The Mage-Blood Test: A YA Paranormal Romance (Arumrose Academy Book 1)

by Estefania Lezameta Mino

  Naya blinked at her schedule. It was thick and full, and it looked like there wasn’t a minute of rest. Her classes looked insane. There’s no possible way she could take extra activities with her day full of witchcraft and vampirism. How could she handle all of it? She had always been a good student, proud of her successes, but she was just one person and some days she had seven full classes compared to the three or four on Amy’s much lighter schedule.

  No one else seemed to be looking at their schedule with shock, and she felt further singled out and different.

  “The Arumrose Academy holds its name due to the marvelous Arumrose flowers that grow behind the main building.” There were whispers among the students. “And no, you can’t visit it. Only authorized members are allowed in.” Naya let out a small, nervous laugh.

  “This precious rose allows us to create the shots and bracelets that control your powers. It is mandatory for you to keep them on at all times as established, and only with the inhibitor pills that you will get from your professors can you test and enhance your powers.”

  Amy shifted in her seat, drawing Naya’s attention to the last page of their files, where there was a picture of the Arumrose. It was beautiful and unique, with a dark purple color that matched the school’s decor. There were deep purple-colored carpets on the floors and purple banners that hung from the ceilings, and Naya recognized them as being the same color as the rare Arumrose. “As for our institution, our goal is to mold the leaders of the future. Your place in this world has been important since you were born. Our goal is to make the best version of you to save our world as well as to help grounders live peaceful lives.” The Headmistress continued the speech as Naya wondered if she truly fit in with the paranormal world. She felt different than anyone else, living her whole life as a grounder. She had to trust that eventually, things would make sense.

  Once the introductory class ended, Trevor, Amy and Naya walked out of the auditorium with drained faces.

  “It was…” started Trevor.

  “Boring,” Amy finished his sentence, rolling her eyes.

  “Come on, guys! It wasn’t that boring. She made our schedules appear in front of us from nothing! Plus, now we have the afternoon free.”

  “Yeah, to cry about our courses,” said Amy. Maybe her nickname should have been Cynic Amy.

  “You’re right, Naya. Although spending so many hours there left me with no will to do anything. I just want to rest. How about we explore tomorrow?”

  Naya felt disappointed, and as she opened her mouth, someone yelled “Ball!”

  She turned, her heart panicking, and instead of seeing a ball she saw the shape of the cute guy that she saw in her first moments of the Academy, playing sports—and distracted by him, she received a football to the side of her head that knocked her off her feet.

  “Oh my God, Naya!” Amy screamed out.

  “Are you okay?” Trevor asked with concern in his voice, bending down to grab her and rubbing her shoulder.

  “Oww…my head,” Naya whimpered, touching her head and knowing it would leave an ugly bump.

  The owner of the ball was running towards her. “I’m so sorry! I yelled ‘ball’!” Trevor leaned back, looking up at him while she was stuck on the ground.

  That voice…

  Naya turned toward him with burning blood, angry at the pain in her head, when she saw his face. Maybe it was the fall that knocked her brain, but she swore it was…

  “If it isn’t you, ‘pad girl’! Damn, look at you! You’ve grown!” That pretentious, arrogant jerk. Nothing could be simple. He was still the same guy that broke hearts all throughout high school, only somehow more handsome. His unruly mop of hair had been trimmed to be more grown up, but his intense blue eyes were the same.

  “Shut up, Ryan! Something as stupid as this damn ball could only come from an idiot like you!”

  Trevor and Amy shared a look of confusion. There was too much anger and confusion for this to be strangers yelling at each other.

  “Easy, Colt, I’m sorry.” He reached out a hand, gripping her arm and pulling her up easily. Then he put his hand to the place where he should have a heart, as if it would give some credibility to his words. “I really am sorry. I’m not the same kid I was back in high school. I’ve changed.”

