Nightworld Academy: Term Three

by LJ Swallow

  Amelia holds her ground. "Why? You’re cheating and I’m not putting up with this shit from people like you anymore."

  Magic crackles in the centre of her outstretched palms, stronger than the witch light she created before.

  He swipes a hand across his face and glares down at her. "If you weren’t a girl, I’d bloody hit you."

  "What the hell, Clive?" Jamie steps forward as I look on in shock at their confrontation. "Amelia," he says softly. "Leave this. He’s not worth it."

  Her hands shake and the sparking doesn’t stop. Clive sneers. "Is this about Genevieve? Can’t we drop the subject?"

  "You cheated on my sister and then when she had the accident, you didn’t visit her. Not once." Amelia’s voice cracks. "I don’t know what you’ve become, but you’re not the guy I knew two years ago. That Clive wouldn’t cheat."

  Clive leans closer to Amelia with a sneer on his face. "Wrong. I learned not to associate with witches, especially crap, penniless ones who’ve no chance of achieving anything in life."

  The crackling energy runs down Amelia’s fingers until the tips glow like the sparklers I once held at New Year's parties.

  Crap. Ash could be right. Amelia might hurt Clive and find herself carted off to join Matt in Ravenhold.

  Is that what she’s doing?

  "That’s enough, both of you," growls Jamie and shoves at Clive’s shoulder.

  Clive straightens and stares in amused shock at the guy half his bulk. "Hands off me."

  "Leave her alone," he growls.

  "Or what?" he gives a derisive laugh.

  Jamie squares up to him and Amelia grabs his arm with a desperate glance at me. I shake my head, wide-eyed. At least she’s backed down, even if Jamie’s about to take her place.

  Does he think the Blackwood magic lingers around him without the pendant?

  My answer comes seconds after Jamie mutters something I can’t hear to Clive. Face clouding with fury, Clive throws a sudden punch, upper-cutting Jamie, who reels and lands on the ground.

  Everything happens in shocked slow motion—how he falls, the thud as Jamie’s head hits a fallen log, Amelia’s scream. I retreat into my mind, as if I’m in a reverse vision—I’m here, but everything feels unreal. Echoing. Dulled by the darkness.

  Amelia screams again, and Clive nurses his fist, swearing.

  Fury takes over, and magic floods through me. I project my mind towards Remi and focus on summoning the mental energy I need. Remi's mind is unsurprisingly empty—his only thought is to back up Clive and throw a punch at Jamie too. I blank my thoughts and attempt to see through Remi's eyes. To push into his head.

  Remi attempts to step towards Jamie, and I focus on stopping his feet moving.

  'What the hell?' Remi's internal thought reaches me, and I try harder as he fights against my intrusion. But Remi's strength is now in my control, not his.

  I'm close to Clive.

  My head throbs, but I have a firm grip on Remi. I'm inside his mind. Controlling him. Remi approaches Clive, who looks up. "What?"

  Remi's mouth opens as if struggling for words.

  "Dude? Are you okay?"

  Amelia looks up from the ground and screams at them as she holds up a hand smeared with blood. "You've hurt him!"

  "Shit," mutters Clive. "Remi. We need to go. Now."

  Remi's dull, primal brain, where violence bubbles, ready to explode at any moment, helps with my next move. As Remi, I pull back my arm, gather all Remi's impressive strength, and punch Clive in the stomach.

  He stumbles and his eyes darken—not with anger but a transformation from brown to almost black, like a bear’s eyes. A low growl rumbles from his chest. I’m reminded of Ash and his dragon’s eyes, but Remi doesn’t care—his primal energy surges to the surface too and he snarls back.

  As Remi, I throw a punch and his strength surprises me. And he’s enjoying the fight. His thoughts echo into my head: ‘I’m sick of this dick telling me what to do all the time’.

  Clive counters and I find myself mid-brawl as Remi. The punch I landed on Denny at school—that eventually led me to the academy—is nothing compared to my power now.

  Seamus throws the phone at Amelia and runs towards the trees. "Let’s fucking go!" he yells.

