Second Chance Soul: a paranormal reverse harem steamy slow burn academy adventure (Second Chance Academy Book 2)

by Ella J. Smyth

  I nodded. "It must be important if it was hidden here."

  Lillian. I wonder if that's what the men were looking for. Slug sat next to me, completely calm now that his stupid mistress had figured out what he'd been trying to show her for weeks. He licked his injured paw while staring at me with an irritated expression. Clearly, I was anthropomorphizing him, but if he were human, he would have said, "How slow are you? Haven't I done everything I could to lead you to it?"

  I bent down and patted his head. "You're right, buster. Thanks for showing this to me. You'll get an extra tuna pouch tonight."

  On cue, he barfed. Then he strode off, his little cat tush swaying left and right, as if he couldn’t care less about his reward. Even though I knew the moment I tore the plastic bag open, he'd be sitting there, panting for the soft fish paste. I shook my head, grinning, as I watched him disappear with an elegant jump into an open window.

  Beth murmured, "He's the weirdest cat I've ever seen. Seriously, where does he get all the attitude from? Are all familiars like that?"

  I shrugged. There were only two people at the academy who knew the truth about Slug. One was Ms. Farkas, and the other Mr. Odwell. Neither had ever said anything about my cat not being a familiar. But when somebody had poisoned Slug before Christmas, I'd gotten the distinct impression they knew.

  And yet they'd kept their mouths shut. No student was allowed to keep pets, but exceptions were made for familiars. So I was happy to allow everybody to think what they wanted. As long as I could keep Slug with me.

  Quickly changing the topic, I said, "Hey, wanna come to the library and see what's here?"

  None of us had access to computers or laptops. But most kids had passwords that allowed them to login to the library system and use their terminals. Because I wasn't here, let's say voluntarily, I didn’t qualify. But Beth did.

  At the library, we made a beeline to the only free PC. Beth powered it up, while I waited impatiently to see what was on the stick. Finally, the old computer was ready. I inserted the stick and waited.

  The display showed 128 gigabyte. But then the purple indicator line expanded and expanded. One megabyte. Eight megabytes. It finished at one terabyte.

  "Definitely augmented," Beth murmured. There were several documents, but also audio and video files. She turned the volume to zero since neither one of us had any headphones. Then she pressed play on the first video.

  38

  At first, there was only a granular black background, as if the video had been taken by a cheap camera in bad light. Then, two men entered the frame, dragging somebody who wasn't moving. The man was hanging between them, their shoes dragging on the ground. I moved closer until my nose nearly touched the screen. There was something familiar about the person.

  The men stopped in front of a door and pushed a button. As the door opened, and they dragged the unconscious person inside, they turned slightly. And there it was. I recognized the two goons and the kid they'd tased many months ago. There was a date stamp, February 10th, in the corner of the screen. Several weeks after Ms. Farkas had told me that Matt was in rehab.

  This doesn't look like he is being cared for. At all. What medical facility would allow their patient to be dragged around like this? My hand shook as I took the mouse and opened the next file on the list. It was a short message, maybe an email, in text format.

  "We were able to deliver the remaining forty percent, as contracted, after the extraction procedure. Sixty percent of the assets did not meet the requirements and were terminated. This is an increase of five percent compared to the last quarter.

  "I understand that the remaining assets were downgraded to level two. We apologize for this and assure Your Majesty that any future deliveries will meet your stringent requirement. Please find attached a list of targets."

  The file was dated to the day just before Lillian had disappeared. What the hell was going on? There were no names, no references other than the cryptic mention of a royalty. Beth's eyes were narrowed as she read the text again.

  I asked her, "Any ideas what this is about?"

  She shook her head. "None. What are assets? What's an extraction? And who is Your Majesty? Maybe they’re notes for an assignment?"

  "I don't know," I said slowly. If it were just homework or a creative writing exercise, why would it have been hidden in plain sight, using an illusion spell? And the date of the file was somehow connected to Lillian's disappearance. I felt it in my bones. Determinedly, I clicked on the next file. "Let's see what else is here."