  Naya stared at him with hate. How naïve could he think she was to buy that BS? He’d already used her horrible nickname, as if he was trying to bring the old bullying to a new place.

  “It’s true. Let me buy you dinner tonight, as an apology.”

  Her friends’ jaws fell so hard, it was like they were in a cartoon.

  Ryan was the epitome of the hot jerk, and he had only gotten better looking after a year, with short hair and those blue eyes that seemed to dance in the light. He had this infuriating smirk on his face that all good-looking guys get when they know how handsome they are.

  “No. Way. I would never go out with you. As a matter of fact? Don’t ever talk to me. From now on, we’re strangers.”

  She grabbed her things, putting papers back into her bag, and huffed away. This was a nightmare. She just wanted a new start, but having the worst bully of her life here at Arumrose would take away any chance she had to make a new version of herself.

  She tried to leave her past behind…

  And it followed her here.

  8

  The next day, the three of them met up by the dorm rooms. Amy had invited Trevor the day before, then sneakily said to Naya that spending more time with her would lead to a better chance of getting asked out. It was awful dealing with Amy’s barrage of questions about which guy she liked better. Obviously, Trevor was way nicer, but talking about boys in general was an awkward topic. Naya had shut down as many conversations as she could when Amy kept pressing her for details about Ryan.

  “Did you really just reject a date with Ryan? I can’t believe it,” Amy said again as they walked away from the dorms.

  “He’s not just the quarterback of the vampire team, he’s their captain at second year! That’s never happened before. It’s always been fourth years,” continued Trevor, his face lighting up as he talked about her worst enemy. This was too much for him to know, and both Naya and Amy looked at him with a strange look.

  He shrugged. “Don’t judge me for doing my homework. I want to join the football team this year, and every bit of knowledge helps make the cut.”

  “Why are you guys still talking about him? I told you yesterday why he’s a jerk—and jerks don’t change.”

  They continued to press and press with reasons why she should accept a date with someone so popular, but none of the ideas convinced her. She felt it was strange that Trevor was pushing for it, as if he was too cute for her and wasn’t interested anymore. She remembered the way her heart had pounded as he pulled her from a near fall, but now he was gushing along with Amy about how great Ryan was.

  Yeah, so the new haircut suited him better, and he’d somehow gotten even more handsome since last year. Sure, he could have changed a little…but you can’t change a rotten core. She spent so long living in fear, being humiliated by his little clique, that she wanted to put him firmly in her past.

  Plus…she needed to focus on her new schedule. There were so many classes that she wouldn’t even be able to think. There wasn’t time to think about boys, especially not boys like Ryan. It made her even more frustrated that Trevor kept talking to her about him. He shouldn’t even know he existed. Trevor should be talking about asking her to dinner, not explaining why Ryan would be a good match, and for Trevor, she would take time out of her busy schedule. His dreamy dimple-smile was the only thing that could get her mind off Ryan and it motivated her to get through a day.

  What a pity she didn’t share any classes with Trevor. To be fair, he was in the shifter classes and a shifter was the only thing she wasn’t. Imagine if she had been the third kind, as well. Her schedule was so tight it was unimaginable to think of having three. That would be way too much to deal
with. Even two sets of classes was exhausting.

  Plus…if she played her cards right, maybe Trevor would start to miss her when she was absent. It was possible being away from her could make him think about her more. It was a rough plan, but it didn’t sound that bad—right?

  Naya felt lucky that the first three wizardry classes were with her new friend Amy. Everything was new and exciting, and the strangeness of it all triggered her anxiety.

  Amy had always treated her so welcomingly, and for the first time in her life, she didn’t feel alone. Her presence was a comfort next to her.

  As they arrived to the first day of class, a potions class, they sat at an empty table next to the closet that had all the tools they would be using. Walking all the way across the room would have been too much exposure for her anxiety. What if people started to whisper about her? She had a feeling that people were talking about her, because of her being a two-kind, and she occasionally caught glances from people that felt like stares. Was she imagining it, or was it real?

