Excerpt of Lion Lord’s Kiss
Jay was feeling uncharacteristically restless this morning. He had slept poorly and awakened early with a pounding headache, courtesy of a long flight and a case of jet lag. He had showered and donned his human camouflage, a Hugo Boss suit tailored to his muscular, six foot four inch frame. Nothing could truly make him blend in here though. His obvious height, broad shoulders, and handsome face were only a part of what caught people’s attention. Less obvious, but more compelling, was the way he moved: like an arrogant predator among sheep, supremely confident in his ability to master anything under his golden gaze.
Now here he was, pacing with the nervous energy of a caged animal, his long strides carrying him back and forth in front of the large window overlooking the city. It was almost two hours before his meeting so Jay decided to walk the ten blocks or so to the office building where his meeting was to take place. Hopefully he would be able to sit still through what promised to be a tedious morning and afternoon.
He stepped past the doorman dutifully holding the door for him to exit, and stopped to get his bearings just short of the stream of humanity bustling passed on the sidewalk. The sheer volume of people, the noise, and odor of vehicle exhaust threatened to overwhelm him. He had an animal’s inherent mistrust of anything that drowned out the senses he depended on for survival. Once he felt like he had a handle on the sensory input, he joined the river of people heading the direction he needed to go. There was nothing outwardly threatening about him, but even in the crush of New York City pedestrian traffic, people unconsciously allowed him extra space, a small buffer between themselves and the man who seemed to radiate an aura that repelled casual touch.
Jay strode along the streets of New York, carried about by the flow of the crowd, in no real hurry to get to his destination. He had plenty of time to take in the sights of the morning commuter crush: the blaring horns from the traffic, the people engrossed in their phone conversations, or just staring mindlessly at their smart phones, totally unaware of their surroundings. The one thing he did enjoy was the smell of exotic foods coming from small eateries and carts spaced out along the streets. They reminded him of the fact that he had left the apartment with an empty stomach and it took a lot of food to fuel an animal his size. He was only a couple of blocks from his destination and still had some time to kill, so he decided to find something to quell the gnawing in his belly.
He scanned the small establishments that catered to the on-the-go crowds and chose a bagel shop based on the pleasant aromas wafting through its door. As he entered, he breathed deeply of the smell of coffee and baked goods. Stepping into the long, but swiftly moving line of people awaiting their turn at the counter, his eyes fell upon the woman at the front of the line. She was tall for a woman, dressed in a form fitting skirt that did nothing to hide the fact that she had a gloriously shapely backside. The fall of her rich, auburn hair reached nearly to the nip of her waist, accentuating her hourglass shape. If there was one thing he had a real weakness for, it was a woman with soft curves and a lush figure, and from behind, this woman fit that bill perfectly. As she turned toward him, juggling her purse, a cup of coffee, and a pastry, he noticed that the view from the front was excellent also. He appraised her from the floor up, her gloriously lush thighs, the generous swell of her hips, and good god, those breasts! He ached to feel the weight of them in his hands. What really stopped his heart though, were her eyes. They were watching him with frank amusement at his not so subtle appreciation of her figure. If he had not been so stunned, he would have thought to feel chagrin for being caught so obviously ogling, like someone’s lost village idiot. As she passed him, headed for the door, he couldn’t help but avidly watch her progress. She paused in the doorway, turned, and flashed him a sunny smile. She stood there just long enough for him to think to himself, “Go after her, you idiot!”, when she was suddenly jerked through the door with a loud yelp.
That broke his paralysis, and he leapt for the door after her, jerking it open on to a scene that momentarily baffled him. She was standing on the sidewalk clutching the straps of her purse with her left hand and thoroughly beating the piss out of a man who was desperately clinging to the rest of her purse. He wasn’t a large man at all, barely five foot seven, and scrawny. He had chosen his victim poorly, as she outweighed him by a good forty pounds, and obviously was not going down without a fight.
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Paranormal Academy, Elite Deceit
Prologue
mon’-ster, n. 1. A being with genetic abnormalities that match partially, but does not fully replicate a human’s genetic code. 2. Not human…’ (2200 Edition of Doxynn’s Dictionary for Dummies).
I look human (most of the time) and follow human codes and laws. What does that make me other than human? Well, according to the world’s 94.53% of fully genetic humans, because my DNA holds a minor inconsistency, it makes me a monster.
Chapter 1
I am one of the lucky ones. Most gifted people, most commonly known as monsters, are killed as soon as they come of age. It is a human’s legal right to kill a marked individual on sight. When I was young, as with the majority of my classmates, I was brought to a magically protected boarding school—Edmund’s Academy for the Gifted. Humans are pinged across the world if they attempt to infiltrate, and the gifted with malevolent intentions are sent back from where they had come. As long as they enter the academy with pure intentions, they can stay, even if those intents change.
As a student, I am safe.
At the age of nineteen, we gain a marking on our backs. It’s when the gifted become fully grown and legally able to be killed. To us, the marks are simply overdue birthmarks. They are different for everyone. They map out the destiny of their inhabitants, yet can be seen by anyone other than the wearer. After all, it is forbidden to know your calling unless deemed necessary by a prophet. Others are able to see pieces of the marking, but no one person can decipher the entire thing.
