Page 39 of Blood Rose


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“It was… really… nice,” he finished and then gave me a smile.

And then he left, disappearing up the stairs after Morgana. I closed my eyes, smiling, savoring the taste of his mouth on mine.

Chapter Fifteen

“Do you think she’s alive?” I asked.

Well, ‘thought’ was probably a more accurate description.

Oleander and I were facing each other on our respective cushions, eyes closed, hands clutched around a carved piece of moonstone. Professor Lavant was in the process of teaching us how to commune with a partner on a higher level of consciousness, giving us a few lessons to adjust to psychic communication before we’d need to learn how to defend ourselves from attacks of this nature. Some demonic species could worm their way into your head from another plane and control even the toughest supernatural. Not so long ago, a Reaper Demon had managed to put a whammy on Wanda, making my cousin put on her best Linda Blair impression. I’d only survived the night by warding myself inside my bedroom.

I peeked in time to watch Oleander grimace, either in response to my question, or the barrage of images from Wanda’s demonically induced freak out. The whole point of this exercise was to maintain control of our thoughts so an invader couldn’t use them against us. So far, I wasn’t having much success. It was hard to concentrate with Vivian and her hive erupting into fits of giggles every few minutes.

They were probably gossiping about my encounter with Rook the night before. Vivian must have woken every witch in the west wing of the castle with that bit of juicy news because it was the talk of the school by morning. Astrid Depraysie was dating the headmaster’s son. Most of them were of the opinion that I was only maintaining my place in the school because the headmaster was pulling strings to keep me at Blood Rose.

“Ack!” Oleander thought frantically as my mind turned to memories of Rook’s mouth on mine. “Don’t do that! I don’t want to know what it’s like to kiss him!”

“Are you sure?” I teased. “Because it was pretty great.”

“I swear I will tie every inch of your hair into elf-locks if you make me kiss Rook vicariously again.”

I believed him. Oleander didn’t have the same kind of raw power I did, but he had over four decades of experience playing tricks on humans and his fellow monsters. He had enough power and skill to turn my hair into a rat’s nest in seconds if I continued. So, with effort, I pushed thoughts of Rook out of my mind and returned to my original question.

“Do you think Shasta is alive? That any of the missing faeries are still out there?”

Oleander didn’t respond consciously. Instead, images of a young faerie danced before my eyes. She was beautiful, in the alien sort of way some of the faeries were. She was tiny and slender as a reed. In Oleander’s memory, her long, curling hair had been caught on a breeze, blending almost seamlessly with the wave of dandelion fluff that rose from an overgrown yard in the fall. Her eyes were too large for her face but danced with a wholesome light that kept them from looking too alien.

Then the scene shifted as his fears crept in. In his mind’s eye, he saw his wisp of a cousin lying pale and broken on the floor. He imagined her dead or maimed. A thousand scenarios flitted through his thoughts, most of them depressing. In his more hopeful moments, he’d entertain the thought that she’d run off with a boy and gotten out of this place, but we both knew that was just wishful thinking. Blood Rose was the only answer to poverty in the area. Even if Shasta wanted to escape, she’d never survive on the outside without money and supplies.

“I hope so,” Oleander sighed. His mental exhaustion washed over me, curling my shoulders forward. “But do I think it’s likely? No.”

“So?” I thought back to him.

“I think someone killed her, and now the establishment is covering it up. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it seems to be mostly legacy staff that are being targeted. We’re invisible to the rest of the student body. The only reason Viv keeps giving me this much flack is because I’m hanging around with you and Morgana. Without that association, I’d be just another nameless faerie, one of the serfs that tends to her stuck-up family’s every need. Pair that with our high washout rate... well, no one is going to miss us. It reminds me of those stories about serial killers. They target high-risk victims first.”

“But why just faeries?” I wondered. “You’re still tough customers, even if you aren’t as physically strong as a werewolf or sasquatch. But, let’s face it, faerie magic can be just as hard to contend with as witch magic. And yet, no one has shown up with evidence of faerie mischief on their faces. If the faeries were dead, you think they’d at least make their attackers pay for it. Boils, blemishes, sudden balding, or something. But zip. Nada.”

“Shasta wouldn’t have cursed anyone, even if they were trying to kill her,” Oleander thought sadly. “She was too gentle for that. She was a true summer faerie, not a fence-straddler like me. She just wanted a world of unending warmth and fun, where everyone played in the sunlight. She cried when she accidentally killed a bug, so she wouldn’t have raised a hand to her attacker, even to save her own life.”

I felt a pang for Shasta, though I only knew her from Oleander’s memories. She seemed like such a kind soul. I’d have been lucky to have her as a friend, but thanks to someone in this castle, I never would. In all likelihood, she’d died before I’d ever set foot on this campus. And now Vivian and Hecate were trying to cover it up. Even if they weren’t the ones responsible, they were willing to sweep the missing students under the rug just to save face. Her giggles spurred my fury higher every time they rang out.

“We’re going to find her,” I promised Oleander. “We’re going to get an answer, one way or the other… I promise.”

***

Dating a vampire in a school full of witches was like strapping a ‘hex me’ sign to my back. A lot of the animosity had died down after the first couple of weeks as Vivian’s cronies got bored. Now that my ‘relationship’ with Rook was public knowledge, I was the constant target of students and teachers. I’d racked up a lot of unnecessary demerits and Professor Hecate was the only reason I hadn’t been transferred to the night class. She’d been able to scrub some of my record, reasoning that getting into a night class with Rook would only be rewarding unseemly behavior by allowing my schedule to align with his.

But the worst part? I only cared about it in the abstract. There were more important things to concentrate on than acing my classes. My mission to best Vivian Grimsbane had taken a backseat to my determination to free the faeries. And on that subject, Vivian was involved somehow, but I wouldn’t be able to figure out her motive by scribbling down Elder Futhark combinations in a notebook.

The days marched heartlessly on, heedless of my fears surrounding our upcoming mission. Every day that I failed to make progress made me more anxious. I needed to get this right. The dance was now just days away, and I’d only managed to consistently leap from one end of a corridor to the other. I supposed I could leapfrog all of us to the nearest town, but it would wear me down.

I was already exhausted from my early mornings, my sub-par food intake, and the vivid dreams about Rook. Late nights made things worse. At least Morgana managed to sneak snacks into my bag in the morning, so I wasn’t dead on my feet. By the time I finished training with Oleander in the evenings, I was barely standing. After the first night, he’d had to half-carry me back. Mads had caught us at it a few times, and by this point, she probably thought I had a drinking problem. She didn’t turn me in, though, for which I was grateful.

“Do you have your focus stone?” Oleander asked, his eyes darting around the empty, moonlit hall that Rook had dragged me to on my first day at Blood Rose. Oleander was always nervous when we snuck out at night. If we were caught, it would be another demerit for me and probably expulsion for him.

“Yes,” I said, retrieving an inscribed stone from my pocket.

“And have you been practicing in your room? Did you manage to make it anywhere?”

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