I screamed.
The monster dove for me. I barely had time to blink before it landed on my chest. We crashed to the ground then slid across the tiled floor. My head slammed into the wall, and the monster’s face smashed into the mirror above me. Glass shattered and rained down on me. The monster groaned and shook its head.
RUN. I rolled to the side and crawled out from under it, then scrambled to my feet.
It was like a dream, where no matter how fast I kicked my legs I barely moved. I pushed and pushed, but the bathroom door was miles away. Something scalding hot wrapped around my ankle and yanked me backward. I screamed and threw my hands out in front of me, and the tiled floor shattered when I hit the ground with a thud. But I didn’t have a chance to react to the pain. The monster pulled me toward it, sliding me across the broken tiles.
I threw my hands out in front of me and tried to catch something.
The monster growled, and hot air rushed over my ankle. I looked over my shoulder and kicked it in the face. It flinched but didn’t move, so I kicked it again. And again. That orange ooze dripped out of its mouth and landed on my shoe. I smelled the burning rubber a second before sharp, searing hot pain shot through my foot. I screamed at the pain. The monster released my other foot. It must’ve thought it had me.
Not today, Satan. I flipped onto my back and bicycle-kicked it over and over until it stumbled. I scurried away, crawling backwards as fast as I could. I made it all the way down to the first stall when my victory ran short. The monster growled and leapt off the ground. It soared through the air, all ten of its arms reaching out for me. I had no weapon. All I could do was try to protect my vital organs…and scream like a banshee.
I pulled my legs up and covered my face and head with my hands. The monster landed right on top of me. The weight of its body pressed me into the tiles. It grabbed my arms with six of its hands and tried to yank them away. I pulled back. My arm muscles burned and screamed in protest. Its sharp talons sliced into my skin. I threw my hands out, and the monster flew backwards. It slammed into the far wall, and tiles broke off and crashed to the ground.
I jumped to my feet then sprinted toward the door. The walls swayed and the floor rumbled a split second before part of the ceiling caved in. The first stall door snapped off its hinges and slammed into me. I smacked my head on the floor then rolled. My vision blurred. The world spun. I coughed and tasted the coppery flavor of blood on my tongue. My heart pounded so fast I could barely get enough air in. Darkness started creeping in.
There was a roar, and then bright white light pierced my eyes— No wait, it wasn’t darkness; it was the sink. I’d rolled under the row of sinks. My stomach turned. My breakfast crept up my throat. I needed a weapon, something to fight with besides bare hands. I reached to my side without taking my eyes off the monster. My fingers hit some kind of cloth.
The monster lunged for me again. I grabbed the object and swung it upward, screaming as loud as I could. The monster flew back. The stall doors flattened. The sinks and toilets exploded, and water shot out like a broken dam. I glanced down at the thing in my hand—my backpack. I’d never been more relieved to have it on me.
Run! I listened to my instincts and scrambled to my feet. But the monster was pissed. It reared back and let out a roar like a dinosaur that made the ground shake like it was an earthquake. I stumbled and slammed into the wall, spotting something red—fire alarm. I knew water wouldn’t hurt this thing since there was plenty shooting across the bathroom, but I had to do something to warn everyone else. They had to get out of here. I pulled the lever, and a high-pitched squeal rang out.
The monster hissed and shook its head, then dove for me. I tried to make it to the door, but this thing was huge and fast. One of its hands grabbed me by the hair and yanked me back. I gasped. It spun me around, and I came face-to-face with its huge, gaping mouth of glowing orange lava. It hissed and lunged down like it was going to bite my face off. I threw my backpack up in front of me.
A cloud of pink mist shot out from the bag, and the monster screeched. Rainbow swirls wrapped around its face. The monster held me in the air with two of its arms, and the others clawed at the rainbow swirls. The pink cloud hovered around my arms, and it was freaking me out. I punched and thrashed, trying to break free of the monster’s hold when a stream of water shot right past my face. I screamed and wiggled, my arms free enough to swing my backpack up into its chin. Bright white light flashed. I flew backward and slammed into the tiled wall. I looked up just in time to see the monster slam into the ceiling, and then the world exploded around us in fire. Everything wobbled. The wall crumbled. Pink mist covered the floor like fog. Those rainbow swirls wrapped around the flames.
