Second Chance Heat, a reverse harem magical academy HEA paranormal romance: Book Four of the Second Chance Academy Series

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Second Chance Heat, a reverse harem magical academy HEA paranormal romance: Book Four of the Second Chance Academy Series Page 12

by Ella J. Smyth


  I had no choice but to keep marching until we reached a brightly lit room. The commander opened the door for us, and the bastard behind me shoved hard enough that I fell to my knees.

  I turned back and glared at him. “You must be feeling really brave pushing a girl around, you coward.”

  The private lifted his foot as if he wanted to kick me in the back, but a sharp command from his superior stopped him.

  “Don’t try anything. There’s still a gun pointed at your boyfriend's head.” The officer bent and cut the zip ties.

  Macha was left outside, but the moment the officer left the cell, they freed Macha’s hands and pushed him through the door, slamming it shut behind us. I helped him to his feet, and we sat on one of the narrow beds in the room.

  “Did they hurt you?” he whispered.

  “No, just roughed me up a little.” I rolled my shoulders and rubbed my knees where I’d landed. We listened to the soldiers’ steps moving away, but couldn't see a thing through the glass plate that made up the front of the room. Soon, the only noise was the humming of the neon lamps high on the ceiling.

  Eventually, I got up. “Let’s see if we can’t get out of here.”

  To test their security, I flipped my fingertips at the barrier. A crackling lightning bolt hit the glass and ricocheted back into the room. Macha screeched when it hit the other side of the room and bounced back a second time.

  “Don't do that,” he snarled. “That could have hit us.”

  “Sorry. I just wanted to see how strong the glass is.”

  The energy had bounced back with the sound of a thunderclap. I waited for soldiers to respond to the noise, but everything stayed quiet.

  We sat back down, Macha leaning heavily on me. He was on the verge of falling asleep when I said, “Hey, Macha.”

  He lifted his head, waiting for me to continue.

  “What kind of powers do you have?”

  Macha blinked. “Powers? I don't have any.”

  I pursed my lips. “Yeah, I don’t believe that. See, when I use my magic, it depletes me. But if I have sex with a compatible partner, it recharges me. What we did in the library room made me stronger. That only happens with elemental mages.”

  Macha shook his head. “Don’t you think I’d know if I had magic?”

  “Do you remember anything before you got turned into a cat?”

  “I remember having a mom, a dad, and a brother. There was a dog named Bouncer.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Everything is really fuzzy. I don’t remember getting turned. There are glimpses of my life in my memory, but nothing detailed. School, getting my driving license, it all pops in and out like flashes. And then it stops completely, and all I can remember is being a cat.”

  “So how did you know it was Farkas who did it?”

  Macha rubbed his temples. “For the longest time, all I remembered was a tall woman with black hair and burning eyes. And then when you came to the academy and I followed you, I knew Farkas was the one. She gloated whenever she saw me. I tried to stay out of her way, but I also wanted to know what she was up to. So I followed her.”

  “I saw you, you know? Farkas was taunting you and called you ‘Macha.’ That's how I knew your name.”

  He grimaced. “Yeah, the first time you said it, I freaked out. I'd gotten so used to being called Slug.”

  I took his hand and squeezed it. Macha smiled and closed his eyes. For a few minutes, we fell back into a comfortable silence. The excitement of the last few days had caught up with us.

  But then Macha opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. “Julian is here.”

  I stiffened. This was ridiculous. “Why do you keep saying that? You know Julian is dead.”

  Macha sat up and glared at me. “Stop treating me like an idiot. I don't know why you can’t just believe me. I'm looking right at him.”

  I struggled to stay calm. “Prove it. Ask him how he felt when I accepted his invitation to the ball right away.”

  Macha listened intently, his mouth pulling into a grin. “Julian says, and I quote, ‘What do you mean, right away? You made me wait for weeks. I thought you’d never agree to it.’”

  I felt like somebody had hit me in the chest with a hammer. I’d never told Slug that. “Oh my God. Is he really here?”