  Through Remi’s eyes, I look up from where Clive has me in a headlock. Amelia approaches my silent, immobile figure, gripping the phone in her hand.

  "Maeve! Stop!" She slaps my face and the shock and her words break my concentration and unhook my mind from Remi’s. I snap back into my own consciousness, now watching Remi from myself again.

  Remi struggles against Clive’s grip, but he’s the weaker of the two. "She did it!" gasps out Remi as blood drips to the ground from his bloodied nose. "The witch took me over."

  "Huh?" Clive looks around at us in confusion.

  "Just fucking run!" yells Seamus.

  "What did you do?" rasps out Remi at me. "I couldn’t control myself."

  "You need to help us. Jamie’s hurt," I stammer.

  "You have the phone. Sort this out yourselves." Clive jabs a finger at me, breath laboured after his fight. "You’re in so much fucking trouble, witch."

  With shaking fingers, Amelia dials a number on the phone, one hand on Jamie’s chest. "You’ll regret this. Wait until Ash hears what you did to his friend."

  "His loyalty isn’t with witches," sneers Clive and wipes his nose with a palm. "And you’re not supposed to attack people with magic."

  "You hypocrite," I shout. "If you report me, I’ll make sure you’re disqualified from the games."

  "Sure, sweetheart."

  "You bastards," yells Amelia, crouching by Jamie again. "Why won’t you help? You could carry him."

  Clive walks over and looks down at the pair on the floor. He blocks the world from Amelia’s view, hunched with arms straight and fists clenched.

  "I won’t help witches anymore. Especially ones who are out of control and dangerous." He twists his thick neck to look at me. "Who attack other students with magic."

  Remi hangs at the edge of the clearing, eyes darting between Clive and us. "Vincent’s right. You’re all trouble. You need keeping under control."

  "Staying away from," adds Clive. He straightens out his shoulders. "So, no. We won’t help. You deserve everything you get."

  "Clive..." pleads Amelia.

  "Use your magic," he spits and turns away.

  "You have the phone," calls Remi, "deal with it."

  Shock and fear trickle cold in my veins as the three guys disappear into the dark.

  "Jamie?" Amelia has one hand on his cheek and her other fingers wrapped around a hand. My stomach leaps as he lifts his head and groans.

  Chapter Twenty

  MAEVE

  Amelia stands beside Jamie, who rests against a tree holding his head in both hands. The shifters' footsteps fade as they sprint away. I peer into the gloom after them and hold my hands against the side of my head, holding in the anger that might prompt me to act stupidly again.

  "What will the guys do?" I ask. "The professors wouldn’t believe them, would they?"

  "Doesn’t matter. Students will believe," gasps out Jamie. "Rumours spread easily. Your power won’t be a secret anymore."

  I turn away from the now-empty trees, to Jamie and Amelia. "Does that matter?"

  "Does it matter if the world discovers you’re a psychic witch with mind control abilities? Yes, it does, Maeve," says Amelia, "You’re more desirable and dangerous."

  "To who?"

  "Everybody." He winces and holds her palm against Jamie’s forehead.

  "You need checking out in case you have a concussion," I say.

  "I’m helping." Amelia strokes his temples with fingers from both hands and incants a spell quietly. "This will steady you Jamie, but I agree with Maeve that you need checking out."

  Jamie’s mouth turns down and I exchange a glance with Amelia. The pain in Jamie’s head isn’t what hurts him most here. Did he lash out to test wh
ether the spell still held?

  Without the pendant, he’s no longer protected by the magic.

  "We should get back," I say. "Report them."

  "How is that possible?" asks Jamie, voice thick. "They’ll tell everybody the whole story. And people will believe them."

  Shit. I pace to the edge of the clearing with my hands in my hair, elbows at right angles. What do we do? First, get Jamie to safety and then—what? I’m about to be exposed and it’s my stupid fault.

  "I’m the only one who did something wrong. I’ll deal with the fallout."

  Faint moonlight illuminates Amelia’s pale face. "I used magic too."

  I turn my eyes to the sky, where the stars peep from behind the clouds and disappear as quickly as clouds move by.

  "Then we have to wipe their memories," I say.