Something grabbed my arms and I screamed. But when I looked, it was Dean. My breath left me in a rush.
He pulled me to my feet then dragged me toward the door. I must’ve been fighting him because he grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “BETTINA! We have to go! NOW!”
My ears rang. My legs trembled. “But…that…monster…”
“It’s not dead, Bettina. We have to go!” Dean yanked the bathroom door open.
Crowds of students ran by screaming. He turned to me with big gray eyes. “Bettina, I called for backup to kill it. They’ll be here any second. But we have to go. You’re not trained for this yet.”
I opened my mouth to ask what he was talking about, but the crowd swallowed us whole.
Chapter Seven
BETTINA
“Dean, what…the hell…just happened?” I shouted between breaths. We were in his car, speeding away from school. “What was that?”
“A demon,” he said as he maneuvered through traffic.
I leaned over and braced myself on the dashboard. “WHAT? What do you mean a demon?”
Two firetrucks sped past us, followed by several police cars with sirens blaring. They were going to our school…because there had been an explosion in the bathroom. One I caused. My stomach turned.
He said something in a language I didn’t understand. I must’ve made a face because he shrugged. “It’s the ancient language. You’ll learn it soon.”
Panic bubbled to the surface. My breaths grew shorter and shorter. “Ancient. Language. Oh God. I’m losing my mind, aren’t I? Is it schizophrenia?”
“No, you’re not losing your mind.”
“Then explain that to me!” I gestured behind us toward the school. “What the hell is going on?”
“Where’d you get that backpack?” He pointed to my lap.
“Why?” I frowned and looked down. The burgundy backpack on my lap was burned and torn apart. It had holes where it looked like acid had eaten away at the material. Tears filled my eyes. “Damn it. This is Tegan’s. It’s a long story. I’ll never be able to replace it!”
He nodded. “I have a feeling she’ll understand,” he said softly.
I wasn’t as sure about— Hey! I glared at him. “Don’t change the subject! Explain this!”
He slammed on the brakes. “I’ll explain inside.”
What? But before I could ask, he’d jumped out of the car and was halfway up the driveway. My driveway. I blinked then shook myself. Go with him. I threw the door open and jumped out, then raced after him toward my front door. To my surprise, it opened without me needing to unlock it. Dean charged inside.
I groaned and sprinted to catch up. “Dean Hoover, you come back here right now and tell me what’s going—” I slid to a stop.
My parents were sitting on the couch, watching the door. My parents. Who were supposed to be at work on a Monday morning. A cold chill slithered down my spine. I looked at them, then over to Dean. Then back to my parents. They weren’t alarmed or concerned. Their faces were the perfect picture of calm.
My chest heaved as I tried to get enough oxygen. “What. Are. You. Doing. Home?”
My parents looked at each other.
“I called them on my way to school. I had a feeling something might happen,” Dean said s
oftly. He moved to stand behind the couch, then pushed his black glasses up his face. “Then once I realized a demon was on campus, I called them.”
I opened my mouth then shut it again. What?
“Bettina, why don’t you sit down,” Dean said softly.
“Why don’t you start talking!” I snapped and crossed my arms over my chest. “And don’t even think about telling me that was nothing, because I know what I saw!”
Dean sighed and leaned his hands on the back of the couch. “Cathy, Tim…it’s time.”
My mother closed her eyes and shook her head. My father reached over and took her hand in his. Neither would look at me. Dean just stared at them.
“Someone better start talking,” I growled.
“He’s right, Tim.” My mother nodded, then looked up at Dean. “It’s time.”