  Macha laughed. “Yes. And he’s pissed at you for not believing me sooner.”

  I gulped. After all the time I’d spent at the Academy, after all the unbelievable things I’d seen and learned, I should have been more open-minded. So ghosts were real. That wasn’t any more weird than nixies or Fae. “Why is he a ghost?”

  Macha kept his gaze fixed at the ceiling. “He doesn't know. But Lance and Kiernan are close by and safe.”

  He listened again. “There are cameras. Julian says to be careful what we say.”

  He dropped his voice, covering his mouth with his hand, just in case. “Kiernan and Lance have agreed to join the FBMA.”

  My jaw dropped. “Why would they do that?”

  “Kiernan's mom is running this unit.”

  20

  Amber

  Macha’s head lay on my lap. He’d offered to be the go-between between Julian and myself, but I’d declined. It was too much. My head was swimming with the new information. As I stroked Macha's hair, I tried to sort through my scrambled thoughts.

  Kiernan and Lance were held right here, at the same facility, run by Kiernan's mom, apparently. It wasn’t news to me that she worked for the FBMA. But that she was in the field, involved with abducting her own son? And that Mrs. Palmer worked with her?

  My head dropped back against the wall. This was insane. I’d gotten this information from my dead lover who was still floating through the room. So far, I only had Macha’s word for it. In fact, all the information I'd gotten had come from Macha.

  Sure, he’d told me stuff about Julian I was pretty sure he’d had no way of knowing. But that was the thing. I couldn't be one hundred percent sure. When he’d been Slug, I’d shared most things with him. My cheeks heated up as I remembered the more intimate moments the cat had walked in on. I'd pranced naked through the room, never giving it a moment's thought. After all, he was only a cat. Or so I’d thought.

  Humiliation made me press my eyes tightly together. It wasn't his fault. The one thing we knew for sure was that Farkas was evil. And yet—if Macha was right, and Kiernan had joined his mom's unit, what did that mean? Had he once again caved into her demands and turned against me?

  But why had we been brought here in the first place? The soldiers hadn't been friendly. At least one of them had hated me for being a magic user. Just like Lawson and my dad.

  I used both hands to cradle my skull and pull at my hair. I felt helpless, exposed in this cell, watched by cameras and invisible eyes beyond the glass wall.

  A rhythmic noise drew my attention. Steps. They got louder and stopped outside the room. The lock opened with a click, and two men marched in, standing to attention on either side of the door. Two more soldiers followed, pointing their guns at us.

  I shook Macha, and we both got to our feet. I stared at them while my heart pounded in my throat. Neither of us said anything. A fifth man was still outside. I couldn't see him, but I heard his voice.

  “Take the boy.”

  I recognized the agent’s voice. One of the soldiers gestured at Macha with the barrel of his weapon. “You heard the man. Move it.”

  Macha shrunk against the wall, his eyes wide and frightened.

  “No,” he whispered. I stepped in front of him.

  “What do you want with him?” I asked, my voice sounding much braver than I felt.

  The soldier ignored me. “You need to come with us. Now.”

  “You can't have him.”

  The man in the black suit entered the cell. “Don't be stupid, Amber. Nobody's going to hurt him.”

  “Can't you see he’s scared?” My voice wavered as I pleaded.

  The soldier stepped up and
grabbed Macha by the arm. Macha yowled in fear and scratched the man across the wrist. Everything happened really fast. The soldier cursed and pistol-whipped Macha across the face. I flung my arm towards him and released a bolt.

  The man in black shouted, “No!”

  The soldier sidestepped my attack and brought up his rifle, aiming it directly at me. Macha jumped in front as the man pulled the trigger. When the noise had died down, Macha lay motionless on the ground, a puddle of red liquid slowly spreading under him. My exhales sounded like sobs to my own ears.

  The memory of what had happened in Faerie washed over me, clogging up my senses. Julian hadn’t moved either, just like Macha now. Back at the Fae jail, I’d knelt in a pool of Julian’s blood, watching his life drain away. The trembling started in my hands and quickly spread through my entire body. The floor tilted, and I flopped heavily onto the bed.