  Jamie coughs a weak laugh. "How? They’ll be back at the sports hall in ten minutes. We can’t catch them."

  I open my mouth to protest at their pessimism, but he’s right. "Then we call Ash and hope he has his phone," I suggest. "Amelia?"

  "We could, but Ash doesn’t have that skill."

  "Tell him to ask Andrei." I smile, the solution simple in my mind.

  "Ask Andrei to wipe a pupil’s mind? Three pupils? Maeve, that’s as illegal as what we did," Amelia protests.

  I rub my cold hand across my nose and scramble for another solution. "Then ask Ash to intercept them before they can talk to people."

  "Oh, god." Amelia’s voice wavers. "Why does all this crap happen to us?"

  I squeeze my eyes closed. Because I’m here.

  "I think Andrei would help," says Jamie softly. "If this threatens Maeve, he’ll step up. Look at how he confronted Tobias."

  "He could ask Tobias for help?" I suggest.

  "Oh, shit," says Amelia. "Wait until he finds out. And Theodora."

  My heart races as we need to make a decision—and quick. "I don’t have Andrei’s number."

  "Andrei didn’t take part, but he’s around. If Ash returns before Clive, this could work. Call him," Jamie urges Amelia.

  With shaking fingers, Amelia does as Jamie asks.

  "What about your head, Jamie?" I ask.

  He shoves his hands in his pockets and kicks stones on the ground in front of him. "I’m the type who’d fall over, aren’t I? Not exactly the ‘sporty’ type. I’ll tell them I ran into a tree."

  I move to give him a hug, but he sidesteps me and keeps his focus to the ground.

  "We can’t let them get away with this, Jamie."

  He lifts his eyes, the pain still in them. "We don’t have any choice."

  "Because of me," I mumble to myself.

  "Oh well, at least I wasn’t shot through the chest. Yet." He swallows. "Something to look forward to, now I’m a hundred percent sure the Blackwood protection is gone."

  "Don’t say that."

  He slumps to the floor and holds his head again. "Why not? It’s the truth."

  Holding a hand on her forehead, a shaky Amelia sends Ash a text.

  ASH

  I wait outside the sports hall on a low metal bench for Maeve and her group to return, and the more time that passes, the more anxious I become.

  I was grouped with Anton and Dane, who aren’t serious about the games and weren’t much help to my itch to win. They happily ambled after me, following my barked directions. Finally, I lost my shit and they speeded up. Despite all this, we were the first group to return. I saw Katherine’s group sprinting through the trees at vampire speed and we picked up our pace too. Vampires vs. shifters—the shifters won. The academy fools themselves if they think we won’t use our skills in competition.

  I check my phone for the time. Two a.m. I expected Clive and his mob back by now, but they’re missing too. Is this a coincidence?

  Professor O’Reilly sits on a bench inside the sports hall. He’s often dour, but tonight he’s tired and irritated—dark shadows sit beneath his eyes and his jaw is hard as he taps his pen on a clipboard. He isn’t my favourite professor, but over the years I’ve attended the academy, I’ve noticed his injuries weaken him further. When he walks around Gilgamesh house, his limp is more pronounced and he rubs his side often, grimacing.

  Vincent stands over him and they talk. I wander over. "Everything okay?"

  Vincent turns me to one side. "The professor is tired. I’m taking over while we wait for the others. Who’s missing?" he asks gruffly.

  "One of the Walcott teams and one of Gilgamesh."

  Vincent snaps his head around. "Gilgamesh? That surprises me. This is your strongest event."

  I shrug. "They probably took a detour via the village."

  "Why?"

  "Any excuse to leave campus," I explain. "Pay a visit to the local pub."

  Instead of anger, Vincent responds with a laugh. "Oh yeah, I remember sneaking into town. Good times. I wonder if that girl’s still around. She was fun."

  He winks at me and I shake my head. Vincent’s popularity shone around him when he attended here, and as his brother, others expected me to take his place when he disappeared.

  This earned me an uncomfortable reputation. I was never the manwhore Vincent once was, but kept up the pretence by surrounding myself with girls.

