Bloodbound Nocturne (The Sophia Kelly Chronicles Book 1)

by Amy J. Wenglar

  "You are very much awake, Sophe. Probably more so than you have ever been before." Well, he's certainly right about that. "And now we need to know what your mother knew. What was it that terrified her so much that she stopped writing her book?"

  "I think she stopped pursuing her writing because she wanted to pursue drugs instead. But she does seem to think that supernatural thugs are coming for me because of this birthmark. She thinks it summons the light or wakes up the light or something like that." I roll my eyes as I hold up my arm to display the small, pale crescent shape on my wrist. Dr. D and Colin exchange confused glances. "It was something she supposedly read in an old book she stumbled upon in her research. She used to ramble on and on about how I should never read the book because I would become too curious about things I should stay away from and then they would come and take me away, just like they did with my father. She seemed genuinely terrified about this." I pause for a moment. "Supposedly the book, if it ever existed at all outside of my mother's hallucinations, has been destroyed. Kind of like my mother's mind," I mutter. "Drugs are an evil business."

  "So you haven't read the book?" Dr. D says in an agitated voice.

  "No, that's what I was just saying. Keep up, professor. The book, if it was even real at all, is long gone. Vanished. Poof. Gone. I can't read it because I don't have it. So I guess we'll never know."

  "Probably for the best," he mutters to himself. "You wouldn't last five seconds in a fight with Unseelie."

  "Hey." I point a finger at him. "Enough with the mean jabs. Apparently, I've got something going on for the Unseelie to want me, so watch it before I figure out what that is and use it against you."

  I point the scar on my wrist in his direction, as if to zap him with something, superhero-style.

  Colin gives me a nod of agreement. "Every Druid coven in the world has started to unite over the fighting between the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. We believe it has to do with something called the Changeling Prophecy." He pauses, eyes meeting mine. "Have you heard of this? Did your mother ever tell you about it?"

  I shake my head, fascinated. "No. But I love a good prophecy. Tell me about it."

  Dr. D grumbles something German and angry-sounding under his breath, but Colin presses on.

  "It's said that a disgraced Fae prince kept a journal, God, eons ago. And in it, he spoke of some mystical Changeling — a being that is half-Fae and half-human — and how the coming of this Changeling will bring about a war between the Faerie Courts that can only be stopped by the Changeling herself. Or himself. We're not really sure. In fact, we're not really sure about any of it. We know nothing about the war. How it starts or how it ends, or why this particular Changeling is so valuable. But war is escalating. And many of us believe it's because of this Changeling and her… or his… power."

  "Where is this journal now?" I ask, my curiosity piqued. "Is it in print somewhere? Maybe I should read it. What if…" No, no. It's not possible. Don't even go there. You are not a fabled Changeling, Sophia Kelly. "What if I'm the Changeling?"

  I'm only half kidding, but Dr. D offers a swift counter, just as I knew he would.

  "The journal is nothing more than a legend. No one has ever found it. And trust me when I say there are very few people who take the rumblings of a disgraced Fae prince seriously, Miss Kelly," Dr. D says wryly.

  "On the contrary, Sophia, we think your mother might have had some contact with it," Colin says abruptly. "And if she did indeed get rid of it, we think it was because she wanted to keep it away from you… Perhaps she thinks…"

  "She thinks I'm the Changeling, too. And she doesn't want me to connect with that journal."

  "Your mother is a—"

  "Yes, professor, I'm very aware of what my mother is," I snap. "But something's going on. These Unseelie things want me, don't they?"

  "We think that the fight between the Seelie and Unseelie Courts will soon bleed over into this world as they continue their search," continues Colin. "Which will obviously affect all of us. And could quite possibly end the world as we know it if it continues to escalate." He claps his hands together as if he's a coach preparing his team for the big game. "So, naturally, there's a lot to be done before then if we want to stop it. If there's any chance you think you can help, we need it, Sophe."

  "Like hell you do," Dr. D bellows. Colin shuts him up with another wave of his hand.