  The man in black screamed into his watch, “We need medics. One man down. Yes, gunshot.”

  Then he rolled Macha onto his back and checked his pulse. His face was grim when he pulled the blanket off the bed, bunched it up, and pushed it as hard as he could against Macha’s chest.

  “Is he…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “He’s alive,” the man said harshly. He didn’t need to add, “For now.”

  “There so much blood.” I was still shaking uncontrollably, huddled against the wall. Before the agent could answer, two men entered the room. They wore shrubs and carried a stretcher. Quickly and efficiently, one of them cut Macha’s shirt open. They blocked my view, and Macha still hadn’t moved. The two EMTs kept a running conversation, but I only caught scraps.

  “It’s a through-and-through. Get the OR ready,” one of them said into a walkie-talkie.

  “His BP is dropping. We need to get moving.”

  Within seconds, they’d loaded Macha onto the gurney. All the men filed out after them until I was alone. Only the agent in the black suit stayed behind. He stood in front of me, regarding me silently. His face was void of emotion, and I couldn't read him at all.

  “This is my fault, isn't it?” I finally asked, my voice hoarse and broken.

  He didn't respond. Instead, he sat next to me with a sigh. “Let's start again. Hi. My name is Jim Callahan, and I run an investigation into human trafficking from the Academy. Our main suspect is your principal, Ms. Farkas. I believe you can help, and I’d like you to work with us.”

  I hadn’t expected this at all. My eyes narrowed as I stared at him. “When you dragged me to the Academy—was that part of your plan?”

  There was a hint of regret in his voice when he answered. “No. The Academy was the best place for you. We still consider you to be a danger to yourself and others.”

  I protested. “That's not fair. If I couldn’t control myself, I would have destroyed you this morning.”

  “Macha got shot because of you.”

  I jumped up. “That's bullshit. Your men were pointing guns at us. Did you expect me to just sit here and do nothing?”

  Agent Callahan watched me calmly as I lost my shit. I was vibrating with anger.

  “You explode without any thought to the consequences. That's why Macha got hurt. The FBMA try their best to integrate the magic-turned into society without causing a panic. We don't just lock up kids for no good reason. What you think would happen if you lost your temper because some guy pushed past you in the street? When I first met you, your power signature was off the chart. It's gotten only stronger since. We’re monitoring you. To be fair, you’ve made great progress in your time at the Academy. That's why we are offering you a chance to work with us. If you join us, we will guarantee your safety and further training.”

  All the fight drained out of me. I sat back down and asked, “What's the catch?”

  “You help us fight Farkas and her allies. We don't know how big the trafficking ring is.”

  “What about my friends?”

  “We are making the same offer to them.”

  I already knew how they’d decided. Could I trust him? I didn’t want to make what felt like a momentous decision by myself, but what choice did I have? “When can I see Kiernan and Lance?”

  He regarded me with a calm gaze, giving away nothing. “If you accept our offer, very soon.”

  “And what about Macha?” Please, let him be okay.

  “I’ll find out.”

  There was really no choice. If this was my ticket out of here, I’d take it.

  “I'm in.”

  21

  Julian

  Macha collapsed. Once again, I couldn’t do a damn thing. I liked the kid. Apart from his gorgeous looks, he’d been a great friend to Amber. We’d always gotten on when he was a cat. I didn’t want him to die.

  For a brief moment I considered how much better my afterlife would be if I had a companion. But I didn’t wish my existence on anybody, particularly a nice kid like Macha.

  After I’d made sure Amber was okay, I followed my link to the injured cat boy. The EMTs brought him to a medical room where a team of surgeons waited for him.

  They removed the bullet before painstakingly patching him up. Have you ever watched a doctor pull a thread through wound edges and tie each knot off separately? It took forever. But finally, they were done, and Macha was wheeled into a separate room.