  The file opened as a video. This one was from the inside of what looked like a medical laboratory. A girl, younger than me, sat in a chair, her hands tied to the armrests with straps. In front of her was a spinning ball of energy so bright, it distorted the image. I couldn't see her face because the film had been overexposed due to the strong light.

  There were people behind her, some seeming to hold PDAs, but again, I couldn't recognize any faces. What I did see made my blood chill. The energy ball changed color to a dark purple and then sent tendrils toward the girl's head and core. When it attached, her body froze, then curved backwards. Her hands spasmed around the armrests, and her entire body twitched as if hit by electricity.

  The tendrils pulsed as the ball grew stronger. Beth and I watched the images in utter horror. The girl struggled and screamed. We couldn't hear her agony, but the way she moved and her mouth gaped left no doubt about how she was suffering. Her convulsions grew weaker and weaker, and the energy ball pulsed slower and slower, until with a final burst, the threads separated from the girl in the chair.

  She stayed upright for another moment before sagging forward. Her head didn't collapse to her chest but rolled sideways. Her eyes stared at the camera. Vacant, broken, dead eyes.

  "Is she... Did she... die?" Beth whispered, her voice choking on the last word. Tears ran down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around herself.

  I swallowed hard. "I don't know," I lied. There was no way the girl was still alive. We'd just watched a snuff movie. I hugged Beth, who sobbed softly.

  The old librarian called from the front desk, "Are you okay, ladies?"

  I remembered he was an empath. He was able to feel our sorrow and horror. "Yes, sir. My friend's dad died recently. She's upset."

  That was the only explanation I could give. Any more words, and I would have broken down as well.

  The librarian nodded and said, "I'm so sorry for your loss. Please accept my condolences. Can I do anything?"

  Beth shook her head and burrowed deeper into my shoulder. I felt bad for using her recent loss to cover for our shock, but I suddenly had the awful sense that watching the video had put both of us in mortal danger. And I had no clue who from.

  After making sure we'd closed down all the files, we walked back to our room. We didn't speak. The shock of seeing the girl die right in front of our eyes—and there was no doubt in my mind that that was what had happened—had spread like cold molasses through my body.

  When I sat on my bed, Beth joined me. "I don't want to be alone right now," she whispered.

  I nodded and pulled her closer. I needed the comfort just as much.

  "We never looked for the list."

  I lifted my head away from Beth's hair. "What do you mean?"

  "The text mentioned a list. We never looked for it."

  She is right. That list might give us a big clue, like who’s a target. Maybe even who’s involved.

  "We'll go back tomorrow and look it up." My stomach clenched at the thought of what else I might discover. Would Lillian's name be on it? What about names of people I cared for? Kiernan. Julian. Lance. Beth. Even Sharon.

  And what about Kenzy? I shuddered. Kenzy was gone, and the excuse she'd left hadn't rung true from the moment I'd heard it. What if...? I couldn’t even think it, never mind say it out loud.

  39

  The next day, I was up extra early to visit Julian. He would likely be released soon, Kiernan had said. Walking to the in
firmary wing, I inhaled deeply. The air was crisp and scented with the perfume of lilac. Somehow, between last week and today, spring had beaten back winter.

  The campus was empty, and the only sounds were the chirps of birds flitting overhead and the faint buzzing of a chainsaw in the forest behind the academy building. The world seemed at peace and full of potential. For a few minutes, I was able to forget about the video I’d watched with Beth the day before.

  I carried my smile into the hospital ward, past the nurse who was about to start her shift. She waved me through to Julian’s room. And that’s when it all went to hell.

  Julian stood next to his bed, placing his few belongings into a plastic bag. His drip had been removed, and he looked a whole lot better.

  “Good morning,” I said, ready to walk into his embrace. Instead, he backed away. I stopped, confused and a little hurt. “Oh, are you still sore? I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

  Julian’s face had lit up when I’d entered the room, but now his expression turned sad. I swallowed. Something was very wrong.