  So many things were different than her normal routine that she knew she needed to take baby steps—and these last couple of days felt like the long jump. She opened up her bag to take out her things, and she looked desperately for her special pen that she knew would calm her. Patting at her pockets gave her nothing, and she looked in every nook and cranny of her denim backpack for it. It looked just like a regular blue pen, but she took it from her dad’s office a day before she got the news that changed her life completely. It wasn’t like she stole it—she just needed a pen to write for school—but now it had a bigger meaning. To everyone else, it was just a pen, but to her, it was one of the last connections she felt to her home and her life.

  She could hear the teacher coming in and the class getting quiet, but she was focusing in on trying to find her pen.

  “Welcome to your first ever potions class, students.”

  Could it be? That voice, so warm and soft. She lifted her head up and opened her mouth with shock.

  “My name is Elizabeth Turner, and you can call me Mrs. Turner.” Naya was still in shock. How could it be? All those years she spent talking to the secretary of the school, and now she was a witch? And not just any witch, but a witch specializing in potions and brews!

  Maybe that explained all the bottles with essences at her school desk. She had always thought Elizabeth was a fan of natural medicine and mystical herbs. Now it was confirmed, but even more mystical than she ever could have managed. Her brain was running at a sprint as she tried to deal with this new, shocking information.

  “To begin the session, please turn to page 200 of your book. Naya, could you please read out what we are going to do today?” Her nice smile was meant to be calming, but Naya’s heart was racing. Did Elizabeth know this was going to happen? How could she be so calm, relaxed like this was all normal? Her world felt frozen until Amy elbowed her to snap her back to reality, opening up the book in front of her.

  “Sure…” said Naya, bewildered. “Today we will do a charming potion, correct?”

  “Correct. Please continue with the description.”

  “The charming potion allows the drinker to be as charming as a fairytale prince, and those around him or her will be so enchanted by them that they will speak the truth to any question the drinker asks. Wow.”

  “Exactly, Naya. Wow.” The class laughed. “You need to be very careful with this potion and use it only when instructed by a teacher. I must remind you, students, that any illegal use of lessons out of class will be thoroughly reviewed by the high committee of the Academy and be punished to the fullest degree.”

  Everyone got silent and looked at the teacher with wide eyes. They all felt her voice change from light and welcoming to stern when she spoke of the possible repercussions. No one wanted to risk being suspended…or something worse. What if they could take away your powers forever for using them wrongly?

  It would be like winning the lottery then being told it was a trick ticket.

  Seconds passed and they felt like hours as Elizabeth looked over the class, making eye contact with each and every one of them to drive home her words.

  “Now, let’s get the ingredients. You will be in groups of two, and I will walk through each couple to see how you are all doing.”

  One by one, the students checked the lists in their books and went through the closets to take out the ingredients. “Hummingbird spit?” Naya said, feeling sick with every letter. “Sugar of the elf yard? Is that a real thing, Amy?”

  “Of course it is, Naya! It’s the sugar that elves make with their own brand of magic,” Elizabeth touched her on her shoulder. She turned, her heart pounding, still unable to believe what was happening.

  “Elizabeth! I mean, Mrs. Turner…I mean…how is this possible?”

  “There are so many things for you to learn about, my dear Naya, and the second I found out you were selected I knew I had to come here.”

  “What are you talking about? What do you know that I don’t?” Naya couldn’t keep the concern out of her voice.

  “Meet me in your free period at my office. Maybe we could talk like we did back at the school.” Just like that, she moved to another table, explaining how too much sugar could set off a dangerous reaction.

  Amy turned to Naya, her eyebrows drawn down. “What in the heck was that?”

  “I don’t know. This is all so confusing. She was the secretary to the principal at the school…at the grounder school I used to go to. I’m as shocked as you are.”

  “Ohhh, so Elizabeth could be your ally here! Nice!”