  I followed him and hovered near his bed. He was the only person I could talk to. The disembodied voices hadn’t followed me here, it seemed. Which was fine by me. They’d freaked me out, and if I never heard them again, it would be too soon for me.

  And so I waited for Macha to wake up so I wouldn’t be so alone. But also because I needed to discuss Kiernan’s betrayal of Amber and their relationship. His mother hated Amber. That much had been clear from the way she’d talked about her. So why would Kiernan play along with that?

  * * *

  Amber

  * * *

  Worrying about my friends ate me up inside. This was absolute torture. I was on my own in my cell. The light was always on, and nothing ever changed. I had no way of telling how much time had passed.

  After everybody had left the cell, I waited. Then I paced. Then I waited again. Like a reminder of my failure, the puddle of Macha’s congealing blood sat right by the door. I tried to keep my gaze averted, but I couldn't block out the smell.

  There were vents pumping fresh air into the enclosed space, but they couldn't remove the coppery, nauseating stench that seemed to get worse with every passing minute. At one stage, I stood underneath the cameras and waved.

  “Can you send somebody and clean this up?” I shouted.

  Nobody came. Eventually, I had enough. I grabbed a towel from the bathroom, knelt down, and scrubbed. I gagged once or twice in the beginning, but soon I was numb to the smell and the red stains on my hands. Actually, cleaning made me feel better. Removing the blood felt like penance. By the time the floor was clean and the towel rinsed in the shower, I was soaked, but felt a lot calmer. I showered and dozed on the bed, waking on and off whenever steps passed by the cell.

  I woke up starving. I couldn’t remember when I’d last eaten. Nobody had come to clear away the remains of lunch, and I finished the two chocolate chip cookies meant for dessert. It didn’t do much to fill me up and made my stomach roil.

  When the door finally opened, agent Callahan walked in. He pulled up a chair and sat down, gesturing at the other chair. “Have a seat. I’ve got news about Macha. The surgeons were able to repair most of the damage. The bullet passed through the top of his chest without damaging any vital areas. He lost a lot of blood. They won’t know if he suffered any nerve damage until he wakes up. But he's a young man and should heal up well.”

  I expelled a whoosh of air. Until the weight fell off me, I hadn't realized how tense I'd been ever since Macha had been carried out on a stretcher.

  Callahan got up and walked to the door. “Actually, I came to tell you you can visit him if you want.”

  I jumped to my feet. “Why d
idn't you say so right away?”

  He grinned. “What would be the fun in that?”

  “This is fun to you?”

  Still smirking, he held the door for me. “Consider it a little payback for all the trouble you caused.”

  As we retraced the way I’d passed just recently, I marveled at how different everything seemed, now that I knew my friends were safe.

  Callahan opened a door that looked no different to all the others. But once inside, I found a hospital setting that put the facility at the Academy to shame. Four beds sat side-by-side, each neatly made with fresh linen, except for the last one.

  Macha lay with his eyes closed and his body connected to several machines and drips. The vital signs monitor beeped in comforting, familiar intervals. What the TV programs couldn’t show was the nauseating smell of plastic and surgical spirit. All smells I associated with visiting my granny when I was a child.

  His copper skin seemed pale, but maybe that was the overhead light.

  “You can have as much time as you want, nurse permitting.”

  Ignoring Callahan, I sat on the chair next to Macha’s bed. His hands rested by his side. The one closest to me was connected to an infusion. There were no breathing tubes, thank God. “When is he going to wake up?”

  “Pretty soon, the doc said. He’s been out of surgery for hours.”

  As if on cue, Macha’s eyelids fluttered. I took his hand carefully, not wanting to disturb the needle, and squeezed his fingers.

  “Macha,” I whispered. “Can you hear me?”

  He opened his eyes, but didn't seem to be able to focus on me. “Amber?”

  I fought the urge to burst into tears. “I'm here, love.”

  He smiled. “You never called me that before.”

  I squeezed again. “Don't think you’re off the hook. I'm only not shouting at you because I'm so glad you aren't dead. What were you thinking, taking a bullet for me for?”

 

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