  “Julian?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “What’s going on?”

  “Sit down.” He pointed to his hospital bed. “We need to talk.”

  Oh, no. Nothing good ever comes from those words. I sat down wordlessly and waited, a heavy lump growing in my stomach. Julian joined me, but he made sure to keep a few feet between us. I felt like something was squeezing my heart.

  Then he spoke. “I nearly died.”

  “But you’re okay now?”

  “Yeah. But the healer told me this could happen again, and maybe they wouldn’t get to me in time.”

  My eyes filled with tears. I rubbed them impatiently. “So you’re breaking up with me?”

  He stared at his hands. “I don’t want to. But it’s not safe. Mr. Odwell checked the protection bags and said they should have worked. He doesn’t know why they didn’t. So until he and Mrs. Palmer figure it out, they told me no physical contact with you.”

  “That sucks,” I whispered. “But why do we have to break up? Can’t we just be together, anyway? We don’t have to have sex or anything. We could just… I don’t know—”

  “—talk?” Julian laughed bitterly. “Sorry, but I can’t do that. I can’t be near you, yet not touch you. That’s asking too much.”

  I stared at him. “So what? If you can’t sleep with me, you’re not interested in me?”

  I got up, my temper rising. “I didn’t take you for that kind of asshole. Looks like I was wrong. I’ll leave you to it, since apparently you can’t control yourself around me.”

  Julian looked so miserable, I would have felt sorry for him if I hadn’t been so pissed. Slamming the door shut, I stormed away from his room, my mind reeling with anger. What a dick. What a useless, disgusting piece of—

  “Whoa, watch it. Where’re you going, sweetheart?” Kiernan caught me by the shoulders before I collided with him. I twisted to get out of his grip and tried to pass him in the narrow hallway. He wasn’t having any of it. One look at my face, and he pulled me tightly against his chest.

  “What’s going on? Why are you so upset?”

  I clung to his shoulders and burst into tears. Kiernan held me, whispering reassurances, until I calmed down.

  “I’ve got you,” he murmured. That set me off again. Because I’d thought Julian had my back as well. Apparently, I’d been wrong. So wrong.

  When my tears had stopped, and I’d calmed down, Kiernan wiped my eyes with his sleeve.

  “Don’t you have a tissue or something?” I grumbled.

  “Do you?”

  “No.”

  Kiernan chuckled. “Then you’re not in a position to complain. Now tell me what’s going on.”

  I told him. Kiernan listened. When I was done, he kissed me. It was just a peck on the lips, but it was what I needed.

  “Do you want me to talk to him?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “You realize he’s terrified if it happens again, he won’t make it? The first time, he was out for a while, and the second time, he ended up in the infirmary. You’ve got to give him some time to process.”

  “But he said he only wanted me for sex.”

  Kiernan lifted my chin. “Is that actually what he said?”

  I thought back, then shook my head. “No, not in so many words.”

  “Give him time, acushla. He’s scared and still recovering.

  “What about you and Lance? Are you going to run as well?” I asked. My voice sounded tired and sad.

  Kiernan kissed me again, chastely. “No. We’ll stay with you. But…”

  Here it comes. I steeled myself, tears ready to spill again.

  Kiernan pinched my arm. “Stop assuming the worst, Amber. For feck’s sake, you’re as dramatic as the Goth string bean in the room over there.”

  When I didn’t respond, he continued, “But it’s probably a bad idea to get physical until we know what’s going on. I’m having a chat with Mrs. Palmer tomorrow. The drain seemed to have affected all of us differently. Julian slipped into a coma, you and Lance were knackered, and I’m feeling on top of the world. Something is up, and we’re trying to get to the bottom of it.”

  I nodded. He wasn’t wrong. And then I remembered the damn USB-stick I hadn’t told anybody about yet. If only today was already over. Between being dumped by that self-righteous ass over there—I threw a dark look at Julian’s closed door at the other side of the hallway—and having to sit through seven hours of classes, it would be a long day.

