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Ritual of Magic (Academy of the Damned Book 2) Page 21
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I try to shake my head, deny it, but he runs his thumb over my lips.
“You pulled away because you weren’t ready after what happened to your boyfriend,” he says. “But that was a long time ago. You’ve come so far. And in all that time, I’ve not been able to stop thinking of you. And I think your feelings for me haven’t gone away, either, no matter how much you’ve tried to push them away.”
It’s like he can read my mind. See into my soul. How is he doing that? I haven’t felt a connection like this with another person since…since Beau.
As much as I hate to admit it, I think Jaxon is right. In the beginning, Beau was all I thought about. I couldn’t push the memories away no matter how much I wanted to. But now, it’s almost as if I have to force myself to remember him. To call him back to me to use as an excuse to keep Jaxon at arm’s length.
Jaxon leans down and places his lips on mine. I close my eyes and let him. No, I do more than let him. I meet him partway.
His kiss is warm and sweet, and I feel emotions and sensations bubble up inside of me that I haven’t felt in almost a year. I want to cry; he tastes and feels so good. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he reaches around my back. We hold each other tight as our mouths drink each other in.
I’m not ready to do more than kiss. But I know I will eventually. The realization is bittersweet. The joy and the pleasure come at the cost of knowing that the one I loved before is truly gone. Not just from this earth, but slipping from my memory as well.
I pull away from Jaxon, and I can sense his disappointment.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “My mind is just overthinking everything.”
“Don’t think,” he whispers in my ear. “Just feel.”
I chuckle and lay my head on his chest, letting him hold me. “If only it were that easy.”
We stand there for a moment, and he slowly rocks me side to side. “So, you’ll stay, right?” he finally asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll stay.”
He kisses my forehead and lets me go. “Good. I’ll leave you alone, then. Let you rest. Mom says not to stress your throat too much.”
I give him a small nod and smile as he leaves. As soon as he’s gone, I go back to packing. I might be getting over Beau, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to run into a relationship with the very first guy who comes along.
Besides, there was something…off. Like he was more concerned with getting me to stay than with me. I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong. Paranoid. Either way, I’m sure I’m still not in the right frame of mind to be in a relationship with someone. I just need to leave. Be alone. Get out of here for a while. Maybe go trekking through Asia. Climb Everest. Explore Africa. Find myself.
Once my bag is packed, I know I can’t just walk out the front door without everyone trying to stop me from leaving.
I open the closet door, run my finger over the mirror, and step through.
Chapter 24
I don’t go very far, dropping myself just outside the school gate. I take a long look at La Voisin house, wondering if anyone is looking back at me. The sky has a gray overcast, giving the house a somber hue. Even though I came here in my darkest hour, I had been full of hope that I would find answers here. I would find help to become the witch I was meant to be.
But all I found was more heartache.
The more time I spend here, the more I am convinced this place doesn’t have Hecate’s blessing. How can she use a place of such danger and so many secrets to train her acolytes? Maybe that should be my new purpose—searching the world for true training in the arcane.
But before I can leave this place, there is one person in town I want to say goodbye to.
The little bell above the door jingles as I enter Ritual of Magic. Gillian is with a customer, but she gives me a smile and wave, motioning for me to look around as I wait. I nod and wander over to a bookshelf to see if she has anything interesting. I can’t help but overhear the conversation between Gillian and the other woman.
“The dreams are just so vivid,” the woman says. “I have had dreams where I have flown before. I think that is normal, right? But these…these are new. When I wake up, I can still feel the air on my face, the condensation on my hands from the clouds I touched. It’s just so real, Gillian. I’m almost scared to go to sleep.”
“You don’t need to be scared,” Gillian says, rubbing the woman’s arm. “Lucid dreaming is nothing to be afraid of. It can be unsettling, but the dreams are not trying to harm you, just send a message.”
“I want them to stop,” the woman says, her hand going to her nose as if to prevent herself from crying.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Gillian asks. “If the universe has a message for you, you should probably listen to it.”
“It’s can’t be anything good,” the woman says. “Why else would the dream be so frightening?”
“I don’t think they’re meant to be,” Gillian says. “Here is what I want you to do. Tomorrow morning, as soon as you wake up, write down your dream in a notebook. Every detail. Even things you think aren’t important or insignificant. If we bring the message into your conscious mind, we might be able to puzzle out what the dream means. Bring me the notebook, and we will try to figure out together what the dream means.”
“Oh, thank you, Gillian,” the woman says. “I’ll be here as soon as you open tomorrow.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Gillian says, her voice as soft and sweet as dove feathers.
“And I’m going to take this pretty green crystal,” the woman says, picking up an interesting raw crystal nearly as big as my hand. “I’ll Paypal you for it.”
“No problem,” Gillian says.
The bell jingles as the woman glides out of the room, her spirits clearly lighter than only a few seconds ago.
“Do you really think she’s having a lucid dream?” I ask as Gillian steps over to her counter to jot something down in her own notebook. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear.”
