I lie in the foreign bed with the old house creaking and popping. My eyes burn with a mix of anger and sorrow that I'm stuck in this place where I don't belong.
A feeling like someone grasps my shoulder makes me leap up, I bang my head on the headboard. I look around. There's no one in my room but me. With my heart still beating triple-time, I lay back down, tucking my covers up to my chin. A whisper dances across my forehead and I rub at the spot. My mind dredging up all kinds of scenarios. I'm sure it's all from stress, tiredness, and wanting to be back home.
So I close my eyes. I try to force myself to sleep, but I'm so exhausted from the trip and stress that it doesn't take much and I drift off at some point.
* * *
A man is holding me. Kissing me so passionately that I moan, clutching his shoulders. The scent of honeysuckle and musk fills my nostrils. I kiss him back, my hands reaching up to cup his face. His hair over his upper lip tickles me and I frown. Lance doesn't have a mustache.
The man moves his lips to my neck, murmuring something I can't make out. His cool breath against my skin sends shivers of pleasure rippling through me.
His hands are cool against my hot flesh as he trails his palms down my arms and across my stomach. An ache builds inside of me. His touch just under my breasts unravels me. I grasp ahold of his shoulders, desperate to hang on. His lips brush mine, his fingers tangle into my hair, tilting my head back and deepening the kiss.
I grind my hips against his, wanting so much more. His body feels heavy against mine. His muscles feel lean under my fingertips as I trace the outline of him. I try to open my eyes, to see him, but I can't.
The bed shifts slightly as he pulls back from my lips.
"Don't leave me yet," he whispers. His accent is slightly lilted and I can't quite place it other than it sounds proper.
He starts kissing me on my neck, then along my jawline and down my neck.
I shiver. My mind turning to mush as I arch into him. My breaths quicken. This dream feeling so real that I can't stop. Don't want this fantasy to end. It excites and frightens me at the same time. What if this isn't a dream? I am in a supernatural school, after all.
My specter's kisses pause. Can he sense my mood? The change in the air between us now crackles with tension. What about Lance? He is my boyfriend and here I am making out with a dream lover?
He breaks this kiss with a hiss, his addictive weight suddenly gone and I feel the loss so strongly that I let out a gasp. My lips still tingle from his kiss. I sit up in bed, glancing around the small dorm room.
It is quiet and dark. My covers are askew but nothing else is amiss. I lift my fingertips to my mouth, still feeling warmth and pressure there.
Had it all been a dream? Slowly, I lie back down, forcing myself to push away the heat pooling between my legs and crave the lust-filled fantasy to return.
I turn, pressing my head into the pillow, and let out a frustrated scream.
Bad enough I have to be in this school. Now I'm having sexual dreams too? I force my mind back on Lance, picturing his sideways smile and touch. But for the rest of the night, sleep eludes me. My mind and body are haunted by the want of another's touch. Of someone who I'm sure must have been conjured up in my mind because of the paranoia of being in this academy.
***
The next morning, I rub my bleary eyes. I spent most of the night tossing and turning because of the intense dream. Even the little sleep I did manage, didn't bring back the guy with the amazing kisses. Part of me is relieved, but a bigger part feels the loss and emptiness as if I've hollowed out part of my heart.
I had been so desperate to sleep that I pulled out the magical histories textbook. Instead of helping my insomnia, its stories of goblins and other creatures and even the word nightmares came from a demonic fae spirit made sleep impossible.
Is that what had happened to me? Except, it wasn't a bad dream, just really steaming hot. And I am dating Lance, not some illusion.
I don't belong here. The sooner everyone realizes what I know, the better.
Dragging myself out of bed, I take a quick shower, then dry off. My hair is damp and I gather it into a ponytail to save time since I can't find a hairdryer anywhere. One more thing to add to the list of purchases I need if I can get a reprieve from here to go shopping.
The unopened uniforms sit on top of the dresser and I sigh. Cracking the seal on them feels like this is me accepting my fate. But I already know in a place like this, it is expected that I dress like everyone else. I don't want to draw negative attention to myself. I had hoped that this morning would have brought the Headmistress rapping on my door to say they'd made a mistake. But no such luck.
After I dress in the itchy red and black checkered skirt, I toss on my flats. The idea of eating breakfast makes me nauseous.
