“Of course,” she says. As I turn to walk away, she continues, “Just so you know, I’ve locked the mirror in your room. We don’t want any nefarious creatures to sneak in when you aren’t watching.”
I do my best to hide a grimace. I didn’t realize I was coming back to a prison.
“What if I need to visit my mama?” I ask.
“Just let me know and you can use the mirror in my office,” she says.
“Of course,” I say. Then I give her a nod and head to my room, shutting—and locking—the door behind me.
“If she thinks she can keep me locked up, she has another thing coming,” I say to the pink dinosaur on Zoey’s bed.
I toss my bag onto my own bed and unpack. This is not the first time I have packed and unpacked my bag here at La Voisin. I need to stop thinking I can run away from the problems here.
I’m going to stay at La Voisin no matter how much I might want to leave.
I was alone when I came here, but I’m not alone anymore. I have to think about Zoey, Giselle, Ivy, Krista, the statue man, and even Jaxon.
Giselle is dead. I can’t save her. But I can finish what she started.
Help me, help Zoey.
I have to believe that Zoey is still alive. That she is somewhere. If I leave, there will be no one to rescue her.
Ivy and Krista have been there for me from my first days at La Voisin—but I didn’t even say goodbye to them when I left today. I’ve been a bad friend to them. I need to do better.
The statue man—perhaps all of the statues—need help. If I leave, I’ll never know why, and they might stay trapped forever.
And Jaxon…
Oh, I don’t even know where to begin with him. My emotions swing back and forth like a pendulum when it comes to that man. And yet, I’m interested to see where things go with him. I miss Beau so much, even now, but Jaxon has shown me that I can feel again…maybe even love again. Someday. And maybe those ‘off’ feelings I was having earlier were just guilt. I should give him a chance. Give us a chance.
When I’m finished unpacking, the only thing left in my bag is the kit Gillian gave me. I remove all the items and set them out before me with the handy instruction pamphlet.
I find a brown leather bag inscribed with symbols I don’t understand. There are also a variety of herbs, animal parts—ew!—crystals, some kind of ancient coin, a long red string, and salt.
According to the instructions, I have to spread the salt out around me. Then I add the herbs, animal parts, crystals, and coin to the bag. I also have to add an item of personal significance.
I look around the room, wondering what I should add. I don’t really have many personal items here. Then I remember Giselle’s notebook and the picture of my statue man. I get up, open the notebook, and tear a small bit from the drawing. It might not be my notebook, but it was what really set me off on this journey. It means something to me symbolically, and when it comes to witchcraft, symbols mean everything.
I add the paper to the bag. Then I have to use the string to tie the bag closed. I wrap the string around the neck of the bag three times and then knot it so it can’t be opened without cutting it. Afterward, I lick my thumb and draw the triple moon symbol on the bag. Finally, I light the candle.
The candle is tall and fat with a wooden wick that sputters and crackles as it burns. It also lets off more smoke than a typical candle. I wave the bag over the candle through the smoke to “wake up” the bag. As I do, I watch the smoke, looking for any images or symbols that might mean something to me.
The smoke wafts toward me, making my eyes water, and I sneeze. When I open my eyes, I’m not in my room anymore. Well, it’s still my room, but it looks different. Old-fashioned.
“Not again,” I mumble to myself, not looking forward to being chased by a bunch of old-timey witches with pitchforks. My mojo bag and the candle are gone, so I have no idea how I am supposed to get back, so I sit and wait. I’ll have to wake up eventually, right?
After a minute or so, the door to the room opens with a creak. My eyes go wide, expecting someone to enter. But no one does. The hallway is dark and quiet.
“Okay, that’s a little freaky,” I whisper to myself. The only thing I can figure is that the…dream? Vision? Time travel? Whatever is going on, I can only suspect I’m supposed to go through the door.
I force myself to my feet and stick my head out into the hall. Still, I hear and see no one. I step out and take a few tentative steps toward the stairs.
I have no idea what’s going on or why. I’ve definitely been here before. But there’s no one here. It’s dark, like all the lights are off and the sky outside is cloudy. It’s as though I can feel that I am the only person in the world.
I walk down the stairs, my footsteps echoing heavily on the wooden steps in the empty house. When I reach the main floor, I find a side door that’s been left open, lightly swaying in the gentle breeze. Outside, the sky is overcast, but it doesn’t look ominous.
A gust of wind brushes my face, and I turn away to keep from getting any dust in my eyes. When I open my eyes again, I can see the grotto all the way from here. But it’s far less grotto-like. It’s not overgrown with weeds and ivy. I can see the Grecian-style building in all its white stone glory, and I head toward it.
When I step inside the grotto, the statue man is there, waiting, his back to me. This doesn’t surprise me since I’ve seen him here before. He turns to me and smiles, and I feel warmth and butterflies in my stomach at the sight of those pearly whites and kind eyes. Eyes I can’t see in his statue form.
“Hello, Madison,” he says, and my breath hitches in my throat.
This is the part where I usually wake up. But I don’t. For once, I stay right here.
“Hi,” I manage to say back, my eyes filling with tears at the chance to finally get to speak to him.
“My name is Damon,” he says. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Continue reading with Academy of the Damned Book 3: Crown of Blood.
About the Author
Veronica Shade writes fast-paced young adult and new adult paranormal romance reads. When she's not busy writing about snarky heroines and darkly dreaming vampires, she spends her time binge-watching Game of Thrones and reruns of Firefly, playing with her cats, or gaming.
Her love for writing comes second only to her love of reading. If you like her books, she recommends you also check out Bella Forrest, Kiera Cass, and Cassandra Clare.
The Veronica Shade pen name is a joint-venture persona of authors Rebecca Hamilton, Heather Marie Adkins, April Canavan, Anna Applegate, and Leigh Anderson.
Ritual of Magic (Academy of the Damned Book 2) Page 22