Supernatural Academy: Sophomore Witch

by Ingrid Seymour

  “What do we do?” I looked up to Disha for a solution, my brain too addled to think straight.

  “He needs blood,” Disha said. “That will help him heal. He has some in his room. Let’s take him there.”

  The cloaking and levitating spells went back on, and we rushed Rowan toward the Sophomore Dorm. We didn’t run into anyone as we sneaked past the front door and pressed down the corridor toward his room. We deposited him on his bed, letting the cloaking spell spread over the entire room to hide his pain-filled moans from the outside.

  Disha hurried to a small fridge in the corner of the room and retrieved a bag of blood like the ones in hospitals. Removing the sealing cap from the tube, she brought it to Rowan’s mouth.

  At the mere smell of the blood, his demeanor changed. His body tensed, the veins around his eyes grew more prominent, and his fangs sprang into place. He snatched the bag and squeezed it, sucking it dry in a frenzy.

  “Get another one, Charlie. Quick!” Disha ordered as the bag flattened, and Rowan sucked the last few tendrils of trapped blood.

  I dashed toward the mini-fridge, snatched one bag and then two more for good measure. There were about twenty of them. Blood banks were required to provide bags for registered vampires. It was that or run the risk of humans being attacked. Had Rowan registered? I’d never thought to ask.

  Rowan sat up, flinging the empty blood bag to the floor. He hissed, clawed hands grabbing handfuls of blanket. Disha jumped away from the bed, yanked two of the bags from my hands and threw them at Rowan.

  He sucked them dry as fast as he’d done the first one, then rose from the bed and stared at us, chest heaving, body crouched as if ready to attack. His dirty shirt hung from his massive shoulders. Angrily, he tore it off and threw it on the bed.

  Red blood oozed from his wound as if what he’d just drank was leaking straight out of him. The cut looked the same as before, no sign of getting smaller or healing in any way.

  Disha put both hands up as he took a step in our direction.

  “Calm down, Rowan.” Slowly, she grabbed the other blood bag from my hands and spoke in a reasonable tone that failed to hide her fear. “You had two bags already. That’s more than what you drink in one day, remember?”

  Rowan shook his head and growled, ignoring the bag in Disha’s hands and staring right at her neck instead.

  “You need to be stronger,” Disha told him. “You can control it. You can—”

  He launched toward Disha. She screamed and threw the blood bag at Rowan. It hit his chest and fell to the floor, ignored.

  Fearing for Disha, I jumped between them. Rowan crashed into me. We fell backward, knocking Disha down.

  She kicked back, sliding away from us as Rowan pinned me down, angling his head toward my neck.

  Chapter Thirteen

  FALL SEMESTER

  LATE OCTOBER

  As Rowan posed himself to bite me, I pushed against him, but his vampire strength overpowered me easily. He was a solid wall of muscle pinning me to the floor.

  My panicked mind ran through defensive spells, remembering the one I’d used on Henderson last year, but I didn’t dare risk blasting him with magic. He was severely wounded as it was. Besides, Henderson had been about to cut my hands off, so I’d acted under terrible duress. This, on the other hand, this was—

  Disha wormed her way out from under us, readying her hands for a spell.

  “Disha, no,” I said. “He’s already injured.”

  Wide-eyed, she scrambled to the door. “Charlie, hold on. I’ll get help!”

  The door opened and shut, and she tore down the hallway, leaving Rowan and me alone on the floor.

  His hypnotizing gaze pinned me down just as well as his muscular body did. Slowly, he lowered his mouth to my neck.

  Then his fangs sank into my flesh.

  Pain, sharp and terrifying, swept through me.

  I pushed again, my hands on his naked chest, but his body, strengthened by blood, was a wall of throbbing muscle. His pecs bulged under my palms as his chest heaved.

  I felt him swallow slowly and languorously like he was savoring a fine wine.

  As I struggled, my attention lingered on the feel of his soft lips on my skin, the sharp but oddly arousing pinch of his fangs, the tantalizing smell of him. Not only did Rowan drinking my blood not scare me as it should… it was turning me on.

  Was I enthralled?