I exit my room and pause in the hallway, because I've no idea where classes are in this place. There wasn't time to show me around. The Academy is a three-story mansion that resembles a Victorian-Goth style architecture.
Well, I'll look around until I find someone to show me the way or find it myself.
My sneakers squeak across the title as I stroll down the hallway, the book of magical history tucked under my arm. I scratch at the collar of my shirt which feels like it's choking me and soaked in so much starch it's stiff like it could stand up on its own.
I round the corner and find Gwen standing with her two groupies.
Wonderful.
"Hi," I say cheerier than I feel. Don't even ask which way the class is because I already know they either won't tell me or will point me in the wrong direction.
She rolls her eyes. "As long as you're here, you might as well accept our customs."
A glance between her and her friends and me shows we are all wearing the same stupid uniform. "How so?"
"Initiation."
I lift my chin. All freshman year, upperclassmen picked on me and the other "fish" until school was over for that year. I've no wish to repeat that, but I don't plan on staying here long either. "Sorry, I wasn't going to join any sororities or anything. I'm just here until they figure out they were wrong so I can go back to my old school."
Her smile doesn't reach her turquoise eyes. "That's what I think too. You're much too plain to be anything other than an ordinary human."
"Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get to class."
A whoosh danced across my skin and I couldn't move forward. Has she set up a barrier? I push against the invisible force.
"I wasn't done." She cleared her throat. "As long as you are here, you'll obey the house rules. Which means, everyone has to do our school's initiation. It's a tradition."
"Fine." I didn't care about this place only in how soon I could leave it. But with her using her witchy powers to keep me from leaving, I have no choice.
She claps her hands, letting out a gleeful laugh.
Shit. What have I just agreed to?
* * *
I leave Gwen and the other two girls as the forcefield keeping me from moving vanishes. Rather than waste time for them to figure out some prank on me like turning my blond hair green, I briskly walk to the front doors. A thought to keep going strikes me. Just walk until I reach the bus stop, then head home.
My shoulders slump because I know that they'll find me and bring me back. Best option is to convince them as soon as possible that they made a mistake.
I turn from the ancient, wooden doors to find the Headmistress watching me.
"Morning, Mrs. Decan." I shift the heavy book to my other hip.
"Miss Sutton." She nods. "Let me show you to your class. Oh and here's a map of the grounds."
A piece of paper flutters from out of nowhere to flap in front of me. I grasp it out of the air and a tingle shoots up my arm. There's a detailed drawing of the dorm we're inside along with a few classes and the cafeteria on the second and third floors. Behind is a small garden, several other buildings marked as Magical lab, Magical Mathematics & Science Building, Library, Gymnasium, and cemetery.
"Cemetery on campus?" I blurt out. "Sorry. I'm just not use to all of this."
"Yes, we have a gravesite on the premises. It helps the necromancers in their studies."
"Wait. Like raising people from the dead- zombies?" Now I really have to run away from here. I hate all those zombie movies with the dead trying to eat the livings' brains. I could deal with horror movies, but not those.
"You got something against necromancers?" A girl with dark hair woven with purple strands leans against the wall.
"Ah, no." I shook my head. "But the idea of a corpse chasing me freaks me out."
She snorts. "Guess it's lucky that we haven't covered controlling zombies in class yet."
"Y-you're a necromancer?"
"Brene, this is Melanie," Mrs. Decan says. "I've asked her to accompany you to your classes and ensure you're settled in."
"So I told you what mine is, what's yours?" Melanie asks, pushing away from the wall.
"My what?"
Mrs. Decan waves goodbye to us and enters her office, closing the door after her.
"Power. I can talk to the dead, do seances; that shit. What about you?"
"Nothing. I'm not a witch."
"Oh. You're not a vamp or you'd be groggy right now." She clicks her tongue making the silver piercing tap against her teeth. "Are you a fae or were then?"
"No, you misunderstand me. I'm not a supernatural, I'm only human."
"That's impossible." She draws back. "Only non-humans are allowed here."
I shrug. "If you have any ideas of how to prove that to everyone, I'm all ears."
"Wow, a human, huh?" Melanie walks closer to me and sniffs.
"Are you part werewolf too?" I ask, tucking the map of this huge place in the magical history book.
She laughs. "I like you. C'mon, guess I'm following your schedule today. Do you have a copy?"
"Sure." I hand her the slip of paper that had been in my dorm room last night.