My father sighed nice and loud then leaned back against the couch. He looked utterly defeated. “Okay,” he whispered.
I shifted my weight around. My instincts were giving me that urge to run again. “Guys…”
“Bettina…” My mother licked her lips then looked up at me with big blue eyes. “You see…you’re…special.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “You’re a witch, Bettina.”
My eyes widened. “Come again?”
Dean held his palms up like he knew he sounded crazy. “Bettina, you are a witch.”
I scoffed. “I’m a witch? That’s all you’ve got? I’m a witch. Funny, you sound just like my US History class this morning.”
Dean frowned and cocked his head to the side. “They called you a witch—”
“Stop changing the subject!” I stomped my foot, and pain shot up my leg.
“He’s telling you the truth, sweetheart.” My father stood and walked over to me. Instead of hugging me, he urged me back and made me sit down on the other sofa. “We’ll tell you everything, but you need to sit. You’ve had quite a few days.”
“You are a witch, Bettina.” My mother pushed her blonde hair off her face.
My jaw dropped. “I’m a witch? So you’re telling me you’re both witches? This whole time and I never knew?”
My mother shook her head, and her eyes looked sad. “No, dear. Your father and I are not witches. Only you are.”
“If my parents aren’t witches, then how the hell am I?”
Dean shrugged. “It happens. All the time. Just means somewhere in your bloodline was a witch, who obviously mated with humans.”
I flinched. “Are you telling me I’m not human?”
Dean opened his mouth then shut it again. “I mean, partially, yes. But not entirely. It’s a complicated history that you’ll learn later.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m dreaming. I’m going to wake up and it’s Friday afternoon and none of this weekend happened.” I scrubbed my face. “This is insane.”
“Bettina, I know this sounds crazy, but—”
“Oh, you know that, huh?” I tried to get to my feet, but my legs gave out under me and I crashed back against the soft suede. “Okay, okay. Prove it.”
My parents looked startled.
Dean just nodded and walked around to sit beside me on the sofa. “I don’t personally know what this revelation feels like, because I’ve known I was a witch my whole life. But I’ve been present, just like I am now, for probably a hundred of these talks.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That isn’t proof.”
“First of all, you know this isn’t a dream because you experienced physical pain. And it hurt.” He held his finger up to stop me from asking a question. With his other hand, he pulled a small brown vial out of his denim jacket pocket. He uncapped it, then leaned forward. “Don’t freak. I’m proving it, okay?”
I eyed the vial suspiciously. “Okay…”
He tipped it, and a clear liquid poured out and onto my left arm. I braced myself for more pain…but it didn’t hurt. It was cool, but in a relieving kind of way. He’d poured it right over the spot where that demon’s talons had cut me. I watched in riveted, terrified silence as my wound closed. The cut was gone. Like it was never there at all.
My jaw dropped. I raised my arm up to my face and stared at the clear, unharmed skin. My heart pounded. “What in the actual—”
“Like I said, I’m a witch.” Dean chuckled and snapped his fingers, and a cloud of aquamarine mist swirled above his hand. “Is this proof enough?”
My eyes widened and I nodded. “Oh my God. Oh my God. I’m a witch? How did you know? Mom, Dad, how did you know? How did I not know?”
My mom smiled sweetly. “We’ve known since the moment you came into our lives.”
That wasn’t helpful. I turned to Dean. “Your turn, and it better be a good answer.”
“Witches can sense other witches. That’s the first thing you should know. So the moment you walked into the shelter, I felt it in your aura, then I just had to find out for sure.” Dean cracked his knuckles.
“Are there a lot of witches in the world?”
Dean’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, yeah. Thousands. Our species lives all around the world. In every major city you could think of, and then in the little ones, too.”
I frowned. “So is there like a witch king or something?”
He laughed in a short burst. “No. Again, long story, but we have what we call The Coven. There are twenty-two members, two of whom are elected as Coven Leaders. One woman, one male. Those two rule over the species, technically, though really the entire Coven is in charge.”