  "Now Colin, stop doing that. Whatever it is you're doing. Stop." I turn to Dr. D, feeling a bit like I am in a court of my own, as I try to piece this mess of a puzzle together. "First off, professor, we'll get to the bloodsucker comment in a minute. Now, why shouldn't I help if I can help? What if I am…"

  Hell, even I can’t finish the statement now that everyone is all serious about this. Being a contender for Mystical Changeling is a hard thing to even start to admit, especially when your coming will bring about the war to end all wars and possibly an apocalypse on top of that.

  "He doesn't trust the Fae," Colin answers. "Or Druids either. In fact, he thinks all of this is nonsense."

  "I didn't ask you," I snap. "I asked Dr. D."

  "Dr. D?" The professor looks horrified at the mention of his nickname, as if being called a bloodsucker wasn't bad enough.

  "Yes, that's what we call you," I say with a simple shrug. "So you don't trust the Fae. Got it. Now, Colin, what on God's green earth can I possibly do to help a bunch of Druids? If you people can't figure it out, what can I do? I can barely get to class on time."

  Dr. D mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like "The first thing she's understood in the past hour."

  Colin pauses for a moment. "I don't know. I don't know what any of us can do right now." He fixes me with a firm stare. "You need to talk to your mother. Find out more about this supposed book she found and if it had something to do with the journal, or if it actually was the journal. We need that journal. And we need to know about this light she thinks you carry. If it's what I think it is—"

  "It isn't," snaps Dr. D.

  "If only talking to my mother were that simple," I say, raising my voice in hopes of stopping the next round of bickering between Dr. D and Colin. "My mother hasn't returned a single call or message since I got here. I have no idea where she is or who she's with or what she's doing. She's literally gone. She's the one person who might actually know what's going on, and she's nowhere to be found." Dr. D and Colin exchange a knowing look. Probably the friendliest they've been toward each other all day. "What? You don't think she could be in danger, do you?"

  Colin bites his lip. "It's possible. But with her, who's to say?" He cracks an uneasy grin.

  "So, if I'm this Changeling, which I'm probably not." I shoot Dr. D a sharp look right as he's about to interrupt. "Humor me." I give him a sweet smile. "What if I am? Then what?"

  "Well, the Unseelie Court sent one of their fighters after you in broad daylight, and though it was not their best and brightest by any means, it had a purpose, and that purpose was to take you out. They see you as a threat."

  "What about the other guys? The good Unseelie?"

  "Seelie," Colin says with a gentle smile. "And your guess is as good as mine."

  "So they could want to take me out, too? I could just be a walking target?"

  My stomach drops. I knew I wanted to be taken out once I got to college, but I'm not sure this is what I had in mind. The clarity I felt earlier seems to be dissolving into panic.

  "Why?" I ask again, more to myself than to my brave protectors. "Why else would the Winter Faeries be after me?" I bite my lip, debating whether or not to go on. "Unless they think I'm this Changeling? Which I'm not, by the way." I look up at Dr. D, who is staring at the floor, a deep frown wrinkling his forehead. "And why did he call you bloodsucker? There's only one meaning that I know of for that, and if either of you tells me that vampires are real, I'm not sure I can handle that right now. And where is this Unseelie's body?"

  "They disintegrate when they are sent back," Dr. D says dr
yly, still not taking his eyes off the floor. "But rest assured, Miss Kelly, they will return. And they'll bring backup next time."

  "Yes," says Colin. "Which is what we were just talking about. Keeping you safe until we can figure out what to do next."

  "Great," I mutter. "Just what I need: you guys following me around while I'm trying to hide the fact that I might be this Changeling. I can take care of myself, you know. Been doing it for years."

  They exchange dubious looks. Probably male code for "Women like Sophia Kelly can't possibly take care of themselves on their own."

  "You must also learn some basic self-defense," says Colin. "Hand-to-hand combat, high-intensity intervals, fencing. Stuff like that."

  Fencing?

  Dr. D chuckles to himself. "This I'd like to see."

  "Fencing is wonderful for lower-body strength and all-around flexibility. Plus, you know as well as I do that she may need to fight with a sword. The Fae I've encountered love to show off with swordplay. I will see to it that she is adequately trained—"

  "You?" Dr. D says with a condescending snort.