“I’ll know soon enough,” Gillian says. “Jean Dwyer has always had an inquisitive mind. Very open to the spirits. I wouldn’t be surprised if they are speaking through her.”
My instinct is to roll my eyes and shake my head. There’s no such thing as lucid dreaming or spirit talking. At least, that’s what I have always been taught. But I suddenly remember something that Mr. Stewart said just before…before…I can’t even think about it. But he said something about a spirit clan. But there is no spirit clan. There have only ever been four clans: earth, water, fire, and air. Not spirit. Unless…
I remember the picture of the school founders.
There were five people pictured, not four.
What if there was a fifth clan?
“So, what brings you in today?” Gillian asks, calling me out of my thoughts.
“I…I don’t know,” I say. “I was going to tell you goodbye. I love your shop and wish I had more time to talk to you, but that I needed to be on my way… At least, I thought I did.”
“Goodbye?” Gillian asks. “Are you leaving Salem?”
“I don’t know,” I say again. “Things at the school have only gotten worse. One of the teachers… Well, there was a terrible accident.”
“Really?” Gillian walks around the counter toward me. “I don’t remember reading about any accidents in the paper.”
“You wouldn’t,” I say. “We tend to keep everything ‘in house’ as Ms. Brewster would say.”
“Even the death of a teacher?” Gillian asks.
“How did you know?” I ask, but I don’t feel fear at her knowledge. Just curiosity. “I didn’t say what happened.”
“It’s pretty clear on your face that whatever happened was pretty serious,” Gillian says. “More than just an accident.”
“Well, it was an accident,” I say. “A fatal one.”
“And the police haven’t been notified?” Gillian asks, barely masking the horror in her voice.
I shake my hea
d.
“What kind of school is this, exactly?” Gillian asks.
“It’s for people who are…special,” I say. “Like me. Like Giselle. You did know her, didn’t you?”
“I did,” Gillian says. “She came in here asking for very specific items. Items related to opening her third eye.”
“Why would she be interested in that?” I ask myself, but I said it out loud.
“Giselle was an incredibly powerful psychic,” Gillian says. “The most powerful I’ve ever known.”
“But that’s impossible,” I say. “Psychic powers aren’t real.”
“What makes you say that?” Gillian asks with almost a laugh. “I think it is pretty clear that you have some psychic abilities yourself.”
“What?” I scoff and chuckle. “No. Not me.”
“Then why do you keep coming here?” she asks. “What is drawing you?”
“I just think...it smells good,” I say. “It’s quaint. Cozy. You’re nice. And helpful.”
Gillian gives me a smirk that is somehow a reprimand. I look away. Somehow this woman knows more about me than she should, like she can see inside me. And I don’t know how to guard myself from that.
“I want to help you,” Gillian says. “But I can’t if you aren’t going to be honest with me. You aren’t even being honest with yourself.”
“How do you know this stuff?” I ask her. “It has to be more than intuition.”
“Of course it is,” she says, spreading her hands. “I was born with a gift, but that would be useless without training. It took me a long time to be able to read and interpret auras so quickly.”
“What do you mean?” I ask. “You’re reading my aura? Right now?”
“It’s how I know you’re lying,” she says. “Your words are clouded in darkness, as is your heart. The wound is healing, I’m glad to see, but it will never heal fully until you stop filling your heart and mind with deceit.”
“Could you train me?” I ask her. Maybe the teacher I’m looking for is right here in Salem.
“I don’t want to waste my time on someone who doesn’t believe,” Gillian says. “I already spent a lot of time on Giselle, then she just stopped coming. I haven’t been able to reach her in months.”
“You don’t know?” I ask, feeling my eyebrows pull together.
Gillian’s mouth gapes, and fear crosses her face.
“Know what?” she asks, but I think she already knows the answer.
I don’t reply, which might be cruel, but I want to see just how intuitive she is.
Her hand goes to her mouth, and she gasps a cry. “No! She’s dead? What happened?”
“She was killed by one of the teachers,” I say. “Ms. Boucher.”
“Was she arrested? Why did I not hear…” Her voice drops away. “In house?”
I nod.
She shakes her head as a few tears slip down her cheeks. “She knew La Voisin was dangerous. Full of secrets. But she never thought her life was in danger. At least, she never told me she thought so.”
“How don’t you know what La Voisin is if Giselle used to come here?” I ask.
“She said it was a private high school,” Gillian explains. “I thought there was more to it than that, but I didn’t press her. I figured Giselle would confide in me more as we got to know each other. But now…”
“Now you know why I’m leaving,” I say. “It’s too dangerous. And I feel like there is more I can learn elsewhere.”
Gillian presses her lips together.
“You don’t agree with me?” I ask, surprised.
“Well, from what little I have learned of you, I know you aren’t the type of person to give up easily.”
I smirk. “This was not an easy decision. I have thought about leaving almost since I arrived. But something always pulled me back.”
“Did you hear what I told Jean, the woman who was in here earlier?” Gillian asks. “What I said about listening to the spirits?”