  By lunch time, I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to see what else was on the stick. My stomach twisted into knots, and there was no way I’d be able to eat. I waved at Kiernan and Lance and rushed back to my room.

  Slug was asleep on my bed as usual, and after a cursory stroke of his head, I pulled the USB drive from underneath my mattress and ran to the library.

  I picked the PC farthest away from the front desk, used Beth’s password to turn it on, and connected the drive. Staring at the screen, I wasn’t exactly sure what to look for. The text had mentioned a list. Would it be in a format I recognized? I scanned the list of filenames but couldn’t find anything that might be a list.

  I leaned back in my chair and thought. A list doesn’t have to be a list. It could be a photograph of a list. I sorted the directory by file type, and there it was. An image file called “Potential Assets.”

  Steeling myself, I double-clicked it. A photograph opened, displaying a list of at least forty names. The format was last name, first name in alphabetical order with an additional column for comments and numbers.

  I looked over my shoulder to make sure I was alone, magnified the image, and ran my finger down the list. When I was done, I shut down the file and leaned back.

  My stomach felt like I’d swallowed rocks. My hands had gone sweaty and cold, and I felt dizzy. There had been so many names I recognized. Lillian’s was on there. Next to her name had been the word “deceased.”

  The next column had read, “20d.” Maybe the number of days she survived? Matt had survived for thirty days, but was also tagged as deceased. Kenzy was on the list. Her number was twelve without a tag next to her name.

  There was one file I hadn’t checked yet. It was a pdf, dated only two days ago. A shiver ran down my back when I realized what that meant. Somebody in the academy had hidden the USB stick on the pile of discarded bricks and used a glamor to hide it. But Slug had been scratching at the bricks over and over again, so I had to assume somebody was updating the stick and returning it to its hiding place.

  I needed to get it back before they noticed it was missing. If it wasn’t already too late. Sweat broke out on the back of my neck and under my arms. My hand trembled as I clicked the final file.

  The pdf contained another list, entitled, “Potential Targets.” My gaze traveled halfway down the list, as if drawn by a magnet. “Whitman, Amber.” Jesus Christ. I kind of had expected it, but seeing it in fro
nt of me freaked me out so badly, I could barely focus on reading the information next to my name.

  There was another entry next to my name. “Prime target. Lightning power? Tbc. HRH suggests waiting until fully developed.”

  Who the fuck is HRH? And why weren’t they sure about my lightning power? Mrs. Palmer’s words resounded in my mind. Drawing attention to your primary power will put you in danger within the academy.

  Was that what she was talking about? I scrolled further down. There were more names I recognized. Luke. Kiernan. Julian. Lance. Each of them had a note next to their entry: “Under observation.” I kept scrolling past names of classmates until I hit the bottom of the document and moved on to the second page.

  It was another document, typed in courier font. The heading said, “Proposal.” I read as quickly as possible, aware of coming to the end of my lunch break. What I was reading made my heart race. I stopped, scrolled back up, and started again.

  Please somebody tell me this is a joke. But of course, it wasn’t. This was real. Right in front of me, on the computer screen, there was a business report that blew my world to smithereens.

  40

  To whom it may concern:

  Project “Fors Beatha” is progressing to schedule. As of today, the reactor in sector 276 is driven entirely by energy procured from test subjects, batch 24.

  Attrition has been reduced by 75%. This is due to the fact that no new assets are extracted until they have reached year 3 to enhance their magical energy sufficiently to allow them to survive the procedure.

  The surplus of test subjects has been delivered to HRH as requested. The Fae ambassador has signed a new contract, freeing us from any liability as to the longevity of the assets.

  Delivery of payment will be imminent and ongoing.

  Please note the following addendum to the agreement:

  1) Student Beth Anderson is not to be extracted until ordered by HRH.

  2) Student Amber Whitman is not to be extracted until she has reached her full potential as determined by F.