  Fencing?

  Colin's face darkens. "I think I can manage," he says through clenched teeth. "Anyway, I've already put a protective charm on her house. For now, she's safe there. They can't touch her. But it won't hold forever. In the meantime, Sophia, take this."

  Colin reaches into his backpack and pulls out a small, black, dagger-like object with a blunted end and hands it to me.

  "What's this supposed to do?" I poke at my arm with the point of the dagger. "This isn't my fencing sword, is it? It's not very sharp, and it's definitely not sleek and cool like swords in the movies." I stab at the air, feeling very inadequate with my little stub of a sword.

  "It's sharp enough to pierce the delicate skin of a faerie. Even the most depraved Unseelie have delicate skin."

  "So I'm supposed to walk around campus wielding an iron dagger? Who am I? Buffy the Vampire Slayer?"

  "You'll be happy to have it if you find yourself unprotected," Dr. D mutters.

  I place the dagger across my lap and stare blankly ahead, trying to wrap my mind around all of this.

  "I know it's a lot," says Colin, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "You're lucky we were here today."

  "I suppose. If an Unseelie was going to attack me, best to have it be while in the company of a Druid and…" I gesture toward Dr. D. "And whatever you are."

  "We will begin our training first thing tomorrow morning," Colin says with a tone of finality as he moves toward the door. "Five thirty in the morning. There's a secluded little spot in some woods right on the edge of campus. Make sure you eat something. And stretch."

  "Where all the homeless people hang out?" I exclaim. "No way."

  "I assure you, Sophe. Homeless people are the least of your worries right now."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  My fencing sword feels heavy in my hand, and I start to think I may have pushed it during my warm-up. I have been training with Colin long enough now to feel like I know everything there is to know about the various types of exercise. Strength drills, kickboxing, high-intensity cardio, and fencing. There isn't a workout or drill out there I can't perform with at least some basic knowledge. But I've especially taken to fencing. Who knew wielding a thin little sword could be so much fun?

  Today is different, though. It's my six-week test. Something Dr. D invented and then insisted on administering. Training with Colin has been relatively stress-free so far, but today I can't help but feel anxious under the scrutiny of Dr. D's judgmental stare. He stands there with a clipboard and pen in hand, ready to write down everything I'm doing wrong. It's his favorite thing to do.

  On top of that, we've pulled together quite an audience. The small homeless camp of about eight people has taken quite an interest in us over the course of our six weeks, and they've been so friendly and welcoming of us in their space, I don't want to let them down, either. They're pulling for me to win this match.

  "Stretch?" Colin says as he moves toward me with a macho swagger I'm not used to seeing on him.

  "Sure."

  I give him a confused look as he gently takes both of my arms behind my back and slowly pushes them toward each other.

  "Relax," he whispers. "You're very tense all along here." Colin grazes his fingertips along my right triceps, up my shoulder, and then softly up the back of my neck. He's never helped me stretch before. Usually, he barks at me to hurry up and stretch on my own so we can start our training. There's something almost sensual in his touch that sends a shiver up my spine. Something's up with him.

  "Oh, for the love of God, if you don't mind, could we could please get on with this," Dr. D groans, clearly agitated.

  Colin throws a glance to Dr. D, chuckling to himself as he struts back to his spot. He is playing up our friendship and the advantages he thinks he has by being both my friend and my trainer. This is something I can never have with Dr. D. And Dr. D is jealous.

  Turning to face my flirtatious opponent, I give myself one last opportunity to stretch, reaching my arms out in front of me to counteract Colin's sexy assisted shoulder stretch. Like me, Colin will also be subjected to Dr. D's scrutiny, and while I feel nervous and anxious, Colin looks as if he's been waiting months for this.

  The homeless camp breaks into a semi-enthusiastic round of slow claps as Colin and I prepare for our match. Colin offers me a relaxed grin, which helps me relax, but my insides still churn with anticipation. He is good at a lot of things, but he's especially good at fencing, which he's done since he was a kid. Fighting him with a real fencing sword and without any protective gear is a little intimidating.