“You think the spirits are talking to me?”
“I think that if you hear a little voice inside of your head telling you something that you can’t identify, the spirits could be behind it.”
“But it’s dangerous,” I persist. “Giselle is dead. Zoey, my second roommate, is missing, possibly dead. I can’t go back there.”
“I understand,” Gillian says. “And I would never tell you to throw yourself in a dangerous path. But, believe it or not, you have very strong guardians around you. I can see their energy in little sparks around you.”
“What, like a guardian angel?” I jest, but Gillian shakes her head seriously.
“Not angels,” she says. “These were once earthly spirits. And they are masculine. Probably a father or grandfather.”
“I’ve never known any male members of my family,” I say. “Mama won’t even talk about Dad.”
“Well, this could be his way of reaching out to you on his own,” she says. “But there is more than one. Do any other male figures stand out in your life?”
Beau, I think. Could he still be with me? Now I really feel guilty about moving on. But then I also think of the statue man. I know he was once a living person. And based on his clothes, he must have lived a long time ago. Could he be an ancestor?
“There are a couple of people I can think of,” I say. “But, what, you think they’re telling me to go back and protecting me from harm?”
“I’m not sure,” Gillian says. “I’m not that powerful. And neither are they. There is only so much the spirits can do in this world. But I think you know that something terrible is going on at La Voisin house. And you can’t stop it if you leave.”
I lean on the counter, putting my face in my hands. I can’t believe this. I was so close to leaving, to being free, to being safe. But once again, I’m being dragged back.
I mean, Gillian is right. I’ll never find Zoey or be able to help the statues if I leave. But why is any of this my responsibility? Who are these people and these creatures to me? Why aren’t they focusing on someone else? Someone more powerful? Someone with stronger ties to the witch community?
Why me?
I sigh. If I leave, I’ll never know.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll go back. But if I end up dead next, it’s on your head!”
“Believe me,” Gillian says. “That is the last thing I want to happen to you. I’ll perform a spell for protection tonight, once the moon is high.”
“Umm, okay, sure,” I say.
“And take this.” She retrieves a velvet bag from high on a shelf and hands it to me. “It’s a mojo-protection bag. It has herbs, crystals, oils, everything you need to do your own protection spell and make your own talisman.”
“Thanks,” I say, taking the bag, still skeptical that Gillian can actually have a connection to any real magic.
“Stay positive,” Gillian says. “Open-minded. Vigilant. Half of all magic lies in our intentions. If you speak it, so mote it be.”
She has a point. Ms. Brewster had said something similar, hadn’t she? About calming my mind when trying to listen to the voice inside me.
“Thanks,” I say. “I’ll be in touch.”
“At least message me on days you can’t come to the shop so I know you’re safe,” Gillian says.
I nod, and the bell over the door jingles as I leave.
I can’t believe I’m heading back to La Voisin…
...back to the lion’s den.
Chapter 25
I walk back to the academy and press the button for the intercom to have someone inside buzz me in. I’m sure I could have found a mirror in town to go straight to my room, but I needed the walk to clear my head anyway .
“Yes?” Ms. Brewster answers through the intercom.
“It’s Madison,” I say. “Let me in, please.”
“Madison?” I hear her chair scrape the floor as she jumps from her seat. I can’t see through her office window, but I wave just the same. “What are you doing out there?”
>
“I just went for a walk,” I say. “Are you going to let me back in?”
She mutters something unintelligible, then the gate beeps. As I walk up the path to the main door, I can almost feel the eyes of countless students peeking out the windows at me. I wonder if any of them knew I left and doubted my return.
When I walk through the front door, Ms. Brewster is there to meet me.
“What’s this all about?” she asks. “I thought you were in your room.”
I shrug and walk past her. “I just needed to clear my head. Get a new perspective.”
She rushes to keep up with me as we climb the main stairwell. “Were you leaving?”
“If I was leaving, why would I be here?” I ask her. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Well, that is good to know,” she says, eyeing my bag full of my clothes and things. “Still, I don’t want you leaving the school again without notifying me.”
I stop and turn to her. “What? Why?”
“It’s dangerous out there,” she says. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“What do you mean dangerous?” I ask. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing new,” she says. “But with two of your roommates coming to…bad ends...I think it is wise to simply be cautious.”
“Zoey vanished weeks ago,” I say. “You never worried about me before now. What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing,” she says with a sigh of exasperation. “I just realized, after our talk earlier about what more I could do, that I should keep a closer eye on you. For your protection.”
I nod and take a deep breath, then exhale slowly, listening for the voice deep inside me.
She’s getting too close… Can’t let her find out…
It’s Ms. Brewster’s voice I hear. But it’s very faint. I can’t quite keep a hold of it.
“Madison?” she says, breaking me out of my thoughts.
“Hmm?” I ask.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” she asks. “You don’t seem quite…here.”
I smile sweetly. “I’m fine,” I say. “I just need to get to my room and get back to my studies.”