  Or I did. Last night flickers into my mind.

  We need to talk.

  "Do you remember I brought the chick to the pub? Karen, I think her name was."

  I remember a Karen. At fourteen years old, I’d remember a stunning girl like her. I especially remember her tight tops and ample breasts—almost the only thing on my mind around that time.

  Is he deliberately teasing me again, the way he did back then? I can’t be annoyed, because this reinforces Vincent’s my brother—how could an imposter remember small details about his life in this way?

  I test him a lot. Randomly throw him questions about things we’ve done. The other day, I asked him if he remembered our holiday to France. Confused, he said no.

  The family never holidayed there.

  Nobody can trip this guy up—because he’s Vincent. My brother knows what’s true and what’s false.

  The words become a mantra and people have learned not to question his motives when I can hear. Me and Vincent aren’t dumb. We both know suspicion will follow him for a long time.

  Professor O’Reilly struggles to his feet and heads over to a table and picks up another clipboard, where he logged earlier results. Now we wait for the straggling teams to ensure all times are recorded.

  A message alert sounds on my phone and I pull it from a pocket.

  Amelia.

 

  I frown. Huh?

 

 

  "Everything okay?" Vincent appears at my shoulder and I hastily shove my phone away. "All good."

  His eyes narrow. "You sure?"

  "Yeah."

  Vincent waves a stopwatch at me. "Look out for the final teams. I’ll be back in five."

  With a nod, I take the stopwatch and head back outside.

  What does Amelia mean by ‘Maeve used mind control’? Why would she do that to Clive? Hell, this is one big slip up for her.

  I tap the stopwatch with a finger. Sure, I can intercept Clive, but he won’t listen to me.

  Students loiter in the dark, some sitting on benches outside the sports hall, others on the cold ground. They grumble that they need to wait—although some already snuck away.

  I glance behind me. Vince escorts the professor towards the academy and away from me.

  Why the hell has Amelia asked me? I can’t use mental magic—I’ve never been trained. Whipping the phone out, I check for more messages.

 

 

 

 

  I sense something more has
happened—there’s no way Maeve would use her powers unless she had a reason. Or is she out of control. Crap. I zip up my sports jacket and set off to look for Andrei.

  We haven’t spoken much this term, but that’s Andrei’s fault and not mine. He’s odd, the way he involves himself with us and then immediately retreats. He helped me on Halloween. Assisted with repelling Dominion when Maeve was attacked. We don’t exactly welcome him with open arms, but I like the guy more than I did last year.

  Maeve likes Andrei, and I’ve spotted her unhappiness when he doesn’t speak to us. Is she interested in a vampire? I can’t picture the pair kissing, but if she wanted to, that’s not my call to make. Maeve is a powerful witch and, once she discovers the position this puts her in, Maeve’s life will move further away from human. A witch this powerful will need for more than one person to stand by her, and she’s already created desire to be one of these in a few of us.

  Maeve told me Tobias’s theory that we’re connected for a reason. I can accept that. If he or Jamie can, we won’t have an issue.

  I search for Andrei, approaching groups and not-so-subtly scrutinising them. My pulse races as I keep an eye on the trees, worried that Clive will appear before I have a chance to speak to Andrei.

  Following a fruitless search, I head back inside the hall.

  Andrei sits in the far corner, head resting against the white-painted breeze block with his eyes closed. He opens an eye as I reach him, detecting me before I have a chance to speak.

  "Yeah?" he asks.

  "Maeve needs your help."

  Instantly, Andrei pulls himself to his feet. "What do you mean? Where is she?"

  I dig my hands into my pockets. "Maeve’s still out on the course."

  He shoves hair from his face and darts a look to the door. "Do you want me to fetch her? Do you think she’s hurt?"

  I’m surprised by his animated response, but shouldn’t be. He reacts like this every time Maeve needs something. I never thought I’d see this vamp care for anybody.

  "Maeve’s with Jamie and Amelia." I guide him to one side and lower my voice. I’m annoyed I need to hide this from my brother, but the threat to Maeve is more important. "She’s used mind control on Clive. Amelia messaged to tell me."