  Was that why my bra suddenly felt too tight and my hips longed to grind up into him? Either way, I didn’t, or perhaps couldn’t, care.

  I dug my hands into his strong back muscles. He drew me tighter into his embrace, sucking harder, drawing my very essence into his being. Feeding off of my energy. It felt raw, intimate and sexual. Just the brush of his lips as they curved around my throat was enough to make me beg for him to continue.

  This was crazy, this dangerous desire. It burned through me like gasoline poured on a fire. Yet, I wanted to keep pouring on more and more. Let it blaze until it consumed me.

  My body tightened with want as his fingers wove into my hair. Pulling my neck back, he ran his tongue along the tender skin, groaning deeply. My groan matched his as I dug my nails into his flesh, silently begging him not to finish and yet, knowing somewhere deep down that he should. Whatever this sick need was, I never wanted it to stop.

  Using one arm to hold himself up, he leaned back, his face hovering over mine. My neck throbbed, missing the ecstasy of his bite.

  I could tell by his dilated pupils that the blood lust still controlled him. Or was it another form of lust? The way his body was reacting to mine let me know he wanted me just as much as I wanted him. The curves of his muscles and this new massive body had already caught my attention, but now, in full glory, all I wanted to do was run my hands over every inch of him.

  With a forearm, he wiped my blood from his mouth. His fangs, still elongated and sharp, dipped into his lower lip as he regarded me beneath him. His tongue, tinged bright red, licked his fangs sensually. His eyes were no longer wild. They were hooded as they traced the lines of my face.

  “Rowan,” I whispered, still not willing to let him go. My limbs trembled with tension, my stomach tight with anticipation.

  His head dipped down, but this time his mouth met mine.

  We had kissed before, many times, but this time the act was so passionate it tingled my skin all the way down my spine. Not since that first time in his bedroom had every synapse in my body come alive at Rowan’s touch.

  He was hungry for me and I could sense it. His tongue skimmed my lips and then slipped between them. He tasted sweet and salty, not at all like I was expecting.

  I dug my nails in deeper as his body pressed into mine. I needed him, every solid inch of his cold, perfect skin. With my other hand, I wove my fingers into his hair as if that could anchor us together.

  Growling, he grabbed my shirt and tugged it up. Frantically, I helped him drag the tank top away. In only a bra, I tugged him to me, letting his ice melt into my heat.

  “Charlie,” he said, his voice full of barely-controlled lust. Black eyes hid behind long lashes. His thumb traced my chin and skimmed over my swollen bottom lip as I closed my eyes to savor his touch.

  I shivered as his hands dipped lower, brushing over my chest and down my stomach. His ice-cold fingers gripped my hips and pulled me towards him. Our bodies fit together, causing another moan to escape my throat. Rowan responded, skimming his fangs along my naked shoulder.

  Footsteps in the hallway broke apart our passionate moment. The door blew open.

  As Rowan glanced up, a spell caught him in the chest and yanked him off of me. Shocked, I watched him zoom to the ceiling, bang into it and hover there.

  Whipping around, I spied Dean McIntosh and Disha standing in the doorway.

  Disha had arrived with her promised, but now unwanted, help. Damn! If I’d only known the attack would turn into the hottest night of my life, I would’ve asked her to take her sweet time getting back.<
br />
  “Charlie, are you okay?” Disha sank to her knees and began an incantation above my neck wound, twining her fingers and mumbling.

  “Wait, don’t seal it. We need to draw the venom out if we can,” Dean McIntosh said, clearly concerned.

  The venom? Oh, shit. Was I about to become a vampire? This was the second time with vampire venom in my blood. I was really playing with fire.

  “I didn’t use any,” Rowan growled from where he hovered, suspended against the ceiling.

  Dean McIntosh’s gaze darted from my neck to Rowan, glowering as if she didn’t believe him. Still, after she used a spell to assess the wound, she seemed satisfied that he’d been telling the truth. She lowered him to the floor as Disha stitched up my wound.

  “Now,” the dean said, clearly exasperated, “someone better start explaining things. Fast.”

