Supernatural Academy: Year One (Supernatural Academy #1)(3)

And how the hell in all hells did she know my name?

I decided to play along and run as soon as her guard was down. “I’m not saying I believe you….” I pretended to relax, closing my blade and slipping it back into my bag. “But I also don’t want to hurt anyone. The strange shit in my life has been ramping up lately”—not even a lie—“so … maybe I do need some help.”

Ilia’s full lips pursed as she examined me. I fought to keep my expression open and neutral, but something told me I was already too late. Run.

I moved, but I was too slow. She lunged for me, and before I could get out of the way, her hands wrapped around mine. She murmured a few words, words that were not English, and I felt a hot pulse against my skin. With a shriek, I tried to yank myself free from her, but she was surprisingly strong.

“Let me go, bitch!” I shouted, fighting to get loose. I was shocked when a moment later the pressure on my hands released and she moved back. That was until I looked down to see crisscrossing beams of light wrapping all the way around my wrists and hands, binding them together.

Ilia dropped her head to stare me in the eye. “You were going to run, Maddison. Don’t play stupid with me. I can tell that for you to believe what I’m saying, you’re going to have to see it in person.”

Panic swirled inside of me, making my gut and chest ache as I struggled for each breath. I hated to be restrained; it had happened too many times when my mom’s “boyfriends” had decided an annoying as hell kid should not be seen or heard.

“Please release my hands,” I asked, trying to keep the tremble from the words.

Ilia shook her head. “I’m sorry. No one can remove these bindings except the Academy princeps. He gave me the spell and it’s specifically linked to him. Call it insurance that you have to follow me back.”

My heart was hammering in my chest; my blood roared in my ears as everything went a little pear-shaped. Ilia looked at me with concern for the first time, perfect eyebrows bunching as she leaned closer.

“I have a problem being restrained,” I admitted through gritted teeth. “It’s a trigger for me.” Before she could stop me, I spun around and smashed my hands against the edge of the sink, trying to loosen the binds. Nothing happened except sharp pains ricocheting up my arms. A few more taps and it was clear that this was no normal material. I could not break it, tear it, or wiggle my hands free from it.

Shaking, I faced her again and found sympathetic eyes on me. “Fuck. Sorry, girl,” she said gently. “I wish I could remove them, but all I can do is promise we’ll get you to the Academy as soon as possible.”

She reached down and grabbed the bag I’d dropped earlier and then wrapped an arm around me, hauling me closer as we walked out of the bathroom. Outside the temperatures seemed to have dropped even further. The wind was howling, bringing small particles of ice and snow. My jacket was in my bag, and I couldn’t reach it with my hands bound, but luckily I’d always had a pretty high tolerance for temperatures.

“How are we getting to the Academy?” I asked, somewhat resigning myself to the fact that I was not getting out of this. Not yet anyway. I couldn’t even move my hands. I would literally do anything to get these bindings removed—so I had to play along with her for a little while longer.

And … speaking of these bindings, they were so bizarre that a part of me was starting to believe what she was saying. The words kept running through my head: vampire, shifter, fey, and magic user … supernaturals … academies … prisons…

What the fuck had my pink hair gotten me into?





2





Ilia led me toward a nearby car. It was too dark for me to make out the model, but it was huge and looked expensive. She yanked the back door open and then turned to help me climb in—my bound hands made balancing quite the adventure.

I’d had my hands restrained exactly like this once before, and the memory of that was making it difficult for me not to panic. My head was pounding, terror scratching incessantly at my insides. It was only through pure force of will that I wasn’t screaming hysterically.

I needed a distraction. Anything. “Are we driving all the way to the Academy?” I asked her again, breathless but coherent. Surely a school filled with vampires wouldn’t just be on a normal Detroit street.

“Step-through,” she replied quickly as she pushed me across and slid in next to me. A what now?

Wait … if she was in the back with me…

I turned to the driver seat, and when huge brown eyes met mine, I let out a short, startled scream.

“Shut her up,” it growled.

What in the fuck…?

It was too much for me, being tied like this while trapped in a vehicle with some green freaking gremlin. Darkness pressed in around the edges of my vision.

“She’s going to pass out!” I heard Ilia yell. “Drive, Mossie. The step-through is not far away and we need to get there now.”

Mossie. Even in my hysterical state I still had enough coherency to wonder if the name was a tribute to its green skin and high, pointed ears.

Tires screeched as the car took off, and I focused on breathing in and out, filling my lungs over and over. As we skidded around a corner, I went sprawling across the wide back seat. Mossie was going too fast; if we stopped suddenly I was going to really regret not having a seat belt on.