  Naya looked at Amy, wondering what was wrong with her friend. Amy tapped her finger against the desk. “Come on, don’t be so uptight. If she’s your friend, maybe we can use it to our advantage…”

  “No! Oh no, she’s a nice person, and I don’t want to get any special treatment. Let’s play fair and figure this potion out like everyone else.”

  “Boring,” replied Amy, looking down at the vial and bringing out a test tube to start mixing. While Naya wanted to read and re-read the ingredients and steps, it seemed like Amy just wanted to push ahead.

  For the next two hours, all the students tried to make the charming potion. It seemed so easy when you read through the instructions, like following a recipe for baking cookies, but it wasn’t. The most difficult part was at the end when you had a full potion and you had to test it. No one wanted to, between the mix of spit and unicorn blood and all the other gross things—and worst of all, the color seemed slightly different than the picture in the potions book. What if they had done it wrong and the results would turn them into a frog?

  Amy and Naya finished a potion, and both of them looked at it skeptically. There was no other way than to do rock paper scissors, and Naya felt herself calm as she won. Amy gulped it down and made a face.

  “How did it taste?”

  “Schlecht!“ she replied, and they both looked at each other with shock as Amy started to talk in German. She even had an accent as if she had been born in Berlin! Everyone in the class watched in amazement, but no one could tell what she was saying until finally her words turned back into English.

  Mrs. Turner raised an eyebrow. “And that is what happens when you use two drops too many of hummingbird spit. You will notice a slightly pinkish tint if you don’t do the ratios correctly. Try again.”

  They tried again, and Naya lost two rounds of rock paper scissors in a row—first speaking in a strange new language, then prancing around class like a gazelle. She thought she would feel humiliated, but everyone was failing in different, hilarious ways, and it brought everyone closer together to watch each other fail. It seemed like Mrs. Turner had chosen a potion where doing it wrong resulted in hilarity rather than danger. No one could get it right and everyone was doing stupid things.

  It was a hilarious first class, and it helped the students bond and be more relaxed with each other. Her heart calmed.

  “Okay, students. Talk about a tragic fi
rst day. Let me show you how it’s done, and please, pay close attention.” Mrs. Turner mixed the ingredients one by one with delicate swirls of her wrist. She poured the amounts precisely. At the very end, the potion looked just like the last one Amy and Naya had created, but she gave a wink to the class.

  “Give me the charm, to cast the spell,” she said softly, and moved her fingers over the top of the glass tube.

  The class was silent, watching in confusion. “Kids, you have to read carefully, and you’ll find the answers.” She turned her hand over the book. “Tricky clue, show us the true.” And the pages of the book changed. Right at the bottom, where there was an image of a cauldron, a phrase appeared explaining that to complete the potion you needed to say the magic phrase and wave your hand.

  “See, my students, this lesson was not just to show you how to make a potion. It was to show you that there is always more than meets the eyes. We have to be careful with our knowledge. We can’t let it fall into the wrong hands.” She took a dramatic pause, looking over the class again. There was silence. She lifted the tube with veneration and addressed the class. “Now who wants to try it?”

  “Me! Me! Me!” Amy screamed out, raising her hand.

  “What are you doing?” Naya whispered, grabbing her arm and trying to pull it down, but it was no use. Amy jumped out of her seat and went to the front of the class as everyone watched in rapt attention.

  Mrs. Turner handed her the potion delicately. “Be careful with what you wish for.”

  Amy didn’t hesitate. She gulped down the potion in a second. Her mouth twisted at the taste, then her eyes lit up, and she gave a flirty smile. Her pink hair seemed to burn with the same intensity as her eyes, a femme fatale. Amy rolled her hips, walking like she was on a catwalk, up to a boy in the classroom with dark skin, big brown eyes and lips that begged to be bitten. Amy spoke to him softly, just loud enough for the class to make out part of the words—complimenting his dress, how his hair suits him perfectly, and he stared at her with wide eyes, completely entranced.