  Crap. Disha had tried to save me but had inadvertently tossed us all to the wolves. Quickly, I grabbed my tank top and threw it on, trying to think of a good explanation for what we’d just been doing.

  “It’s my fault,” Rowan said, finally out of the blood-lust stupor.

  “Of course, it is,” the dean said, coming in and shutting the door. “But it’s also Disha and Charlie’s fault. The three of you bring me more trouble than all the other students combined.”

  She slumped on Rowan’s bed like a tired mother, kicking off moon boots and rubbing her feet. She was wearing a spacesuit, which I found surprising until I remembered she’d just come from the space-themed homecoming game.

  “Start at the beginning,” she said, exasperated.

  Disha and I took turns recounting all that happened, deciding it best to explain everything so that the Dean would know how serious the threat was. If Mink was willing to kill Rowan in Turkey, what would stop him from dropping by here, cloaking himself and ramming a stake through his heart in his sleep?

  The dean listened to it all not really shocked until we got to the part where Mink arrived and tried to kill Rowan. Then she leaned forward, her eyes widening larger and larger until they were giant saucers in her head.

  “So, let me get this straight. You used the portal illegally to chase some ridiculous idea you had—which, by the way, will lead you nowhere—and then you two thought you could treat an injured, fledgling vampire by yourselves by opening up packets of blood in front of him?”

  Disha and I shrugged lamely.

  “Great, gooey biscuits! It’s a miracle you’re still alive. Someone must be watching out for you.”

  The dean got up, straightening her very authentic-looking space suit which crinkled as she moved and pointed a finger in the morose vampire’s direction. “Rowan, are you under control, now?”

  He nodded, his eyes darting to my neck and then away as if he could barely stand the shame.

  “Good. Starting tomorrow, you’ll report to the basement of the Humanities Building for immediate training in controlling your… eh hem, urges. It seems your father’s spells are not sufficient.”

  “With whom, ma’am?” Rowan asked.

  “With Professor Answorth. Or, rather, Mr. Answorth, I suppose. He volunteered after he turned you. I believe he still feels partially responsible for your predicament. I’ll call him. I’m sure he won’t care about the short notice.”

  Answorth was back? That was pretty surprising considering all that went on last year.

  “And you girls,” she said, turning her finger on us. “You two will be trained as well. In addition to your studies, you will start Advanced Defensive Magic, a junior level class, but you clearly need it. You have been lucky in the past and held your own, but you need consistency. After dinner tomorrow, head to the labyrinth. Your instructor will meet you there.”

  “The labyrinth?” I remembered my run-in with the pixie minotaurs and the water nymph like it was yesterday. I didn’t want to go back in there.

  Dean McIntosh narrowed her eyes. “Would you rather be expelled, Ms. Rivera? That can be arranged.”

  “No, no. Thank you, ma’am.” I plastered on a grateful smile.

  Advanced Defensive Magic?! I guessed she didn’t trust us to stay out of trouble. Whatever the case, I was grateful for her offer of help instead of expelling me. She seemed to always be on my side, and I loved her for it.

  “Fine. Now, go to bed. All of you.” She stood in the hallway and waited until Disha and I had exited before walking away, grumbling.

  Before I left, I turned back. Rowan lingered with his back to the wall, looking as dejected as anyone possibly could. I needed to discuss all that had just happened, but the dean stopped in her tracks and cleared her throat to indicate lingering was not permissible.

  Rowan walked across his room I thought it might be to give me a quick kiss or tell me he would see me tomorrow, but instead, he dipped his head and muttered, “I’m sorry, Charlie,” before closing the door between us.

  I waited, staring at the wood, not really sure where things stood between us.

  “Yikes,” Disha said, grabbing my arm. “You two are a mess.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  FALL SEMESTER

  EARLY NOVEMBER

  Disha and I showed up for our Advanced Defensive Magic training session ten minutes early, full of cafeteria chicken dinner and a good helping of anxious nerves. The labyrinth ahead of us seemed taller, the hedges sharper and more foreboding than I last remembered them.

  Honestly, it was going to take a team of horses to drag me back in there, I swear.