Before I can say anything, she grabs my arm and rushes me outside. "You've got Mr. Bergins first thing? That sucks."
We run down the stone path, past a small garden and water fountain with carved, marble fairies. When we head toward the cemetery, I dig my heels into the ground.
"What is it?" She stops and faces me.
"Why are we heading to the graveyard? I thought Magical History was over there." I point to our right.
"It was until Mr. Bergins joined our Academy. Now it's past the cemetery."
I frown, pulling out my map. Is she trying to trick me? "There's nothing there."
"Brene, I'm not pranking you."
"This says you are." I wave the paper at her.
"Turn it over."
I do so and find a blank page. "Nothing on this side."
"No, like this." She traces her finger along the path we are on, then flips the paper over again. This time, a glowing line shows another set of buildings.
"What the hell?"
"There's a leyline that crosses the cemetery." She hands me back the glowing paper. "We use it to move across time and space to Mr. Bergins' class."
"Like teleporting?"
"Magical teleporting, but yeah." She beams. "You're not scared are you?"
"Hell no." I tuck the paper inside my book, excitement trilling through me. "Used to binge-watch Star Trek shows every summer."
"See? I knew I liked you." She loops her arm in mine. "I am an excellent judge of character both the living and dead."
A shiver rakes down my spine as we walk past the graveyard's gate and a heady scent of honeysuckle and musk make my mouth go dry. Where have I smelled that before?
Tombstones litter across the green grass. A few are cracked and one is broken in half. Some spiral out in patterns that don't make any sense while others are straight in a line.
"Here we are." Melanie stops in front of a marble statue of a fairy looking down on a gravesite. "Just follow my lead."
She takes one of the statue's hands and I do the same. A tingle leaps up my arm. I cringe, jumping back and rubbing my palm on my uniform skirt.
"What's wrong?" she asks.
"Nothing." Did she not feel anything when she touched the statue? I take the marble hand again and let out a breath when nothing happens. "Guess I'm just jumpy."
"Well, hold on to your bootstraps then, cause this will be the ride of your life."
Before I can ask her what she means, she closes her eyes and the graves around us flip upside down. I feel like I'm falling through an endless black hole. Pinpricks jab along every inch of skin. My hair stands on end like I'm touching a Van de Graaff generator.
Then my feet strike the ground and I fall, my hand slipping from the statue. I clutch the grass in my hands, dry-heaving.
"Sorry, the first time is rough." Melanie rubs my back. "Try to breathe deeply."
I struggle to draw in air, my vision going blurry. A flash of grey eyes pierces me. I blink, sitting back on my ass. But the vision is gone.
"Better?" Melanie asks.
It's nighttime now and everything looks different except the marble fairy.
"Where are we?" I lick my lips, noting they are dry and cracked.
"France. Just outside Lyon to be exact. We're at the French Hollowhaven Academy."
She helps me stand. I hold onto her arm as my legs wobble. The world tilts but I swallow back the bile surging into the back of my throat.
"Did you see anything when we crossed over here?" I ask, my voice is hoarse.
"Like what?" She leads me to a two-story brick building. "There's the blackness of the leyline before we land here. Why, what did you see?"
I shake my head, not knowing her well enough to trust her. It was probably my imagination playing tricks on me. Yet even now, those grey eyes haunt me. "Same as you. Didn't know if everyone saw things differently or not."
"No, thankfully."
"Would it be bad if someone did see something that wasn't there or unusual?" I open the door to the building, wanting to get this class and this day over with.
She pauses, frowning. "Yeah, I suppose it's possible but it's not a good sign."
A sick sensation punches me in the stomach. "What do you mean?"
"That the person could be susceptible to spirits. Like a hijinks- spiritual possession."
Is that what nearly happened to me? Or the dream last night? We enter the building, making our way down the hallway to a room stuffed with desks and students pulling out their textbooks.
"How would someone protect themselves if that was the case?" I ask Melanie.
She shrugs. "Protection amulets. No ritualistic magic near a leyline."
We take our seats and I lean over to whisper, "So it could make someone be haunted by a ghost or raise the dead?"
"No." She shakes her head. "Necromancy isn't easy. The moon has to be in the right phase, the time right depending on who you're trying to raise or contact. Blood sacrifice. Lots of stuff."
I must look scared because she reaches over and pats my hand. "Don't worry. Nothing that a human, even trying, would be able to do."
Somehow her words don't comfort me.