingers, imprisoning the two witches with the drapes. Dorian winks behind Lillith as Lorelei grabs her with wind and spins her. Her scream surrounds us. I wink to the witches struggling with the drapes and kiss away the life in one as Shane does the other. Lorelei snaps her fingers, pausing Lillith. And as if done in slow motion on purpose, Dorian grabs her face, smiling bitterly, and presses his lips against hers. She screams into the embrace, but Lorelei has called upon every ounce of magic she has. Her beautiful body drops to the floor in a slump.

  We all breathe heavily as though we’ve run a marathon.

  Marcus walks out from behind his pervert wall, taking in the damage done to the room. “What the bloody hell? How come my house always has to be the spot getting shit on?”

  Lorelei peers up from her tears and shakes her head. “You can just say you’re excited this is over.”

  He scoffs. “I’m excited this is the only room to be completely destroyed.” He glances back at me. “Apart from my lab.”

  I lift my hands in the air. “That was an accident and you know it.”

  “I hate witches.”

  Lorelei cocks her head. “What?”

  “Well, apart from you.”

  “And?”

  “Momma Holt and Ramón.” His tone is sarcastic and mocking, but she smiles and walks to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. They kiss.

  Dorian, still hovering over her body, turns his face to mine. “I feel sick for saying those things.”

  I fight the grin my face so badly wants to flash. “You can’t do mean things and that was all mean.”

  He looks wounded. “I wanted her mad, so mad she’d lose her grip. I never meant a word of it.”

  “Well, it worked. She’s dead. I feel like we should celebrate and call all the villagers who are left alive.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Yes, and the munchkins, don't forget them. We will want singing at this celebration.”

  “Don't be cheeky. You have to admit, it feels good to be done.”

  Shane shakes his head. “We aren’t done, Aimes. We still have to kill Sam.”

  My guts burn at that thought. “I don't want to kill Sam. It’s Sam. He’s our brother. Now that she’s dead, maybe we simply need to fix him. Make him choose the light again.”

  Dorian’s eyes narrow. “Aimee, he’s the antichrist. How much Bible study did you manage?” He doesn't wait for my response. “We have to kill him and f
ree the world of his darkness. That's how it works. Ari, Lucas, and Ben are there now. They’re watching over him with Oliver—”

  He is interrupted by Lillith’s corpse moving. She shifts on the floor as if possessed. She flops onto her back, her chest rising like a string is attached from the ceiling to her. Her back is completely arched and her chest lifted half a foot from the ground. Her mouth opens as if strained and ripped apart by the force. She screams a black stream from her wrenched-open lips. It hovers on the ceiling like a rain cloud until it’s all there and her corpse is again limp on the floor. The black cloud moves, seemingly animated or controlled by something, to the window. Lorelei shoots magic at it but it dodges, like it read her thoughts and anticipated the move. It dives to a hole in the wall, leaving the house through it.

  We all stand in silence, completely frozen and stunned.

  Marcus offers a defeated look. “Well, I have to assume that whatever that was, we will be seeing it again.”

  Dorian adds slowly, “We always do.” His tone suggests he’s confused and lost. Suddenly Ari, Lucas, Ben, and Oliver arrive. They’ve winked as a group.

  Oliver’s eyes are wide, frightened even.

  Dorian squeezes his black eyes shut and moans, “Let me guess—a black cloud of creepy fog showed up and cast down on young Sam?”

  Ari blurts, “It crawled inside him like a parasite. It ripped into him, stretching him in an unnatural way.” Tears stream from her obsidian eyes. “He screamed and cried and begged for death,” she sobs, covering her face.

  Oliver, who was never attached enough to Sam, adds, “It was a freak show. I don't know what it was, but he was not the same afterward. He screamed and writhed and fought it, but it won. When it was over, he stopped and was very still. He was calm and peaceful suddenly. Then he started laughing but we winked at that point.”

  My heart is breaking, again and again and again.

  Dorian sighs in a way that is coated in defeat. When he speaks, his tone is heavy and thick with it. “Is it possible I just freed her from her body and made it so she can join forces with Sam, becoming the most powerful being on the planet? She’s a redeeming angel and a witch of the most powerful in the world type?”