I turn nineteen years old in six minutes.
“What do you think your marking will say?” Coral asks from the bunk above mine. Her long red waves run down the side of our bed, and her excited voice energizes me. I am jittering from the anticipation of receiving my mark. What will the marking feel like? Will I feel an entirely new sense of importance once I am officially marked? I keep my eyes glued to the clock on the other side of the room.
“I don’t know. Do you think it will hurt?” I ask nervously. I was born at 4:36 PM on July 2, 2197, and I have been waiting for this moment my entire life.
“It shouldn’t. I call being the first to see,” she squeaks. I don’t allow my eyes to veer in Coral’s direction, but her hair disappears from my peripheral vision and I hear her walking around the room. Most people don’t have their best friend to comfort them while they receive their marks.
“What if I don’t have a great destiny?” I ask, biting my bottom lip. I pull my bleach blond hair over my shoulder and allow it to fall down my right side.
“Snow,” Coral starts, “your destiny is bound to be important. You are the only Elite mermaid in the academy.” I sigh and look away from the clock. Coral’s hair is the first thing that catches my attention, which is not unusual in any way. The mermaid warfare professor calls her Ariel, which is the name of an old movie character from the early 2000s. None of the students in the academy have lived nearly long enough to watch the film. All of the movies that gave monsters a positive connotation were destroyed. The average lifespan of a mermaid is about 300 years, so some of the professors were around to see the movies before their downfall.
“Being Elite means nothing,” I argue. It is simply the status a person gains if they are the leading individual in their species. They must have good scores in academics, battlefield strategy, ability control, and defense tactics. I just happen to have the best scores in each of the categories. Coral and I
are both exceptional at controlling our abilities, so we room together.
“It means everything. You have more opportunities than any of us. We are all forced into the human world after graduation, but you can stay here forever because you’re an Elite,” Coral says. I nod and look back at the clock. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. “It’s time,” she says.
I feel a slight burning sensation ease up my back slowly, starting just above my coccyx and widening as it slides up my back. The sensation is unlike anything I’ve ever felt and it fills me with purpose. It continues for less than a minute before stopping at my shoulder blades. My entire back is covered and I run to our full-length body mirror. I turn and pull my shirt over my shoulders before looking into the mirror.
I see only tanned skin. “Is it there?” I ask.
She clears her throat, and I monitor her every expression through the mirror. Her eyes widen and she rushes forward. “It’s there,” she murmurs. I grin from ear to ear and attempt to decipher her shocked expression. She can only see a small portion of my prophecy, but what she’s seeing is causing her face to spasm with multiple different emotions.
“What is it? What do you see?” I ask.
She smiles and shakes her head. “Being Elite definitely means something,” she says with a smile. We both know that it is against the rules to divulge another person’s destiny, but I can tell by her mere facial expressions that she saw something important.
A scream echoes through the corridor loudly and my attention flies to the door of our room. Coral looks at me curiously and I do the same. I throw my shirt over my head before running from my room with Coral on my tail.
The hallway is crowded with curious teenagers of all different origins. A few pixies float through the air and the magicians stand in the front of the crowd. Vampires make up the majority of the group. There are more vampires than any other species at the academy. A few mermaids are in the hallway, speaking among themselves curiously.
It’s odd to have so many different species gathered around when we are usually separate. We have classes with our own kind and avoid other groups the majority of the time. I try to push myself to the front of the crowd in general curiosity. Coral leads, but I am grabbed from behind and pulled backward quickly. I don’t struggle against the grip of the person. Once I am in the back of the crowd, I am met with the calculated silver eyes of the academy’s Headmaster.
“Miss. Annesley,” he greets me, “I have an important matter we need to discuss.”
Chapter 2
On the way to the Headmaster’s office, I can’t help but wonder what had happened. He walks silently and I follow closely. When we arrive, I am ordered to sit. “Snow Annesley, it looks like you have killed your roommate,” he says with a firm, unreadable tone.
I gasp and stand, ready to defend myself. “No, that’s impossible. I was waiting in my room with Coral. I received my mark and she saw it. Jasmine,” I begin, thinking about where my second roommate had gone. “Jasmine went to get an early dinner,” I recall. I look at the Headmaster in surprise, coming to a shocking revelation.
“That’s right,” he begins, “she was killed. She drowned in the dining hall, but there is no water near her and she is in her human form.” I look at my feet and take a seat. Jasmine was also a mermaid, so the only way to drown her is to ensure she doesn’t shift forms, and only someone with extremely advanced abilities would be able to kill a mermaid with water.
If even a drop of the liquid were to have fallen on her skin, she would have transformed into her fishlike form. If she had gotten wet, she would have been able to breathe both water and air, making it impossible to drown her. As a mermaid, we are able to control water and weather elements, so in theory, an exceptional mermaid should be able to use someone’s internal body fluids to drown them. After all, a human is roughly sixty percent water and a mermaid is eighty percent.
Out of everyone, I am the only person in the school that should be able to accomplish such a thing.