  "You'll be fine," Colin says, laughing as he takes note of my worried expression. "Just don't get distracted by my charming good looks, and I'll try not to take you down."

  We move to our respective en garde positions, eyeing each other with a bit of dramatic flair as we mentally prepare ourselves. Colin does look exceptionally handsome this morning with a hint of day-old stubble on his face and perfectly slept-in sandy-blond hair. For a moment, neither one of us moves, sizing each other up. Or checking each other out. I'm not really sure. But I am not one to let an opportunity to annoy Dr. D go by.

  "How can I not be distracted when you're so hot, Colin?" I say, fluttering my eyelashes at him.

  Dr. D makes a noise of disgust. And then it begins. Colin fakes me out to start, and I flinch, but my feet remain rooted to the ground. He plays dirty when he wants to. I advance on him, a little slower than usual at first, but it's only to give him a chance to retreat. When he does, I move in for my attack. He parries in response, followed by a swift riposte that nearly slices into my shoulder.

  With my eyes trained on him, I pull back a little, hoping to put some space between us and catch my breath. There is a soft cheer from somewhere in the camp, and I feel the tug of a smile at the corners of my lips. I don't smile, though. Smiling during a match shows weakness and sloppy form.

  My eyes remain focused on Colin's charming good looks, trying to anticipate what those charming good looks will do next. In a snap, he lunges. I dodge him, only to find myself up against a tree. Rookie mistake. Our audience gasps and then quiets, and for a split second I think I'm out of options. That is, until I duck under his sword, hitting the slippery wet grass in a crooked, frenzied somersault that leaves me dizzy and disoriented. I leap to my feet ready to block Colin's next attack.

  Holy crap! I must say, I am on fire this morning!

  Our game continues for another fifteen minutes or so before I see traces of fatigue setting in across Colin's stony, impenetrable game face. Without a second thought as to why he's fatigued so fast, I use it to my advantage and move toward him, neatly slicing his shirt from neck to hem, a move that is probably lost on Dr. D and on most of the homeless camp. With a victorious laugh, I twirl his tattered shirt victoriously around the tip of my sword as I take a moment to ogle his muscular physique. I need to remember this move f
or future matches.

  "Well done," Colin crows, making sure to flex the muscles in his arms and chest as he lowers his sword. There is a spark of mischief in his eyes that makes my face flush with heat.

  Most guys finishing up a fight provide a bro-like "good game" clap on the shoulder or a good-spirited high-five. But Colin steps in for a hug that is a little friendlier than I am comfortable with from a guy who has a girlfriend. Pushing thoughts of Sarah aside, I allow myself to get caught up in Colin's musky, clean scent. Turning the tables on what happened earlier, I take a moment to run my hands along his shoulders and up his back with my fingertips. I can play his game, too.

  "I'd stop that if I were you," Colin murmurs, shivering as he pulls away slightly and giving me a look that makes my knees buckle.

  What in the world is happening between Colin and me? And why do I desperately want him to kiss me?

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dr. D pacing in front of us, watching intently over the top of his clipboard and looking as if he's about to explode. Feeling like I've been caught doing something I shouldn't be doing, I wriggle out of Colin's embrace. He does have a girlfriend, after all. She's probably eating avocado toast at this very moment, wondering where he is.

  I pick up my nearly forgotten sword, which still has Colin's shirt dangling at the end of it, and wave it in front of him like a flag. He reaches playfully for it, but I pull it just out of his reach, giggling as he tries again to retrieve it. Colin gives me a sour look as he manages to finally snatch the shirt back, and, balling up the tattered fabric, he tosses it on the ground next to the tree.

  "That's enough," grumbles Dr. D. "I have seen all I wish to see of this disappointing spectacle." He glances at the clipboard again. I can feel his jealousy mounting as a devilish, overly toothy smile spreads across his face. "Now, it's my turn."

  "What?" Colin and I ask in unison.

  "Your technique needs work, MacLeod," Dr. D says, glaring at Colin as he shoves his clipboard into my hand and snatches my sword away from me.