  “What do you think he’ll have us do?” she asked, tossing a glossy black lock over her shoulder. Disha was once again over-dressed in a slinky sundress, strappy sandals, and full makeup. “I hope nothing too strenuous. I’ve just blown out my hair.”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “The last time I went in there, little beasts made me into a Chia Pet and a water nymph nearly drowned Rowan. I think your blowout was poorly timed.”

  Disha sulked, resting her back against the outer hedge wall, grumbling something about, “...didn’t know becoming a witch meant constant trips to the salon to clean up dead ends.”

  I had to chuckle. No matter what this life threw at us, I could count on Disha to remain exactly the same.

  “Who do you think the first teacher is?” I asked.

  “I hope it’s Junior Year professor Dr. Middlebush. I hear he’s not half bad for a fifty-year-old.”

  I gave her the look and she feigned ignorance. “What? A little bit of eye candy never hurt anyone.”

  Crunching footsteps drew our attention to the maze’s entrance. Disha and I stepped forward only to come face to face with Bridget and Bobby.

  They were both wearing loose athletic attire and panting slightly as if they’d just gone for a jog. Bridget’s wild red hair was barely contained by a neon yellow sweatband, matching her pants and jacket, a color that contrasted wildly with her complexion. Honestly, she looked like a walking highlighter or a lemon on steroids. I nearly had to shield my eyes from the brightness.

  “Oh,” I said, startled. “Hi, Bridget. Bobby.” I gave her silent brother a nod. Towering over me, he gave one back. Lurch was dressed in regular Nike shorts and a tank, his red hair nearly shaved to the scalp.

  “What are you doing here?” Disha said. “Are you getting lessons from Professor Middlebush, too? Why didn’t you say something this morning?”

  Bridget shook her head. “No lessons for us. Bobby and I don’t need help in defensive magic.”

  I narrowed my eyes, unsure as to how Bridget could know the reason for our presence.

  A slow smile broke out over Bridget’s face as her eyes popped wide. “Yeah, that’s right. We’re your first Defensive Arts teachers. Dean McIntosh said there’ll be someone else later but, for now, you’re stuck with us.” She thumbed her chest as her eyebrows waggled up and down.

  Disha stared in shock, while I shook my head. This had to be a joke.

  “There’s no way,” Disha chimed in, jutting a hip. “You two are sophomo
res just like us.”

  “Right, but did you know our parents run the number one international magical security agency? We train the bodyguards that protect all the world’s leaders, some of which I’ve met, including Queen Elizabeth herself. Her corgis are so cute!”

  “Queen Elizabeth has a magical bodyguard?” I asked.

  “Every world leader does, and a lot of the billionaires and Hollywood elite. Otherwise, they could be exploited by evil witches or warlocks who want to control them. Duh.” Bridget tilted her head as if wondering how I’d gotten this far in life knowing so little.

  “Nuh uh. I’m calling bullshit,” Disha said, getting ready to walk off. “There’s no way Dean McIntosh put you in charge of our advanced education.”

  Bridget stepped forward, blocking her path and squaring her shoulders. “Throw something at me.”

  “What?” Disha’s eyes widened. “Are you off your rocker?”

  “Throw a spell at me. Any spell.” Bridget jutted her chin. Beside her, Bobby straightened up as if readying himself, too.

  “I’m not going to—” Disha stopped mid-sentence and threw her hands out, casting a surprise spell no one could have seen coming.

  But something miraculous happened. It was as if Bridget had Spidey Sense. As soon as Disha’s hands were in motion, Bridget was whirling back and casting her own blocking spell. The two incantations collided in the air and disintegrated into a cascade of sparks.

  “Wow,” I said.

  “How did you…?” Disha stared at her hands and then at Bridget.

  “Follow me. I’ll show you.”

  With that, Bridget and Bobby stalked off into the labyrinth, leaving Disha and me to stare at each other in wonder.

  “What do we do now?” I asked.

  Her shocked expression matched mine perfectly. “Well, when life gives you lemons in the form of bat-shit-crazy roommates, you make lemonade, as they say.”

  I readied my cuffs, the power throbbing as if begging for release. “Well then, let’s go make some lemonade.”