“Sir, I would never kill someone. You have to believe me,” I beg. I can’t bring myself to harm a fish, let alone a person.
“A month ago, a vampire was killed. His head was torn from his shoulders, and the only person strong enough to tear off a vampire’s head is another vampire. The Elite was framed. A week ago, a shaman was killed by a horde of angry spirits, and the only person able to do so is the Elite. Do you see a pattern, Miss. Annesley?” I stare into his silver eyes for a moment and nod.
“Or an assassin,” I whisper.
“Precisely my point. If the assassin were a magician, he would have access to the spells necessary to kill his classmates and frame the Elites,” the Headmaster says. He is a powerful magician, so he knows exactly what can be accomplished with a spell book.
Magicians can achieve almost anything with their books, but if they are also an assassin, they are far more powerful, thus able to mimic the abilities of another species. If we are dealing with an assassin who is a magician, it will be exceedingly difficult to find the party responsible—especially if the magician is being controlled by another creature.
Assassins can be any species, but they must be bound to a master. A magician ties the two together and the assassin becomes invincible. The assassin is then forced to obey every command of his master. He becomes mindlessly enslaved. We have a few known assassins in the school. Their masters are all intelligent, level-headed individuals, but it appears that one pair has gone rogue.
“Can’t you just evaluate each pair and find out who is committing the crimes. You know that the assassin must be a magician,” I say.
“That is the problem. No known assassins are magicians, and this one is covering his tracks very well,” he says.
“What would you like me to do?” I ask, knowing that I was not brought to his office for a mere discussion.
“This problem is much larger than just you, Miss. Annesley,” he says. “I am enlisting the help of each of my Elites.”
“Do you mean the Elites from each species?” I ask, realizing what that means. I will be working alongside people I have never attempted to associate with. How does he expect us to get along? None of the species hold any form of respect toward one another. We can tolerate each other, but people from different species have never gotten along well. We habitually remain with our own cliques.
“Yes, the Elites from each species,” he says, “but before they arrive, there is an urgent matter we must discuss.” I nod for him to continue, still shocked that I will be working alongside so many different people. “When you become marked, you have the right to any of the items you were left with as a child,” he states, pulling a sealed envelope from the table beside him.
I feel an overwhelming sense of betrayal and shake my head. My parents left me at the doorstep of the school as a newborn and never came back. I don’t want the letter they had left. “Keep it,” I say. I feel nothing but spite toward my long-lost family.
“After your assignment you may change your mind,” he says with a knowing smile.
The door to his office opens with a creak and a line of students step through. I don’t recognize any of them, but I know immediately who they are.
“Hello,” the Headmaster greets each of them with a smile. “Please, take a seat,” he says, signaling to the couch. I don’t make eye contact with any of the students as they take their seats, each spaced out enough to avoid contact. In total, there are six individuals seated around me. I am the only mermaid.
“Why are we here, sir,” a loud, graveling voice asks from the end of the couch. I can’t help but veer my attention in the direction of the guy. I gasp when I take notice of his appearance. He is handsome in a rough, unkempt way. His charcoal hair falls past his ears in a mess of waves and his sharp jaw looks as if it is forged from stone. I can tell from his pale skin and thin build that he is a vampire, but his lack of muscle is deceiving. Vampires are abnormally strong creatures.
“Mr. Lancaster, you know exactly why y
ou are here,” the Headmaster states cryptically. “As for the rest of you, I will explain.”
He explains that people have been murdered and the Elites have been framed for each of the killings. He goes on with a long explanation, blaming an assassin duo for the shenanigans. “But with you six, I have the utmost confidence we can catch this killer,” he says.
“What do we need to do?” The vampire asks, cutting straight to the point.
“I need five of you to leave the academy and gather the ingredients necessary for a tracking spell. The Elite magician,” he looks at the magician beside me, “will stay here and set up the spell.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?” A girl beside the vampire asks. Her shrill, whiny voice indicates that she is a pixie. They are very innocent creatures, but the kindest of everyone. Of all the species, fairies have the most diverse friend groups.
“It is extremely dangerous but very necessary. Do you all accept the proposition?” The Headmaster asks. Nobody protests, knowing that this is the reason behind our intense training. We have been taught to fear the outside world, yet we are all eager to experience it from outside the academy walls. “Great. Let’s get started.”
Chapter 3
We are each given a means to hide our true selves and blend into human societies. What we wear is disgusting and inhumane. I wonder why it is necessary. Is it common for people to dress in such filthy clothing? We are given the proper clothing and sent to a group dressing room to change. In the midst of changing, I notice the vampire’s eyes locked on my marking, but ignore him completely. We must learn to coexist with one another, and scolding him for looking at my marking is no way to make a friend.
Once we are wearing our intentionally soiled clothing and back inside the Headmaster’s office, the Elite magician gives us each a list of ingredients we need to fetch. He appears to be uptight and unfriendly with his round glasses and immaculate posture. He looks down his nose at each of us as though we are here simply to serve him. “It is exceedingly important that you get each of these components,” the magician says. “Locater spells are challenging and I need each of these ingredients to get it right.”
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