“Twenty-two?” I shivered. “Why so many?”
“Are you familiar with tarot cards?” he asked. When I nodded, he continued. “There are twenty-two major arcana. The tarot decks you find nowadays are based off of The Coven. Each Coven member is Marked with the roman numeral that coincides with a Card. Like Emperor, High Priestess, Empress, The Devil, The World… You follow me?”
I held my fingers up by my temples then flicked them away, while making an explosion sound. “Right, so this Coven of Cards rules over all witches? Are they the ones who told you I was a witch?”
He chuckled, though I couldn’t understand what was so funny about my question. “Surprisingly, no. I’m the one who figured out you were one of us.”
I groaned. “And how did you do that? This doesn’t make sense. How would you have even figured that out? Lots of people love magic stuff and witch shops, so don’t say that.”
“It was when you mentioned The Gathering.” Dean recapped his vial then shoved it into his pocket. “I saw my opening. You see, as you now know, that story is very, very true. There’s a whole history there that I won’t go into right now because it’s just way too much information. But…what you need to know is that The Coven supervises that party—and yes, they were there this year, and they did stop it.”
“Stop it? When? People died!” My stomach turned as the images flooded my mind.
“Actually, only a couple people were lost. The rest we saved.” Dean cleared his throat. “But anyways, because witches go there, we have our own parking lot. It’s tucked away, hidden from human sight. Literally. No human could get to this parking lot, even if they had a map that detailed the steps perfectly. Only a witch would find it.”
My breath left me in a rush. “A map. You gave me a map—”
“And you found that lot.” He shrugged. “When you got home and told me, I knew you had to be one of us. But see, sometimes, and especially when a witch has non-magic parents, the magic is dormant and needs to be drawn out. So, every year I host a party at my house.”
I gasped. “Oh my God. Friday night!” The puzzle pieces started coming together. I just needed him to say it for me.
“I make a potion with a spell that helps trigger suppressed magic. If a human drinks it, no harm, no foul. Might make them a little tipsy, like alcohol. So I give it to the whole party, then wait and see what witches come out from it. Like mining, but with witches.”
“You gave me the potion from the fridge, and you said it was
n’t spiked.”
“It wasn’t. It only had my potion in it. As opposed to the punch which had vodka in it.” Dean blushed and intentionally avoided my parents’ gazes. “Now, I always have other witches present for backup. This year, my friend Jackson—”
“Jackson is a witch?” I said before I could stop myself.
Dean chuckled. “Yeah, and so were the two guys with him. Warner and Trey. Anyway, they were there to watch you, to make sure you didn’t get hurt or hurt someone else. But somehow, in the few moments no one was watching, you decided to go play with a Ouija board.”
I threw my arms up and got to my feet, starting to pace. “I was trying to make friends. Besides, it was your game!”
“Exactly, Bettina. That was a witch’s Ouija board. That damn thing is two hundred years old. Only trained witches use those.” He shook his head. “Listen, I’m sorry. That was my fault. I shouldn’t have taken my eyes off of you.”
I grumbled and paced my living room. It was his fault. I should’ve been furious at him for putting me in danger. Twice. He could’ve just told me I was a witch, like he just had. But the truth was, I probably wouldn’t have believed him. The only reason I was having a panic attack right now was because…well…it was actually a relief.
Everything that had happened to me now had a reason. I wasn’t losing my mind. It wasn’t terrifying— Okay, it’s still terrifying. Yet, somehow knowing there was an explanation for it all made it easier to accept. That Gathering horror wasn’t some scary movie gone wrong. Spirits from the underworld weren’t drawn to me—I’d summoned it on accident. Because I was a witch.
I’m a witch.
I…am a witch.
I froze and let that sink in for a second. “And that demon today?”
“There are all kinds of demons in the world. Our species has been killing them for thousands of years. They happen to be drawn to magic, so like when a witch blows up a room with her magic…”
The Coven - Academy Magic Complete Series Page 5